I observe Adam as he goes deep into pensive mode, both of us looking at each other without saying a word, trying to decide how to navigate this conversation.

If he didn't come here with Sawyer, I would've ignored him. But even if Sawyer has idiot friends and can be an idiot himself sometimes, he does try to be a good brother. He’d never knowingly let them lie to me or manipulate me.

Tonight, Sawyer’s gone as far as taking William off my hands so I can have this conversation with Adam. So regardless of how crazy it gets, I know this is serious.

Besides, I can't shake off the feeling that there's something familiar about this man, although I can't place him. I wonder if he knows why. It certainly looks like he does.

“So . . .?” I break the silence.

The food’s getting cold, but I don’t care anymore. At the very least, William’s already eating—I can hear his giggle and one of Sawyer’s funny voices from the living room.

“So this is going to sound strange, but I want you to hear me out.” Adam appears different from the way he was at the beginning of the night. More confident. A lot more assertive. It’s like he was caught off guard before, but he’s regained his footing now.

“Okay,” I say, partly because I’m curious to find out what this is all about, and to be honest, partly because he speaks in such an authoritative way.

“Remember when you worked at The Succubus?” he asks.

My heart skips a beat.

“How do you know that?” I stare at him, trying to figure him out. This is getting curiouser and curiouser.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says dismissively. “So you admit that you used to work there?”

“Of course, it matters.” I realize my volume’s getting louder, so I close my mouth and take a deep breath.

I don’t want William to hear this, even if he probably wouldn’t understand anyway. And Sawyer would be disappointed to hear about my shameful experience working at The Succubus.

In a whisper, I ask, “Did Sawyer tell you? Did he investigate me?”

I can’t believe Sawyer would do that to me. But if he didn’t do it, then how does this stranger know about my dark past?

“No, he . . .” Adam stops to reconsider. “Actually, in a way, he kind of did. But it wasn’t like what you’re thinking.”

“What does that even mean? You don’t know what I’m thinking.”

“You’re thinking Sawyer specifically looked into your past for me. For money,” Adam says, guessing precisely what’s on my mind.

“And you’re saying he didn’t?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” He shoots me a smile that makes my heart flip.

“So what did he do, then? And what did you do?”

“I hired Sawyer to help me find you,” Adam says. He chuckles softly and adds, “He spent two years trying to do that, without even knowing that it’s you I’ve been looking for.”

I frown.

So that means . . . If tonight’s not the first time we meet and he knows I used to work at The Succubus . . .

Could he be . . .

I mean, I only worked there that one night before the whole thing got me spooked.

And the very thing that scared me was . . .

That masked man. The one who took me into the private room.

Could this man sitting in front of me right now be him?

Could it be that, after I quit the job, the very man who ruined The Succubus for me has now found me?

Man, if my guess is right, I seriously have the worst luck.

“Who are you?” I ask him directly.

“You don’t remember me?” he asks, gazing at me with his sharp, penetrating green eyes.

As our eyes meet, it feels like I’m noticing him for the first time.

Our surroundings are completely different, now that we’re in my home instead of at some secret sex club. As a general rule, I don’t expect the best lay of my life, whom I met at some secret sex club, to just waltz into my kitchen with my brother and my son—or should I say our son now?

I study his features.

Green eyes. Dark hair. Strong, chiseled jawline. The stubble’s gone, and his skin tone is a little darker . . . but it’s him.

It’s him.

The guy who paid me for sex.

Oh, and the father of my child.

God. That is so fucked up. My life is fucked up.

I can’t let my past mistakes hurt William, too. He deserves better. Which means it’s probably best for us both to have no more dealings with this guy.

At the same time, this guy has a right to know.

When I first found out I was pregnant, I tried to find the masked man.

But, know what a secret sex club is really good at, besides creating a sexy atmosphere? That’s right. Keeping secrets.

Nobody would tell me anything, not even after I told them why I needed the information. I talked to Kendra, Monica, and even a couple of the girls who’d briefly chatted with me on my first and only night working there.

As far as the club was concerned, I was probably some extortionist skank trying to blackmail one of their esteemed guests.

I don’t blame them; not really. I’m pretty sure some girls have tried to do that before. And without the guy vouching for me, it was impossible for them to know if we’d really had sex, or even if he’d really existed.

I mean, I didn’t even know his name at that point. I had no idea it was Adam.

I examine his face closely. If I imagine a mask over the top half, I can almost see the masked man from The Succubus.

But at the same time, I wonder if that’s just because of the power of suggestion, given what he’s already told me about himself.

“Are you starting to remember . . . kitten?” Adam asks in a low, seductive voice as he levels his intense gaze at me.

All my doubt evaporates.

He has to be that masked man. Which also means that . . . he’s the father of my child.

My blood runs cold. My skin prickles with goosebumps.

What’s he doing here? Why has he been looking for me? Does he know about William? Is he here to take William away from me?

No, don’t get all paranoid, I tell myself. He probably doesn’t even know.

It’s been three years since that night. In these three years, I’ve thought about this man many, many times.

At first, I tried to forget about him. Then the pregnancy test came back positive, and I tried to find him, to no avail. So, after that, I tried to forget about him again.

I haven’t been able to forget, though.

Sometimes, when things get especially difficult, I even fantasize about having him by my side, relieving some of the burden from my shoulders and having warm, fuzzy, father-and-son moments with William.

Often, when I lie awake at night, trying to go to sleep after William’s woken me up, yet again, I replay the scenes from my memory, remembering the way he completely owned me, body and soul, even if only for a short while.

But those are just fantasies.

In reality, I’m on my own. Sawyer tries to help me whenever he can, but I’m careful not to put too much burden on him. William’s my responsibility, after all.

