Page 79 of Stealing Home

A growl rumbles in my chest. I spin her around and use my thigh to grind against her pussy under the guise of dancing. Her breathing speeds up, and she presses down harder seeking release, but before she finds it, I hold her still.

Fisting her hair, I make her look up at me. “Your pleasure is mine to control.”

“Please,” she begs.

Her full mouth pouts when I don’t let her resume moving against me. I can’t resist and swoop down to devour her. This isn’t a slow and sweet pressing of our lips, but a demonstration of all the ways I plan to own her body and soul as soon as we don’t have an audience. Not that I notice anyone else. Even the music fades away the longer my lips move against hers.

A throat clearing nearby breaks the spell, and we finally pull apart. I look for the person who interrupted us, mostly to make sure it isn’t someone we know. The man seems both amused and out of place in the club full of people in their twenties and early thirties. He’s wearing an expensive suit, probably custom Italian, and leather loafers. If I had to guess his age, I’d say he is in his mid forties, but then again Griffin and Charlie are both fifty-two and look a decade younger to me.

“I didn’t mean to spoil your fun, but there are better locations for the kind of show the two of you were starting to put on,” he says with a hint of laughter in his voice.

Harlow’s cheeks burn red, and she buries her face against my chest. “Oh my god,” she mumbles into the fabric of my shirt.

He holds his hands up in front of him. “I didn’t want to embarrass you. There’s a lower level for special invited guests where people are a lot more free with their affections if you’re interested in checking it out. I’m Roman Knox, I own the club, so I can show you if you’re curious.”

That makes Harlow look at him. Her mouth falls open in an “O” before she regains her composure. “Is this a sex club?”

He tips his head to the side. “Eh, there’s a section of the club where people may choose to engage in a variety of physical activities. There are only a few rules. The biggest is that everything must be consensual. There’s no touching others without asking and getting permission.”

I’m about to speak up and turn him down, when I notice Harlow’s flushed face and the way she’s biting her bottom lip. With my index finger under her chin, I tip her face up to mine. “Do you want to watch?”

She tries to look away from me, but I cradle her jaw in my hand and hold her steady. “I don’t want you to agree because you think I want to go. Be honest with me, I won’t judge, do you want to watch?”

“Yes,” she says so softly I have to read her lips.

Roman smiles and turns without another word expecting us to follow him. We weave in and out of the crowd until we come to a split staircase manned by two bouncers. Roman speaks to one, who nods at whatever he says.

“This is where I leave you,” Roman says. “You two enjoy yourself.”

He climbs up the stairs, presumably to his office. Once he’s gone the bouncer guarding the staircase to the lower level retracts a metal gate, granting us access.

The first thing I notice is that the music is quieter and more sultry. There’s seating of different varieties scattered around a small dance floor. There’s a bar along one wall with a sign that clearly alerts there’s a two drink limit.

“Do you want a drink?” I ask her.

Harlow shakes her head. “I hardly ever drink, but you can if you want.”

“I quit drinking months ago. After the way I handled my break up with Mara, I decided it was best if I didn’t continue going down that path. I don’t have a problem, but I started to understand how someone could easily develop one,” I explain.

“I’m pretty sure Nando has a problem. He might not be an alcoholic, but he’s a mean drunk when he does drink.”

Another song begins to play, and I lead her out onto the small dance floor in the middle of the room. This way we can take in the surroundings without looking like creepers. That was the plan at least, but the moment her body is pressed against mine again I forget about everyone else.

The slower tempo of the music lets me lead her in a more structured dance. It’s pretty symbolic of our relationship. She’s a little stiff when the music starts, but soon follows my lead without hesitation. Once the music changes, we find an empty booth tucked in a dark corner. There’s some privacy since it’s in the shadows, but you can see the entire floor from there.

Harlow sits close to me, giving me perfect access to slide my fingers up the inside of her thigh. “Look across the room. Do you see the love seat with two men sitting on either side of a woman?” I ask her.

“I see them,” she replies.

Her legs open a little wider, and I seize the chance to slip under the hem of her dress. My fingers tease the smooth skin close to the edge of her thong.

Across the room one of the men has his hand up the woman’s dress while she passionately kisses the other man.

“Do you like watching what they’re doing to her?” I whisper to her.

I don’t wait for her to answer before I stroke her mound over the lace of her underwear. Her mouth parts slightly with a small gasp.

“Answer me, Low,” I demand and start rubbing circles around her clit.

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