The conversation continues. I try to participate, nodding and smiling at the right moments, but every time I open my mouth the toy changes. Low. High. Pulsing. Kane plays me like an instrument and no one notices. My face feels flushed. My breathing is shallow. I’m so close already and he hasn’t even touched me.

Halfway through dinner Kane excuses himself. A minute later my phone vibrates with a text.

Bathroom. Now. Last stall.

I wait thirty seconds, then mumble something about needing the restroom. My legs feel unsteady as I walk. The toy is still buzzing on a low setting, keeping me right on the edge.

The women’s bathroom...