“You can forget it,” Brayden said, giving me a side eye before flipping on his blinker to turn on to Fifth Street. Downtown was packed already, and his Jeep crawled to a stop behind the endless red glare of tail lights.

“Forget what?”

“You’ve got that look on your face. The one that says you’re about two seconds away from popping open that door and running for your life.”

“I do not.”

“Yeah, you fucking do. But you promised, Jesse, and I need this. We only graduate from college once, and once you start your internship, your social life is over.”

I sighed and looked out the window at the misty overcast that was perpetual in Westport, Washington. I almost hated that Brayden knew me so well, but more than that, I hated I ever let him talk me into going out tonight. I’d much rather have been at home, binging on Netflix shows and celebrating alone, but no. There would be no alone tonight—not where we were going. I tugged at the sleeve of the overpriced designer suit Brayden had lent me and tried to remind myself that it was only a few hours, and there was nothing I wouldn’t do for my best friend.

“Stop fidgeting. It’ll give us away,” he said, and then his lips tilted up. “Don’t overthink it. This is supposed to be fun. And when have I ever let you down when it comes to that three-letter word?”

“That’s what worries me,” I said, biting back a smile.

“I believe what you meant was ‘That’s what excites me. I’m totally gonna get off tonight, and I only have you to thank.’”

“Oh Jesus. I said I’d go, not that I’d participate.”

“The fuck is the fun in that?” Brayden slowed to a stop in front of an unmarked building, and put the car in park as a valet appeared. “A few drinks in and you’ll let someone jerk you off. You’re too tense, my man.” He squeezed my shoulder and then got out of the car as I reluctantly followed suit.

As we walked up to the nondescript front door, I could feel the nerves I’d managed to squash earlier resurface. Brayden hadn’t told me much about where we were headed tonight, except I could and should expect some crazy shit—and when it came to Brayden, that could mean anything.

The door was opened for us by a behemoth of a man who had a shaved head, a stern expression, and was dressed in a pristine suit that looked as though it cost more than my monthly rent—not that that was hard, considering the place I called home was a tiny studio in one of the less desirable neighborhoods. Unlike this particular neighborhood.

Once we were inside, the door shut firmly behind us, and Brayden, myself, and the behemoth were enclosed in a tight foyer area where a second man stood behind a desk. I told myself not to tug at the collar of my shirt, but the sudden claustrophobia that overtook me had a feeling of unease twisting in my gut.

I was a cautious guy by nature, but right then, being locked in these tight confines with two strangers who could wipe the floor with me if they deemed it worth their time made me slightly…jumpy.

“What did you say this place was called again?” I said under my breath to Brayden.

“The Wolfe’s Den.”

Yeah, okay, that didn’t help my nerves at all. “The Wolfe’s Den?”

“Right.” Brayden walked toward the front desk as though that should answer all my questions, but before he got too far, I grabbed his wrist and halted him. When he looked over his shoulder at me, I shuffled closer, not wanting to make a scene.

“This place is, you know, safe, right? Reputable?”

The sly curve of Brayden’s lips told me if that was what I was looking for, I’d definitely come to the wrong place. “It’s…both of those things. But probably not how you mean it.”

What the hell does that mean? I was about to ask when Brayden turned back and approached the desk. Without a word, he pulled out a stack of bills—shit, were those hundreds?—and handed it over. The man counted them out, and once the number hit ten, I couldn’t bear to look anymore. That was more than I’d made the entire year cleaning up coffee spills and panini crumbs at Lava Java, and even though I’d been friends with the guy long enough not to be shocked by his wealth, I still couldn’t get over the way he threw it around so mindlessly.

The man behind the desk nodded, apparently satisfied at the amount Brayden had given him, and then set a small square box on top of the desk. He didn’t say anything, but Brayden seemed to know what that meant, because he pulled out a long, antique-looking brass key from his pocket and inserted it into the box. As he turned it, there was a clicking sound and the box seemed to glow purple from within.

Immediately, the man behind the desk and the security guy that had followed us in had us surrounded, and I backed away and looked to Brayden for what had gone wrong. But he shook his head and smiled. “Relax. We’re good. We just have to hand over a few things before we can go in.”

“A few things like what?” I said, as the security guard began to pat me down, and then he pulled out my cell phone and wallet from my pocket. “Hey, wait—”

“You’ll get them back.” The man continued his search, patting down my pants legs and checking my ankles. When he was satisfied I wasn’t carrying a weapon, he stood up and put my belongings in a lockbox. Then he grabbed my hand and placed my index finger over a fingerprint scanner on top of it, and it flashed purple. “Only you can access this box,” he said, dropping my hand. “As long as you follow the rules.”

