Page 17

Chapter sixteen

San was so different today.

Gone was the uncertainty and concern. No more wondering where my limits were. She was ready to go.

I saw it the moment we stepped into the mall. Her head was high, her back straight, her shoulders square. She wore a loose pink sundress that clung to every curve, which was perfect, because I was going to spend the afternoon trailing behind her.

Three steps behind, to be exact, my hands hanging loose at my sides. Ready to carry whatever she wanted. Ready to serve. The arctic air-conditioning of the mall did nothing to cool the heat simmering beneath my skin.

This little shopping trip was good for me.

I was gonna get my rocks off, yes, but it was also the perfect distraction from Paradox shit.

I didn't have to think about my conversation with the guys last night.

I told them something was off, that I'd been feeling off.

They said they felt it, too, but didn't wanna press me.

As much as I appreciated that, it didn't make me feel better.

In fact, I felt worse. I felt even further from the truth, whatever it was.

So, yeah, I needed this. I needed San .

I watched her fingers trail over racks of clothing, imagining her as a princess selecting treasures meant only for her. I held onto the items she planned to try on, loving the fact that she didn’t waste a second of her precious time checking price tags.

That shit was for peasants.

When I laid the dresses out on the counter at Nordstrom, I felt a rush. The salesman chatted me up while he scanned the items, but my attention stayed on San—who looked bored and spoiled and over it .

Yes, Princess.

It was so perfect.

I shifted my stance, feeling the strain of my arousal pressing against my jeans. I hoped she knew what she was doing to me. How much I was loving this shit.

By the time we left Nordstrom, I was carrying three heavy bags. My muscles burned slightly, but I loved every second of it.

San didn’t say thank you.

She didn’t say shit.

And she didn’t have to.

Next stop, Saks. Same routine. Total went up. More bags. More ignoring me.

Dick even harder.

A woman shot me a strange look, eyeing the bags I held, then flicked her gaze to San, who still hadn’t acknowledged my existence.

I didn’t care.

It wasn’t until we stopped in front of the Prada store that she turned toward me, her eyes roaming my face.

“You okay back there?”

I smiled. She wasn’t concerned, she was teasing me .

I adjusted the bags, shifting their weight in my arms. I stepped closer to her, staring into her eyes.

“I’ve never been better, Princess.”

She bit her lip, eyes darkening, and turned away, stepping into the store without another word.

She bought us matching leather wallets, then handed me the bags, marching out of the store while the saleswoman thanked me.

My skin felt tight. My pulse thrummed wildly in my throat.

I caught up to her, speaking directly in her ear.

“San.”

She didn’t turn. Didn’t acknowledge me.

I touched her arm. “Princess.”

She stopped walking, turning slowly, raising an eyebrow like I was a big inconvenience.

I exhaled sharply. “I’m going to the men’s room real quick.”

Her smile was sweet and deadly.

She knew .

I waited for her answer. She tilted her head, studying me, deciding my fate. Then she shrugged.

“Not yet.”

I swallowed hard. “San—“

She stepped closer, pressing a delicate finger to my chest, right over my pounding heart. “I’ll let you know when you’re allowed.”

The words shot straight to my dick, tightening the growing knot in my stomach, leaving my throat dry.

But all I could do was nod. “Yes, Princess.”

She turned and walked off, leaving me breathless and unhinged.

It was gonna take all my strength not to cum in my pants.

Our last stop was Sorel, a seafood restaurant adjacent to the mall. San slid onto a stool at the bar like she owned the place. She crossed her legs, ordered an appetizer, and scrolled lazily on her phone.

I sat at a table a few feet away where I could see her, but not be with her.

She didn’t glance in my direction.

I ordered a Manhattan, watching her like a creep. Every bite of food she took, every casual flick of her fingers over her screen, every minute she spent ignoring me…it all drove me insane.

I shifted in my seat, pressing my thighs together, trying to relieve some of the pressure.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

Please, Princess. Can I go now?

I watched her as she glanced at her screen, paying close attention to the way her lips curled at the corner.

Then she answered.

San

No.

Baby you’re killing me

Five agonizing minutes passed. Then ten. My dick jumped as I watched her, over and over, desperate for some fucking relief.

I was about to break.

Then my phone buzzed.

