Page 14 of Burden of Proof

“So,” Marshall said after I’d taken my seat, giving me one of his trademark calm smiles. “When did you want to go to San Diego?”

CHAPTER 5

LINCOLN

After my emotional meltdown over a fish I hadn’t even owned for more than an hour, Silas kissed me on the mouth and convinced me to head out to Rapture. My best friend’s never-ending affection for me made me want to cry again, but at least those felt more like happy tears. Silas had gotten so lucky when he ended up with Marshall Covington, an older, smarter, and achingly handsome man who also happened to be perfectly okay with the nature of Silas’s relationship with me.

The two of us had always been physically affectionate with each other, often snuggled, sometimes kissing, occasionally scening, though never fucking. For as long as I’d known him, I’d only ever looked at Silas as a friend, but that didn’t change the fact we liked to touch each other. Marshall had been great about the whole thing, not once shying away or encouraging Silas to be different with me after they committed to each other.

I admired the confidence and security that rolled off Marshall in waves and hoped that one day I could find a bit of it for myself. I’d cornered him in his living room a couple months ago, back when the doubts about my interest in dominance had first set in. The whole thing came so easily to him and lately, forme, it felt like a struggle. Not that I didn’t enjoy being dominant, but watching the way Marshall was dominant made me wonder if I’d been faking it the whole time.

He’d told me there was no shame in submission, no harm in switching even. He told me the strongest man he knew was a submissive, and I knew he meant Silas. The confession only made me adore Marshall more, not for myself but for Silas. The two of them were so sickeningly perfect together I knew it was only a matter of time before Marshall stepped into the shoes I wore and slowly—unintentionally—pushed me out of frame.

But I’d let Silas finish getting me dressed, press my car keys into my hand, and tell me where to go. Submissive my ass, I thought, as I drove us to Club Rapture in Pasadena. The kinkiest club I’d ever been to, housed in the walls of an abandoned church, and Silas dragged me up the stairs and immediately onto the dance floor.

He obviously didn’t have eyes for anyone else, knowing Marshall was at home waiting for him, and I didn’t want to look for anyone to play with, considering the atrocious state of my mind since Silas moved out. Instead, we danced for hours until so much sweat poured down the small of my back I didn’t know how I would ever get out of my leather pants.

At the end of the evening, he offered for me to stay at Marshall’s for the night, but I said no, and after getting us both back to my apartment, we said goodnight. I lingered in the parking lot, tossing my phone from hand to hand, staring absently at nothing in particular. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to find someone to play with, it was just that I didn’t want to find someone to play with at Rapture. Not like I was so important that I had a reputation to uphold, but all the regulars knew me as a dominant, and I didn’t want to cruise for someone opposite that until I was certain the change was a real thing and not pretend.

Before I could talk myself out of it—patron saint of indecision and all that—I swiped open the One Night Stand app on my phone and scrolled through the profiles of people in the area. About fourteen people in, one of the faceless torsos stood out from the rest, and I paused, finger hovering over the scroll button. He was an escort, I realized, which…probably wouldn’t be the worst way to try it out if I was serious about the whole thing. I could definitely afford to pay whatever his rates were, and that almost made him a professional. It wasn’t the worst idea, but I also knew it was extremely unsafe to go into that kind of situation without an emergency contact of some kind. Maybe I could write down my location on a Post-it or something. If I went missing, Silas would find it eventually.

Groaning over the logistics, I sent a message.

Tonight?

The reply was almost immediate, like he’d been on his phone and waiting.

CEH13

You host?

I can, but my apartment is a closet.

I can. I have closets but don’t live in one.

Snorting, I scrubbed a hand down my face. Great. The faceless torso had jokes.

What did you want to do?

Wanted to play. Maybe some…wanted to try being spanked.

I can spank you.

What else?

Kneeling.

Have you not?

Normally, I’m the one standing.

I see. So, something easy.

I don’t know if I want EASY.

You do.

Are you seriously telling me what I need already?