Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 16504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 83(@200wpm)___ 66(@250wpm)___ 55(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 83(@200wpm)___ 66(@250wpm)___ 55(@300wpm)
Lovers bit their lips, holding back their cries as they fucked in the dark corners.
Not tonight, though.
Passing the tables in the middle of the room, a woman sat on top, leaning back with her mouth open in pleasure. More than two sets of hands roamed her body, tugging her top down and plucking at her nipples. All while her dress bunched at her waist, and a dark head worked between her thighs.
It was exactly what Daniel promised. A night of lust, passion, and immoral delights. Members chomped at the bit to pay the astronomical price for the special event—ready to support the good cause.
Making it across the room, I smiled when I saw the happy couple.
“Your drinks,” I greeted.
I passed the glasses to two of my favorite customers—Ian and Carina Bergamo.
“Yum,” Carina exclaimed, chasing the sugar-lined rim with her tongue.
“Thanks, Mar,” Ian said.
“That last drink is mine.” His voice came from just out of my line of sight.
The deep timber stroked my neck, sending chills down my back, urging me to turn and find the man it was attached to. Just as it had the first time, his voice called to me—wrapped around me—demanding I stay right where he wanted me. With a deep breath, I slipped my professional mask in place and faced him.
If I thought he was addictively captivating before, it was nothing compared to seeing him enmeshed in the sexy atmosphere at Voyeur. I looked up, up, up, finding the same dark eyes with hints of blue sparking with the all-too-familiar arrogance.
It was that gloating confidence that made it easier to ignore the broad shoulders, salt and pepper scruff that had been missing before, and lips that promised sin. It was exactly what I needed to keep at least some control over myself.
“Here you go.” I passed him his glass, making sure not to brush my fingers with his. His gravity begged me to curl up at his feet. If I touched him, my resolve to keep my distance may shatter.
“Amara, you remember Atlas,” Ian said.
Somehow, the odd name suited him—unique, unlike anything you’d known before. Atlas. I repeated his name in my mind, wishing I could feel the way it fell from my lips. “I figured you would have gone back home—wherever home is for you.” I hoped it was far, far, far away from here. Somewhere that wouldn’t have him coming back to chip away at the thin veneer holding me in place.
“Nah. This is much more interesting than New York.”
New York didn’t seem far enough, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.
“And what’s so interesting to you about Cincinnati?”
“Right now?” He took his time to answer, wrapping those lips around the edge of the glass like he was making love to it. When he pulled back, his tongue chased the liquid, and I hated the urge to climb on his lap to do the same. “You.”
“Oh, god,” Carina groaned.
I forced my own scoff to hide the shameful way my core clenched over the corny line. Jesus. What the hell did this man do to me?
“Also, Ian told me about Voyeur—so I figured I’d come check it out myself. Why not be charitable at the same time?”
“How gallant of you,” I deadpanned.
“I do my best,” he responded with a wink.
Fuck, I hated how much I wanted to simper under his attention—from a stupid, pretentious wink. Disgusted with myself, I managed to shift most of my attention away. However, even out of the corner of my eye, he was all I could see. Apparently, leaving him behind and putting as much distance between us as possible hadn’t been enough to fortify my defenses. In fact, they practically stood like fractured sugared glass, one soft blow from crumbling.
“So, what day are you dressed up as?” I asked Ian.
“I’m a lord leaping.”
“Oh, well then, let’s see some leaps. Show me what you’ve got,” I taunted.
His friendly smile turned wicked. “Oh, I’m leaping for my wife, all right.” He leaned back, spreading his legs to showcase the impressive length pressing against his pants.
I attempted to join Carina in rolling her eyes, but Atlas’s deep chuckle tickled down my body, plucking at my nipples before dipping in my core. I barely managed to contain the shiver of pleasure.
“And you,” I asked Carina, taking in her lacy French maid costume, similar to mine. “Are you one of my French hens?”
“Close. Except, I’m very obviously a maid milking,” she explained, gesturing toward her full breasts spilling over the edge of her outfit.
“Duh. And how are those beautiful babies?”
“Great,” she said with a dreamy but exhausted smile. “But I am very ready for a night to remind myself that I’m a sexual woman.”
“A night we all deserve,” I said, lowering my eyes to crest over the lush curves of her body.
Trying to replicate the way Atlas looked at me, I took my time, letting her feel the caress of my gaze as if it were my hands.