Read an Excerpt
Copyright © P. Stormcrow 2020. All Rights Reserved, Totally Entwined Group Limited, T/A Totally Bound Publishing.
What the hell am I doing here?
Luna Weir stared at the mirror above the sink, tapping the porcelain rim as she bit her lower lip, studying herself. The woman in the mirror looked almost sickly, her features lost in the pale complexion framed by almost-silver hair. The only spots of color were the startling blue of her eyes and the red lips that were bruised from being chewed raw. Nervousness was making her twitch this way and that.
She was in no shape to meet new people.
Outside the public washroom she was in was a group of pure strangers sitting down to have a nice Sunday brunch together. If it were any other networking event, Luna would stride out there with all the confidence of an ambitious newbie in the industry.
But this was not a professional meetup—and the topic at hand wasn’t what she would call work-safe.
Eating with strangers… Talking about kinks and fetishes…
Why am I doing this again? Right… She’d said she would give this one last shot.
‘We’re done, Luna. I get you want my opinion, but stop making me make all the decisions. It’s exhausting. You’re just too intense. Look… I wish you luck, but I’m not the guy for you.’
She winced at the memory. He’d also expressed other choice words, like what he thought about her lack of enthusiasm in bed. It was true. She had a low libido. And yet, she couldn’t reconcile the earlier memories of how turned on she’d been by even the faintest idea of something kinky. That’s why I’m here, right?
Luna startled as the toilet flushed behind her. A woman emerged from the stall, a bounce of impossible red curls matched with impossible stilettos. She was stunning, with brilliant hazel eyes lighting up at the sight of…something.
Wait… She can’t be looking at me, can she?
“Hello, sweetie. Luna, right?”
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.
Luna mustered a smile, watching as the woman walked up to the sink next to her with a sway of hips and washed her hands. A pang of envy stabbed through her. The woman oozed confidence and swagger in a way she only wished she could emulate.
“I’m Lani, the hostess for the munch this month.” She smiled, glowing with warmth, and Luna could not help but relax just a smidgen.
“Yeah, I’m Luna. Nice to meet you.” Always be nice to the hostess.
“Let me guess… You’ve come up with a case of nerves and that’s why you’re hiding in here?” Lani leaned forward, but before Luna could protest, she added with a lowered whisper, “It’s okay. My first time, I hid in here most of the munch and kept peeking out until the last person had left.” She winked and tilted her head toward Luna, as if sharing a conspiracy.
She couldn’t imagine the self-assured woman in front of her afraid of anything, but somehow, it made her feel better.
“Now, if you’re feeling lost, why don’t you come sit with me? I can point out who’s who.”
Luna stared at the offered arm, beginning to wonder why she had been so scared before. They were just people—people like her. Okay, she was nothing like Lani, the indomitable force, but Luna found her easy manner hard to resist. She looped her arm around the other woman’s and nodded. “All right, I can do this. Lead the way!”
Lani tossed her head back and laughed. “That’s the spirit!”
The waiter was just arriving to take people’s orders just as they made their way to the long table in an alcove at the back of the restaurant. As Luna sat, the waiter came around with a friendly smile.
“And what can I get for you today?”
It was an easy decision for a sugar fiend like her. “French toast, please, with the whipped cream and strawberries.”
“Sure.”
Surprise made her turn with as much discretion as possible to study Lani as she ordered the same. The woman flashed her a quick grin and nodded toward the rest of the table, an invitation to look.
Luna ventured to observe the people around the group. Seven, including herself, rounded the table—three on each side with Lani at the head. She was seated to Lani’s left, while to her own right was a lanky man with a mop of light brown hair and rimmed glasses. Across from her was another woman about her age, a slim Asian who was built like a ballerina. A couple sat farther down the table across from her, but she could only catch an occasional glimpse of the last person on her side. From what Luna could tell, the three at the other end of the table were deep in discussion about the best flogging techniques. She bit her lower lip, memories surfacing before she clamped down hard on them. A distant echo of a sensation—the pain—and the sheer lack of pleasure.
