“Maddie,” he holds out his hand for me when he spots me hovering by the open door. “I want you to meet my friends.” I pad dutifully into the living room, having no time to give the house the kind of inspection I’d like to. I catch a few telling glimpses; it’s not unlike Bailey’s loft, eclectic and exacting. But I must move on to greet my future s*x partners. These men are dressed as casually as Bailey, in shorts or jeans, and seem much more easygoing than the guys in Blue-eyes’ cult. They don’t eye me with the same lusty fascination, but act as though they are meeting Bailey’s girlfriend, not his latest s*x toy. I’m a little surprised.
“Pull up a pillow and sit by me,” he directs, motioning me to a stack of three large pillows nearby. I follow the order and comfortably install myself bes
