Total pages in book: 767
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
“Tell me what things you have explored.”
“I’ve told you everything I’m going to.” She brought her chin up. If she didn’t shut up this moment, she might confess she was fantasizing about him rubbing a piece of ice over her clit. “Why are you here?”
“I have a couple of clubs that I enjoy. The Retreat in Houston. Another in Boston, but this is my favorite. I had a meeting…nearby.”
Breath rushed from her lungs. His slight hesitation omitted a ton of information, specifics that her mind filled in. She glanced at his right hand. As she expected he wore a gold ring. Though he wasn’t close enough to make out all the details, emeralds winked in the overhead light, and she knew those were meant to be the eyes of an owl. Her heart plummeted.
Like her father, Jax was a member of the Titans, one of the oldest secret societies in the United States. The organization had thousands of members, a who’s-who list of people from all over the world. The annual dues were astronomical, and the wait list to join was years long. The Titans, officially known as the Zeta Society, owned an estate on the banks of the Mississippi River. As a child, she’d visited a couple of times with her mom and dad, but never during the yearly meeting as nonmembers were banned from attending.
The Zetas did a fair amount of charity work, and they’d saved a magnificent historical home from demolition. Still, she chafed at the extreme waste of money that could be funneled into better purposes.
“So, you know.” It wasn’t a guess. It was a statement.
“Yes.”
“You sound disapproving.”
His membership explained a lot. How he’d gotten some big-name clients and achieved superstar success at such an early age. Titans helped other Titans.
Then she took a drink to escape the obvious. He would never have been admitted to the society without merit. Only descendants of founding members received a legacy admission. He’d earned a seat at the table. “I’m studying for my master’s in social work, Jax.” She chose her words with care, as he did, avoiding the mention of the Zetas. “I’d like to see people allot their resources differently.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “There’s only one way to do good in the world? Your way?”
She brought her chin up. “I don’t berate people.”
“Is that how you see it? You don’t think some people need a metaphoric kick in the pants?”
Willow gave him a great big, fake smile. “Present company included?”
He lifted his glass in a toast to her.
“And no. I think if people have a compelling reason, passion, they will move forward of their own volition.”
“Is that true?” His words held more interest than challenge, making her consider what she’d said. “Or are individuals different?” he persisted. “Do we each respond to different stimuli?”
Her breath caught as he looked at her barely covered body.
“Pain. Sensation. Pleasure. All of them tied together in an inextricable knot so that you don’t know where one ends and the other begins?”
They were no longer talking about social consciousness.
“Is it possible that you’re right, but that my way works also?”
To his credit, he didn’t flaunt the fact that people thought he held the holy grail to success. Because she cared about helping people through their struggles, she answered him thoughtfully. “I’m concerned with life balance more than you seem to be. You’re constantly talking about pushing, focusing on work to the exclusion of everything else. People need time to pause, to reflect. Think about positive things. Spend time with family and friends. Socialize. Connect. Laugh. Maybe ride a bike, but indulge in some fun. That’s what makes life worth living.”
“Maybe you should watch more and judge less.”
She blinked. She looked for the best in people and encouraged them to explore it. “That’s unkind.”
“Perhaps it’s true.”
Beneath his penetrating glare, she fidgeted.
“I presented a commencement address for a high school in a disadvantaged area last year. Look it up.”
She studied him through narrowed eyes, unwilling to acknowledge that maybe she didn’t know everything about him. On the other hand, the fact that he was still here rather than leaving her the hell alone to get her needs met was proof enough of his cocksure attitude.
“Do you play in the dungeon? Or do you prefer Rue Sensuelle?”
He’d switched subjects so fast that it took her a minute to catch up. “I’m sorry?”
“When you scene, where do you like to play?”
The Quarter had two floors, and the first was set up in an interesting horseshoe shape. The dungeon area was a square, and beyond that was another play area for people who preferred a little more solitude. On the far side lay Rue Sensuelle—or Kinky Avenue as most members called it. There were a number of different settings, separated by partitions. Each was furnished to appeal to a particular fetish. From what she’d heard, there was a schoolroom, a pair of stocks, and a Victorian chamber, complete with a brass bed. There was even supposed to be an examination table. The idea of being strapped to that terrified her.