Also, in reality, our one night of passion meant nothing. It was just momentary pleasure.

Adam gave me money like I was a common whore—after what I thought was a sensual, beautiful awakening. I was nothing but some girl to fuck, to him.

And even though it’s been three years, why should he view me any different? Until tonight, there’s been zero interaction between us since our little . . . transaction.

“What do you want?” I ask. “Why are you here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Adam asks, cocking an eyebrow as he leans closer over the table.

I shake my head. “Not at all.”

“You,” he says with so much feeling I start to doubt myself. He adds, “I want you.”

“And that’s why you hired Sawyer?” I ask incredulously.

“Yes.” Adam shrugs.

I know rich people spend money like water, but it’s ridiculous. So this is the never-ending, missing-person case that got Sawyer the capital he needed to expand his business?

It occurs to me how shit my brother must be at his job, but this is not the time to be worrying about him.

“Why me? None of the other girls at The Succubus would let you fuck them?” I ask, deliberately slipping in a curse word to let him know I don’t buy his act.

Adam winces like he’s in physical pain. “Do you curse in front of the baby, too?”

“None of your fucking business,” I snap back, even though I’ve actually toned down the expletives since William was born. “Tell me why you really want to find me. The other girls didn’t think you were paying them enough?”

“I wouldn’t know. I never even talked to any of the other girls,” he says.

I laugh. That’s funny. “Yeah, sure. I believe you.”

“You should. It’s the truth.” Adam gets up on his feet and steps toward me, circling my chair. He leans against the table with a confident smile on his handsome face. “Nobody’s ever caught my attention the way you did. Nobody’s ever gotten me obsessed the way you have.”

“So what you’re saying is, I was a good fuck, and now you want an encore.” I’m not going to let him fool me into thinking it was just good, old attraction followed by the sharing of mutual pleasure, when in fact, what we had was a lurid exchange of sex for money. I won’t let him forget that.

“What I’m saying, kitten, is that I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” he says smoothly as his brilliant, green eyes gaze at me longingly.

“Yeah? So you’re telling me you haven’t even had sex with anybody else in these three years?” I fold my arms over my chest and challenge him.

“Yeah,” he says casually.

Again, I laugh. “You must think I’m an idiot if you expect me to believe that.”

“It’s the truth, kitten,” Adam says. “By the way, when you said you were mine, I thought you were telling the truth, too.”

“When did I . . .” I let my question hang in the air.

Okay, yeah, I remember saying something like that. I remember because it’s part of the filthy folder of memories I store in my brain. But I don’t have to tell him about that.

“Is it all coming back to you now?” Adam smirks.

It’s like he can read my thoughts. Just like he did on that night.

“It was just something I said in the heat of the moment,” I say, feeling my face heat up under his scrutiny. “I mean, if I said it at all, that is. You could be making this stuff up.”

This whole time, I’ve made myself believe that it probably wasn’t as intense as I remember, that my memories have been distorted by time, that he couldn’t have been that charming, or persuasive, or sexy.

But every little word that comes out of his mouth makes me heart race just a little bit faster.

It’s been a while since the last time I felt like this. The butterflies in my stomach; the gallop of my heartbeat; the restlessness in my extremities. In fact, after the high-school, puppy-love phase, Adam’s the only man who’s ever made me feel this way.

He leans down until his face is just inches away from mine. I can almost feel his breath on my skin, and it makes me want to close the gap between us.

Somehow, despite the magnetic pull tugging me toward Adam, I stop myself. I stare back into his eyes, green like two pools of cool water on a hot day, luring me closer and closer.

“I know you remember, kitten,” he says. “I can see it in your eyes. I can see everything in your eyes.”

I’d question that assertion if he hadn’t actually figured me out. But try as I may to deny it, I know he can really read me. Like a book.

I avert my gaze.

“You can say whatever you want,” Adam says. “But we both know there’s something here, and I’m not letting you go just like that. Not again.”

Who does he think he is, trying to force his way into my life like this?

“Have you ever thought that maybe, just possibly, it’s not up to you?” I ask, still looking away from him with my arms crossed over my chest.

“Of course,” he says. “But it’s not up to you either. You know it. I know it. Neither one of us has any control here—not really.

“We’re both slaves to this . . . I don’t even know what to call it. This thing in the air when you’re around. This feeling, like there’s electricity crackling in the air, like it could strike me at any moment, but I yearn for it anyway. It feels like something magical.”

Slowly, I turn to rest my gaze on him. How did he . . .?

“Yeah. You’ve felt it, too,” Adam says. “You meant it when you said you were mine. You may not have been aware of that, but I was.”

“Wow. You’re pretty full of yourself, aren’t you?” I ask, spitting out the words.

He’s making me really angry. But more than that, it freaks me out how well he seems to read me. A thin film of sweat forms on my skin.

“Like I said, you can say whatever you want, but we both know the truth. You’re mine,” Adam declares with complete certainty as he grabs my chin and forces me to look at him.

I give him a flat stare and remain quiet. The promise in his voice sends a shudder down my spine, making it hard for me to collect my thoughts.

“When I told you to come with me and you did, you were mine,” Adam says. He lightly runs the tips of his fingers down my upper arm. “When I told you to get naked and you did, you were mine.”

His touch leaves a trail of little goosebumps on my sensitive skin. It hasn’t escaped his attention. He smirks as he rests a hand on my knee.

“When I told you to spread your legs and you did it—” his hand travels up my thighs over my jeans “—you were mine.”

I swallow, but the lump in my throat remains.

Adam lifts his hand up to caress my cheek. “And when you had my baby, you were mine.”