LOGINJaxon The surveillance footage from the Iron & Ink parking lot plays on Silas’s laptop for the third time, and the three of us watch the same forty-second clip in silence. Grainy, timestamped two-seventeen in the morning, a figure in a dark hoodie crouches near the side entrance, stays low for under a minute, then disappears back the way he came. Forty minutes later, Dez found it. Package the size of a shoebox, taped to the underside of the exterior generator housing. Crude construction but functional enough to have taken out the whole left side of the building if it had gone off at capacity. Dez was pulling a double. He’d gone around back for a smoke break. He’s currently in a hospital bed with a ruptured eardrum and burns up his left forearm. Dez, who has worked that door for six years and never once called in sick. I lean back in my chair and say nothing. The clip loops again. “Southside,” Cassian says. Not a question. He rarely speaks. When he does, you know it’s necess
Elena“Jaxon.” His name comes out fractured, half a whisper. “T-This is the women’s bathroom.” I can’t help the stutter that I’ve seemed to develop from his presence. He makes a soft sound, something low in his chest that isn’t quite a laugh but close enough. “I’m aware.” He steps inside and the lock clicks behind him and suddenly the room that felt spacious a minute ago feels smaller.“My husband is right outside.” I press back against the sink. “Our guests —”“Then you’d better make sure you cum fast enough before he comes looking.” His eyes move across my face unhurried, taking in my expression.“Cum? What do you mean, what are you —”He kisses me.Not gradual. It’s unexpected which somehow makes it even better. His mouth finds mine like it’s been waiting all evening and his hands frame my face and the rest of my thoughts dissolves completely because his lips are warm and taste faintly of whiskey.One hand slides into my hair, not roughly, but with enough intention that I feel it
ElenaThe cursor blinks at me from the center of an unfinished brief I’ve been staring at for forty minutes.I should be working. I know I should be working. There’s a contract review due by end of week and three client emails sitting in my inbox that I’ve been creatively ignoring since Monday, and the stack of folders on the corner of my desk has developed a slight lean that suggests instability.I just can’t make myself care right now.I close the brief, open it again, read the same paragraph for the fourth time and retain nothing. My mind keeps sliding sideways — to last Tuesday, the way his voice dropped when he told me to be still.We’ve been seeing each other three or more times a week. With how much time he makes for us to fuck, you’d think he wasn’t a popular sex therapist. After we had sex last time, he placed an order for toys. He mentioned how he’d love to use them on me. A few days later, They arrived in a matte black box. which shouldn’t have been as thrilling as it wa
ElenaThe smell of bacon is what wakes me.I lie there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, trying to locate the source of it — because the maids don’t start until eight and my phone says six forty-seven and Marcus hasn’t cooked a single thing in this kitchen in the entire time we’ve lived here.I pull on a robe and follow the smell downstairs.He’s standing at the stove in a button-down he hasn’t tucked in yet, sleeves rolled to the elbows, spatula in hand. The table is set. Actually set placemats, orange juice. He turns when he hears me on the last step and smiles the smile I used to look for in any room.“Morning.” He says it warm, easy, like nothing.I look around. “Where are the maids?”“Gave them the morning off.” He turns back to the pan. “Wanted to do this myself. Thought we could spend some time together.” He plates the bacon, moves to the eggs, completely at home in a kitchen he has never once been at home in. “We could go out after. That place on fifth you like, or —” He s
The afternoon light cuts clean through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Marcus Vance’s office, throwing long rectangles of gold across the mahogany desk he spent three months picking out. He leans back in his chair, one ankle crossed over his knee, the kind of posture that shows he’s the boss.“Senator Briggs, I understand your concern completely, and I want to assure you that the restructuring of the trust won’t affect your holdings in any significant —” He pauses, listening, turning a pen between his fingers. “No, sir. Not a single asset moves without your direct authorization. That’s my guarantee to you personally.” He smiles at whatever comes back through the line. “Exactly. Golf Thursday, we’ll go over the full breakdown then. My assistant will confirm the — “The door opens. No knock. Just opensThree men fill the frame in a way that has nothing to do with their physical size, though they are large — the kind of large that comes from specific, intentional living. Dark clothes, no
Elena The faint smell of fresh espresso and toasted garlic floats through the heavy mahogany door, dragging me out of the deepest, most undisturbed sleep I’ve had in months. I blink against the bright morning sun cutting across the king-sized bed. For a second, I’m disoriented, until the dull, unmistakable throb between my thighs reminds me of last night in my head. A slow, involuntary smile pulls at my lips as my face flushes hot. Last night was amazing, the way he looked at me like I was something to be conquered, then thoroughly ruined. I roll over, reaching out a hand, but my fingers meet only crisp linen. The other side of the bed is made—not just empty, but looking as though it wasn't even slept in. The realization stings, a sharp little prick of reality that deflates the morning haze. Right, I remind myself, sitting up and drawing my knees to my chest. This was just sex. Brilliant, mind-shattering sex, but just sex. Beyond that, the heavy gold band on my left hand sudden
Jaxon The vibration of my phone against the mahogany nightstand is the first thing that pulls me out of a restless sleep. I swipe to answer, my voice a low, morning rasp. "Deluca." "Good morning, Doctor," Sarah, my assistant, chirps with a level of energy I find offensive this early. "Just con
ElenaThe hum of the Lexus was the only thing grounding me as the suburban streetlights gave way to the jagged, neon-stained outskirts of the industrial district. My hands were still shaking, gripping the leather-wrapped steering wheel until my knuckles turned a ghostly white. Every mile I put betw
Elena The office air-conditioning was humming a low, sterile tune that usually helped me focus on the grant proposals piling up on my desk. But today, the hum felt like a drill. My head throbbed with the ghost of last night’s silence, the kind of silence that Marcus used to suffocate me until I a
Elena The house felt like a museum after hours—cold, silent, and smelling faintly of the lemon wax I’d used to scrub away every trace of the previous night’s failure. I had spent the day in a trance of domestic penance. I’d gone to the market, selected the most expensive cut of sea bass, and pre







