The quiet of the early morning was a familiar companion, broken only by the soft creak of the floorboards beneath my feet as I stirred from sleep. The bed beside me was empty—no surprise there. James was always up before dawn, as if 24 hours simply weren’t enough for his relentless energy. Somehow, he managed on barely four hours of sleep, a mystery I’d never solve. His routine was relentless: gym, shower, then off to wherever his business demands took him that day. He often returned by five, just as I wrapped up at the bookstore.
I stretched out on my mattress, luxuriating in the warmth and softness, ready to drift back into the comfort of sleep. But before I could surrender to the pull of dreams, a sharp voice sliced through the quiet. “SARAH, YOUR BOSS IS HERE!”
Startled, I scrambled upright, fingers fumbling to gather my hair into a ponytail. I hunted for something—anything—to throw on, but my options were limited. Eventually, I settled on the first shirt I could grab and paired it with pajama shorts, barely giving myself time to care about how mismatched I looked. With a rush of adrenaline, I darted down the stairs.
In the kitchen, Justin and James sat side by side at the island, voices low in conversation. Justin’s presence was commanding even in casual morning light—his tailored suit replaced by a crisp shirt, yet his intensity undiminished. As I passed, I nodded with a sleepy smile. “Good morning, Ms. Stewart.”
“Morning, Mr. Wright,” I replied, feeling his eyes roam over me with a hunger that set my skin prickling.
“James, is there coffee?” Justin asked.
James nodded, sliding a steaming mug toward me. “You want some, Mr. Wright?”
“No, thank you.” His tone was polite but firm. Then, eyes locking on mine, he added, “How about breakfast? Just the two of us.”
His boldness caught me off guard, making my heart stutter. “Yeah, sure—that sounds great!” I bit the inside of my cheek, chastising myself for the eagerness that betrayed me.
James raised an eyebrow, his tone teasing, “Weren’t you supposed to help me with the checklist today?”
“Right—shit, James, sorry. Justin, I think I’ll have to take a rain check.”
Justin’s breath hitched, his gaze cutting a chill straight through me as he shot James a glare sharp enough to freeze time. “I’ll help. What’s on the checklist?”
James shifted, amusement flashing in his eyes despite the tension. “We visit each of my businesses, check in on the staff, quality control kind of thing.”
Justin nodded slowly, then turned his gaze back to me, scanning like he was searching for any sign of hesitation. “I’d love to help.” His lips curved into a secretive smile that sent a shiver down my spine.
Without another word, I excused myself and fled upstairs, feeling the awkwardness magnify with every step.
Alone now, Justin’s eyes darkened. “You don’t seem to have limits.”
James smirked. “When are you going to tell her?”
His voice was low, edged with irritation. “Soon, asshole.”
Beneath the surface of their banter lay deeper currents. The tangled past of family secrets, shared assets, and fractured loyalties hovered in the room. Justin owned bookstores, retail shops, land, and even a security system business. James managed several fast-food chains. But more than business, there was the complicated history with Sarah—his brother’s ex and now close friend with delicate moments that blurred boundaries.
Justin thrived on control—it was the one thing he could claim after years of feeling powerless. The idea of Sarah slipping into a submissive role intrigued him, though from James’s perspective, she might be more suited to harsh dominance. Justin, more the master or daddy dom, wanted to guide her gently, awaken sensations she hadn’t yet discovered.
Suddenly, Sarah’s soft voice interrupted his thoughts. “Hey, what are you two talking about?”
She descended the stairs wearing short jean shorts and a black tank top—comfortably casual, but those shorts were a bit too daring for Justin’s taste. “You,” he answered simply, causing her to shift under his gaze.
“Sarah.” His voice softened as her luminous sea-blue eyes met his. She smiled, lips parting slightly, and he felt himself stiffen, his desire tightening in his chest.
“I want to talk to you alone.” Her words were quiet but determined. Taking his hand, she led him up to her bedroom.
The room was a striking contrast to the composed woman she presented at work. Posters of various bands and actors plastered the walls, video game consoles and controllers scattered around, a mini-fridge humming in the corner. The space was youthful, comfortable, real—still very much her own.
A towering bookshelf dominated one wall, crammed with novels across genres, a sanctuary of stories that mirrored her curiosity and depth.
Justin settled onto the bed, motioning for her to sit beside him. “You said you wanted to talk?”
She nodded, voice small but steady. “Do you know much about BDSM?”
“I’ve read Fifty Shades of Grey.” She smiled sheepishly, but it was clear she knew that book was hardly the gospel.
I chuckled softly. “It’s not exactly like that. BDSM is complex—full of rules and trust, boundaries and exploration.” I ran a hand through my hair, trying to calm the sudden surge of nerves.
“Have you ever thought about trying it?” I asked cautiously. “Maybe with someone experienced, so you’re safe—someone who cares.”
She hesitated. “I’ve never done anything like that. I’d need time to think.”
Her honesty was a relief; it told me she wasn’t rushing in blindly. “Of course. I know this is sudden. We’ve barely scratched the surface of whatever this is between us. But you intrigue me, Sarah. I want you to have time to really consider it.”
The light in her eyes was innocent yet probing, stirring something protective and dominant deep inside me. “I’ll think about it,” she murmured, avoiding my gaze. “I just need a night.”
I smiled, brushing a soft kiss against her cheek. “That’s all I ask.”
As I rose and left her room, the quiet closed in again, thick with possibilities and uncertainty. The day awaited, but in this small apartment above a bookstore, something new had begun to take shape—fragile, charged, and utterly compelling.