“Wow.”

“So, no, I’m not a madam. But I am a business woman. I take money from billionaires who wish to be paired up with submissive women for a variety of relationships, both monogamous and polyamorous. Both benefit.”

“I’m not sure about all this. How does somebody get strong by being treated like an . . . attendant? I mean, I’m not naïve. I’ve read that in a million places and stuff, but how does it work?”

“Dear, I could go on for days explaining the psychological influences of being human, but that would be boring. Better for you to experience it and see for yourself. All I’m offering you is a path. It may not be the path for you. Many people are repulsed by it, and that’s perfectly fine for them. But others are drawn to it like a gravitational field.”

Lorena takes a fake puff from her cigarette and glances out over the bay. I follow her gaze out to the many boats on the water, serene in the reflected light from the setting sun. I take another sip of my drink.

Holy shit, I think I’m feeling it already. I don’t even taste any alcohol.

“So,” I say, suddenly emboldened, “you want me to work for someone as a submissive.”

She turns back to face me again. “That’s the job, dear. It’s not prostitution. I wouldn’t call it work, either. It’s more a loving relationship. It could be part-time, or full-time. You may find a lifestyle that gives you a lifetime of pleasure.”

“Why me?”

“Because, like I said, I know you, Jayd. I see much of myself in you.” Her gaze drifts to a spot behind me. “Oh, here’s the Director of my submission academy now.”

A shadow blocks some of the light behind me. I turn.

I’m glad I had some of that drink, because I nearly have a heart attack at the sight of Lukas Thorn.

Everything disappears. The sunset, the cavernous apartment, the low hum of the conversations, the music. My entire world centers on the man I’ve been trying to find for two weeks.

Right here.

And not just here, but standing directly in front of me again.

I try not to squeal in delight.

If I thought he was a god among men before, I’m only more convinced now.

He’s in a black flowing shirt, one of many flowing shirts in his collection apparently. Taut thick chest muscles press it outward anyway, sinewy neck muscles leading to broad shoulders. Broader than before. Like he had some added on since the last time I saw him.

But no, that’s ridiculous. I’m just seeing them from a new angle. So close. So close I could almost stick my tongue out and . . .

“Jayden Raye, Jayd for short,” says Lorena, “I’d like you to meet Director Lukas Thorn. Oh, but that’s right. I forgot. You two have already met. I believe Lukas saved your life at Bogart that night a couple of weeks ago.”

I’m not sure if it’s just me or if it’s both Lukas and me, but we just stare at each other. He wears a half-smile, the perfect stubble still in place over the tanned skin and flawless square chin that burned itself into my memory on the plane here.

His hair is especially “just-fucked” tonight, waves of brownish-black darkness with those delightful wispy ends that I just want to bite.

His expression is relaxed but incredulous as he stares into me, his sapphire eyes searing a sensuous pathway into my soul. He looks at me like he knows me, like he’s known me for a thousand years.

Yeah, glad I waited. Fuck Karissa and Jaxon. Fuck Javier. Fuck those shitheads who hit on me. This is what I want! This man right here! Wherever he is, I’m home.

“What the fuck, Lorena?” says Lukas Thorn, not breaking his stare into my eyes.

His words knock me out of my spell. I turn to look at Lorena’s shocked expression.

“Excuse me?” she says.

“This is a joke, Lorena. What are you up to?”

She folds her arms and throws him an evil questioning stare. “I don’t like your tone, Lukas.” Her voice has gone three octaves lower than usual.

He chuckles, then returns his gaze to me. He looks me up and down like he’s buying a horse.

“No thanks, Lorena,” he says as he turns to walk away. “I’m not going to fall for it again.”

At that, he turns and drifts across the room. Everyone notices him, like he’s the center of all magnetism in the universe.

I’m frozen in place, unable to move. I’m not sure what I’m feeling.

Did he just reject me like I think he just did? Like a piece of meat?

“Don’t let him get to you,” Lorena says. “It’s just his nature. He likes you.”

I take another sip of my drink, watching his broad shoulders under that muscular neck as he joins a group of well-dressed women at a tall round table on the other end of the balcony. He motions a naked attendant over. His is flawlessly blonde.

Bitch.

“He likes me?” I say. “That’s not how someone reacts when they like you. Wait, oh wait. Is it him? Is he the one you want to ‘sell’ me to?”

“No, of course not, dear. And there’s no selling. That’s an awful term. He’s just the director of my academy. It is very strange that he reacted that way. Wait, you don’t know him, do you? Did you meet him before the restaurant?”

My head spins. I don’t know how to answer. I don’t want to tell her about the plane. Apparently, she doesn’t know about it. The less people who know, the better.

Suddenly, my inner diva fires up inside. I never know when she’s going to show up. Yeah baby, hello! I down the rest of my drink . . . hoo-hah! . . . and place it on a nearby table.

“If you would excuse me for a moment, Lorena,” I say.

“Of course,” she says.

I march across the room toward that flowing untucked shirt and glistening hair. I plant myself behind him and to the left, making eye contact with the three bitches who are laughing at whatever he’s saying. My heart beats out of my chest as I wait.

He notices and turns around. He rolls his eyes and chuckles. Fucking prick.

“May I see you, please, for a moment?” I say.

He laughs, shakes his head, and turns back to the three girls. “This will just take a second.”

Oh, will it, asshole?

I turn and walk to a quiet nearby spot in front of a low dark couch.

He follows slowly, a drink in his hand. His sapphire eyes pick up the dim light of the room and reflect it back to me in strands of iridescent energy.

“Can I help you?” he says.

His voice is a dark gravelly sheen of resonance, with that edge of evil I remember from high above the clouds. It was only two weeks ago, but it feels like forever since I’ve been pining and searching for this man.

Now that I’ve got him here to this private spot, I realize I have no clue what to say.

He cocks his head, amber drink in his hand, as if to say go on.

“Hi,” I say with a little cough, then clear my throat. “Um, excuse me . . . I mean, hi.”

“Hi,” he says. “There’s a saying, you know. Once is coincidence. Twice is happenstance. Three times is enemy action.”

“Oh,” I say. “Really? I never heard that.” God, that was stupid, Abigail! My inner courageous girl has suddenly vanished into nothingness. “Ha ha.”

Ha ha? I don’t even know what he’s talking about.

Okay, sweating now. Need another drink.

He smiles. It’s one of those smiles that bypasses the eyes and goes straight to the pussy. My pulsating, vibrating, liquifying pussy.

I try to say something but all I can seem to get out is some sort of squeaking sound.

Brilliant, Abigail! Brilliant. Oh, bravo. Why don’t you just say “hee-haw” like a donkey?

“Look, I don’t know what Lorena put you up to. But you can forget it, okay? It’s not going to work.”

“Um,” I say, trying to process that. “She didn’t put me up to anything.”

He takes a step closer to me. He squares his face and reaches deep into my inner being with those damned hypnotic irises. The party, the building, Biscayne Bay, even the black boy with the big floppy dong . . . they all disappear again. We’re on our own separate planet. No, more like our own ethereal world . . . above space and time in a bubble of sexual vibes that swirl around us in an array of charged vibrations.