Rules? I didn’t even know where the hell we were, much less what the rules were. But Brayden didn’t seem worried, and after locking his own box with his fingerprint, the door leading inside swung open, and a beautiful woman with lips the color of a ripe cherry smiled at us.

“Gentlemen,” she said. “Welcome to the Wolfe’s Den.”

Something about the way she said it, with an air of danger, sent a shiver down my spine, but I followed Brayden through the door, and what I saw next nearly had me running back the other way.

It was the most elaborate place I’d ever been. Walls of deep purple velvet surrounded us on all sides, elegant chandeliers sparkled above us, and a mix of people of all ages mingled on black leather couches, on a small dance floor, and at the bar that took up one wall of the room.

I leaned in to whisper in Brayden’s ear, “I so don’t belong here.”

Brayden responded by throwing an arm around my shoulders. “Sure you do. Everyone’s here for the same reason.”

Pulling back, I looked at my friend warily. “And what’s that?”

Brayden’s eyes gleamed. “To have a very, very good time. Now, let’s get you loosened up,” he said, steering me toward the bar.

As he ordered us a couple of beers, I let my eyes roam over the room again. As nice as it was, I couldn’t imagine why Brayden would want to spend that kind of money to get in here. When he handed me the pilsner glass of amber liquid, I told him as much, and he laughed.

“Okay, so now that you’re here, I guess I’ll let you in on a little secret,” he said, and then leaned in to whisper, “We’ll be going down.”

“Down?”

“And I mean that in more ways than one.” He winked and took a sip of his drink. “See, it’s like dating. Right now we’re in the getting-to-know-you stage. A drink or two, scope out the scene, catch someone’s eye. Then we head down a level, and that’s where the fun starts. Maybe they’ll let you feel them up under their shirt. Hell, maybe the shirt comes off.”

My eyes grew wide. “What kind of place is this?”

“A place of fantasies coming true, my man. Any fantasy you want, Salvatore Wolfe can make it happen.”

“Who is that?”

“Fuckin’ hell, I think all that studying destroyed your social life. Salvatore Wolfe is only the richest, most powerful man in the city. Hell, he owns half of it. And fuck me, the man is hot. Like, ‘I’d shell out another few thousand to have him suck my cock’ hot.”

I jerked my head from side to side to see if anyone had heard him. “You mind keeping it down? I don’t think the other side of the room heard you.”

Brayden snorted. “I hope they heard me. That is why we’re here. You and me. Just sit back and enjoy the ride, my man.”

“Wait…you’re saying this is a…sex club?”

“Well, it ain’t Bible study,” he said, and then tossed back the rest of his drink.

I stared at him for about five seconds before I made to bolt, but Brayden was quicker and caught me by the arm.

“Jesse, come on,” he said, his expression turning sober. “I know this isn’t your kind of place, but you don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. No one’s gonna pressure you or force you into anything. Wolfe runs a tight ship here, and that’s why it’s so exclusive. We’ve got the freedom to do anything consensual, and I do mean anything. But if you just want to watch, then that’s cool too.”

I tried to process what he was telling me, and as I looked around the room again, that was when I saw it. Those people on couches weren’t just talking, and the ones on the dance floor were doing a lot more than dancing. Hands roamed over clothes and under, and one by one, I noticed people heading toward a corner exit that seemed to lead down.

Oh God. How did I end up here? I rubbed a hand over my face and then caught my reflection on the mirrored wall behind the bar. The guy standing there looking back at me was utterly naive, but outwardly he didn’t look that much different from the rest of the people at the bar or in the room. Can I do this? Can I turn off my insecurities for a few hours and let go?

“I know that look,” Brayden said, and I caught his eyes in the mirror as he looked at me. “You’re curious. I see it, so don’t even bother denying it.”

Staring back at my reflection, I dared myself to try. Then I swallowed the rest of my beer as a slow smile crept across Brayden’s mouth.

“All right,” I said, as the alcohol made its way through my veins. “Lead the way.”

* * *

“How many are we expecting tonight?” I looked across my desk to where Trinity, my club’s manager, stood clad in leather pants and a matching black corset with a clipboard in hand. It had just turned ten o’clock and the doors to the den had opened up for newbie night. Or as I liked to think of it, the night when all the little pups come to play at Salvatore Wolfe’s den.

