“It’s late,” I told them. “And I’m sure you’re exhausted; however, I’m not sure when you last ate. Are you hungry?”
Both men looked at me and nodded. Now that I thought about it, until a few minutes ago, I wasn’t sure either of them had said anything—except to answer my questions—since they emerged from the aftercare rooms.
“Good. So am I.” I looked at the cowboy. “Since you’re the chef, you have free rein of my kitchen.”
His eyes widened as they should. My home had top-of-the-line everything, including a chef’s kitchen. I wasn’t the greatest cook in the world, but I could hold my own. Plus, my baby sister loved spending time in there, making a mess while she worked to concoct something amazing. I would admit, her cooking skills weren’t any better than mine, but I generally suffered through simply because it put a smile on her face.
“The fridge is stocked, so make whatever sounds appealing. I prefer meat over vegetables and keep the carbs to a minimum. If there’s anything you need for future meals, jot it down and I’ll have it delivered.”
“Yes, Zeke. Thank you,” the cowboy said.
I stepped back out of the way, signaling for him to get started. While he took care of dinner, I had plans for the pretty boy. Plans that included him taking care of me.
“You. Back upstairs. I need to shower.”
A smile formed on his lips as he said, “Yes, Zeke.”
*
Case
(The pretty boy)
I WAS STILL TRYING TO wrap my head around the fact that Zeke Lautner lived in a fucking mansion. In fact, the long, winding road up to the place had me feeling as though I was about to greet royalty.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t a traditional mansion but it was ridiculously nice. Honestly, I’d expected him to live in a loft warehouse of some sort. The type with concrete floors, exposed brick, and pipes running along the ceiling joists. This was … not that.
In the living room, which appeared to be the focal point of the downstairs, there were two oversized black leather sofas with an iron coffee table between them. If I wasn’t mistaken, that coffee table doubled as a cage. Whether it was for Tank (I somehow doubted that) or for his human fuck toys, I wasn’t sure. The hardwood floors were sleek and dark, the walls gleamed white, and the fixtures appeared to be black iron. A couple of splatter-paint art pieces—black, white, and red—decorated the one wall that didn’t contain floor-to-ceiling windows.
Based on what little I’d seen, I would venture a guess that it came in close to four thousand square feet with wide-open spaces and a monochromatic theme. I’d noticed two additional bedrooms upstairs when we headed down the hallway to the two guest bedrooms. One looked to be the master bedroom, the other very feminine, as though a woman lived there. However, there was no one else in the house. Not that I could tell, anyway.
I followed Zeke back up the stairs, admiring the impressive staircase as I went. The floating knotted-wood planks stained the same color of the hardwood and decorative wrought iron railing were unique by design. Very impressive.
I had a weird desire to snoop around, to see if I could find what made this guy tick. And maybe I would have, except once we reached the top landing, my body hardened at the thought of what was going to come next.
Honestly, I didn’t care what he intended to do to me. After that scene at the club, I was ready and willing to bow at the man’s feet. No one had ever made me feel what he’d made me feel. The pain, the pleasure. The intensity of it all still lingered even a couple of hours later.
Zeke stepped into the room I’d pegged as the master bedroom. The space was enormous, as was the furniture. Plush gray carpet covered the floor, a huge bed sat on one side of the room, several rectangular windows high up on the wall above it.
I noticed instantly that the bed was constructed of thick, black iron with posts that rose up from the corners and bars across the top. The headboard consisted of several rows of squares—capable of having chains hooked through them, which explained the huge cage beneath the bed, likely built to shelter one of his fuck toys, if I had to guess. It wasn’t the sort of bed you found in a regular home, that was for damn sure.
On the opposite side was a full wall of windows with thick black curtains that were currently pulled back to reveal a sliding glass door. I couldn’t tell what was outside, but I figured it had to be impressive for a room to be set up to overlook it.
There was a matching black dresser, two nightstands, a large armoire, and what appeared to be some sort of chest on the same wall as the dresser. Very modern, very open. Very unexpected.
