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FREYA PRESTON was not afraid of anything. In fact, there was only one person she was truly petrified of, however, since he was no longer in the picture, she couldn't understand what was there to be afraid of?
That was right, I spoke to myself in third person, to try and get the objective explanation, if that was possible. However, I came up blank. Multiple scenarios, of various endings popped in my brain, and as many of them had a good ending, I was yet to understand the reason for the shaky body and anxiety.
Elijah had called me earlier in the day, because I failed to reply to his message quickly. Quite frankly, it was because I was too busy gawking at his text, and somewhere along the way, I had forgotten to respond.
He wanted to wine and dine me in one of the most expensive restaurants. As tempting as it sounded, I decided to decline the offer. Simply, the night that awaited me was something that I've been looking forward to since I began to work for him, hence why I didn't want to have too much food before I arrived.
My heels clicked behind me as I walked, echoing the deadly silent street. The familiar building came to view, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I couldn't exactly say why I decided to walk instead of taking an Uber, because the heels weren't as comfortable as they looked.
The black, trench coat fell below my knees and the few people that walked past me gave me an odd look. Yes, I knew that it was summer still and that it was blazing hot, despite the sun setting hours ago. But, I wore nothing but my newest set of lingerie underneath and had to cover that somehow.
This wasn't my first time being in a contract where I was the submissive one in the relationship. I knew what most doms liked and how to act, which was why I decided on wearing something with easy access. However, Elijah Vaughn was a man that managed to surprise me multiple times, and I already felt deeply inside of me that I did not truly know what I'd gotten myself into.
The security guard at the entrance of Elijah's building gave me a curt nod, which I reciprocated with the smallest smile. Thankfully, there was the elevator I'd been looking forward to seeing for the past thirty minutes.
The bell dinged and I entered Elijah's apartment. It was empty, not a single trace of him being there existed. Two glasses of scotch waited for me at the coffee table that I remembered, alongside one of the most expensive alcoholic drinks.
''You're here,'' Elijah announced his presence as he walked down the stairs, ''Let's grab a drink.''
Quite honestly, I heard him, loud and clear, but it took me a solid minute to understand the words that slipped his mouth.
Elijah was dressed in a white shirt, one of the many he wore for business meetings, however, what took me by surprise was the black, leather vest, and a matching pair of leather gloves that he took off as he took his approach.
His hair was styled backwards, with a small front piece falling over his forehead, lightly touching his eyelashes. He looked way too good for me to prevent myself from bouncing on him immediately upon my arrival.