“We have twenty-five new faces to keep an eye on, and the usual cast of characters.”

I sat back in my chair and reached down to pat the head of Faolán, my wolf dog and ever-loyal companion. “Basically, we have twenty-five new bodies to either corrupt or terrify, is what you’re saying.”

Trinity’s lips quirked up at the side as she tossed the clipboard on my desk. “If we’re doing our job right, then yes.”

I looked past her to the curved wall behind her made from glass, and watched as one patron after another entered the main floor of the den. We were currently in my office, which was a circular space located directly behind the bar, unbeknownst to my guests, which was just the way I liked it. Where they thought they were looking at a wall of mirrors, they were looking in at me, and I…well, I was most certainly watching them.

Trinity turned to look in the same direction, and as a chuckle left her, I got to my feet. “Is something amusing?” I asked as I walked around my desk.

“I was just thinking how this night is my favorite every month.”

“Oh?”

She turned to look up at me, my six-foot-five frame dwarfing even her six-foot stature, and she moved a strand of her short jet-black hair from her scarlet lips as she gave a slightly maniacal grin. “Of course. Don’t tell me you don’t get off on watching all these sweet things coming to your den, Wolfe. Others might buy it, but I know you too well.”

“Yes, but the difference is, I don’t touch.”

“Yes. Yes, I know. Which is another reason tonight is my favorite. The odds are in my favor with you out of the picture.” She looked back out the glass and indicated the main door with a tilt of her chin. “I can see Jade letting more in now, so I better head down to the second floor. You going to make an appearance tonight?”

I slipped my hands into the pockets of my Armani pants, still undecided. “Perhaps. I have a few phone calls to make. After that, I’ll see how my mood is.”

She winked at me and then slipped out the hidden back door, the one that led down a private staircase that accessed all floors of the club. Other than the two of us, no one else could enter, which meant I could come and go as I pleased without notice. Just the way I liked it.

Beside me, Faolán was still and alert, his yellow eyes trained on those on the other side of the bar. After punching in a number and hitting the speaker button, I reached down to pat Faolán’s head.

“There, there,” I murmured, my gaze roving over the fresh, eager faces grabbing drinks at the bar. “We’re not on the hunt tonight.”

The line had begun to ring for my liaison in Australia when Faolán let out a high-pitched whine and trotted over to the glass.

“What’s wrong, boy?” I said, as he paced back and forth, continuing to whimper. Hitting the end button before it could connect, I rose from the chair and went over to see what had gotten him so worked up. Kneeling down beside him, I rubbed beneath his chin as he focused on me again. “See something you like?” I asked, to which he let out a noise and looked back at the glass. I followed his gaze to two young men who’d just walked up to the bar, one dark-headed with a cocky arrogance only money could provide, and the other—

I sucked in a breath and got to my feet as my eyes landed on the guy’s friend. Tall and slim, with pale blond hair parted and slicked back, and looking not at all comfortable in the three-thousand-dollar suit he wore, the young man who’d caught the attention of Faolán had the face of an angel. While many of the new faces that walked through the doors on nights like this were young and inexperienced, the one standing only feet away from me now was different somehow. It was the innocence behind his crystal-blue eyes and the curiosity in his expression—not eager and ready for the night to unfold, but rather unaware of how he’d managed to end up there.

I took a step forward, closer to the window, closer to the man, and slowly angled my head to the side as I continued to look him over. I couldn’t stop the hungry way I took in every feature of his flawless face, from his high cheekbones to the pouty pink lips, and as I stood there in the silence of my soundproofed office, I was more than aware my fascination with the man went beyond the surface. Yes, he was exquisite in an understated way. But it was the striking resemblance he had to someone I knew long ago that had me itching to get closer—while at the same time backing the hell away.

I did neither of those things. Instead, I stood rooted to the spot, and it wasn’t until Faolán whined again and nudged at my fist that I realized I had balled my hands. My tension must have been radiating off me, and when the blond by the bar turned away from his friend and looked directly at the mirrors I was standing behind, I thought my knees would give out.

It was unbelievable. Like looking at a ghost. And as I took a step back, away from the temptation standing only feet away from me, the man turned to his friend, said something, and then they started to walk away.

As I watched them disappear into the crowd, I told myself to stay put. Nothing good would come of me going out there. Nothing good would come from me introducing myself to him…getting closer to him.

But even as my own words played over in my head, I was walking toward the hidden door with Faolán close at my heels, determined to get one more look at the young man who seemed to have risen from the dead.