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Any longer in that room and Giana was going to explode. That
was not keeping her calm, she chided herself as she raced up
the stairs to her bedroom. Not keeping her calm at all. She’d
never felt this way before. Like she was deliciously skirting
the boundary of everything that she told herself she could
never cross. She’d been in full and wild abandon when she’d
taken Coralyn up against the wall and she remembered how
that felt all too well. How it felt, above all, not to be so locked
down and afraid of her own emotions. Afraid of someone
else’s. The sex she’d always had was basically an agreement
and an arrangement. She went to clubs where people of the
same taste and mindset frequented. People who wanted to
submit. People who wanted to dominate. People in between.
People searching, people experienced. It made for a good fit,
but it had never been about anything more than a physical
release for her, whether she was on the giving end or the
receiving end of co-mingled pain and plea
sure.
She gathered what she needed from her dresser, and her face
got hot when she thought about Coralyn’s accusations. I know
what’s in that dresser. Giana hadn’t actually thought that
Coralyn would come to her house to do anything other than
apologize again and try to find a way forward that ultimately
led in an annulment and them going their separate ways. She’d
stated differently, but she was practical and smart, and she’d
had an independent lawyer discreetly prepare the paperwork.
He’d handled none of her business dealings in the past and he
was impartial and would keep things quiet because he was
obligated to.
Every step back to her office filled her with anticipation.