San

You can go now

I shot out of my seat so fast, I almost knocked the chair over. I didn’t give a fuck, though. I made my way to the men’s room, pushing inside, heading straight for the last stall.

My heart thudded as I fumbled with my belt, ready to relieve some of the pressure.

The door creaked open.

I froze.

Footsteps, slow and delicate.

I turned.

San stood just outside the doorway, her gaze dark.

“Princess—“

She stepped closer, pressing a finger to my lips. “No.”

I nodded, barely able to restrain myself.

She turned, lifted her dress, and met my gaze in the mirror.

“Come take what’s yours.”

I was on her in half a second, pressing against her back, my hands skimming over her hips. I groaned on entry, gripping her waist as I moved against her, claiming what was mine the way she wanted me to.

I stared at her face in the mirror, at the way her lips parted, her pupils dilated, her brows knitted with pleasure. I wasn’t gonna last, and I think she knew that. The way she arched for me, throwing it back, I didn’t think she minded.

“Fuck,” I groaned. “I love you.”

Her eyes widened, then watered. “I love you, too.”

That did it.

I came inside her, burying my face in the crook of her neck, my body jerking as the pressure finally popped.

I sat at the front of the lecture hall watching students scribble frantically in their blue books.

In this technology era, they hated having to write on paper, but it’s like I told them; if y’all’s asses didn’t cheat and use artificial intelligence to do your work, we wouldn’t have to conduct class like it was 1995.

The semester was almost over, but I couldn’t celebrate until the last grade went in. Then there would potentially be grade disputes. Requests for recommendation letters. Advice I needed to give. And of course, the continuous and mind-numbing politics of academia.

But I wouldn’t trade my job for a damn thing.

I took another scan of the room before I picked up my phone, taking a brief break from proctoring.

I wanna see you after work. Taking you somewhere special

San

Somewhere expensive?

Do you even have to ask?

San

Good boy

My breath hitched slightly. Ever since our shopping day, and us revealing our feelings, I’d been on an emotional high. Opening up to her hadn’t been as hard as I thought, but that’s typical man shit, I guess. It took her chaining my ass up to get me to let her in all the way.

In the future, I needed to do better.

Tonight’s reservations had already been made. A private rooftop dinner with a jazz quartet. Penthouse suite overlooking the city. Full spa day tomorrow. I planned on making sure she felt as pampered and worshiped as she made me feel secure.

The clock slowly ticked down. I gave a final warning with five minutes to go, watching as students began turning in their exams, some looking hopeful, others already defeated. I barely registered their faces as they dropped the bluebooks on my desk. I was too busy thinking about my night with San.

And my future with her.

Be ready at 7, Princess

No response. Odd, but I didn’t think much of it.

The last student smiled and thanked me as she submitted her test. I grabbed the stack, shoving them into my bag, feeling the weight of the semester lift off me. Then my mind drifted right back to San and how fucking happy she made me.

I already planned to go deeper tonight. I wanted to know where her head was at, and where she saw this going, whether she had the space for a real relationship with three different men.

There was no competition here between me and my brothers, just the question of San and her capacity deal with all of us.

The sex part was easy. It was the relationship part that would take some coordination.

But anything worth having is worth working for. We would do anything to make her happy. To protect her. To love and cherish her.

She deserved it all.

I stopped by my office to lock up, surprised when I checked my phone and there was still no response from San.

Everything else seemed normal. My desk was how I left it. Papers stacked, computer fast asleep, chair slightly askew.

But there was one thing that didn’t belong.

A manila envelope sat on top of my desk. No name, no label, just…there.

It hadn’t been there before class.

I set my phone down slowly, my heart beating a little faster now. I picked the envelope up. It was light, but not empty. I flipped it over, peeled the flap open, and reached inside .

One trifold sheet of plain white paper.

It was a little too heavy to contain words alone. I unfolded it slowly and carefully like it might explode in my hands.

A small plastic rectangle slipped out and landed on the desk with a quiet crack.

My key card.

I knew I’d misplaced it somewhere, but it never occurred to me that somebody might have taken it.

I stared at it, confused, before my eyes drifted to the paper in my hand. It contained just two sentences, typed in bold black ink.

FOUND SOMETHING YOU LOST, PROFESSOR. WHAT ELSE MIGHT YOU LOSE?

