Page 17 of Free

“Until last night. That’s where Justin went. Bethany and Raine saw me go into a room with a Dom and called Justin to save me.” I try not to swoon at the look he gives me. “Which he did. I had no intention of sleeping with anyone. But I let him do a number on my back. I realized that—” Remi looks Julia in the eye. “If I didn’t do something about it now, I was going to lose you both forever. So, here I am.”

Julia jumps off his lap and glares at him for all he’s worth.

“Youlethim do a number on you, or you asked him to?”

I can see his pulse throbbing in his throat. My first instinct is to go to him and try to wipe the wide-eyed look of panic off his face, but I realize hers is almost a mirror of his. They’re both terrified of what the other will say.

“Asked.”

“Is it still smarting?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he confirms. He licks his lips with nerves. “I might have gotten carried away.”

I snort at the colossal understatement.

“I wanna see it!” She demands. “Now.”

We’re left with no choice but to follow when she marches back inside.

4

JULIA

If I didn’t need the boys to follow me, I’d slam the door in anger just to make a point.

I’m so upset I’m shaking. He—

I can’t believe he did that. I don’t even knowwhathe did! Only it was bad enough that someone felt he needed intervention and that Justin came home crying and drunk. It’s a BDsM club, for fuck’s sake. There’s very little that isn’t allowed on those premises so long as everyone is consenting and sober.

Remi was obviously consenting.

I come to a stop in the middle of the living room and cross my arms over my chest, trying my damndest not to tap my toes.

“Strip!” I demand when Remi comes to a stop a foot away from me.

The distance between us is not lost on me. He looks to Justin for help, but all Justin does is stick his hands in his pockets and shake his head, fading back until he blends in with the furniture.

Taking a fortifying breath, Remi reaches over his head and yanks on his sweater, dropping it on the floor. He wets his lips, his discomfiture plain in the way his hands hesitate, flexing at his sides. Then he repeats the motion with his shirt, dropping it on top of the sweater.

He doesn’t turn around—simply stands there staring at a spot above my head. His eyes keep flicking to Justin.

My hands are trembling when I brace myself for what’s to come and walk around to his back.

I hiss in a pained breath at the welts that have bloomed across his beautiful skin.

Ruined. Whoever did this—they ruined him. Each lash across his flesh is a rainbow of colors. Outlined in pinks and reds, the middle of each welt fades to purples and blues even as I watch.

It won’t be permanent.

But—

I gasp in a sob before I jerkily wipe my hands under my eyes.

“The rest of it.”

He doesn’t hesitate this time.

His thumbs hook into the sides of his pants, and he shoves both sweats and boxers down in one shove, bending over to pull them from his legs.