-2-
Grant
Julius led me into a narrow hallway where we were greeted by another hulking man in all black, wearing a fitted t-shirt and earpiece. He blended in, as the walls and ceiling were dark, and the lighting was low.
“Room two,” Julius said to the security guy then turned his head to glance at me over his shoulder. “Enjoy.”
He moved down the long hallway and turned right, disappearing up a staircase.
“Sir,” the man said, gesturing to the door at his side.
There were doors on both sides of the hall, but the ones I faced were decorated with a large brass number. My heart hummed along at the same quick pace it usually did right before a match. Anticipation and adrenaline coursed through me, bringing everything into clear focus.
I strode toward him, grabbed the doorknob, and pushed it open, ready for anything.
One step was as far as I made it before my brain turned to static.
There was a pedestal in the center of the room, and like everything else, it was black. Wait, no. Pedestal was the wrong word. It was more like a table with drawers underneath. The top of it was cushioned in leather. And on top of that was easily the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
A woman with soft pink lips, her blonde hair splashed out in a puddle around her as she lay on the cushioned tabletop, her arms extended and wrists bound by thick satin ribbon. The only thing she wore was a black blindfold, and I swallowed hard as my gaze roamed over all her naked, flawless skin.
Everywhere I looked, there was beauty. Above the table hung a chandelier draped in strings of crystals. There was a tall, white wingback chair in the back of the room, accentuating the lack of color. Even the forearm tattoo trailing up to the girl’s wrist was a deep black and paisley patterned.
But there was a bright punch of fiery red seated in the chair, and when my gaze landed on her, the redheaded woman stood. She looked to be the same age as I was, or perhaps older. Maybe even thirty. It was impossible to tell with some women. She was slender and elegant, and just as stunning as the rest of the room, but there was a magnetic force drawing my attention back to the table.
Was it because the redhead was clothed, or seemed to be aloof and cold? It didn’t matter. I couldn’t stop myself from focusing on the girl. Her tattoo was intricate art, and the shading around the scrolls gave them dimension. I wanted to run my fingers over the ink and see if it was raised.
“Welcome,” the redhead said. “Please, come in.”
Because I was still standing beside the door, awestruck. I shuffled forward like a big lug, and the door swung closed behind me with a thump.
Like the hallway, the walls and ceiling were black, but in here there was a pattern to it. A closer look revealed it wasn’t wallpaper, but textured tiles. Soundproofing?
“Don’t be shy,” the woman said. Her smile was warm, but her piercing stare evaluated me, and I glanced down for a moment to make sure I wasn’t as naked as the girl bound to the table.
There’d been so much competing for my focus when I first walked in, I hadn’t noticed the menu hanging on the wall. There it was—all the items the girl on the table was willing to perform if I was willing to buy a night with her. Heat poured down my spine and rushed uncomfortably south of my belt as I read the list.
It took a while because the list was long.
I wanted to do every filthy thing on it. Mark them off like I was completing a dirty, erotic scavenger hunt.
The sales assistant floated toward the center of the room, her heels clicking quietly across the floor. “I hear it’s your first visit.” She set her hands on the edge of the table and subtly leaned forward. Everything from her body language, her proximity to the gorgeous naked girl, and her tone was pure seduction. “What do you think of our place so far?”
I was thinking I was woefully underprepared for the evening but did my best to sound unaffected. “It’s nice.”
She smirked. “Hmm. Nice? I think we can do better than that.” Her head tipped down, and as she looked at the girl in front of her, her expression filled with desire. If it was an act, then bloody hell, she was amazing. It looked very real. It even felt real. Sex hung in the air, so thick it was all I could breathe in.
“Would you like a taste?” she said.
I dry swallowed. “What does that mean?”
She set her hand on the girl’s thigh, and as she smoothed her palm up toward the girl’s bare pussy, it squeezed air from lungs. Was she going to—
Yeah, she was. Fuck.
