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I fumed all the way home. The knowledge Georgia had spoken to my brother behind my back sitting like a lead weight in my gut. She was meant to be my friend. The one person I could always rely on to be on my side. I didn’t need anyone else telling me the Tuesday night situation wasn’t healthy. I knew it wasn’t. But it felt good. They weren’t the ones whose bodies were worshipped before being led to an earth-shattering orgasm. Add the amount of money I earned on top of that, and quitting wasn’t an easy decision. Then, there was the fact that if I stopped going, the man’s identity would remain a secret forever. I’d probably spend the rest of my life wondering who the man with the magic touch had been.

It probably would have been better if Georgia hadn’t been at home. I would have had more of an opportunity to calm down, but there she was, reading some sort of trashy gossip magazine at the kitchen table. She lifted her head and offered a smile as I walked in. “Hi, babe.”

I gave her the most venomous glare I could muster. “I’m not talking to you!” Stomping over to the counter, I proceeded to ignore her while I made myself a coffee as loudly as possible, ensuring that anything that was possible to slam down on the counter, was. When she didn’t question my mood, or make a single comment, I glanced over to find her still reading her magazine, seemingly oblivious. “Did you hear me? I said I’m not talking to you.”

She lifted her head, one eyebrow quirked. “I heard. That’s why I didn’t bother responding. If you’re not talking to me, it would be a waste of time.”

I threw the teaspoon into the sink from the other side of the kitchen. It hit a mug, making a satisfying clash, and bounced off. “Aren’t you going to ask why?”

She sighed. “You’ve just met up with your brother. I had a long conversation with him the other day. When we naturally got on to the subject of how you are, given that is the only thing we have in common, I told him I was worried, and then I told him why I was worried. Therefore, he’s just asked you about what I said. So, you’re pissed at me for telling him stuff about you. In particular, you’re pissed that I mentioned Tuesday nights to him.”

“Spot on.” I watched in amazement when she went straight back to reading her magazine. “You’re not even going to apologize, claim it just slipped out, or that you didn’t mean to tell him?”

She raised her eyes for a few seconds. “Nope. It would be a lie. I figured I was in desperate need of some backup. You’re not listening to me. So, I hoped you might listen to your brother.”

I shrugged, but she’d already gone back to reading an article about some Z-list celebrity. Picking up my coffee, I made to leave the kitchen.

“Dean.”

I stopped and turned back, unprepared for the plaintive expression on her face.

“It’s Tuesday today. Please tell me you’ve told Tom that you’ve quit.”

“I haven’t told Tom…yet. But…I’m not going to go. Does that make you happy?”

She beamed at me. “Yes, that makes me incredibly happy. I’m only trying to look out for you. You know that, right? There’s a really hot guy on Grindr who messaged you last night. He’s really sporty, and he likes—”

Shaking my head, I walked away.

Chapter Seven

“You’re late.”

I tried to read the intonation behind the words and work out whether it had been said in an accusatory way. But the problem with whispers was, it was almost impossible to tell. I couldn’t read any emotion whatsoever. Maybe there wasn’t any. Maybe it was just a simple statement of fact and I was overthinking it.

I hadn’t set out to deliberately deceive Georgia. When I’d told her, I wasn’t going to go there, I’d had every intention of sticking to it. Tom would be annoyed at the loss of money, but I knew he’d get over it, in time. More importantly, it would get Georgia, and now my brother, off my back, and I’d…well, that was the problem, I wasn’t convinced it would stop me thinking about the man behind the mysterious voice. I had a suspicion it might make me think about him even more. That it would end up being a major regret. So, I’d changed my mind. Just not soon enough to be able to get there on time.

I’d already been over ten minutes late by the time I’d reached the gate. Add on the time it took me to collect the money and get myself upstairs and we were probably talking closer to fifteen. Unsure of the reception I was likely to receive, I’d opened the door cautiously. Now there I was, staring into the familiar blackness and trying desperately to detect meaning from two huskily whispered words. “I know, I’m sorry. I can leave if you want me to.”

I held my breath while I waited for the response, knowing I’d feel crushed, if all my earlier agonizing and indecision had served only to result in a quick dismissal.

“No. Stay.”

“Okay. I’ll…get undressed then.” I was out of my clothes and taking up my usual position on the bed in record time. It wasn’t long before I could sense his presence next to me. It was like we were both trying to make up for lost time. Expecting to feel his hands on me, I was surprised when he spoke. “If our arrangement’s going to continue, there’s a new rule.”

“Sure. Anything.” I cringed. What the hell was I saying? “Well, not anything, obviously. Anything within reason.”

“I need you to wear these.”

Something cold landed on my bare chest, producing an involuntary shiver. I brought my hands up, trying to make sense of what it could be. My fingers encircled something smooth and metallic. They continued their exploration until I worked it out, the feel of the chain between the two circles, giving it away. “Handcuffs? I don’t know…I…” I stopped to think. Surely, only a complete idiot would consent to not only being in the dark with a stranger, but also being restrained. Silence stretched between us while I struggled with the decision.

He spoke first. “If you can’t. Then that’s fine. You can take last week’s money that you left behind, and you can take today’s. But then we’re done.”

The word “done,” reverberated around my head, momentarily overtaking the panic at the thought of being completely vulnerable and unable to escape in the pitch-black room. “I don’t understand why the touching is such a big deal. Maybe, if I understood, then—”

“You don’t need to understand. That was the deal. It’s always been the deal. If you don’t like it, then…the deal ends. They’re just handcuffs. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Was I imagining the note of pleading underlying the barely audible whisper? One thing was for sure, that was by far the most the man had ever said since I’d been going there. Maybe we were getting somewhere. Maybe I could still manage to earn his trust and unlock the mystery. Was I really going to throw all that away over one pair of handcuffs? “Where’s the key?” I could hear the tremor in my own voice.