Page 20 of Indiscreet

Her eyes darted away from me. “Yeah, that’s what we were doing…role-playing. Sorry to confuse you.”

“You didn’t need to explain. I was just curious,” I replied slowly. “Anyway, I did meet someone else, a man named Elliott—”

“Elliott Carmichael?” she said with a twist to her mouth.

“I don’t know his last name,” I replied. I did remember the lustful way he’d stared at me from the floor when he stroked me to climax. I lowered my head as heat returned to my face.

“I can see from your expression, he’s one and the same,” she said in a clipped tone. “Trust me, he’s bad news. Stay away from him.”

My stomach knotted. Too late. “What do you mean? He seemed nice…” Well, he had been when he touched me.

She grimaced. “He’s not.”

“What do you know about him?” I pressed.

She rubbed her neck. “He leaves a string of women wanting in his wake. He’s not serious about anyone. He’s just after sex.”

“What’s wrong with that?” I said, laughing a little, but Liz didn’t join in. “I thought sex was what you were encouraging me to do just a few days ago when you mentioned The Agency.”

“I was…I am, but not with guys like Elliott who are only after sex,” she said. “You’re only just divorced. You wouldn’t want to get mixed up in anything too risky,” she added.

“Like the green mixer?” I whispered.

Her eyes widened and shifted around. “I’m surprised you were allowed in one of them.” Her expression changed to concern. “Or did something happen to you?”

“No…I sort of stumbled upon it,” I responded.

Her face pinched. “You didn’t participate?” she asked cautiously.

I licked my lips. “No.”

It wasn’t a complete lie, I told myself. Shit, it is. Now I sound like Patrick. Even so, my brief time at the orgy wasn’t something I’d share with anyone anyway.

“Good.” Her shoulders dropped. “If I’d know there would be one at your mixer, I’d never have sent you there. Did someone pressure you to go in? Did Dane—”

“He didn’t,” I said, but now I was curious. “Why do you ask? Do you know something about Dane hurting someone?”

“No,” she answered. “I just don’t think going to those types of parties is a good idea. I don’t want you pressured into doing anything you don’t want to do.”

“Okay,” I said. “But I was assured by Dane that everyone…in the room was there by their own choice. I don’t know…it wasn’t for me, but it didn’t seem bad.”

She lowered her eyelids. “Probably from the outside, it wouldn’t look too bad. I’m not against experimenting, and at first, the multiple partners feel good, but then afterward, if you can’t handle it, it leaves you feeling empty. Expectations change…but once you open those doors with a partner, you can’t close them.” She ran her hand over her arm in a way that had me thinking she had more knowledge of the subject than she was willing to tell me then and there.

“Is that what happened to you?” I asked.

“No. It’s hard to explain,” she replied cryptically then went quiet as I waited for her to elaborate. She moved the sleeve of her jacket, and I saw a black leather ribbon at her wrist that had a small lock on it.

“What’s that?” I reached out to examine it closer, but she quickly pulled her sleeve back down. “It’s nothing.”

My lips pursed. “But you’re covering it,” I pointed out, my voice lowering. “Did he hurt you?”

“No,” she said firmly. “It’s just a little tight,” she said, waving her hand dismissively when I tried to touch it.

My brows puckered at the way it dug into her skin. Surely she could get rid of it. “Take it off—or did you lose the key? You can get a locksmith or a jeweler to take it off. There’s one not far from here.

“No.” She pulled her arm away and fixed her jacket down over the wristband. “It’s…not bothering me.”

“You’re lying—you look uncomfortable,” I protested.

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