Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
“That’s true,” he states then he’s gone to his office. He basically lives in it. His social life is practically non-existent.
The girls start coming in, followed by security. Red lights shine over the dark furniture as a girl takes a secluded room waiting for our guests to arrive.
You see, you’ve just entered the most expensive, elite club in the southern hemisphere.
Once you’re in, you are in.
Once you’re out, you are dead.
Let me introduce you to our very private, very exclusive club.
Crimson Elite.
4
Elicea
Finding an outfit is next to impossible, I hate it. Nothing fits right, sits right. Maybe I shouldn’t go. No, I shouldn’t. You don’t go somewhere because a stranger on the street gives you a card offering you your only means of survival and to keep my small apartment over my head.
Tracey comes in with a wine glass in hand and sits on my bed.
“You shouldn’t be drinking, you have to work today,” I tell her, taking the glass and drinking what’s left of it.
She laughs then falls back onto my bed. “Anything you wear will do. Stop stressing. It’s not like it’s a sex club and you have to walk around in your lingerie.”
My laugh is fake. Then I realize I don’t even know what this place is. On the card it only reads Crimson Elite and there’s an address.
“What if it is?” I ask sitting down next to her. Looking down at all my clothes which are currently piled on the floor. There are never enough options. She laughs, sitting up and pouring herself one more glass.
“Yeah, right, don’t you think if something like that existed, we’d know about it? I mean, this city is small.”
“You’re right. I mean it could be an accounting firm for all I know.” Getting back up, I put on a small black skirt, one I can pull down if necessary. Then slide on a baby-blue blouse that shows just the right amount of cleavage, which can also be done up to hide the girls if need be.
“Perfect, you must wear that. Just show some more boob.” I don’t listen to her, though. Tracey loves boobs, that’s why she went and paid for hers to be done.
“I have to go or I’m going to be late. Can I swing by after?”
She nods her head, already dressed in her work clothes, as she gets up and walks out with me. “Boss isn’t in tonight. Plus, I’m sure Billy would love to see you.”
I roll my eyes as I grab my purse, following her out. “Nothing happening there, Tracey. Now or ever.” She gets into her car and waves as she drives off.
The address on the card is close by, so I end up walking the short distance. But it takes me a moment to find exactly where the entrance is located. It’s a large building, not what I thought it would be. Maybe it’s a factory? I go to pull my skirt down as the front door opens. Music filters out and hits me, making me stand tall.
He’s standing there, watching me with intent in those eyes. The green spots stand out under the light of the door, and I can see him even clearer now. If I thought he looked good in the dark lighting, now under the bright light I have to look away. His vest clings to his white shirt and his black slacks fit him like a glove. A red handkerchief is tucked into the pocket of his vest. He doesn’t smile or offer me a warm greeting. His eyes graze me over from top to bottom. “That should do,” is all he offers while holding the door open, indicating for me to enter.
My feet start walking before I can process what I’m doing. The music is loud, but not so loud that you can’t hear yourself. The red lights hit me first. Then the door behind me shuts with a loud bang and I jump forward. His hand touches my waist. I feel like I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t be doing. His fingers burn straight through my clothes and set my skin on fire. The heat is intense. Afraid to move, I wait for him, his breath near my ear and neither of us speaking. Stepping back, I can’t stand it anymore, he consumes me with those hands on my body. Turning around then back to him, his hands are now at his sides, his eyes to the floor, forehead scrunched and lost in thought.
He’s intense. Too intense. I know if his hands were to touch me again, I’d give in to whatever he wanted. Even if I didn’t fully understand what that was. And that thought scares the hell out of me. I wait for him to look back up, to tell me what it is he wants me to do. Just as I think it, it happens, and he steps forward into my space.