Chapter 5

PIPER STOMPED UP THE steps, slammed through the gate, and headed straight for #110—completely livid. The utter gall of the man!

She had tried everything to make friends and get him to lighten up, but he grew increasingly rude with each interaction. On top of that, he was a liar. He’d said no when she asked point-blank if he was attending yesterday’s party then showed up chugging a beer and chatting with Hunter and his friends. She hadn’t acknowledged him, hurt that he disliked her so much he felt the need to lie.

The note she found in her mailbox had pushed her over the edge.

Just a friendly reminder, it’s always a good idea to choose suitable attire when attending a family-friendly event at the complex. Revealing too much skin might unintentionally give others the wrong impression.

She’d read it through twice, stunned anyone would be so brazen. Clearly, the writer referred to Hunter’s pool party, as it was the only event she had been to since moving in. Incensed, she crumpled the rude note in her hand. She might have a few more curves than the average girl, but her conservative bikini wasn’t more revealing than what any other woman wore at the party.

The cowardly note was unsigned, but after the comment he’d made about her skirt, which was perfectly professional, she knew it was from the grouch next door. She wasn’t about to let it slide without giving him a piece of her mind.

She envisioned steam billowing out of her ears as she knocked sharply on Tristan’s door. When he opened it, she didn’t waste even a fraction of a second before unloading on him.

“Do you make a habit of being a jerk, or do you reserve that pleasure only for me?”

“Hello to you too, Piper,” he replied in a languid drawl.

“You have some nerve, you know that?”

He raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Care to explain what you’re talking about?”

“I know the note came from you,” she confidently asserted. “What I wear, or don’t wear, is none of your business. I’ve tried being nice and have gone out of my way to be friendly, but you’re impossible.” She literally and figuratively threw up her hands, “I give up. Stay out of my way, my business, and my life, and I’ll return the favor.”

With that said, she turned on her heel and stomped off.

“What note?” he called after her.

“As if you don’t know,” she shot back without turning, and didn’t stop until she reached her door, keyed in her code, and disappeared inside. Then she leaned against the wall, trembling with anger and a good dose of shock that she’d told off a guy who was twice as big, made of muscle, with the strength to snap her like a twig, and intimidated the crap out of her.

THE FOLLOWING MORNING , bright and early, Piper was no longer fuming but determined to get answers. She knocked on her neighbor’s door. When she didn’t hear a sound from inside, she hesitated before knocking again. Maybe it was too bright and too early.

Suddenly, the door swung open, revealing a disheveled Josie wrapped in a fuzzy pink robe, her eyes heavy with sleep,

“I woke you. I’m so sorry.” She retreated a step, feeling awful. “This can wait. Go back to bed.”

When Piper turned to leave, her friend grabbed her hand to stop her.

“I was already awake, just waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. Come on in.”

As she followed, Piper took in her neighbor’s space. Hunter’s floor plan mirrored hers but in reverse. The decor had a welcoming, lived-in feel, with pictures and art on the walls, where hers were still bare. With its eastern exposure, the kitchen was bathed in sunlight, and the tantalizing scent of coffee filled the air.

“Would you like a cup?” her impromptu hostess offered.

“I’m new here, but for future reference, the answer to that question is always going to be, ‘Yes, please.’”

Laughing, Josie reached up to retrieve a mug from the cupboard. “Do you take it with cream? I have French vanilla or Caramel Macchiato.”

“Either is fine. I like both.”

Piper waited until she placed a steaming mug in front of her and took a seat before blurting out, “He is the most infuriatingly rude, judgmental Neanderthal man I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting. What is his problem?”

Startled, Josie blinked at her over the rim of her cup. “Hunter?”

“No, Tristan.”

Her friend set down her cup and clarified, “He was rude to you again?”

“When hasn’t he been?” she asked huffily.

“That’s so odd.” Josie frowned, clearly puzzled. “I mean, he doesn’t say much, and he can be surly, but he’s never been impolite to me. In fact, he special-ordered something from me and was quite pleasant.”

