My feet were killing me. I slipped my feet out of my heels and rubbed them together to ease some of the soreness.“Keep telling yourself that. Rita, ...e’s fucking perfect,” Addie said, like this was the most delicious gossip she’d ever had the pleasure of sharing. “And he’s a surgeon. At CHOC. And gorgeous. So fucking gorgeous. Like cream in your pants gorgeous.”I rolled my eyes.“Let me see!”Addie was already on her phone, pulling up Wes’s Facebook.“You guys are such stalkers.”“Everyone does. The bed was huge, Gothic in its dark wood and posts. Leather straps hung from the corners. “Wait,” he commanded. Instinctively, I knew the rules. I knelt, legs slightly parted, my head down, arms at a ninety degree angle, palms up. My need to please him was overwhelming. From this position he could see my shame, he could see the desperate need between my legs. He knew the power he had over me, my treatourous body that ached for his touch, ached for his control, ached to be used by him. He put. More

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