On the left side of the room was a single door and a fancy canvas painting of some mosaic design that covered a large area on the otherwise empty wall. The furniture was a distressed white, French country by design. It all matched, including the nine-drawer dresser with the large mirror on the wall opposite the bed.
“This is beautiful,” I whispered as I turned back to Isaac.
“Bathroom.” He motioned to the far side of the room, then shifted to the right. “Closet.” His arm swung toward the door beside the painting. “My bedroom.”
I smiled. “It’s connected?”
“It is.” He stepped closer, tilted my chin up. “Do you wonder why that might be?”
Heat curled deep inside me. “It’s so you have access to your submissive at all times.”
He smiled and I thought my knees would buckle.
Although nerves stirred in my belly, they had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with my craving for this man. It sometimes shocked me with its intensity. During the drive to their house, Isaac had held my hand the entire time, making me feel as though I belonged to him in some way. I found myself craving that feeling, eager to explore what it might possibly mean. I tried not to think too long or hard on that, though. For one, I’d spent months attempting to keep myself distant from them and in the matter of a few hours, I was already looking forward to more.
“Thank you for letting us stay here,” I told him, keeping my eyes on his.
His thumb brushed the sensitive skin beneath my bruised eye. “I’m glad you’re here. Sorry it’s under these circumstances.”
Yeah, I was, too. The last thing I wanted was his pity.
“Why don’t you take a shower, get comfortable. Come back to the kitchen when you’re ready.”
Although I wished he would, Isaac didn’t kiss me. He merely smiled, then walked back out into the hall, closing the door behind him. I forced my feet to move, grabbing my bag on the way to the bathroom. The space was about five times the size of the one I shared with Heaven at Dante’s. Plus this one was updated. The mirror over the sink matched the furniture in the bedroom. The glass doors on the shower were so clear they were almost invisible.
“Shower,” I muttered to myself, setting the bag on the vanity table beside the sink.
I managed to pass a good thirty minutes while I cleaned up. I changed into a T-shirt and shorts, leaving my feet bare. After unpacking the few things I’d brought, tucking the clothes into the dresser rather than the enormous closet, I couldn’t resist taking a peek in Isaac’s room.
It was probably an invasion of privacy, but I found it intriguing that he’d had the forethought to connect the two rooms. As though he’d always anticipated having a submissive in his home. Perhaps he had. I knew from the rumors around the club that the Stokes twins were looking for two submissives they could share between them. When the stories were told, no one ever mentioned whether they were looking for a male and a female, simply two.
Since the rooms connected, did that mean he intended to have a submissive who wouldn’t sleep in his bedroom? But still be accessible?
While some would’ve thought it off-putting, I didn’t. In fact, I purposely made no judgments on others. It wasn’t my place. I preferred they didn’t judge me, so knew I had to offer the same in return.
I opened the door and stepped from my room into Isaac’s. The difference between the two was drastic. There was nothing soft about this room. Light furniture and dark blue walls gave it a masculine vibe. The ceiling was brilliant white, far taller than the one in the room I was staying in.
The bed was the centerpiece. The headboard was a rectangle comprised of many single pieces of wood woven together but not quite connecting. The footboard was even with the mattress and thick. I’d seen something similar on one of the HGTV shows. I was pretty sure there would be a television that rose out of it.
The nightstands were chests with three drawers, a lamp and clock on one and nothing on the other. The wall to the right of the bed was floor-to-ceiling windows with doors that appeared to open all the way back. The navy curtains were open, revealing the concrete porch that led to the shimmering swimming pool and the circular hot tub, a bit higher and connected, the water pouring out of it into the pool.
There was a click behind me, and I turned in time to see Isaac coming out of what I assumed was his bathroom, a towel wrapped around his lean hips, another he used to dry his hair.
He smiled. “Taking a tour, I presume.”
