I look at them, and holy fuck, they’re hot. Her lipstick is smeared on my skin and almost perfectly matches her nails where she’s touching me. I swallow hard. “You’re good at this.”

“Literally my job.” She tugs my dress down, for all the good it does. I can still clearly see her marks through the sheer fabric. Tatiana holds up my panties. “These are lovely, but you look better without them.”

Zayne walks back up, his pants once again in place. He presses a quick kiss to my lips and then a significantly longer one to Tatiana’s. She seems to melt into it but then reluctantly draws away. “I have to go.”

“Stay.” He trails a single finger down her stomach and stops just above her pussy. “That was barely more than a taste.”

“A taste is all I have time for tonight.” She snags her pants and pulls them on, carefully brushing his hand away. “But that was fun, so if you want more, I’ll make room on my list for you.” She produces a card from somewhere and presses it into his hand. “Thanks for the orgasm, handsome.”

I get a card too. It’s thick card stock and contains only an email. No phone number.

“If you haven’t changed your mind by then, send me that picture tomorrow, lovely. I meant it when I said I’d frame it.” She kisses Zayne lightly and gives me the same treatment. Then she’s gone, striding away as if she didn’t rock both our worlds.

Zayne slumps against me. “I think I’m in love.”

“You say that all the time.”

“I think I mean it this time.” He slides down until his head is in my lap and then gives me a surprisingly sweet smile. “That really was only a taste. Want to go back to my place and fuck some of that frustration out? I know we decided our friendship was simpler without sex involved, but I’m still riled up.”

I almost say yes, but not for any of the right reasons. I want to keep riding the high of Wolf’s anger, the sharp edge of doing something I shouldn’t. Playing those games with strangers is shitty. Doing it with my friends is unforgivable. I shake my head. “It’d be a poor substitute for what we both want.”

“Speak for yourself.” He laughs and sits up. “But yeah, I think that ship has sailed. Still, if you ever want to fuck someone else together again, that was fun. I’d do it again.” His gaze shifts to the stairs, going contemplative. “I think I will book her, though. Get her out of my system and all that.”

I don’t tell him it’s a bad idea, that Cassim will lose his ever-loving shit if he finds out Zayne is frequenting an escort. He barely tolerates Zayne’s fuckboy tendencies, and the Sarraf family cares about perception even more than my family does. It’s because of how Jasmine ended up in power, and while Jasmine and Jafar are hardly puritanical when it comes to sex and sex work, Cassim is a stick-in-the-mud.

Saying as much won’t change what he’s going to do, though. “Good luck.”

“I hear the doubt in your voice and I’m choosing to ignore it. I’m just looking for a good time, Ruby, not a spouse. Tatiana and I will have that good time and then we’ll go our separate ways.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “Are you hanging out longer?”

“No, I think I’m good.”

“I’ll wait with you while you call a car.”

I know better than to argue with him. And, honestly, with Wolf’s threats still ringing in my ears, I don’t relish the idea of standing on a dark street corner by myself. “Okay.”

We close out our tabs and wait in comfortable silence on the curb for the car to show up. We’re headed in opposite directions, so I don’t offer to share with him. And, to be perfectly honest, I want some time alone to think about what happened tonight.

“Hey, Ruby.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m glad you’re back.” He slings an arm around my shoulders and kisses my temple. “I missed having you around.”

“I missed you too.”

It’s not until I’m in the car that the horrible reckless feeling rises again, not remotely sated by my activities of the night. It’s the only explanation I have for pulling out my phone and sending that picture of Tatiana’s fingers and lipstick on my pussy to Wolf.

The message changes over to read, and I hold my breath as I wait for a response.

He doesn’t type anything. Not on the ride home. Not as I’m showering. Not as I’m lying in my bed, staring at my phone. When I wake up in the morning, not sure when I passed out, he still hasn’t texted me back.

OceanofPDF.com

7

“Ruby, I know you’re entering your loveable slut era, but there are lines.”

I carefully apply brilliant-scarlet lipstick in the mirror. “You’ve been to the Broken Tree before.”

“Yeah, which is why I know it’s a bad idea.” Michelle clears her throat. “Look, that was the one place where my dad lost his shit and stepped in. Do you know how humiliating it is to be collected by your father at a bar? Now multiply that by two because that’s what you’ll be experiencing when your dads find out.”

“They aren’t going to find out.” I finish with the lipstick and admire the effect. “I look good.”

“Of course you do.” Michelle actually seems worried in the video chat on my phone. “At least let me come with you.”

“No.” I finger comb my hair a bit to give it a just-been-fucked look. “The last thing I need is Uncle Hook ruining my fun, which is what he’ll do if you step foot in that place again.”

“Ruby.” Michelle leans back. “If you want to fuck someone dangerous, we can make that happen. You were acting reckless last night, but this is on another level. We could go to the Underworld⁠—”

I stop her with a glare. “You know damn well why I’m not going to the Underworld—which is the same reason you don’t go there. The last thing I want is for people who are practically family to witness me getting kinky and wild.” Not that I’m overly kinky by nature . . . or at least I haven’t explored that because where would I explore that? At the Underworld, where my parents have a damn sex date every Saturday? No, thanks.

“Ruby.” Michelle sighs. “Meg can be very discreet. She’s set up a session for me a time or two in one of the private rooms. We could⁠—”

“No.” If the situation were different, that might actually be an attractive offer, but the one thing the Underworld doesn’t have is my stalker. Wolf. Which should be a mark in the positive column. Safe, sane, and consensual are the hallmarks of good kink. There’s nothing safe or sane about meeting a man who’s been stalking me, one I suspect of being a murderer, in a bar that’s decidedly not safe. Can’t pretend it’s not consensual, though. He’s hardly showing up and kidnapping me.

The thought makes my thighs clench, which just goes to show that I’m not acting rationally. I don’t care. I’m in a free fall, and I don’t know whether I’ll land safely or smash myself to pieces. It doesn’t matter, because it’s too late to stop. “I’ll text you when I get there and do regular check-ins.”

Michelle worries her full bottom lip. “If something goes wrong⁠—”

“It won’t.”

“You can say that with all the confidence in the world, but that doesn’t mean you can brazen your way out of a bad situation.” She hesitates. “What’s going on with you?”

“If you want to talk about what’s going on with me, then maybe we should talk about what happened last night. Were you pissed because Zayne wanted to fuck Tatiana or because she wanted to fuck us?”

Her expression closes down. “Neither. It had nothing to do with that.”

“Okay, then what was it about?” When she doesn’t immediately answer, I nod. “Thought so. I love you, I appreciate you, and I’ll call you later.”

“Goddamn it, Ruby!”

I hang up and step back, getting a good look at myself in the mirror. Michelle’s right to be worried. I’m out for trouble. My black skirt barely covers the essentials, and I left off panties, as ordered. My crimson top is a faux-leather underbust corset that leaves a slice of stomach exposed and does wonders for my breasts, which are only covered in a matching lace bra. My only practical choice is my footwear; I went with chunky boots instead of heels.