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“Kyle,” he introduces himself, lifting his arm to beckon a blonde woman over. She's wearing an unusual leather necklace that ends in a metal hoop. Her leather bra, contrasting against her pale skin, houses a bust that could make anyone blush. Her long, bare legs seem to go on forever, and only later do I notice the leather mini shorts she's wearing.
Feeling bitter, I take a step back, “Thanks again,” I say, my mood souring. If that’s his standard, he'd never look at someone like me since I’m her opposite: short, and curvy.
We enter the dungeon, and I see Kyle leading the woman on a leash, no joke. I'd researched this place and discovered it was a world unto itself. The more I read, the more I was drawn to it. Sensuality, kinks, respect, and consent. That's why he'd approached me.
Kyle hands the woman off to another man as they walk by. I'm a bit taken aback but shake my head—it's none of my business, but definitely will search more about it.
I join my friends at a table, off to the side but with a good view. The lights are dim, but not entirely off.
A waiter brings over a drink, placing it in front of me.
“I’m sorry, I haven’t ordered anything. I don't drink alcohol,” I interrupt.
“It's from K, Miss,” he tells me, pointing toward the bar. I turn around and catch Kyle's gaze. He raises his glass in a toast, and then takes a sip.
“Thank you,” I murmur to him. I take the glass, mimicking his toast, but I don't drink. It's not uncommon for people to add something into drinks nowadays. I shift my attention back to the stage, hiding a smile. I must admit, I enjoy the feeling of him watching me. It's different from the way others, even men, look at me.
The moment the spotlight hits the stage, someone takes a seat next to me. “Ain't you a fan?”
Kyle's voice makes me cringe a little. “I don't do drinks.”
He picks up the glass, giving the straw a twirl, making the ice cubes dance, then takes a swig. “It's not spiked, and definitely no funky additions.” He sets it down in front of me.
I'm not sure why, but I grab it and take a tentative sip. The cocktail is surprisingly yummy and fruity.
“See, wasn't so bad, was it?” He leans in and I stiffen. “We ain't all jerks. We know how to treat a lady. That's just one of the rules.”
He gets up and almost instinctively, I grab his hand. “I'm sorry, didn't mean to ruffle your feathers.”
“No offense taken; trust's gotta be earned.” I release his hand and he walks away, leaving me with a lump in my throat and a strange spark from our brief contact.
“How's your day?” His voice snaps me back to reality.
“Pretty jam-packed. How about yours? Did you meet the new DA?”
“Lord, have mercy.” He sighs and signals the waiter to start bringing our food. “That woman is a real piece of work.”
I can't help but smirk. “A woman, huh?”
“I'm slammed, physically, mentally, and emotionally, babe.”
“That would sure quiet her down, wouldn't it?”
“She probably wouldn't mind, but she's not my type.” He shrugs nonchalantly.
Which means he would reject her if she made a move. Not that I mind him mingling with other women, quite the opposite, it's somewhat satisfying because I know he's mine and always will be.
Kyle gazes at me intently, as if he can read my thoughts. I wouldn't put it past him. To say we're an open book to each other would be an understatement. We discuss everything, work-related or not. Our relationship has always been grounded in trust, honesty, and transparency. He let me into his world from the get-go, a world I was initially intrigued by, never imagining I'd become part of it. But with him, it's been an intoxicating and revealing journey, showing me facets of myself and a confidence I never knew existed.
I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Five years of marriage have flown by, and he still finds ways to make me happy and love me unconditionally. Our eyes meet, my heart skips a beat, and I know this is the life I've chosen.
When it's time for dessert, the cart rolls toward us. The wait staff clear the table and exit, leaving us alone. Kyle's eyes light up with anticipation as he points to the tray. I lift the lid, revealing a pile of strawberries and a spray cream can. Memories of a game we played the night we first got together flood back.
“I'm really in the mood for my dessert,” he whispers, a sly grin on his face.
I return his knowing smile as I push my chair back slightly and stand. I untie the lace at the back of my neck that's holding up my dress. The fabric slides effortlessly down my body and pools on the floor.
Kyle lets his gaze roam over my skin before licking his lips and extending his hand toward me. I accept it and he pulls me onto his lap.
