CHAPTER EIGHT

Shane

Her question wasn’t glib; it was genuinely curious. It was a good thing I was seated as her simply mentioning an orgasm got me hard. “Yes.”

She smiled. “You’re like Robin Hood, then. Only instead of gold and coins to the poor and unfortunate, you’re giving orgasms.”

I threw my head back and laughed. “And I make a profit from it.”

She frowned, and I realized I’d inadvertently implied she should’ve paid for it. I was about to clarify, but she lobbed her next question.

“Mostly women sign up for these services?”

“Yes. But we have other services which are nonsexual.”

“Like what?”

“Sexual confidence counseling. We started it at Max’s suggestion, and it’s been really popular. However, we did have to fire the manager recently.”

“For what?”

“Pushing some of the guys who only did counseling into more physical aspects. Unfortunately, we lost a couple good employees. Some women need a place to go to ask questions and discover or regain their mojo. It should be up to the two of them whether to make it physical or not.”

“Is that why you did what you did in front of Eric? To help me regain my mojo?”

I swallowed hard, not wanting to analyze my motives or have her do so. “It pisses me off to have any woman told the problem is her. I especially didn’t like the way he did it.”

Our gazes locked until she finally looked away.

“I’ll look to see if losing some employees and their clientele could be some explanation for the loss of revenue.” She made a note. “And last night. The Christmas party. Is that a common thing to do?”

I was happy for the change in subject. “It was one of our VIP parties. On a typical night, we allow our VIPs to reserve those rooms for group play activities. These can range from private settings to the more public type that you witnessed.”

“People enjoy having sex while others watch?”

A smile curved my lips as I thought about Ms. Proper in front of a crowd. “Absolutely. Others enjoy finding new partners or adding a plus one. You’d be surprised how many couples come in looking for a third party, simply to spice things up.”

“Do you partake in these, uh, demonstrations?”

Although her question wasn’t meant to be judgmental, I found myself defensive. “Upon occasion, yes.”

But it wasn’t judgment in her eyes; it was a heavy dose of lust. Interesting. I’d long ago learned the signs of a woman aroused, and Ms. Daniella Trivioli was just that.

“What types of things do you do?”

My gaze laser focused on hers. “The dirty kind. I need to get back downstairs. Let me know if you have any questions on the receipts you’re going through.”

I abruptly got up. Daniella might not know it, but she was dangerous. She represented everything I didn’t want. Strings, rebound, vanilla. Those were only a few of the terms I bounced around in my head as I took the stairs down to the main level. Besides, she was here to do a job, which didn’t include fucking me—no matter how her eyes lit up at the possibility of me performing.

As I passed the bar, I motioned for Heather to follow me. Once we were alone, I made my request. “Tomorrow night. Eight o’clock, the large play room. Grab one of the other girls, too.”

Her face showed surprise, but I could tell she was excited. Too bad my enthusiasm was less about Heather and the other girl and more about fucking the thought of Ms. Pencil Skirt from my mind.