Some of her kink-wear, perhaps? Intrigued, she leaned in. “What kind of special order?”

“Just...um...gloves.” Her halting reply came much too quickly, in Piper’s opinion, and then she practically jumped from her seat. “Are you hungry? I think we have coffee cake,” she announced, opening cupboards. “Or fresh fruit, if you’d rather.”

Josie was flustered, and obviously hiding something, but she’d provided the information Piper sought. She crossed her arms on the table, her head dipping forward, and let out a sigh. “It’s as I suspected. If he’s polite to you, it must just be me he’s disagreeable with.”

“What was it about this time?”

“I had the audacity to knock on his door and deliver some misdirected mail. That’s an unpardonable crime, evidently. Whenever I try to talk to him, he either bites my head off or slams his door in my face.”

“Wow. That’s nothing like the Tristan I know. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes the day you moved in, I wouldn’t believe it. Did something happen between you two I don’t know about?”

“No. I’m just trying to be neighborly to the infuriating grump.” Piper unleashed the questions that had been nagging at her. “What is his background? Did he go through a messy divorce? Maybe I look like his ex. Was she blonde? What about his childhood? Was he sheltered, or perhaps raised by the Amish?”

Surprised mid-sip, she sputtered and coughed before she got out, “Why on earth would you ask that?”

“He has a problem with the way I dress.”

Her friend glanced at her outfit—a T-shirt and shorts that reached mid-thigh—nothing remotely scandalous.

“What’s wrong with the way you dress?” she inquired, sounding offended on her behalf. “And why is it any of his business?”

“That’s what I said!” She threw her hands up in frustration but also felt validated. “He thinks I’m asking for trouble by flaunting my assets.”

“Oh my god! He actually said that?”

“I’m paraphrasing. What he said was even worse.” Piper sniffed disdainfully. “He attempted to justify it by claiming his advice was based on a security professional’s perspective.”

“That part is true, at least,” Josie admitted. “He works for a reputable security company here in town. They frequently make headlines.”

“Really? How so?”

“Their specialty is ‘protection for the stars,’ but they also handle investigations and have successfully solved several high-profile cases. One standout case I remember involved a serial rapist the LAPD couldn’t catch. I wasn’t living here at the time, but Hunter mentioned that the entire city was on edge because, after he finished with them, the victims turned up in dumpsters—dead.”

“That’s horrifying,” Piper gasped. “When did all of this happen?”

Josie shrugged. “Around a year ago, maybe? Definitely over eight months ago, which was when I moved from New York. The city was still buzzing about it because it had just happened. Hunter and practically everyone I met who knew I was a transplant warned me to be careful.”

Piper leaned back in her chair, trying to process this new information in light of everything Tristan had said. “It being so recent, maybe I stir up memories of the victims.”

“That’s a possibility. He also has a military background. Those guys have a strong inclination to protect and defend. Tristan, being special forces, was deployed to Afghanistan a lot. I can’t imagine what he experienced, but it must have been some pretty bad stuff.”

“Do you think he has PTSD?”

“I don’t know about that, but several in his unit were injured, and a few never made it home. That kind of bad.”

“Also, according to Hunter?”

“Yeah.” Josie laughed softly. “Be careful what you tell him. He’s not exactly a vault, is he?”

Piper’s shoulders slumped. “Now I feel bad for calling him a jerk.”

“You didn’t!” Josie exclaimed.

“I did. Twice.”

“He’s probably coming off that way because... Maybe I shouldn’t say.”

“Say what?”

Josie simply stared back at her.

“You can’t spill some beans and then suddenly hit pause. You’ve got to tell me now!”

“He’s a dominant. You know, into BDSM.”

She could have knocked her over with a feather. Out of all the things she might have guessed she would say, that wasn’t one of them.

“And he belongs to a club,” Josie explained further. “We can’t lay the blame on Hunter for spilling this time. Members at Decadence have confidentiality agreements, but sometimes my customers talk.”

