Page 3 of Room Eighteen: My Pain, Their Pleasure

“I’m not nervous,” the words are shaky.

“Something else then,” Brooks pushes, his hazel eyes turning predatory like he’s gotten the scent of blood and he’s going to run it to ground.

I still completely, my instincts screaming at me to run, even if it would be useless. I don’t want to get away anyway, which only makes me feel ashamed.

“Excited,” the word is damn close to a choked sob as Cameron picks up his rig.

“I can see that,” Aiden’s voice is neutral, but there’s a knowing in his eyes which makes me want to crawl into a hole.

“I’m always excited about adding to my art collection,” I try to lighten the mood, but my voice doesn’t quite hit the joking tone I was going for. Instead, I sound breathy and sultry.

As Cameron stares down at me, he starts and I whimper, but it’s not one of pain. The tension in the room ramps up considerably. Without looking at Brooks, Aiden or Cameron I know my secret is out of the bag.

Well, fuck me.

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