Chapter Five
There were strange goings on in the house next door. Men coming and going at odd hours, business meetings, I assumed; even so, I found myself oddly on edge with all the activity. What was my submissive doing while the gentlemen callers were occupied inside the house with Harry Gale? Serving them coffee and drinks, perhaps? Entertaining them with her smiles? Or was there more than Harry’s business meetings taking place, rather something sleazier, involving the wife going on while I pined for her next door, growing increasingly enraged that she was denied to me?
Paranoia is a strange thing. There were no facts to feed the truth, so I dined on supposition and my escalating imagination. A dozen times that day I had to shake myself loose from my thoughts and remind myself that I
