6
Damon
I picked her up at eight. She opened the door without a word. She was in a soft black dress with clingy fabric that seemed to swallow the light and her with it. Her collarbones were sharp. Her eyes flicked to the small box in my hand, but she didn’t ask.
“You remember what I said?” I asked.
She nodded. “I wear it under everything.”
“Good girl.”
She stepped back, letting me in. Her hair was tied back, and she had no makeup on. She looked stripped down in a way that had nothing to do with clothes. She looked honest and nervous.
“Show me.”
She hesitated. Then her fingers came up, pulling down the neckline just enough to reveal the slim black collar. Soft leather, simple buckle with no tag.
Not yet.
I stepped in and ran one finger along the edge of it. She held still, breath