My eyes went wide, and I probably looked ridiculous. The redhead watched me the entire time she strummed her fingers between the blonde’s legs and pulled a soft moan from her. My knees softened, but my dick had a very different reaction.
“Just so you’re aware,” she drew her fingers away and sauntered toward me, “you’re not allowed to touch me. But I,” she lifted her two damp fingers and pressed them to my lips, “can touch you.”
The visual of her teasing the girl had been hot, but when her fingers slid into my mouth, I knew I was in serious trouble. The taste and smell invaded my senses, drugging me, and I closed my lips around her fingers like a starved man, so I’d get every last trace.
The sales assistant was diabolical, and her wicked smile said she knew it. Her fingers withdrew slowly, leaving a wet trail across my lips. She stepped back, her gaze flitting down to check the situation in my pants, then rising victoriously to meet mine.
“Looks like we’re getting upgraded from ‘nice.’” She strolled back to the table and leaned against it, casually folding her arms over her chest. It was a power move, one hundred percent. “You’re a big guy. I don’t know a lot about football, but you’ve got the build for it. What position did you play?”
Lust buzzed in my brain and fogged my thoughts, putting me on auto-response. “Prop.”
Shit. As soon as it was out, I wanted it back.
Confusion darted through her eyes, then vanished. Even if what she’d said was true, it was clear she knew that wasn’t a football position.
I needed to change my plan. The goal had been to get as much info as possible, but now I needed to focus on surviving this room and the smart sales assistant.
I motioned toward the silent blonde. “Is she not allowed to talk?”
“She’ll do whatever you want, sir, after we’ve reached an agreement.” The redhead straightened, and her demeanor changed to all-business. “Eight thousand.”
I flinched. Fuck, that was a lot of money. It came from me with an edge of horror. “No.”
Even if I had that kind of disposable cash, I wasn’t going to use it. When I had sex, the girl needed to be just as into me as I was her. Fun for everyone involved.
I’d swear the sales assistant could see right through me. Her head tilted a fraction of a degree, and her tone was flat. “Four.”
“No.” I put my hands up and took a step back. I’d seen the paperwork, talked to the owner, been inside the club, even started the negotiations to purchase. I had more than enough to start writing my exposé. . . right? “I made a mistake. I should go.”
Alarm visibly coasted through her as she stiffened. “Just wait a minute. Talk to me. What’s the issue?” She ran her hands down the sides of her skirt as if readjusting. She was probably searching for a new angle. “I know it’s not the girl. You like her. You’ve barely looked anywhere else.”
Was that true? “No, she’s beautiful, but I—”
“It’s okay. There’s no need to be nervous.” A sweet, surprised smile curled on the redhead’s lips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were shy.”
I pulled my chin back. “I’m not.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “But if you were, that’s absolutely fine. If you’re worried about her not wanting to—”
“I’m not shy.” No one had ever accused me of that.
“All right.” The redhead blinked her evaluating stare. “Then, touch her.”
Years of competition, and I’d never turned down a challenge. This woman had played it perfectly and gotten me to walk right into her trap.
I drew in a deep breath. “Where?”
She shrugged. “Wherever you’d like.”
If I turned the offer down, it would look incredibly suspicious. What guy in his right mind would pass it up? Confusion coiled in my brain as my desire to be smart and walk away fought against the instinct to never back down.
One touch. I could do this and prove I wasn’t bluffing, and then decline to negotiate.
I pulled my shoulders back and puffed up my chest as I strode to the side of the table. The redhead’s blue eyes sharpened as she watched me lift a hand and gently set it on the blonde’s ankle.
It wasn’t warm in the room, but I began to sweat anyway. The second I made contact, the girl gulped a breath, and the sexy, startled sound shot straight to my dick. The redhead’s relentless stare egged me on. She’d told me I could touch the girl anywhere, and she silently challenged me to do more.