Josie’s leather fetish-wear customers. Suddenly, the image of a bare-chested Tristan with the length of a black whip coiled around his feet flashed before her eyes. It intrigued and aroused her more than it should have.

“Speaking of the club. They’re hosting a vendor day in a few weeks. I’m going to be there showing off my wares, and I’ve been looking for someone to help.”

“Are you suggesting... Me?” Piper squeaked both excited and appalled by the idea.

She’d seen the Fifty Shades movies—who hadn’t? And read several books in the genre. But they were stuff of fantasy. She never imagined setting foot inside a dungeon—ever.

“Why not?” Josie asked. “I could use the moral support. I make the outfits, but I’ve never been to a kink club before.”

Curious, but also horrified, she stammered, “I...uh... Can I think about it?”

“Sure. But don’t think too long. There’s some paperwork you’ll have to fill out, including the confidentiality agreement that some of my clients are lackadaisical about following. They said processing would take a few days. I’d need to know by Monday, I would think.”

As they sipped their coffee, silence fell between them. It was probably for the best, considering Piper’s thoughts about Tristan weren’t exactly suitable for morning conversation.

“So,” Josie said at length. “Are you giving up on cracking that gorgeous hunk of man’s impenetrable outer shell?”

“I should. Except for critiquing my wardrobe, he barely knows I’m alive.”

“I doubt that. I’ve seen him watch you walk away. He definitely knows you exist.”

“Was he frowning? If so, it was probably disapproval over the fit of my skirt,” Piper muttered.

“Do you want to hear my thoughts on that?”

“Yes!”

“He’s got darkness in his past, as I mentioned, and as a dom, his desires are darker than some. You, my friend, are a small- town girl from Iowa who is a ray of sunshine. My guess is he thinks he’s too dark for your light.”

“I’ve known soldiers who carry baggage from serving. My dad, for example. As for the dark desires, how bad could they be?”

An image materialized before her eyes of a dim chamber with stone walls. The soft glow of flickering sconces made shadows dance around the room and across Tristan’s handsome face. He stood with his arms crossed, muscles bulging, bare from the waist up, once again. His gaze homed in on her as she entered the chamber, her only clothing a delicate, shimmering white sheath. Then he crooked a finger, summoning her to him.

The wood floor creaked beneath her feet as she approached. When she stood before him, close enough for her to feel his body heat, the spicy scent of soap, leather, and man swirled seductively around her.

He took her hand, leading her deeper into the shadowy depths of the room. Then he wrapped cuffs around her wrists and secured them to sturdy bolts embedded in the wall above her head.

His whispered declaration sent shivers racing down her spine. “You’re mine now to do with as I please.”

She could barely breathe, much less think, as he explored her body through the sheath, tracing intricate patterns that intensified every sensation. Then he slipped his thumbs beneath the delicate straps, and, with a snap, the material slithered down her body—

“Earth to Piper.” Josie jolted her back to the sunny kitchen. “Where did you go?”

“I, uh, kind of zoned out there.” Embarrassed, she picked up her mug, empty except for a tiny sip. “It’s my body’s way of saying I need more caffeine.”

“Or maybe it’s a sign not to give up on our bald, bearded, bad-ass neighbor just yet,” Josie suggested with a knowing grin. “He reminds me of Vin Diesel, only younger, bigger, and hotter. Don’t you think?”

Piper cleared her throat and promptly changed the subject. “About the vendor fair at this kink club. What would you need me to do, exactly?”

“Message received,” her friend acknowledged with a laugh. “I’ll shut up about you and Tristan—for now. But I need someone to handle sales transactions while I take measurements. I have some pre-made pieces, but most of my stuff is custom made.”

“What if we run into you-know-who?”

Josie shrugged with indifference. “What if we do? He’s your neighbor, not your big brother. Besides, the place is supposedly massive, with a membership to match. What are the odds?”

Piper hesitated, weighing the strain that existed between them already. Given her lifelong streak of bad luck, she wasn’t sure if it was worth the risk.

