Page 42 of The Assignment: Room 3

“Goodnight, Flex.” I turn and twist the door handle, my heart hammering in my chest.

“I don’t know why you think this changes anything. I’m still taking you home. You’ll ride the subway alone at this time over my dead body.”

“You’ve been drinking.”

“And that makes a difference to my driver, why? Go and get your purse. Be sure to address Viv properly in her room. I’ll be waiting out front.” He can’t be serious.

“You’re not my Dom. You don’t get to boss me around. I’ve survived this long without your input on my mode of transportation.”

“I oversee all security at Venom. That means you too. I’m not taking no for an answer, Celest. If I have to throw you over my shoulder, I fucking will.”

“I don’t have time to argue with you.”

“Good, then it’s decided. I’ll meet you outside.” He grabs his keys and wallet off the chest of drawers before holding the door open for me. “After you. Ladies first.”

It’s been a long time since anyone has called me a lady. In fact, it’s a first. Gracie’s father never gave me such a compliment, even in the early days of our relationship. My eyes well with tears, but I don’t let them fall.

I slip out the door and walk to Genevieve’s private room. Rapping my knuckles on the hardwood, I wait with trepidation. I don’t want to interrupt her while she’s playing, but I also can’t leave without my belongings.

When the door opens, I’m met by the Mistress in nothing more than a lace thong. “I hope you have a good reason for coming to my private room, Ms. Monroe.”

“I… I need my purse. I’m sorry to bother you, Mistress Genevieve.”

She stands aside, ushering me in while her submissive is shackled to the St. Andrew’s cross on the far wall of her playroom, laid bare, with a massive erection.

“Fine.” I quickly pick up my purse, but I can’t help looking at him as he awaits his Mistress’s ministrations. “Did Master Navarro give you adequate aftercare?”

“I fell asleep.”

“So, the answer is no. I will be having words with him later.”

“Please don’t. It was my fault. He’s not my Dom.”

“That’s not what it looked like while he was worshiping your pussy tonight.” My cheeks flush at her words. They shouldn’t. I get naked and pleasure myself in front of lots of people on a regular basis, and yet the fresh memory of Flex on his knees makes me shy all of a sudden.

“I have to go, Mistress. I’m sorry for intruding.”

“Celest…” She pins me with her confident stare. “Let me know you get home safe.” Her voice softens—my friend rather than a Mistress.

“Flex insists on having a driver take me.”

“Good. I’ll see you next Saturday?”

“Yes.”

She turns her attention back to the smoking-hot guy at her mercy, and I take it as my cue to leave. As I scurry down the hallwayand into the elevator, I can’t fathom why everyone seems so invested in how I get home tonight. My last Dom didn’t ask questions. We fucked. He punished me. I left. Simple and easy—just the wayheliked it.

When I step out into the crisp night air, Flex is leaning against a black Escalade, looking mouthwateringly handsome.

“Your chariot awaits.” He opens the door and waits for me to get in. I turn to thank him, but before I know it, he slips in beside me.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking you home. What’s the address?”

“No. I agreed to the driver. Do you live in the Bronx?”

“Doesn’t matter. The address, pet.”

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