Page 80 of Resist

“We could slip out back and go drinking next door.”

She frowns at my suggestion. “I don’t think getting drunk is the right play right now, Sterling.” She strokes the side of my face. “It’s more likely to end up in a night of bad decisions and regrets. And I truly don’t want you to regret agreeing to marry me. I appreciate everything you’re doing for me.”

And the hits keep coming. She thinks I’m this altruistic guy, married to her from the goodness of my heart because I led her to believe that. She has no idea that Monday I’m calling in ‘sick’ and exploring those boxes Jagger pointed out in her office earlier.

I take a sip of my drink, hoping to buy a moment before I have to answer her but Phoenix appears by our side. “You guys coming downstairs? Jagger’s doing wax play with Talia. I have some willing and eager victims to flog with my new flogger. Thor and Adi are banging like rabbits in one of the viewing rooms. Plenty of fun to choose from.”

Say no, please say no, Corabelle. I’m not sure I can handle thoughts of pouring wax over her, or her pouring wax on me. Being here is one thing, going down stairs is a whole other problem. I thought I could handle it, resist the urge to touch her, but I guess I’m not the man I thought I was.

Phoenix purses her lips as she regards her friend. “You okay?”

Corabelle nods, but the tension in her face is clear from the firm-set of her mouth.

“You sure?” The slow way with which Phoenix drags out her question to prod her friend tells me she’s not buying what Corabelle is selling.

“We’ve both had a long day moving all those boxes.” I flash one of my more sympathetic smiles in Corabelle’s direction. “And moving into my lovely wife’s space has taken a lot out of both of us.”

Phoenix nods. “I hadn’t thought about that. Not to bring up the dreaded ex, but despite how long they were together, he never moved into her apartment.” She bumps my bicep. “This is a big deal, Ster, you’re right.”

She gives her friend a tight squeeze, and Corabelle mouths “thank you” to me over her friend’s shoulder.

When Phoenix pulls back, she strokes Corabelle’s arm. Idon’t know how she gets away with it. In some moments I get the impression if I were to throw my arms around Corabelle, I’d have my limbs ripped from my body. But Phoenix can touch her without warning.

Is that envy I feel snaking its way through my veins?

Phoenix leans in toward my wife. “I guess he felt challenged when we all waxed lyrical about Talia’s cookies, because Slade baked cookies today, they’re upstairs in the staff area if you feel like a sugar hit, but you have to come downstairs to get them.” She bumps her elbow. “See you both down there.”

When she leaves, Corabelle sags against the wall.

“Seems her sympathy only goes so far. No “why don’t you head home if you’re not feeling it” out offered there, was there?”

She smiles at me. “That’s not really how we roll. But if I were to leave, she wouldn’t be upset with me either.”

“Do you want me to get you out of here? I can make up an excuse, take the blame.”

She shakes her head. “We’ll show our faces downstairs.” She pauses. “Thirty minutes then we’ll leave.”

I hadn’t figured Corabelle Blackwell as a people pleaser, so perhaps there’s something going on downstairs she’s curious about or interested in, which means she’s likely to end up turned on by the time we leave this building.

“Something you want to see?” My voice is as strained as my cock trying to punch its way out of my pants.

She nods. “Still curious about the wax.”

I didn’t quit my role as dungeon master when I took on my full-time editing position. It would take alotto make me walk away from Protocol.

I could make totally it happen for her. Safely, consensually, and I could make it good for her, too.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to suggest she try it, but I don’t want to cross her line, break the stupid rules we’re bothseemingly clinging to, white-knuckled, to protect ourselves and each other. So, the words die on my tongue.

We descend the staircase into the basement of Protocol, and my gut sinks further with each step. I’d like to consider myself a strong, resilient, self-controlled man, but stepping into the dungeon of a sex club to watch a demonstration that’s taken my fake wife’s fancy might just be the straw that broke the horny, fake husband’s back.

CHAPTER 30

Cora

I have regrets.

It’s a long list that seems to grow by the day, but right now, stepping down into the Protocol dungeon as the new Mr. and Mrs. Sterling Montgomery to watch Jagger pour wax on Talia is right up there.