Page 54 of The Bourbon Bargain

Heavy synthesized beats boom out of the speakers coming from the doors to the ballroom, the heart of the club, where we can see snatches of masked revelers who writhe and dance under the strobe lights and lasers. This whole thing feels like Ibiza and Dante’s Inferno got together for one fucked up night and created a monster of lust and torment.

“Your den of iniquity awaits,” Payton says over his shoulder, pulling open the doors all the way and throwing an arm into the air. A spotlight snaps onto us, and a roar goes up from the crowd inside.

I put a hand up to block the light from my eyes and feel Paige duck her face into my shoulder. “Cut it out, you asshole,” I bark at Payton.

A moment later the spotlight moves away, but it takes a few more seconds for my eyes to adjust. When they do, I see chunks of thick marble columns topped with stripper poles placed throughout the dancefloor at varying heights with burlesque dancers perched on them, feathers and fringe decorating their bodies as they undulate.

“There he is!” I turn toward the voice and catch Diego lifting his eye mask to his head, with two familiar men trailing behind him. “This is some party.”

I shake my head in annoyance. It’s a spectacle. I step to the side so Paige can meet the guys. “Paige, this is Diego, Javier, and Luca,” I say, indicating each. “They make up the senior vice presidents of their respective divisions at Olympus. Gentlemen, this is my beautiful wife, Paige.”

They each shake her hand in turn, leaning close to say their pleasantries over the music.

“Now that introductions are over, you have a job to do tonight, both of you,” Zander says, coming up behind me and Paige and clapping his hands on our shoulders. He forces us into the ballroom and over to a raised dais with an antique black velvet settee he moved in here from the lounge. “The best is yet to begin.”

twenty-eight

Paige

We’rejudgingacontest.A very wicked, very sexy contest.

Zander managed to find every appealing contortionist, dancer, and sleight-of-hand trickster this side of the Mississippi for his impromptu talent competition, and it is up to Hayes and me to decide if the performers pass muster.I think.

The contest began with groups of people performing all at once, and in lulls of the music, Zander holds his hands over various heads and we must provide our judgment via a thumbs up or down, Roman Emperor style. Now, we are down to a pair of dancers in leather straps and bits of cloth covering their private parts who move like water together, and a group of dancers in devil masks who break dance in a fashion that looks like they don’t have the limitation of joints or bones.

I’m quite amused by the whole thing, and as long as I’m having a good time, Hayes seems to be content to go along with his brother’s schemes.

“Who wins this round?” Zander hollers at us from the dancefloor, his hands over the two groups of dancers, chests heaving and waiting on us to crown a victor.

I look at Hayes, who gives me an indulgent smile. “I don’t think I can pick just one. Can’t we say they both win?”

“You can make anything you want happen, angel.”

I smile and hold out my arm, thumb cocked sideways and wait for Hayes to join me. I nod and we flip our thumbs up.

“They both win,” I shout at Zander, rising from my perch on Hayes’s lap to make myself heard. I stand and clap along with the roaring spectators as both groups take a bow and dance away into the crowd. I spot Alex off in a group, having found people to dance with while I judge, and I smile. He’s always been good at finding friends, whereas I haven’t. But I do have Hayes.

“Ready to dance now?” Hayes asks, standing behind me and pulling my behind back into his hips, grinding into me.

“Maybe not up here where we’re kind of on display, I’ll make a fool of myself,” I say, feeling self-conscious as the crowd looks on.

Hayes spins me in his arms, pulling me close to his chest as he drags his hand down my side and hitches my leg up to his hip in one fluid movement, the clingy skirt of my dress rising up my thighs. I gasp as he dips me backward and I throw up a hand to keep the crown from falling off my head. But Hayes isn’t done, much to the delight of the crowd around us who are catcalling and whistling as he guides my body around and back up to finish tight to his.

“Never let what anyone else thinks stop you from having the time of your life.”

“Easier said than done,” I say, my voice breathy with relief and a little thrilled by his maneuver. “See, I knew you could dance.”

His chuckle vibrates in the space between our chests.

The strobe lights and lasers flash with the return of the throbbing dance music, casting the dancefloor back into the maddened crush of bodies once more. Hayes steps off the dais and helps me down with a steady hand until I’m pressed tight against him again. In his crown made of jagged stones and his all-black suit, he truly looks like the king of the underworld. It’s easy to get caught up in the dramatics of this party Zander pulled together, which is a fascinating combination of a bachelor party and a debauched festival.

I can’t keep my eyes off the bodies that twine together, moving seamlessly and with unfettered passion both on the dancefloor and seen in glimpses in the alcoves that ring the ballroom, and I can’t help thinking about the crosses we passed on our way through the club. There were looks of pure joy from the people strapped spread eagle to the wood timbers being teased with leather lashes by their partners. I don’t know where anyone gets that kind of exhibitionism, but I admired their bravery and commitment to Zander’s vision. And I liked watching it. Hayes may be right; I might just have some voyeuristic tendencies after all.

Hayes walks us through the mass of people on the dancefloor to the edge of the crowd, and out of the ballroom where the music isn’t quite so loud. He leads me to the bar and gets another tumbler of bourbon, allowing me to sip it first, wiping the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip and following it with his mouth a moment later. His kiss holds an urgency I didn’t expect, and I get a feeling he’s as affected by this night as I am. I press up on my toes, letting my body slide along his as I meet the urgency.

A throat clearing next to my shoulder breaks our connection, our lips lingering for a moment before I break off from the kiss. I pull away and gasp when I find a face that has haunted me for the last few weeks. It’s Hayes’s old friend, Octavius Rex, leaning back against the bar and observing the floor at his feet while twirling a black mask between his hands.

He still gives me the creeps despite knowing he was following me because of my connection to Hayes. I don’t think he wants to hurt me—he had several opportunities to do so if that were the case—but he has a knack for turning up when I’m alone and freaking me out. Seeing him here tonight doesn’t feel safe, even when I’m still in the protective cocoon of Hayes’s arms. When he confronted us after the Christmas Eve dinner, I had a feeling he wanted something from Hayes, so that is where I think his actual focus is, rather than on me specifically.

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