Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
It wasn’t like that at all.
The inside of Club Eros looked . . . like any other club. There was a bar and a dance floor, and the lighting was dark and moody. A DJ booth was in the far corner, playing music with heavy bass and spinning a disco ball that cast glittering reflections everywhere.
There were more people than I expected, but hardly any on the dance floor. Most of them sat at the bar or the low tables scattered around the room, sipping drinks and holding conversations over the loud music. There were only a few couches and zero beds.
I put a hand on Noah’s shoulder and rose on my tiptoes to speak into his ear. “It’s just a bar?”
I hadn’t meant to sound disappointed, but he’d picked up on it. He looked sort of amused and devious. “This room is, yeah.” He motioned toward the bartender. “You want something to drink?”
“Sure. I’ll have a cosmo.”
I stuck close by his side as we strolled to the bar, but my gaze wandered around the room while he ordered for us. The outfits people wore were . . . diverse. At one table it’d be nice dresses and suits, and at the next it’d be pleather and latex. And it was odd how the tables were exclusively couples or groups, yet the bar was only men.
I kept my voice as low as possible over the music. “Are dudes only allowed to sit at the bar?”
He nodded. “Single men have to be invited anywhere else inside the club.”
Oh, wow. “So, if I wasn’t here, you’d . . .”
“Be sitting on one of those bar stools? Yup.” Our drinks arrived, he tossed down his credit card, and then passed the martini glass to me. A smirk teased his lips. “Turns out your favor is doing me a favor.”
I returned his smug smile. “Happy to help you out.”
After he settled up, he pointed to the door on the far side of the room. “Ready to see the rest of this place?”
I took a sip of my drink so it wasn’t so full, and nodded. “Lead the way.”
We weaved through the tables, passed by the dance floor, and strode through the open doorway. It was quieter here and more elegant too. The first room was a nightclub, but this one was a swanky lounge. There were velvet couches and oversized leather chairs, with low tables between them.
I only made it a few steps past the threshold before jerking to a stop. My drink sloshed over the rim of the glass, and the icy liquid dripped down my fingers.
An older man sat in one of the chairs, with his pants down around his ankles and a fistful of hair of the woman who was on her knees, currently blowing him. She bobbed her head, coating his dick with her saliva.
I blinked rapidly, maybe trying to clear the vision from my eyes. It wasn’t that I was turned off by what I saw—it was just so shocking. Blood rushed through me, heating my body, filling it with a sensation that felt oddly like secondhand shame. Because it was so public, and I’d spent a long time believing that sort of thing should only happen behind closed doors.
At first, I couldn’t look away. I stood utterly still, locked on to the woman’s every movement. It was almost mesmerizing how she surged up and down and let his hold on her hair guide her pace. I felt the man staring at me, and I held my breath tensely in my lungs.
Watching Noah when he’d been with Shannon had made me uncomfortable, but only because it’d been so insanely hot, I hadn’t known how to handle it. This? Watching these strangers? It only had a fraction of that heat. I felt uncomfortable in a different way, as if I’d intruded.
I ripped my gaze away, wheeling it around to look anywhere else, until it landed on Noah. His expression was . . . curious. Like he wanted to know what I was thinking.
“I’m trying not to stare,” I whispered.
“Why?” He asked it so casually. “They want people to watch. If they didn’t, they’d be in one of the private rooms.”
“Private rooms?”
It was only then I noticed the rest of the space, beyond the woman going down on the man who continued to stare at us. The wall opposite the doorway we’d come through was lined with black doors, which were decorated with brass numbers, and all were ajar.
He followed my gaze. “Looks like no one’s using them right now.” He took a sip of his Manhattan, and then used his glass to point to the archway on the right. “We’re heading that way.”
I peeked into one of the private rooms along the way, finding it kind of underwhelming. All that was inside was a full-size couch and a love seat that had been arranged like a sectional in the narrow space.