A ball formed in my stomach.

I stood frozen, swallowing hard as my brain attempted to make sense of the words.

My breathing shallowed, my chest tightening. Beads of sweat broke out across my forehead .

On instinct, I yanked my phone out of my pocket. No messages. No missed calls. Nothing at all except an emptiness that felt palpable.

You okay?

I waited a couple of minutes.

Nothing.

I stuffed the note in my pocket, grabbed my keycard, and headed out the door. San's office was just across the way in the administrative building. I had a feeling I was overthinking like I usually do, but it didn't matter. I wouldn't feel right until I laid eyes on her.

I stepped out into the parking lot. The air was thick with humidity, but there was something else. Something eerie. Ominous.

Just before I reached my car, I heard it, loud and shrill.

Tires screeched across the lot.

I froze, my body instantly on alert. My eyes shifted toward the sound. A nondescript black SUV sped away, its tires emitting white smoke.

San’s car was still parked .

A prickle of unease crawled up my spine.

You still in your office?

No response.

I called. Straight to voicemail.

My pulse kicked up, my throat growing dry as I strode toward the administrative building.

Luckily, someone was exiting the locked double doors; I pushed right through the glass doors, squeezing past the man, bypassing the elevator to take the stairs two at a time.

Her office was down the hall. I sped up my stride.

Empty.

I scanned the small room and noticed it immediately.

Her purse, still sitting on the desk. Her keys. Her phone.

I scrubbed a hand down my face, breathing hard.

Something was wrong.

I turned on my heel and sprinted to security.

“Aye, something’s up,” I barked at Kenneth the second I reached the booth. He looked up form his phone, startled.

“What’s wrong? ”

“My girlf—my coworker. She’s gone, but all her stuff is in her office.”

Kenneth shrugged. “Probably went to the bathroom.”

“Nah.” I said it like I was sure, because I was. You don’t accumulate forty kills under your belt without learning how to read the signs. “Somebody peeled out of the lot a second ago. I need to see the video.”

Kenneth hesitated. “Doc, I can’t—“

“Now!” I slammed my palm against the glass. “This shit is serious, man.”

Something in my face must have convinced him. He set his phone down and slid over to his laptop, pressing a button to let me in the booth.

“What floor is she on?”

“Fifth floor of the admin building. Office number 508.”

I stood behind him, my fists clenching as he rewound the security footage. Every second that passed felt unbearably long.

“Wait.” He stopped, fast forwarded, then hit play. “Shit.”

My heart sank at the sight of a tall figure clad in a suit waiting just outside of Santari's office. I leaned in, squinting to get a better look, but I couldn't make out his face.

He stood stone still for a few minutes. Waiting.

He reached around to knock on the door. She opened it, stuck her head out, and froze.

He moved fast, grabbing her arm. Big mistake, because San didn't go down without a fight.

My chest swelled with pride.

It was shortlived, though, because after she landed her punch, another figure, this one in a hoodie, rounded the corner and pointed a gun at her.

"Fuck," I whispered as I watched the fight go out of her.

They moved fast, grabbing her by the collar and dragging her out into the hall. My jaw clenched as the man jammed the gun into her side. He said something. She hesitated, then nodded.

They moved down the hall and out of the frame.

This wasn’t happening.

It couldn’t be happening .

Kenneth switched cameras, cutting to another angle. The figure led her out of the side exit, forcing her into the waiting black SUV.

“How did he get in the building?” Kenneth said softly. “How’d he get his car past the gate?”

The answer to that question was in my back pocket. It was the answer to what had been plaguing me for months now.

In the bunker. I'd emptied my fucking pockets.

My phone was out, my fingers dialing.

Cruz picked up on the first ring.

“Meet me at the Omega house now! It's Santari!" I clicked off the call before he had a chance to ask questions.

Right now, every second counted.

“Download that for me,” I told Kenneth as I dialed Titan.

"What's up, Storm?"

Meet me at the house now!"

He hesitated, which pissed me off. Time was ticking.

“This better be fuckin' good.”

“It's Santari!"

"What about her? "

"She's been taken."

And that began the hunt. God help the man who got it in his mind to make the biggest mistake of his life.

Finish the Primal Fetish Paradox with Sinful Submission by Stephanie Nicole Norris.