“I’m hoping to have some time to explore while we’re there,” Josie tempted her further. “Aren’t you curious?”

In truth, it consumed her. And since Tristan disapproved of almost everything she did anyway, why not?

“Count me in,” Piper agreed at last.

In a burst of excitement, Josie rounded the table to give her a big hug. “Thank you. I have to admit I was a little worried about managing everything on my own.”

Her enthusiasm was infectious. “What should I wear?”

“One of my dresses, of course. With your curves and long legs, you’ll be a walking advertisement!”

Her face must have reflected her horror because Josie quickly added, “I promise it will be conservative, covering all the important parts.”

Piper mimicked wiping beads of sweat from her brow. “I imagined—”

“A cupless bra and a thong?” Josie suggested back at the coffeemaker, inserting a pod for a second cup.

“Worse.” Then she asked, wide-eyed, “Do you make those?”

“I make that and much less. Some dresses are little more than a series of straps. But yours will be classy.” She returned to her seat, reached across the table, and squeezed her hand. “You’re doing me a huge favor, Piper. Do you realize how much leather I could sell?”

In a split second, her face underwent a complete transformation. Her auburn brows furrowed, and she nervously bit her lip, shifting from exuberance to anxiety.

“What if I can’t handle the volume? I mean, I have stock on hand, but not in all sizes and designs. And pre-mades will need alterations and fittings. Holy shit! What have I gotten myself into?”

“First, breathe,” Piper urged her friend. “Second, make a sign for your booth that says allow however many weeks for special orders and sizes then hire some help afterward.”

Considering her suggestion, Josie nodded. “I could do that.” Then she asserted with more confidence, “I can do this.”

“Yes, you can,” she agreed, smiling.

Picking up her mug, she followed her advice and took a deep breath before sipping, although her worried look didn’t completely go away. Then, like a trouper, she changed the subject. “That’s enough about me. How are your auditions going?”

Piper leaned back in her chair and grunted. “As they say back home, as slow as molasses in January. But on the bright side, closings are going incredibly well. I’m grateful to have that to fall back on if my acting career is a bust.”

“I don’t mean to pry, but does that earn enough to pay your bills?”

“Back in Iowa, no way. But closings in LA are $300-450 a pop depending on time and complexity, and I’ve been averaging three a day.”

Josie gazed back at her, obviously doing the math in her head, then she blinked in astonishment. “Damn. I picked the wrong business.”

“You’re an artist and get to do what you love. I have an analytical mind that helps me make sure all the Is are dotted, and the Ts are crossed. Not the same thing, and not what I want to do all my life.” Piper pulled out her phone. “When is this event, so I can clear my calendar?”

“Two weeks from Saturday from one to five before the club officially opens at six. Once we pack up, that doesn’t give us much time, but I’m hoping there will be a few lulls to snoop and gawk.”

So did she, but if she came across a shadowy, sconce-lit room with stone walls, she’d lose it.

“Saturday works for me,” she said, leaving thoughts of the dungeon and Tristan for another time and place. “I don’t do weekend signings, and it’s not like I have casting directors beating down my door.”

Josie let out a heavy sigh and grabbed her hand again. “Thank you. You’ve set my mind at ease.”

“You’re making a go of your own business. You would do great even without me.”

“You think that because... What’s that old saying? Fake it until you make it? As you just saw, I’m a nervous wreck. Maybe I missed my calling and should have been an actress.”

Piper chuckled and teasingly offered, “We could swap careers.”

Josie vehemently shook her head. “No way am I going through what you do, getting ready for auditions and then sitting on pins and needles, waiting for callbacks. I may act like I have a thick skin, but I am not good at rejection.”

“Neither am I. Impenetrable Tristan is a good example.”

“Maybe you’ll meet someone more approachable at Club Decadence. My loose-lipped clients tell me the owners are all ex-military hotties like our neighbor. Confident and dominant, sure, but hopefully not as grumpy.”

“Hmm. Now I’m really glad I said yes.”

They touched mugs and sat back to finish their coffee silently, both lost in their thoughts.