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If it weren’t for her missing panties, the ache between her thighs, the lingering taste of him on her tongue, and the ghost of his touch on her skin, she might have believed she’d made up the entire event.
How am I supposed to go back to my real life now?
Chapter One
Three years later
Iwish there was any other way.
With a disbelieving sigh, Sasha unzipped her suitcase and pulled out the glossy, faux-leather ensemble with big silver buckles.
The outfit seemed to mock her. She was in too deep and had no idea what the hell she was doing.
That wasn’t the first time the thought had occurred to her.
Which was why she was standing in a hotel room of a fancy Winter Park, Colorado lodge.
A week ago, when she’d walked into the specialty novelty store filled with all kinds of skimpy clothing, items for bachelorette parties, and a dizzying array of toys for adult escapades, she’d stood there in shock.
The helpful young clerk, maybe noticing how wide and unblinking her eyes were, had taken pity on her.
Searching for calm, she’d informed him she’d be visiting a BDSM club for the first time, and he’d guided her to the far, forbidden corner of the store, hidden behind thick, red velvet curtains.
Quickly, she’d learned nothing could have prepared her for seeing the shocking items in person—gags, blindfolds, paddles, whips, clamps, and other items she assumed were supposed to go inside her rear. How they would fit, she had no idea.
Saving her from her galloping thoughts, the clerk had tipped his head to one side, as if studying her body shape, then he’d plucked a hanger from a rack and assured her it was the right look for the event.
He’d talked her into adding a crop with a small, puffy pink heart on the top.
If she played with anyone—which she didn’t intend to—the implement would be a great introduction to impact play.
Because he made sense, she’d allowed herself to be talked into the purchase.
Desperate to escape the shop, she’d offered her credit card, then strode toward the exit as fast as she could, opaque plastic bag clutched in hand.
Now, as she studied the outfit, Sasha realized she was stalling.
She’d bought it for a single reason. To get Gregorio’s attention.
Would it?
With a sigh, she transferred the outfit to the bed. The stark contrast between the white duvet cover and the shiny black material shocked her, and suddenly a whole new set of doubts assailed her.
In her years as a security specialist for one of the largest firms on the planet and now as the owner of her own private investigation firm, she’d adopted plenty of disguises.
More often than not, she tucked her long hair into a thick ponytail and donned a baseball cap, extra-large sweatshirt, and some sort of jacket to hide her weapons of choice, then slipped on a pair of oversize sunglasses and headed out. Invisible, blending in, she was able to surveil suspects who had security of their own.
Even if she was in a formal dress, pretending to fit in among the country’s elite, it was as if she were wearing a layer of armor.But this costume of sorts…?This would be like slipping into a stranger’s skin.
Before she could pick up the skirt, the piercing ring of her phone shattered the silence.
She jumped, testament to the fact she was on edge.
Her nerves had been frayed ever since she’d discovered her home office had been ransacked and case files had been strewn across the floor.
More disturbingly, several were missing.
The invasion was a violation of her sanctuary, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable in a way she never had been before.