Page 49 of Iron Princess
A small sink is tucked in next to it, partially hidden by a Chinese painted screen. Like the rest of the club, it carries an expensive, opulent feel, but this one is uniquely balanced with utility and practicality.
“So, this is the dungeon?” My throat is hoarse from yelling, and my question comes out with a rough edge.
Kane glances around like he’s seeing our surroundings for the first time. “It’s a private room. The dungeon is an open public space. But the club keeps the BDSM equipment largely down here.”
He grabs a sanitizing wipe from the counter by the sink and wipes down the bench I was strapped to.
“And what exactly is that called?”
He shoots me a grin over his shoulder. “A spanking bench.” He turns back to finish cleaning it. “I think we need one at the warehouse.”
A shot of reality twines with excitement.He’s talking about the future. Our future.
It’s something I’ve been afraid to think about since the first moment I worried I was getting attached to him, but now I’m starting to feel more comfortable with the idea. I’m not about to start picking out pillows for his couch, but letting myself picture us together a few days from now rather than just hours from now is a big change.
But I’m not going to let myself get too crazy. I still have a brother who’s in hiding because he screwed over the wrong people. Maybe it’s like an ostrich burying its head in the sand, but I can’t think about Rafe every minute of the day, because I feel so damned helpless when I do.
I lean into Kane, and his arm curls tighter around my shoulder.
“You like that idea?”
I recall he’s talking about the spanking bench and peek up at him from under my lashes. “I wouldn’t say no.”
The double whammy of his dimples hits me hard when he smiles. The man is more beautiful than he has a right to be, even if it’s in a rough, masculine sort of way that he’d never admit was beauty.
He’d be wrong.
“Now what?”
“Now we go home.”
The warm feelingI get from the wordhomelasts approximately ten seconds after we step out of the door of the room and into a wide hallway.
Magnolia rushes toward us. “You aren’t leaving here until you tell me what the fuck is going on. I deserve to know.”
Kane stills beside me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Where is he? Have you heard anything? I deserve to know.”
I glance between the man at my side and the distraught woman in front of me. Her crimson corset is set off with a tiny black leather miniskirt. She’s practically vibrating out of her five-inch stilettos.
“Not here, and this is not the time.”
“You are not leaving until I have some goddamned answers. No one will tell me anything.” She skirts around us and shoves open the door to the room we just vacated. “I’ll have the valets slice every one of your tires, so don’t even try to walk out on me before I get answers.”
Kane’s expression, already unreadable, turns to stone. “You don’t tell me what I’m going to do.”
“You owe me.”
Kane’s jaw ticks, but he follows her inside the room with me in tow.
“She doesn’t know,” he says as soon as she shuts the door behind me. “But apparently you don’t give a shit, so you’re going to force the issue.”
My gaze bounces between them like I’m watching Forrest Gump play Ping-Pong. “Will someone tell me what the hell you’re talking about?”
“Your brother,” Magnolia says as she crosses her arms over her corset.
I stare at her like I’ve just learned English as a second language. “Wait. You and my brother ...”
