Stunned speechless, I pick up the card. It’s plain, off-white. Heavy stock. Dark red ink. The only thing written on it is a phone number with a New York area code.

I sit up and lower my feet to the carpet. Miles stirs behind me. “You all right, Jillian?”

The bed jiggles up and down like a boat at the mercy of an angry ocean. Definitely feels like seasickness in my gut, but it’s not because the men are jostling me.

I’m freezing. I hunch over, wrapping arms around my knees to stave off the chill. A hand touches my back, and I jump.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I say over my shoulder. “I gotta go.”

“You should stay with Miles for a few minutes,” Red says. “You need some aftercare, and so does he. I’ll tend to him shortly. In the meantime, I’ll leave you two alone.”

Thank you, Master. I bite off my scathing reply. I fucking hate the way Red acts like he knows what’s best for me. And did he seriously just blow off his partner after everything he put Miles through? What a prickly little cunt.

I stab him with eye daggers.

Red dismounts the bed, stuffs his undone cock into his leather pants, and shakes out his long hair.

“Thank you for your service,” he says pointedly to me. He slides his fingers up Miles’s hairy leg. “See you in a bit.”

Miles nods, and Red leaves. A swell of loud, bubbly humanity breaks the silence and then fades when the door shuts behind him.

I thought coming here would be safe. That within these gold walls, we’d be sheltered from everything and everyone else. That whatever happened would remain sacred among the four of us, if only for an hour or so.

Nothing went according to plan.

I’m furious. About Red. About Siren. About the stranger.

“What the hell was that about?” I point my chin toward the door. “Was Red trying to ‘Dom’ me?” I make air quotes. “Because he can save that shit for someone who wants it.”

Miles’s brow furrows. “Why are you mad?”

“I don’t …” like him, “know.”

“Maybe you had different expectations,” he suggests.

“Well, you got me there.”

His face falls. I instantly regret the words and scoot closer to explain.

“I didn’t mean anything against you. You were wonderful, just as you’ve always been. Red’s a lucky guy.”

I trace an angry welt down Miles’s chest. My skin puckers at the sight of it. Though, sitting beside him without a stitch of clothing on either of us after he fucked me stupid has little impact on my modesty.

“But watching him hurt you was tough. Are you okay? I mean really okay?”

“Are you kidding?” A goofy grin splits his mouth. He looks down at himself. The smile widens as he follows the red marks with his eyes. “Yeah. I’m better than okay. Thanks to you. And him. And her.” He turns his head away.

Her. Right.

“Who was she?” I ask. “You know her. She called you by your real name.”

He shrugs. “I may have seen her around the club.”

“Yeah, like every single time you come here?”

He doesn’t reply.

“Her name?”

“I can’t say.”

I cock a brow. “How about the voyeur?” Racing blood thunders against my eardrums.

“You’d have to speak to Siren about him.”

“Nobody asked for my permission to bring in a fifth.” I spring off the bed and stomp over to my clothes.

“You could’ve asked him to go. You could’ve left the scene at any time,” Miles defends, his face clouded with a sprinkle of guilt.

“That kind of consent is dubious, at best.” I wriggle into my dress. “You don’t just invite a stranger to an intimate sex romp without making sure all parties involved are on board with it.”

“Okay, you’re right,” he concedes. “She should’ve told you up front that someone might join the scene. But you have to admit. You were on board with it. Just a little.”

I blow a wisp of hair from my eyes and pause my feverish belt buckling. “No, I let it pass because in the heat of the moment, getting you, Red, and Siren off seemed more pressing. In hindsight, I should’ve bailed. How long before a Jillian Frost sex tape surfaces online? I can see Letty Dillinger’s face now. ‘Wow, Mom, didn’t know you had it in you. Two gay guys, a bossy lesbian, and a mystery man jerking off in the corner? You got room for one more?’”

Ugh!