I smoothed my palm along the length of the girl’s calf, sliding up to her knee. Her skin was silk, and I faltered when her leg shifted ever so slightly, moving to encourage. The logic in me knew it was an act, like how a stripper plays up she’s interested in whatever guy she’s dancing for. I knew the only thing this girl was into was the money in my bank account, and yet . . . I wanted to believe she liked the way my hand felt on her skin.
The desire for her was strong enough, it convinced me she wanted more.
I inched my hand along, dragging it up her perfectly toned thigh, while the redhead looked pleased. My breathing picked up, matching the girl’s on the table. Her breasts rose and fell with each deep breath she took.
Tension pulled taut between us until it was razor sharp. My palm rested on the top of her warm thigh, my fingertips only an inch from her pussy. The sales assistant arched an eyebrow, one that said, “Go on, then.”
I already knew what the girl tasted like. I wanted to know how she’d feel. Would she shift away from my touch? Would she spread wider and welcome it? I’d always been curious to a fault, and this time was no different. I trailed my fingers down, skimming them between her thighs.
She let out a breathy sigh and her back arched, shoving her breasts toward the ceiling. Her reaction was like I’d shocked her, but with a jolt of pleasure. It’s an act, I repeated endlessly, but no matter how many times I said it, I couldn’t convince myself of the truth.
She was hot and damp. One tiny circle of my fingertips on her clit, and she reached her hands back further, gripping the ribbon restraining her. It was as if she needed something to hold onto.
I did it again.
“Fifteen hundred,” the redhead whispered.
I froze, and my attention flew back to the sales assistant. Since the moment I’d come into this room, she’d been controlled and confident, but a strange expression was fixed on her face now. Unease?
“You should be aware,” she continued, “I’ve never made an offer that low. And I doubt she’s ever accepted one, either. She’s worth a hell of a lot more.” There it was again, the admiration in her tone. She frowned for a split second before her expression firmed up. “What I’m saying is, this is a limited time deal. I recommend you take it before I change my mind.”
Was this a sales tactic, or was she genuine? Her posture was straight and uncomfortable, and I got the sense she was off-balance and overcompensating.
Fifteen hundred, she’d said.
I had more than that set aside for plane tickets to visit my family in Johannesburg. It was a trip I’d been putting off for almost two years. Once Morgan had moved in with me, I’d thought I’d take her and introduce her to my parents, but—no. In hindsight, it was good we hadn’t gone. I saw now how Morgan embodied the vain, rude American culture my South African family despised.
At the rate I was going, it could easily be another two years before I got serious about the trip, and in the meantime, that money was just sitting there . . .
Was I insane? Why the fuck was I even considering this?
I yanked my hand off the girl. I wasn’t a real customer, so I had no right to touch her. I should turn and walk away, and yet, I couldn’t get my feet to move.
“You look like you could use a drink,” the redhead piped up.
“Yeah.” I stared at the floor, confused. I considered buying an evening with this beautiful girl, and guilt swam in my head. It was wrong. Illegal. Which only made me more curious to try it.
“What’s your drink?” the sales assistant asked. “Scotch? Whiskey?”
“Whiskey.”
She touched a hand to her ear, activating the low-profile earpiece I hadn’t noticed until now. “Can I get a glass of whiskey to room two?” Her gaze focused on me. “Straight, or on the rocks?”
“Rocks,” I croaked out, and the redhead relayed it into her earpiece.
It was harder for me to leave now that I’d ordered a drink, but my mouth was a desert. Each second I stayed in the room, the longer my subconscious had to plead its case it’d be okay to go through with this. The sales assistant had said the girl on the table would do whatever I wanted, including talking, after we’d reached a deal. So, I could look at this as an expensive paid interview.
I didn’t have to do anything more with her than what I’d already done.
Although a part of me wanted that very much.
My thoughts were so distracting, it didn’t register my drink had arrived until it was cold in my hand. I swallowed a huge gulp while the redhead’s expectant gaze seared into me. She wanted an answer to her offer.
“Fifteen hundred,” I announced between sips. “All right.”