Chapter 18
Stefan woke up in bed.
It was the master bedroom. The door was open. He was alone. Someone was singing in the shower—probably, judging by the ear-bleedingly loud warble, Daz—and the clock on the bedside table said it was almost ten o’clock in the morning.
Stefan didn’t even know what day it was.
He turned over experimentally, and felt a deep, pleasant ache. His muscles were sore—and yet, the pleasant kind of sore. As though he’d worked out, or had…well, had marathon s*x. Which in a way, he supposed he had.
He was wearing another belt, but he hadn’t been plugged. The belt was leather, with a thin metal waistband, and locked at the back with a combination padlock. His thigh cuff had been locked back around his leg, tight and warm, and there was a leather collar around his nec
