Page 48 of Pandora's Pleasure
I headed over to the liquor cabinet and uncorked the Cognac, pouring some of the dark amber liquid into a tumbler. I took a sip, waiting for Pandora to fly by the door leading to the kitchen and out the exit. It made me chuckle…the thought of scandalizing my pretty debutante.
This was a decent brandy—sweeter than a whisky, tasting of fruit and citrus. The bottle’s contents had been aged in an oak barrel that had been switched out each year to ensure its quality. Not bad for a four-year-old liquor. I swirled my nightcap around in the glass to let the liquid breathe, savoring the scent.
Hmmm. She isn’t coming out.
My move.
I headed out into the hallway to find her.
Wait.
You need answers before you dive in and potentially fuck up your life…or hers.
Doing a one-eighty, I went back into the kitchen and grabbed my phone off the central marble island. If my suspicion was right, calling this number would confirm the clues I’d deciphered. There were a handful of intimate friends who knew about Vanguard—most of them men. And only one woman.
Madeline answered her phone on the third ring. “What a lovely surprise.”
I listened for any hint of where she might be at this late hour. “Thought I’d say hi.”
“I’m flattered,” she said. “I know how busy you are.”
“How’s teaching?”
“Fulfilling. You?”
“Honestly, I’m exhausted.”
“You need to take some time for you, Damien. A day off once in a while.”
“I wish.”
“I’ve been following the polls. It’s looking good for the Senator. How does it feel?
Your dad’s going to be President! Oh, my God, you have to invite me over to the White House.”
She made me smile. “Consider yourself invited. But let’s not pick out new curtains yet.”
“Are you freaking out?”
“No.”
“How are you this calm?”
“It is what it is.” I paused. “It’s good to hear your voice.”
“The feeling is mutual. To what do I owe the honor?”
“You’re a great distraction from the work I have waiting on my laptop.”
“I’m so glad,” she purred.
Her husky voice always did things to me—it was like melting butter. My balls
remembered the feel of her mouth…the way she’d suckle my sac like that was all she cared about. Like it was her goddamn job.
I adjusted my pants to accommodate my reaction, cursing the day ten years ago that Madeline had told me she wanted to top. I’d been twenty-two and balls deep into the lifestyle. Balls deep in her, too.
Weeks later, she’d officially become a dominatrix, a waste of a good submissive.
