The Architect (Nashville Neighborhood Book 3) Nikki Sloane (sight word books TXT) 📖

damp skin, I peered at my reflection and the faint yellowing purple bruise by my hip. It’d been six days since Clay’s rough hand had pinned me to the table, and I wore the memory of it still.

It turned me on just looking at it.

“Who left the light on in the bathroom?” a male voice grumbled to himself.

I was slow to react. I’d just finished turning to face the doorway when Greg stepped in and pulled up short at the sight of me.

“Oh,” he said. “I didn’t know you were in here.”

His innocent gaze swept over me and came to an abrupt stop on my bruise. I shifted the wet fabric in my hands, holding it over my waist to hide the mark, and tried to act natural.

“I got splashed,” I said like an idiot.

My clipped voice and quick move to cover up only made it worse, and Greg’s handsome face turned serious as he nodded toward my hip. “What happened there?”

“Nothing.” I dry-swallowed, buying myself time to come up with a plausible lie. “I caught the edge of an exam table at work.”

He kept his tone even, non-accusatory. “And the backs of your legs?”

What?

I turned, realizing dimly he could see all of my back side through the mirror. The worst of the marks were hidden under my bikini bottom, but red-purple lines peeked out beneath and crisscrossed the top of the backs of my thighs.

Clay had instructed Travis to use the flogger last night, and the sweet sting of it had been heaven. I loved the beautiful patterns it’d left on me, but I hadn’t realized they would show until I’d slipped into my swimsuit earlier this afternoon.

“Uh . . .” I racked my brain for an explanation.

Greg glanced out into the kitchenette, and when he didn’t see anyone, he stepped all the way inside the bathroom and pulled the door closed behind him. He spoke in the low, soothing voice of a doctor. “Lilith, is everything okay?”

I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, trying not to be embarrassed. “It’s fine.”

“Is someone hurting you?”

I exhaled and shook my head. “No, no. It’s not like that.”

“Cassidy said you’re dating someone new. Did he do this?”

Dear God, I was going to have to come clean. Greg was a doctor, which meant he had a legal obligation to report suspected abuse. I hated having to tell him though, because Clay was so private, and it was extremely likely Greg was going to figure out who I was talking about. I didn’t care who knew I was into the lifestyle, but I didn’t want to ‘out’ Clay to one of our neighbors.

My face heated, but I lifted my chin and tried to look confident. “It was consensual.”

“Consensual,” he repeated.

“Yes.”

“I see.” His concern didn’t fade. “You sure? No one’s making you do anything you don’t want to, right?”

I gave a tight smile. “I’m sure. Trust me, I like what we do.”

He slowly relaxed a degree. “Okay.” He’d probably seen a lot of shit during his residency, so there wasn’t judgement in his eyes. Just the conditioned doctor response. “We don’t know each other that well, but if you ever need someone to talk to, or start to feel unsafe with your partner . . . you can come to me. I’m here.”

My chest was tight with awkwardness, but with warmth too. He was a good guy, and I was glad Cassidy was with him. Despite their age difference, and the messed-up situation with Preston, they made a great pair.

“Thanks, Greg.”

He nodded, reached for the door handle, but didn’t open it. “I hope he’s taking good care of you, during and after.”

Maybe I’d sat in the afternoon sun too long, because for the second time today, I spoke without thinking. “Don’t worry, they are. One of them is a doctor.”

TWENTY

After I’d changed out of my swimsuit, I went back outside and took a seat at the patio table beside Cassidy. Like me, she was drinking water in preparation for the main event tonight.

“You know,” she said, “there’s plenty of room on the party bus if you want to invite a friend.” She pulled at the strands of her hair to tighten her dark ponytail. “Like, say—Dr. Eckhart.”

Two girls in the pool squealed with laughter as Colin did a backflip off the diving board and splashed them with water. Nearly everyone here was paired up, or at least they all knew each other. There were inside jokes and conversations about past high school friends I didn’t know, and while I was probably Cassidy’s closest friend now, it was hard not to feel like an outsider.

She had Greg, and I didn’t want to cling to her all night. I was outgoing, but I felt like Clay when I thought about the upcoming evening. Being around unfamiliar people was exhausting.

“Even if Travis is willing,” I said, “I don’t know how Clay would feel about that.” His comment about being jealous ran through my mind.

She said it like I was being silly. “You could ask him.”

I opened my mouth to explain it wasn’t that simple, and promptly shut it. She made an excellent point, and we needed to be better about communication. I picked up my phone and thumbed out a text.

Me: I’m going out for my friend’s birthday tonight and I don’t know most of the people going. Would you mind if I asked Travis to come so I’m not the odd one out?

I sent the message and tried not to hold my breath. Clay and I didn’t date, but we hadn’t talked about it with Travis. Clay had said he didn’t want to stand in the way, and it seemed strange that he would be okay sharing me with another man, but not letting me hang out with one.

The three dots blinked on my screen, and then vanished.

My heart sank. He was struggling with how to respond. Had I just complicated things between us even more?

A new text message popped up on my screen. It was a group message with Clay