Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 103124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Seductive music throbs around me, tingling against my skin as we make our way down a long hallway toward the back of the club. The deeper we go, the more I feel like I am being pulled into a heady new world.
I can’t explain it, but I feel my walls begin to drop with every beat of the music. With every throb of the bass. I feel the fever building inside me and awakening something new and exciting.
We follow Ginger through the shadows toward the rear of the club where the peep rooms are located. Each room is accessed through a glossy red door that leads into the small but comfortable viewing area. It’s dark in here, the only light being a small lantern on the table.
In front of us is a window of dark glass. Music filters in through speakers on the walls and in the ceiling, erotic and throbbing with sensual melodies and beats.
Ginger guides us to the small table and runs through the drinks ordering process, which is accessible through a button on the table.
She looks at the iPad in her hand. “I see you’ve selected a couple for your viewing pleasure.”
I have no idea what she’s talking about. But Nico nods, so I assume he arranged something earlier.
“Excellent choice,” she says, like he’s just ordered some chef special off the menu. “Can I get you some drinks before the show starts?”
“Yes, I’ll have Jameson. Bring me the bottle. And…?” He looks at me.
“Champagne,” I say. “Please.”
“A bottle of Le Fleur De Tit.” The name rolls off his tongue effortlessly.
Ginger smiles. “I’ll bring those right over.”
When she disappears, I lean forward. “What exactly is happening?”
“We’re in a peep room,” he explains casually.
“I know, but what happens in a peep room? Will someone dance for us?”
“Among other things,” he says cryptically.
“Like?”
“Whatever turns you on.”
My eyes widen. “You mean, like sex?”
He smiles wickedly. “I like that sex was the first place your mind went.”
His lack of denial ignites panic in me.
I stand. “I’m not having sex with a stranger.”
Nico is unfazed by my explosive reaction and remains casually seated in his chair, his arm slung across the back of the one beside him. “Relax, tonight is about watching.”
“Watching what?” My eyes widen as I realize the purpose of this room. This club. “You mean people have sex, and we can watch?”
“Yes.”
I feel way out of my depth. “People really do that?”
“Are you asking if people like to watch, or if people like being watched as they fuck?”
The way he says fuck—it’s like he is fucking the word with his own tongue, and it sends a bolt of excitement running up my spine.
“Both,” I reply.
“Some people enjoy watching others while some people enjoy being watched. Lair caters to both desires.”
I ease back into my chair.
“We’re going to watch people have sex?” I ask with a whisper.
“Only if you want to,” he says calmly.
His response ignites erotic images in my mind, and I feel the heat of them sing in my blood. I don’t know what to expect, but I know I’m intrigued. Voyeurism isn’t really my thing.
Well, I don’t think it is.
But I’m hardly running for the door.
“You enjoy watching?” I ask, breathlessly.
“When it comes to sex, I enjoy a lot of things, Bella.”
The connotation in his voice sends a dark, unfamiliar thrill through me.
Of course this man doesn’t do vanilla.
He drips vanilla in century-old scotch and sets light to it.
That primal part of me, the one that knows me better than I know myself, rises to her feet with piqued interest.
Ginger reappears with our drinks, and while she pours my champagne into a crystal flute, Nico fixes himself a scotch.
“Will there be anything else?” she asks him dutifully.
“No, that will be all for now.”
She leaves, and I sip my champagne nervously. I want to say something to ease my nerves, but I get distracted by the sudden rave party on my tongue. The champagne is delicious. No, it’s more than delicious. It’s like heaven and sunshine had a baby and called it La Fleur De Tit.
A moan escapes my lips before I can stop it, and Nico’s eyes dart to mine.
“This is amazing,” I say, taking another modest sip. I want to down the whole glass to calm my nerves, but champagne that tastes this good deserves to be savored.
Nico chuckles at my display of appreciation. His smile warm. His body relaxed. His eyes gleaming.
We lock gazes, and something hot and tense tingles in the air.
I can’t look away, and I know hell will freeze over before he does.
I open my mouth to say something to ease the strange tension building in the space between us, but the lights go up behind the dark glass and illuminate the couple on the other side.
Wearing nothing but a bra and panties, the woman is bound to the brick wall behind the bed where a headboard should be. Her wrists are encased in steel, her body tense as the man, wearing nothing but tight briefs, circles the bed predatorily. He’s holding two blood red silk scarves in one hand and winds them around the other as he stalks the outer edges of the room.