Page 55 of Enthrall Ecstasy
I turned to see Lotte standing there, our pretty Dominatrix wearing a warm smile, kindness emanating from her eyes.
She glanced through the window and then looked back at me, polite enough not to give me a look of pity, her big, vibrant eyes highlighted by her new pixie cut.
I wanted to tell her that the hairstyle suited her, only my throat constricted with emotion.
“I like you with a beard,” she said.
Rubbing my scruff self-consciously, I gave her a wry smile. She came closer and stood beside me, turning to peer through the glass.
Even dressed in high-heeled boots, Lotte wasn’t close to my height. But she was still a spitfire. Everyone knew to behave around her.
“I was never here,” I whispered.
“Of course.”
I stared at them. “They’re back together.”
“What gave you that impression?” She winked at me.
De Sade and Rylee were now fucking.
Making me wish I’d taken Richard’s advice not to come down here.
Jake was pounding his ex, and it was wild and dirty and raw. She looked like a porn star. My little dig at her made me feel better. Wouldn’t say it out loud, though.
I wasn’t usually a jealous man, but De Sade was one of the best-looking men I’d ever fucked or lived with.
Or fallen in love with.
I should have told him that.
Maybe it was a good thing Lotte was here. Richard had probably sent her to stop me from ruining everyone’s day.
I was breaking the rules.
I’d like to break this glass.
Lotte touched my arm. “Look at me.”
I turned away from the window and faced her. How many times had we seen each other through difficult times? I’d drawn on Lotte’s kindness over the years and her give-no-fucks wisdom.
“It’s going to be okay,” she said softly. “Remember what you once told me. You’ll look back at this moment with gratitude. Because the universe will give you something better. What happened was merely a preview of things to come.”
“And you believed me?”
She punched my arm. “Yes, and it was true. And it will be true for you, too.”
My focus settled on De Sade again, on the lovers still entwined.
Memories sprung up to remind me how much fun we’d had on those lazy Sundays, watching football together, him talking me through the plays. He would call the action because he’d once thrived as a quarterback in the NFL. A player for the ages.
Right up until he was injured and had to retire.
The late-night swims where we moved over to the Jacuzzi and talked until midnight. Days and nights and weekends flashed before me, mine to keep.
He never surfed, though—never wanted to learn. Another memory was piqued for some unfathomable reason—the image of Rue riding a wave.
I needed the surfing. That would clear my mind.
