Page 10 of The Year of Us: May

I snorted, taking another drink. “You clocked me, didn’t you?”

He knocked his arm into mine with a sly grin.

“I’ve never had anything like it, but I’ve never had anything that wasn’t in a bag.”

Horror washed across his features, and he turned to me, gorgeous blue eyes imploring. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I work nights, Cory,” I reminded him. “I am a coffee drinker.”

“Mud.” He pretended to spit over the edge of the bed.

“We’ll agree to disagree,” I said. “But this is delicious.”

“I’ll brew you another one tomorrow with breakfast,” he said. “For comparison.”

“Do I get breakfast in bed?” I teased, reaching over him to set my now empty cup on the tray. He let his fingers dance across my back, and it took all my strength to not keep myself spread across his lap like a cat.

“You get breakfast wherever you want.” He kissed my shoulder as I unwound myself from his lap, sitting up straight again. “And as for The Black Door, what do you want to know?”

TheBlackDoor. That was it.

“You’ve been to Rapture,” I said. “How are they different?”

“In every way. One hundred percent less blasphemy, for starters.”

“Better whiskey?” I asked.

“Obviously.” Cory finished his tea and set his hand on the top of my thigh. “I think at their core, they’re the same. Room to mingle, room to fuck. There are private and public spaces, just like at yours. But we also have an outdoor patio, which is nice in the fall.”

“What about in the spring?”

“It’s tolerable,” he murmured with another small smile.

“Well,” I said, rolling my shoulders and stretching my arms above my head. The tea had worked…the tea and the fucking had worked. I felt better than I had in years. “I can’t wait for you to take me there.”

CHAPTER7

Cory

When we enteredThe Black Door after a day of sightseeing, I tried to picture this place the way Reese might. I didn’t care what he thought of Times Square—crowded and smelly—but I cared what he thought about this place.

It smelled of money. Of luxury. Of leather and expensive whiskey and submission. Next to Reese’s bed in LA, it was my favorite place to be.

And wasn’t that a mind fuck. I’d known for a while that I was getting in deep with him, but lately it felt like all my carefully hidden vulnerabilities were being exposed. Bit by bit, Reese was unearthing the man I used to be.

I was still me, but once upon a time, I’d been more open. More willing to love and let myself be loved. But that was years ago, before I even found BDSM. Before I stepped into my own as a Dominant. So maybe it wouldn’t have worked out anyway. I wasn’t ready for a man like him back then.

“Somehow I’m not surprised to see so much black leather.” Reese leaned close and whispered low enough so only I heard.

“Well, it’s not called the red door. Or the blue door. Did you want a drink? I’ll get you a real whiskey and take you on a tour.”

“I’d like that.”

Dropping a kiss on Reese’s cheek, I made my way to the bar and ordered a couple of drinks for us. The bartender eyed me with amusement, but didn’t mention my date. I knew, by the end of the night, it would be all over the kink community gossip circle that Cory Callahan brought a man to the club.

I couldn’t give less of a shit than I gave about the rumor mill. Let them all talk about the hot-as-hell man I’d brought with me.

By the time I returned to him with our drinks, I could tell he’d caught on to the attention he was attracting. Taking the drink from my hand, he downed half in one go then looked at me.