Page 12 of Forbidden Mistress

The dance floor is well occupied, and above, holograms of couples in sexy embraces undulate against each other. Real life, scantily clad and masked go-go dancers, like Las Vegas showgirls, dance on caged, elevated platforms all around the dance floor.

Haley and I glance at each other, and I mouth the words, “What is this place?”

I swallow and reach out for Haley’s hand. She threads her fingers through mine and squeezes. It’s the only indication that she’s just as nervous as I am.

Ms. Lawrence stands at the threshold of this new place and extends her arm. “Welcome to Obscura.”

I hesitate, aware, somehow, that there’s no turning back. The papers are signed.

“What is this place?” I ask Ms. Lawrence.

“Come and see for yourself,” she says. “Your host is waiting for you.”

Chapter 5

Obscura

I study the sprawl of flesh all around me. What the fuck have we walked into?

Holy shit. I feel a bit like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. I laugh at myself and that cliché thought, but in this instance, it’s 100 percent accurate. If anyone we encounter asks us to eat a mushroom, or invites me to tea, we’re out of here.

I spare a glance at Haley, and she just shrugs at me from behind her mask. She doesn’t look freaked out, which bolsters me a little. With a nod, I let go of Haley’s hand and continue to follow Ms. Lawrence up the stairs, and that’s when the real adventure begins.

Up here, people are barely clothed. The live music echoes off the walls. It looks like some kind of high-end brothel.

“Um, excuse me?” I say. When Ms. Lawrence stops and turns around to face Haley and me, I continue, “Where will I be stationed?” She’d said something about a VIP room.

“Your host is just this way,” she repeats, extending her arm, indicating a long, dark hallway.

Haley comes up behind me and whispers in my ear, “I think this is the part of the movie where we get murdered.”

“Yeah, I’m getting the murder vibe, too,” I reply, never taking my eyes off Ms. Lawrence.

Ms. Lawrence leads us up yet another staircase, her hips swaying gracefully with every step. A concierge waits at the top. Ms. Lawrence stops and turns to back to us. “Only members, employees and invited guests are allowed past this point.” Her gaze shifts to me. “C, your host’s room is beyond this hallway. But I will need to escort your friend back to the bar, as I mentioned before.”

Haley nods, prepared for this. “Sure, yes. And thanks for the free drink coupons.”

I glance at the area beyond the stairs. It’s dark, but I can see a few people milling about. Nervousness congeals in my belly. What should I expect from this new and unusually high-paying job? I’m confident with the boundaries clearly set, as they’ve been listed by Ms. Lawrence.

I have to admit that I’m nearly ready to call this whole thing off and head back home when Ms. Lawrence speaks up. “You’re perfectly safe. And I’m always here to always back you up.”

There’s a confidence in her voice that sets me at ease. I can’t help but think about that money, too. It’s more than tempting—it’s essential. This place does look well-managed with plenty of staff walking around. If there’s ever a point where I feel unsafe, then I’ll just bail, as Ms. Lawrence reassured me I can.

I nod. “Okay.” I turn to Haley. “How long do you think you’ll stick around?”

Haley smiles. “I’ve got you. I can stay ‘til you’re done. Go. Have fun and make the big bucks.”

I laugh. “Thanks. I’ll try.”

Without waiting for Ms. Lawrence, Haley turns on her heel and heads back downstairs on her own. I watch as she disappears, then I turn back to Ms. Lawrence, swallowing the anxiety creeping up my throat.

She smiles at me. “Right this way, C.”

We pass the concierge station at the top of the stairs and head into a central seating area. Everything is classic luxury—rich velvet, and satin wallpaper, and dim lighting, dark suede furniture.

But juxtaposed with the elegance is a raw, sinful quality. Exhibit A—a woman walks by us wearing nothing but a collar and leash around her neck. It’s so unexpected that I do a double-take. I’m not a prude by any means, but some warning would be cool, you know? Just a quick “Hey, you might see some naked people with collars on” would suffice.

Ms. Lawrence leads me down a dark hallway. Every door is shut, but I can hear some of what is happening within each room. A moan of pleasure. The lashing sounds of someone being whipped or paddled. Grunts. And the sound of skin slapping against skin.

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