Page 51 of Enthrall Ecstasy
He studied me for longer than necessary and then relented. “Coffee?”
“Sure.”
I sat down in the chair opposite his desk while he got up and ambled over to his Keurig. Lifting the pot, he poured two mugs of coffee and then carried them back, handing me one. The scent of rich vanilla beans and toffee filled the room.
It reminded me that I’d missed breakfast.
Wrapping my palms around my mug, I said, “His name’s Darryn Amara.”
“Our trespasser?” He glanced at the screen.
“That’s who the car’s registered to.”
“Hold on a sec,” said Richard, leaning toward his iMac and typing on his keyboard. “Got to reply to this.”
While waiting for him to answer another email, I brought out my phone and entered Enthrall’s portal, sweeping through profiles. I scoured the faces of our submissives, looking for any that might have red hair.
Someone with the look that would get my mind off Rue—a few hours of carnal pleasure would strike her from my memory.
I’d tried everything else.
Three weeks had gone by since I’d last seen her. I couldn’t get the woman out of my mind since I’d dropped her off in Glendale.
Not finding a redheaded submissive’s profile, I tried to distract myself by looking around Richard’s second floor office.
It hadn’t changed much over the years. He’d added a few eclectic items to his shelves, sports memorabilia, mainly from the New York Giants. A silver submissive collar held in a glass box. A whip given to him by Cameron Cole hung on the wall.
It made me wonder if the crop had significance. Perhaps it was used on him in that session with Cameron that had saved his life.
Enthrall contained secrets within secrets.
Most of them I was in on.
Thanks to his wife Andrea, Richard’s framed photos on the right wall showing him doing risky shit hadn’t been updated. He’d pulled back on trying to kill himself.
Always a good thing.
Recently, I’d had a better insight into depression, my empathy so much more refined because of it. Though I doubtedthatkind of therapy would work on me.
I’d never been into self-harm, but I was damn good at self-punishment. I pushed that thought aside. No time for self-pity.
The framed photo of Richard swimming with sharks sent a shiver through me. I was up for adrenaline-pumping adventures as much as he was, but swimming with sharks was a hardnofor me.
Because I wasn’t a fucking idiot.
ButGodif Richard wasn’t one of the best men you’d ever know; which was why Cameron considered him his closest friend and ally. And why we were all as close as brothers.
I fucking loved everyone here. These were the kind of people you could rely on. There was no bullshit—just straight talk.
“Are you going to tell me now?” Richard took a sip of his coffee.
“Tell you what?”
“A few weeks ago, you asked me to get you into Pendulum.”
“All squared away.”
“Wanna tell me why you were there?”
