Page 78 of Their Ruthless Sadist

“Sorry,” I said as I took a seat across from her. “Busy at work. Got a day full of interviews.”

Jamie stared back at me, and it was obvious she didn’t buy my bullshit.

“Or you didn’t want me to have a chance to talk to your toys,” she stated, her tone curious but not quite questioning.

I kept my expression masked. The last thing I wanted was for Jamie to worry about me. She might’ve been my kid sister, but I knew she worried about me as much as I worried about her. And after the debacle with my ex four years ago, she was always touchy when she thought I might be getting close to someone.

Not that I had. Not before the fuck toys and not now.

“So, how’s school?” I asked after the waitress had delivered my coffee and confirmed my order.

“Good.”

Of course it was.

“I have a question for you,” she finally stated after a few minutes of strained silence.

“What’s that?”

“Have you ever wondered why someone would need the pain you dish out?”

Okay. Wow. If she’d meant to shock me, she certainly achieved her goal. I frowned as I sipped my coffee. To be honest, I hadn’t thought Jamie knew all that much about my … kink. Sure, she knew I went to clubs, and she knew I was into BDSM, but I hadn’t been aware that she knew of my desire to hurt people.

“And I’m not being judgmental, Zeke,” she clarified. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with your sadistic side.”

“Is that the psychologist speaking? Or my sister?”

“Both,” she said with a grin. “And yes, I’ve wondered what makes you tick. Why you get pleasure from … doing what you do.”

At least she was mindful of the others around us. Not everyone was okay with hearing that someone wanted to beat on someone else. I’d had people accuse me of being abusive, but that wasn’t the case. I didn’t go around hitting people for the hell of it. And I never hit someone out of anger. Never.

“But I’m even more curious as to why someone would need it from you.” There wasn’t any accusation in her tone or her gaze. “Are people born that way? Or does their past mold them, make them desire it?”

I took another sip of my coffee. “Couldn’t say. I don’t have the desire to be hit.”

“Nor do I,” she said with a grin. “Although I wouldn’t mind being spanked.”

“Okay.” I set my coffee cup on the table. “That’s TMI, my dear sister. Please don’t sit here and tell me that shit.”

Jamie laughed, and I suspected she enjoyed getting a rise out of me. “Fine. I won’t tell you. But have you ever wondered about the masochists you play with? What drives them? Why they need what they need?”

“No.” And I wasn’t about to start now.

“Liar.” She giggled again and took a sip of her juice. “You might want everyone else to believe you’re a hard-core badass, but I know you, Zeke. I know that you have a soft, mushy center.”

I frowned. “Now you’re just being a brat.” It was time to change the subject. “Have you talked to Edge?”

Her face flushed. “Yes. I have.”

“And…?”

“And what? If we’re not going to talk about your kinks, we’re certainly not gonna talk about mine.”

I didn’t want to believe my sister had kinks, but I didn’t say as much. Thank God the waitress opted to bring our food because the mere thought of Jamie and Edge together … yeah, I’d rather dig into my own psyche than think about that shit.

I got the feeling today wasn’t going to be a good day.

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