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“You mean TPE?”
“Total surrender, total power exchange.” She shrugged. “Whatever you want to call it. But yeah, that’s a big one. It’s scary though.”
“Fear can be fun to play with, Ace,” he murmured. “I can give you a taste if you just give in.”
She swallowed. “Why do you think I play high stakes poker?”
He gave a low chuckle. “Now that actually makes sense. What does total surrender look like to you?”
Around them, conversation buzzed as people drank and socialized. Upstairs, he could hear the faint sounds of pleasure drifting from the various play areas.
“I’m not sure. Maybe that’s why I’ve never tried.”
He trailed a finger down her cheek. “Solid answer. What are the things you won’t do for the man who gets your surrender?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Is it really total surrender if there are things I won’t do?”
He let a hand settle on her waist. “Absolutely. Surrender means trusting that you won’t have your limits violated while giving in to whatever else I want.”
She sucked in a breath when he pulled her closer to him.
“The only thing I can think of right now is that I won’t walk away from my career. And I’m not going to ask for permission to use the bathroom or be told how to dress or anything like that.”
“Only a bastard would ask you to give up your career. As for bathroom privileges, I’m not into micromanaging you. Your clothes, though. We would have to negotiate on that one. If you were mine, you would be naked as much as humanly possible.”
She blushed, and he brought a hand to rest beneath her chin.
“So, if you were my sub, and I brought three friends home and told you they could fuck you however they wanted, that would be OK?”
She bit her lip as she stared up at him. “Hypothetically, yes.”
He pressed his cheek to hers so he could speak right in her ear. “I rarely share my prized possessions, Rylee. If you surrender to me, it’s only to me.”
She swallowed.
“Pardon me,” she said, stepping out of his one-armed embrace. “I, um. I need to go check my phone.”
Ryleeleanedagainstthebathroom wall, trying to catch her breath. Memphis Foster was smothering.
After their little chat in the corner, he’d let her leave with her lame phone excuse. But she still felt his presence. His breath on her ear, the way his finger trailed down her cheek.
Sucking in a final deep breath, she pushed off the wall and stepped back into the party room. She had to avoid Memphis, or she was going to lose the bet. Though he was offering a million just for her to spend a night with him—no bet needed.
When she left the bathroom, she stopped by the cellphone room and checked her phone for any updates on why the tournament had been canceled. The cellphone room was a special place where guests put their phones in lockers that had been brought in just for the party. There was an attendant who watched over the lockers, so everyone knew their devices were safe. It was a security measure to prevent people from taking pictures and posting them online.
Guests were free to check messages at any time, but the phones couldn’t be taken outside of the designated cell phone area.
There were no updates except for a few social media posts and one text from a friend asking why it had been canceled. Tucking the phone back into the locker, she made her way back to the party.
“Rylee, what’s wrong? You look distracted,” Hunter Novak said when she nearly ran into him.
“Sorry, Hunter. They canceled my tournament earlier today and I can’t get any information about why.”
He frowned. “That was over at Caesar’s, right? I’ll make some calls,” he said when she nodded.
“Thanks,” she muttered. “I’m gonna go find a drink.”
“Hey, Rylee,” Hunter said, stopping her in her tracks. “Be careful with Memphis. He’s a wonderful friend, but he’s got a lot on his plate right now and I’m not convinced he’s thinking straight.”
