Page 61 of Sugar
I stormed through the bar toward him as he was about to disappear down the hall toward the specialty rooms. “A word.”
He just grinned as he punched a code into a door and opened it for me to enter. We followed the narrow hall shortcut until it opened up near his office.
Once we were inside, he flopped into his desk chair and gave it a spin. “What’s up?”
I tossed the sheet I’d stashed in my back pocket onto his desk. “How the fuck did you let this happen?”
He didn’t glance at it. “I thought the printer did a helluva job. The font choice was an especially nice touch. Very classy.”
“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”
“Your issue is with the paper choice? We paid extra for the thicker stock.”
“I swear to Christ.” I stabbed a finger onto the paper—right at Maddie’s mostly blank hard limits. “How did you let her get away with giving these kinds of answers?”
For the handful of years I’d known them, Cohen and Atlas had created and run Gilded with an emphasis on safe exploration. They were especially cautious with someone as new to the scene as Maddie.
He echoed as much. “She doesn’t know what she’s looking for yet.”
“Did you even try to talk to her about setting some damn boundaries?”
“Nope. She didn’t ask for my opinion.”
I threw my arm out toward the door. It was that or throw a punch. “So you thought letting her offer herself up to a room of hungry wolves was a better option than overstepping? I don’t even want to think about what would’ve happened if I hadn’t shown up. Someone could’ve taken advantage of her inexperience.”
“Right, that’s all this is. Moral outrage. Not that you want to be the only one corrupting pretty little Maddie.”
I clenched my jaw.
He took in my reaction and silence before smirking. “Lemme reiterate what I texted since you don’t seem to get it. She’s an adult. She can make her own choices. If she wants someone to teach her, I’m not going to stop it.”
“She doesn’t even fucking know what she signed up for,” I gritted out. “If someone like Stavros or Tripp had won her, they’d have torn her apart before she even knew what was happening.”
“She’s not their type.”
Usually, that was true. Stavros liked his women experienced and masochistic. Tripp was a friend, but he was also a narcissist who wanted someone to fawn over him. He made it easy by being likable, which left a trail of broken hearts when he moved on the next night.
Or occasionally the same night.
Maddie might not have fit their typical criteria, but the fact remained…
“She’s everyone’s type.”
“Even yours?” he tossed back.
I clenched my jaw again.
It was answer enough for him.
“As fun as fucking with you normally is,” he said as he grabbed a program booklet from the desk. “It’s less fun when you’re being a dumbass.” He flipped through the pages that contained an information sheet for every participant, similar to the kind that would be available for antiques at an auction house. He ended on Maddie’s and set it down.
“You sent me that,” I said, unsure why he was giving a repeat viewing.
“Look again.”
I skimmed the minimal answers, and her choice in safe word hit me in the chest and dick again.
Guppy.
