I got into this business because I didn’t know where else to turn.

I was lost.

I inherited money from my father when he passed.

I didn’t even know him.

I read recently in the Financial Times that seventy percent of people who come into a sudden windfall lose all of their money within two years.

It doesn’t matter if it is a small inheritance from a long-unseen uncle, or if they were an early investor into a business that is sold for a record price, or if the person is a lottery winner.

A big or small amount, that sudden windfall will be gone.

I promised my mother before she passed away that wouldn’t happen.

I invested the money wisely. I got involved in the Club before it was a magnet for the wealthy and powerful. Before I was buddies with them. Back when I was an associate in the District Attorney’s office. Ironically, I have more influence now than I had back then.

Guiding Avery by the hand, we enter the main ballroom. It’s decked out in silver and gold for the holiday; ivy and fresh eucalyptus tied with silver ribbons adorn the columns along the perimeter of the large space. A bar on the far right of the room is lit up with red and gold uplighting, and to the left, tucked into the corner, is a twelve-foot Christmas tree adorned with white lights and gold and silver oversized ornaments. A band on the stage across from the entrance of the room plays slow jazz music, the notes weaving through the air, setting the stage for a seductive night should our guests choose.

“There’s only one place I want to take you,” I say to Avery.

Adrenaline cruises through my body when she looks up at me. She is perfection, and she is here with me. Her lips draw up into a fuckable heart shape, and I die a little inside because she isn’t in my bed. But I want to show her a nice time first.

First.

Before I take her.

“I want to dance with you,” I say.

As promised, she quickly learns why the club has its namesake. The waitresses come through the space, weaving through the sparse crowd, wearing nothing but black lingerie. Their skin is on display. The male patrons and female patrons alike drink them in with their eyes. And they only look. There is no touching unless in one of the private rooms. Where the masks come off and all of it is on display.

Avery’s eyes glide through the room, taking in the sights, the curves on each of the waitresses. They are all beautiful, but none compare to Avery.

I put my hand out and she puts hers into mine elegantly, gracefully, as her eyes trail up to mine. Her lips are perfectly agape, the shape drawn up into a gorgeous cupid’s bow.

And my heart slams into my ribs.

“Look around,” I say. The music runs through the room, the darkness punctuated with laughter and the start, just the start, the bubbling up of a night of revelry. Of whatever is desired. “Do you like what you see?”

“Yes,” she breathes.

“That’s the only word I want to hear from you. Do you understand me? I only want to hear yes. I want you to want what I will give you. What is rightfully yours.”

“I understand.”

“Let me ask you another simple question, Avery. What do you want?”

“I…” she averts her eyes and I can feel her chest heave in front of me, the air between us becoming thick with her want. I can smell her, sense her pussy lips beading with desire, with the sticky honeyed nectar between her thighs.

“Let me make this easier for you, doll. You are still a bit shy, aren’t you?”

She swallows visibly, her graceful neck moving as she looks up at me.

“Yes,” she says directly.

“Do you like being here with me?”

Her lips pull up into a bright smile.

“Yes.”

She blushes, as though she can sense my knowledge of what she is becoming right before my eyes.

“And do you want to see what’s behind the doors? Behind the mask?”

“Yes,” she moans, softening under my touch as I bring her closer to me. Her sighs into my chest as I bring my fingertips to the back of her neck.

“You’ve never felt a man inside you, have you? You’ve never cum with a man sliding between your legs, opening you. That’s right, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

Her voice is just a whimper.

“And do you want to feel it, baby?” I glide my hands down her body, one caressing her face in a waterfall of tenderness, the other gliding down her arm. I give the top of her arm a squeeze. Not hard, but not soft, either. Just so that she knows she is mine. And for any stupid fuck looking at us who thinks they can touch her, so they know she is mine, too.

“I want it,” she whimpers. “I do want it.”

“Say the word, Avery.”

“Yes.”

“That’s our word now, baby. You say it, and I will keep going. I ask you if you like something, and you say yes. It’s so simple and it is ours.”

I slowly go in for a kiss, and the band slows their notes down as she and I rock to the music. Her curves make me feel like a blind man who has just been able to see again after a lifetime of nothing but darkness. And I can see them with just my hands. I pull away from her mouth, her taste still on my lips, like fucking sugar sweetness, and I can see the outline of her body in my mind as I graze my hands over her sweet, sinful curves.

“Come with me,” I say, taking her hand. We weave through the crowd of people, now becoming more dense. Her eyes glide softly at our surroundings as she takes it all in. Her eyes land on a couple in a corner, a stunning young woman and a slightly older, handsome man, on a couch tucked into the far corner of the room.

I can’t see his hand, but I can see her face twisted into a wanton expression of pleasure.

Avery’s breath hitches deep inside her throat at the sight.

“You’ve never seen anything like this before, I know,” I say, putting my hand on the back of her neck.

I guide her to a sweeping, spiral staircase behind the grand Christmas tree.

It is time. I have waited long enough. She has waited long enough. I can feel that she cannot wait any longer.

Avery, my sweet young beauty. It’s time to show me your skin.