Page 139 of If Our Hearts Collide

I take a step. And I take one more.

As I approach the door, it is then that I notice a couple serving as what I assume are the host and hostess. The male is dressed all in black—from head to toe—while the female is in all white. In fact, now I’m starting to notice that all the guys entering are in black. Hmmm…

As I move closer, I see that the woman is wearing a diamond-encrusted white collar around her neck. I swallow hard as I follow the attached chain until I discover that the man is holding it in his left hand, the excess loosely wrapped around his fingers.

Holy fuck.

This is one of the most erotic things I’ve seen in person, and I worry that my staring is being seen as rude.

I can’t imagine the woman didn’t choose to have this detail added to her ensemble. Her gentle smile says she is having a good time. Oh, I bet she is. Just the way that man looks at her with adoration is enough for me to connect the dots that they are smitten with each other and into the kinky stuff.

“Come closer, little one,” he says, motioning me with his free hand. He has a gentle warmth about him, yet appears very confident. “You’ll be safer inside than out here.”

I glance down at my feet and realize that they aren’t moving. How long have I been immobile and just staring? I look behind me and see that the parking lot is full of vehicles, but I’m the only one out here. Surely I’m not the last one to arrive.

I’ve been out of the social loop for a while now, but nothing about tonight feels like I’ll be entering into a normal gathering. Something feels different. Like the air is laced with electricity, charging everyone into an edgy state of being.

“Come, little dove,” the man encourages. “You obviously are new. Who is accompanying you tonight, and is your paperwork complete?”

With uncertainty, I force myself forward. If I don’t make a move, I’ll just spend the rest of the night regretting it.

“I’m here by myself, and I don’t have any papers.”

Glancing down at my outfit, I look conservative compared to the woman in the collar. Granted, I plan on taking off my wrap dress at some point and shoving it into the recesses of my handbag—if it will fit. I only wore it to get out of the building without looking like a hooker. I didn’t need to send off warning bells to a crew of watchdogs. I’m sure my brothers have the lobby attendants watching my every move as well as Collins—in addition to whoever else he hired while he was away from the job.

I know for a fact they don’t trust me.

But I also don’t trust myself.

What happens if I have another episode where someone touches me, and I freak? The whole point of coming tonight is to step outside my comfort zone. But what if I’m just pushing myself too hard or too fast?

“Don’t be frightened. Come,” the host coaxes, his kind eyes luring me.

With feet that feel like they’re walking through drying cement, I take a few steps forward, toward the couple. I watchin awe as the man whispers something to his woman, and she immediately kneels down at his feet.

Holy shit.

I’ve only read about these types of power dynamic relationships in a few books that Angie left at the house when she visited for holidays.

I’m not a big reader like she is, but I couldn’t help myself with my curiosity.

It’s vastly different witnessing this in person.

Nothing about these two looks fictional.

The host reaches out an arm to welcome me and I walk forward, allowing him to embrace me in a one-armed hug. His cologne smells so good, making me want to cuddle closer, but I resist. The last thing I need is to make the woman mad at me before I even enter the dance party. Stepping back, I take stock of the expensive five-piece suit that he is wearing. He looks regal, and by the feel of the fabric, I imagine it cost a small fortune.

“What’s your name, little one?”

“Penny Hoffman.” My words come out choked. Maybe I shouldn’t have said my last name. I’m the worst over-sharer at the most awkward times.

“Welcome. My name is Michael, and this”—he looks down and pets the head of the woman who is kneeling so patiently at his feet—“is Daphne.”

I give them each a smile, not knowing where to rest my eyes.

Michael looks around me into the dark parking lot. “Who brought you?”

“I was dropped off.” I clear my throat. “Well, basically.”

---