“Number one,” he counters, “cell phones aren’t permitted within the club. They’re confiscated at the door, so he didn’t tape anything. Number two, if you’re gonna be mad, direct your anger at Siren. It was her … bodyguard.”

Her what? What the hell have I gotten into?

“She’s so important, she has a bodyguard? Who the fuck is this woman?”

“Come on, Jillian, the rules are in place for a reason.”

Rounding on him, I shove a finger in his face. “Rules are made to be broken.”

“That’s bold, considering you’ve never broken a rule in your life.” He pauses as he watches me bend over for my heels. “I think you’re pissed because she left the way she did.”

For being so smart, Miles is really fucking dumb. Of course, I’m pissed she left like that.

I hitch a hand to my hip. “Or maybe it’s because she and your boyfriend shoved you and me into a situation where neither of us could really say no.”

He snaps backward as if I struck him. “You can always say no.”

Thoroughly irritated, I sit on the edge of the mattress and jab my feet into their respective shoes. I can’t believe Siren left the purple-masked guy to finish her business for her. No goodbye or even a “fuck you” from her. This evening earns high marks in both the “Worst Life Choices” and “Best Night of My Life” categories.

I’m so fucking confused.

I need a cigarette.

I sigh. “You’re right. I could’ve said no. I could’ve asked the guy to split. I could’ve done a lot of things differently, but it’s over now. I’m out for real this time.”

Miles grasps my upper arm. “Before you go, tell me you’re all right. I need to know we’re all right.”

I nail him with a scowl. “We’re fine. I have to be at the airport early tomorrow, and it’s way past my bedtime.” And I desperately need to process shit without my ex worrying over my shoulder about whether he did the right thing by fucking me.

Truth is, I don’t even care about that part. It’s not like we haven’t fucked before. And it wasn’t that we did it while he was impaled on another guy’s cock either.

My frustration is all about her.

How she watched like a raptor spying on a helpless, weak rodent from her perch high in the trees. The hunger flaring in her eyes as she shifted in her seat, flashing me glimpses of her wet pussy while she fingered it to climax.

She stared at me. Not Miles. Not Red. Me.

And then she left.

Another swell of conflicting emotions confuses my endorphin-thick blood. My body can’t decide if it’s high as a kite or about to shut down for thirty hours of sleep. Or both.

“I’m sorry the session wasn’t what you expected,” Miles says softly.

I run a hand through my hair. “I assumed tonight’s adventures would be a toe-dip in the pool, not a full-blown belly flop.”

Miles wraps me in a hug. “You were blindsided. That’s my fault. Again, I’m sorry.”

Even though his dick hangs out of cut up pants, and he’s dressed like a soldier who survived a bayonet slash to the chest, he’s still my Miles. Still my friend. Maybe my only friend.

“It’s okay.” I pull away a few inches, then strike quickly with a soft kiss. He watches me through it, more like an observer than a participant. When our lips part, I pat his cheek. “Thank you.”

He nods slowly. I head to the door.

“You’re a good ex-husband,” I say, resting a hand on the knob. “Make sure you get that aftercare Red promised you. I’d hate to have to kick his ass.”

He laughs. “I will. Check in with me tomorrow?”

I nod.

The business card lying on the sheets catches my attention. I go over and pick it up, flip the thick stock over a couple times, and return to the door.

I fling one last look at Miles. Grinning from the bed, he props himself on his elbows. He organized the entire scene as some kind of “gift” for me. If it hadn’t been so exhilarating, I might’ve have taken the riding crop to him myself, and not in the good way.

But he meant well. He always means well.

Miles had the key to the lock on the cage I didn’t know I was trapped in.

And Siren opened my door to freedom.

I tuck the card in my handbag.

Turning the knob, I chuckle bitterly amid the dizzying fuckery accosting my mind. “I owe you one.”

“Love you, Jillian.”

I throw up a bird finger. “Fuck you too, Miles.”

His laughter follows me out into the bustling hall.