“What are we having?” I asked, mostly in an attempt to put off the inevitable, but also because it smelled delicious.
“Homemade beef stroganoff,” Jordan informed me. “My boy knows how to cook.”
I glanced over at Dale, enjoying the way he blushed when Jordan said such sweet things about him.
“Is there a reason you call him my Knight?” I just had to know.
Dale blushed again, but Jordan was the one who spoke up.
“We met at a club one night and my boy here was with another Dom.” He waved a hand dismissively. “A pretentious asshole who called himself a Dom.”
“Don’t get him started,” Dale warned with a chuckle.
“Anyway, I saw them arguing and I didn’t like the way the man was talking to him, so I intervened. The rest is history.”
“And because he came riding in on his white horse, I call him my Knight.”
I lifted my wineglass in a mock toast. “Well, that makes perfect sense. Plus, it’s a romantic story.”
“But enough about that,” Jordan said as he laid the plates out before me. “Either you start talking or I hide the food.”
Taking a sip of wine, I narrowed my eyes at Jordan. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me, little girl. Remember who the Dom is here.”
“About that,” I said, pointing toward him with my glass. “How did I work with you for nearly three months and not find out that you were into the lifestyle until you showed up out of the blue on the island? Hmm? I can’t quite figure that one out.”
Jordan grinned over at Dale. “I told you that was the first thing she was going to ask.”
Dale nodded. “It’s true. That’s exactly what he said.”
“Well? I deserve answers.”
“You’ll get them,” Jordan assured me. “Just as long as you promise to talk to me.”
I sobered, my smile somewhat sad. “I promise, I’ll talk.”
“Good.” He sighed, then took a long sip of his wine. “And the fact that I’m a Dom and I have a full-time submissive is not something I share with many people. Not because I’m embarrassed but because it typically doesn’t come up in conversation. I’m not sure when the appropriate time to tell you that I had a man at home who called me his Knight and allowed me to tie him up and do wicked, dirty things to him would’ve been.”
Again, I glanced at Dale, who was now blushing profusely.
“Okay, fine. You’ve got me there.” It was true. It had never come up in conversation.
“But I could say the same to you,” Jordan continued. “When were you going to tell me that you had four masters?”
I sighed. “I don’t have four masters.” That much was true. At the moment, I didn’t feel like I had any. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do come Thursday.
Jordan came around and took the seat beside me, his hand resting on my forearm. “Talk to me, sweetie. Dale and I won’t judge you and maybe we’ll help you figure out what your next steps are.”
I smiled, willing the tears not to fall. And two seconds later, I found myself telling Jordan and Dale everything that had happened from the moment we left the island until this afternoon when I’d been told to go home and think about my options.
Needless to say, we had needed the two bottles of wine.
Twenty-One
ON WEDNESDAY MORNING, I ARRANGED to meet Jordan in the office at eight thirty in order to get the letters. When I texted him at seven forty-five, he assured me the boss fairies had come through for me and there was an envelope locked in his desk for safe keeping.
When I arrived, his eyes were as round as saucers when he took in my bedraggled appearance. I hadn’t bothered to shower yet, so my hair was loosely knotted on top of my head, I had no makeup on, and I was wearing my favorite yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt. I was a hot mess, I wouldn’t lie. Even after last night, after spending time with Jordan and Dale, laughing and talking and drinking wine, I still couldn’t sleep for shit. My bosses’ request was weighing heavily on me.
“Okay, so this is not how I expected you to look after our talk last night,” he stated as he hesitantly passed over the envelope, still checking me out.
I peered down at myself. “Oh, this old thing? I was going for shabby chic. Too much?”
He smiled, but I could tell he wasn’t completely taken by my charm. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I hugged him, wanting to reassure him. “I’m fine. I just have a lot of things to think about, but I promise I’ll be back in the morning.”
“I’m holding you to that. Have you talked to Kristen yet?”
Last night, I had talked to Jordan a little about Kristen, telling him all about how she had also kept her kinky life a secret all this time, plus how she was the one who had connected me with the job opportunity. After a little too much wine, I had also conveyed that she was personally responsible for setting things in motion with my bosses. He hadn’t found that amusing in the least. I informed him I was scared to bring it up to her because I wasn’t sure I could keep my anger in check after what she did to me. The fact that she pimped me out to my four bosses still bothered me more than anything.
