Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
“Thanks,” the smile she offers him is damn right lustful. Grasping his hand, she takes her time pushing the inker into his skin and then stamps mine with a quick flick of her wrist. “Have fun.” She purrs.
The bouncers wave their metal detectors over us, and my stomach drops when it beeps over Zane. Digging into his pocket, he pulls out a metal lighter and shows them the cause. They look between themselves and then jerk their chin for him to move aside and turn their focus on me, patting my body down. Their hands on me make me want to gut them both.
“Maybe buy me a drink before grouping me.” I snap.
“Go ahead.” The doors open, and sultry music pours through, matching the beat of my heart. I shrug to Zane and head down a stairs, walking straight into a club. “That was easy enough.”
“Were you worried they would card you?” He raises a brow, his gaze sweeping over my body.
Actually, that hadn’t crossed my mind.
Stepping further inside, a smile spreads up my face. It’s not too different from the clubhouse when they host parties for other chapters. Women twirl and grind on poles on a raised dancefloor. A bar runs in an L shape along the back wall. Mirrored ceilings give the illusion of endless space and views from all angles. Men from all walks of life fill the tables, with beautiful dancers grinding on them up close and personal—skin to skin. My eyes trail to the top floor. A large office overlooks the bar. A spiral staircase leads to the entrance, another giant guarding the route up.
Ronaldo must feel real macho up there. I snort a laugh.
“What’s funny?”
“How trashy and lame this guy must be.”
“He feeds on the fact that he’s related to an Aire. It makes him feel untouchable.” Zane narrows his eyes on the bouncer.
“Why surround himself with muscle if he feels untouchable?” I jut my chin toward the bar. “Let’s get a drink.”
Zane leans over to the bar and curls his finger toward the bartender. “Two beers,” he tells him, dropping money down, earning an appreciative smile.
“He likes you,” I tease, looking over my shoulder at the guy’s ass in a pair of black leather slacks.
“Everything with a pulse likes me, Lily. I’m pretty.”
I bark a genuine laugh then swig the beer he hands me, tilting my head toward him. “You certainly are. Maybe you should have worn this dress.”
“Nah, it doesn’t match my shoes.”
I knock my shoulder into his, biting my lip. After such heavy confessions last night, it’s nice that we can be ourselves. I’ve never had that. The ink from the stamps glow now we’re surrounded by black lights. The word FLESH glares up at me.
“Let’s get a table.” Taking my hand, he leads me to the far end of the club, away from crowd. The warmth of his palm in mine sends butterflies jumping around my stomach.
I like and hate it.
The contradiction sits heavy in my chest. It fills intimate holding hands. I like to be in control when it comes to men and sex and who I allow to touch me. Stomach flutters and heart palpitations whenever he looks at me isn’t control.
Holding out my chair for me, I sit and survey the office while sipping my beer. The space is on full show, illuminated by a bright hanging chandelier hovering above a desk in the centre of the room. A heavy-set bald man is sitting at it. Cabinets span the wall behind him a set of metal doors are to his right. Another man enters via the staircase. He’s wearing a black suit like the bouncers at the door. He touches his earpiece, and a conversation ensues with the bald man waving his arms around like a conductor. You don’t have to hear the conversation to know the poor bastard is getting an earful.
Leaning into Zane, I ask, “Is that Ronaldo?”
Following the path of my gaze, Zane shifts in his seat, his tongue swiping out to dampen his lips, making need build in my womb. He’s so close I can taste the beer on his breath.
“Yeah. Overseeing the club makes him feel like a king, no doubt.”
“More like a fucking idiot.” I scoff.
Chuckling, he leans back into my space, and my body wants to close the gap and give in to the lust coursing through me.
“Kelly said he often brings girls up from the sex club and fucks them over his desk.”
“Pig.” My hand tightens around the beer bottle. “Must mean there’s an entrance to the sex club in here, though, right?”
He subtly motions to the right of the room, where a second set of steel doors stand out. “An elevator?” I gasp, whipping my head back up to the office. The metal doors are in the same place.