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More intense? I shook my head, not understanding any of this, and turned to look at him.
“What…why is she screaming?” My voice was barely above a whisper.
He let out a heavy sigh. “Because she likes rough sex. Being tied up and whipped is my guess since that is supposed to be a tack room. But I swear to you that she went in there willingly and wanting it. They always do,” he said, then gave me an apologetic smile. “I didn’t know he was in there, or I wouldn’t have brought you this way.”
Who was he? I started to ask and stopped myself. I didn’t want to know. I just wanted to leave.
“Come on. You can’t hear that in here, and you need to sit down. Rest a bit.”
Unsure, I stared at the inside of the room as he waited for me to move. Leaving would be dramatic, and I did want to see the rest of the place. But why would someone want to be whipped and tied up? I didn’t understand that at all.
Finally, I gave in and went into the game room. When the door closed behind Sebastian, the sounds of the woman were gone. I wanted to forget what I had heard, and I also wanted to get an explanation for it. I knew people had rough sex and did kinky things. I hadn’t been living under a rock. But I didn’t realize it was so painful that it would cause someone to scream like that. Wasn’t it about pleasure ultimately? Did she truly want to be hurt?
“What can I fix you to drink? I have everything you could want,” he told me, walking over to the bar setup, equivalent to that at a nice restaurant.
Was there anything this place didn’t have?
“Water,” I replied.
“Still or sparkling?” he asked me as he stepped behind the bar and went to take a glass off the rack.
“Sparkling.”
While he proceeded to fix drinks, I took in the room. It was the size of my cottage. A pool table, a black leather sectional sofa, a screen that covered the left wall—which I assumed was supposed to be a television maybe, although I’d never seen one like that. A fireplace that was so large that it almost covered the back wall with four black leather chairs set around it. Then a round card table with eight chairs surrounding it sat in the center of the room.
“Here you go,” Sebastian said as he came up beside me. “Let’s go sit down.”
I took the glass from him and took a sip as I followed him to the sectional sofa. He motioned for me to take a seat, then sat opposite of me, giving me plenty of space. I appreciated it. The things I’d heard were still making me jittery. I didn’t like that a woman was being whipped across the way from us. Even if she wanted to be.
Realizing I hadn’t thanked Sebastian for my water, I started to when the door to the game room opened, and I was left speechless. A shirtless King walked inside with a pair of jeans hanging on his hips enough to show off a very impressive set of abs. He was barefoot as well and appeared to be sweating, as if he’d just worked out. As I sat, stunned by the view, unable to stop looking at him, he headed toward the bar before glancing in our direction. When his eyes met mine, he stopped and studied me for a moment.
“Lost some of your clothing, have you?” Sebastian asked him.
King swung his gaze to Sebastian. “What is Rumor doing here?” The way he said it sounded as if he was angry about my coming here.
Was I not supposed to leave the house?
“I broke her free. Maeme knows,” he replied, then smirked before taking a drink from his glass.
King looked back at me, and his jaw clenched before he continued toward the bar. “I see,” he finally bit out.
He wasn’t happy about me being here. I didn’t like that feeling. King was always so nice. I hadn’t meant to do something to upset him.
“I-I can leave,” I stammered, standing up.
“Sit down,” Sebastian told me. “Ignore him. I do.”
That might be the case, but I didn’t sit back down. If King didn’t want me here, then I didn’t want to be here. I could find my way back to the gate behind the cottage. I didn’t need anyone to walk me there. King grabbed something under the counter and then stood back up. His eyes cut back to me. The look in his eyes made me nervous. I should have stayed at the cottage.
“Sit,” he barked, and I started to do just that but stopped myself.
What was wrong with me being here? This was Sebastian’s stables. Not King’s. He didn’t decide who came here, and Maeme had said it was okay.
I narrowed my eyes as I looked at him and straightened my shoulders. “If I sit, then I will do so because I want to. Not because you ordered me to so rudely.”
I heard a smothered laugh from Sebastian, but I didn’t take my eyes off King.
He walked back from behind the bar with a longneck bottle of beer in his hand. His eyes stayed locked on me as he studied me. I felt my heart begin to race, and I questioned if it was smart to talk to a man his size that way. Sebastian wasn’t wimpy by any means, but King was taller, broader, and his arms were…well, his arms were thick and corded with defined muscle. I couldn’t tell what the tattoo on his left biceps was, but it wasn’t unappealing.
