Page 60 of Caught Up

Her fingers trailed lower, over my abdomen, and I hissed in a breath.

“Oh, god, I’m sorry,” she said, starting to lift off me. “I forgot about your wound.”

I yanked her back down. “I’m fine. Just watch that side.”

A pastel blur passed in front of the alcove and then backtracked. “Oh, hiii,” Taylor said, sticking her head in. “Sorry to interrupt the aftercare, but Sylvia wants to see us in fifteen.”

Lauren saluted her. “I’ll be there.”

Taylor returned the salute and spun on her heel, disappearing.

Aftercare? Was that what this was? I thought that was limited to BDSM relationships. This just felt like spending time together after getting each other off.

Lauren tucked her head into the crook of my neck, and I tightened my arm around her. “Who’s Sylvia?” I asked, curious.

“Velvet’s founder and primary stakeholder,” Lauren said. “Me, my roommates, and a few others have bought shares as well.”

“Do you meet every night you’re here?”

She shook her head, hair rubbing against the bottom of my chin. “No, Sylvia and her partner, Martin, handle all of theday-to-daybusiness. We’re mostly financial backers and are only called in when big decisions need to be made.”

“Is something like that happening now?” I asked.

She sighed. “Yes. The man who owns the building is raising our rent again, and we’re scrambling to come up with an alternative location. Ryan, Taylor, and I have spent all our free time looking at other buildings and putting out feelers to see if someone else would be willing to work with us.”

“Any luck?”

“Unfortunately, no. Everything is either too expensive, or people don’t want to take on the risk of having us as renters.”

“You’re not breaking any laws, are you?”

“We do absolutely everything by the books,” Lauren said, explaining the city’s zoning and vice laws to me. When she was finished, she added, “We’ve never even had to pay a fine—that’s how careful we are.”

Interesting. “Are you profitable?”

She blew out a breath. “We would be if our landlord wasn’t such a leech.”

“How much is he charging you?” I asked, taking a sip of coffee. Her answer almost made me do a spit take. “That’s bullshit.”

“I know,” she said. “But we might end up having to pay it.”

“Who’s your landlord?” Maybe I knew him and could pull some strings.

“A decrepit asshole named Patrick McKinney.” The name was unfamiliar. “I think he’s trying to force us out with the hikes.”

“Seems like it.” I couldn’t think of any other reason to drive someone’s rent so high. A profitable business was a profitable business, and if they were willing to pay what was already too much money, it didn’t make financial sense to risk losing them. Unless you were a fucking prude and wanted them out. Or you were forced to raise rent for some other reason . . .

The wheels started turning in my head. I’d look into it for her. It might be nothing, but I knew a lot about who owned this city and what made them tick. Something didn’t seem to add up here.

My phone rang in my pocket, and I jostled Lauren a little to get to it.

I nearly swore when I saw “Dad” on the caller ID.

“Yeah?” I asked, picking up.

“Now,” he said.

God-fucking-damnit. Couldn’t I get just a few hours to myself?

---