We cross the foyer toward the cloakroom, and Dan nods politely to Gerald, still hovering and eying me suspiciously. I produce a small ticket from the back pocket of my jeans and slide it across the counter to the receptionist-come-attendant in charge of personal possessions. Freya explained before we came here that handbags and cameras are not allowed inside the club, for reasons to do with security as well as convenience. In fairness, it would be hard to keep track of belongings while strapped naked to the dungeon wall. My coat and bag appear on the counter—I thank the attendant and turn to Dan. Not sure what the protocol is here, I offer him my hand. “Thank you. For an…enjoyable…evening. Sir.” He regards my outstretched hand disparagingly. “Now, Summer, I thought we’d got past all that.” He smiles as he places his palms on my cheeks and kisses me. I’m angry with him, resentful and confused by my own feelings. Still I respond, opening my lips to accept his tongue at the same time as I reach up to run my fingers through his damp hair.
