Page 39 of Saviors

“I can’t stay here forever.” My lip twitched as she headed outside. I hated myself a little for watching her ass sway in her jeans. But she was so fucking perfect.

Reid grasped Maverick’s shoulder as he moved to follow. “She stays at Eros. We don’t let her get involved in anything else. It’ll only be bad for her.”

His words were like ice to the desire in my veins. Even if she did want us, it wouldn’t be for who we really were, because we could never tell her that. It would put her at risk.

“Yeah.” We agreed.

As we followed her, I wondered if she would’ve been better off with her parents. My gut tightened. My whole body rejected the idea of letting her go.

21

Violet

Itugged on the silky fabric, trying to pull the hem past mid thigh. But as soon as I let go, it slid back up again.

“Sorry, it’s so short.” I met Ivette’s gaze in the mirror. Her mouth tipped into an apologetic smile.

“It’s fine.” Eros had a dress code and since I didn’t have any nice clothes, Ivette had let me borrow something.

The sleeveless dress was a deep burgundy color that made my green eyes pop. It was intended to be form fitting, but Ivette was curvier than me. I was also several inches taller, so an outfit that looked sexy and professional on her was scandalous on me.

Or maybe I just didn’t feel comfortable wearing anything but oversized sweatshirts. I glanced at Ivette, who wore a pretty dress and high heels. The color showed off the beautiful tones of her skin. Her thick, curly hair fell around her shoulders. She was gorgeous. Even the heart-shaped birthmark below her left eye added to her beauty.

She looked strong and confident. Something I’d never feel again.

“I’ll buy some stuff for you to leave here.” She said, typing a note into her phone.

“No. I don’t h-.”

“It’ll be on the guys.” She grasped my hand, squeezing. “I promise; it’s okay.”

My stomach twisted. I hated being more in their debt, but what choice did I have? “Thanks.”

“Let’s go.” She led me out of the private bathroom and back through the club.

My gut tightened as low sensual music reached my ears. The room was dimly lit, casting most of it in shadows. Black leather booths lined the walls, except for the one to my left where the bar was. There was a stage in the middle which currently had two women and a man half dressed as they kissed. But it wasn’t a chaste display of affection.

It was raw. Carnal. The couples in the booths watched; all of them engaged in various activities. Some were just talking while others were doing some touching and kissing of their own.

There were also single people milling around; no doubt searching for a partner for the night. Everyone was dressed in cocktail attire. Suits. Dresses. Heels. Expensive watches and styled hair. Though the clothes were more revealing than you’d see at a dinner party or charity gala, but no less extravagant.

This wasn’t a trashy place. Everything about it screamed class. Exclusive. Rich.

Still, my limbs tightened as I followed Ivette through the crowd. My breaths became shallow as I felt eyes on me. But I didn’t look. Didn’t engage as if that would protect me.

I jumped when a hand brushed my wrist. My heart rate slowed again when I realized it was only Ivette.

“Don’t worry. No one will touch you.” She said as we slid into bar stools next to each other.

We gave our drink order; non alcoholic for both of us since she was working, and I wasn’t comfortable drinking in a place full of men who had sex on their minds. My eyes never left the bartender as he made it. I assumed he’d been vetted to work here, but I couldn’t risk it. I still remembered the feeling of losing control over my body and mind.

“How do you know?” I snuck glances around the room. How could she be certain nobody would harm me here?

“First, there’s a screening process. Every member is thoroughly researched before we let them in. Also, you’re not wearing a bracelet. It indicates your kinks and consent. Not having one says you’re off limits. Most people won’t even talk to you. They’ll assume you’re in a relationship.”

As she told me more about the system, I noticed the colored bracelets. My anxiety started to ease as I watched men look at my wrist, then turn away. They seemed to accept the rules without question.

“You don’t have a bracelet either. Does that mean you have someone?”

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