Page 23 of Reckless King

“You know what kind of club you’re in, right? I can guarantee there’s plenty ofstuffhappening.”

She sucks in a breath, her big blue eyes meeting mine, then darting away again. “I’m not sure I want to see it.”

Her uncertainty makes my chest pinch. This woman is such a fucking contradiction, going from fiery to vulnerable in the blink of an eye.

I step toward her, take her chin between my thumb and forefinger and tip her face up to mine. “These people are here enjoying themselves, just like you did last weekend.”

She bites her bottom lip and looks away again. No doubt because I’ve reminded her of what we did together.

I use my thumb to gently tug her lip from between her teeth. “The guests here aren’t ashamed of what they’re doing, just like you shouldn’t be ashamed of what we did.” I study her, trying to read her expression under the mask. The anger she was exuding before has been temporarily muted, replaced by nervousness and embarrassment. “We’re going to walk down these corridors. You can look or you can stay focused on me. It’s completely up to you. Okay?”

After another brief hesitation, she nods. I’m still holding her hand, and when I start forward again, she comes with me, walking close by my side. Even though she doesn’t particularly like me, she trusts me enough to do this, and that thought warms me in a way I don’t want to examine too closely.

Unlike Violet, I’m familiar with this area, so I don’t bother looking into the rooms we pass. I only care about finding privacy so that I can explain why I showed up tonight. Thoughconsidering I was determined not to, I’m not 100 percent sure I know the answer to that question myself. Except that when I was sitting at home in my penthouse, drinking whiskey and staring out at the lights of New York spread out beneath me, I couldn’t get the vision of her here without me out of my head.

I imagined her searching for me, then eventually giving up and letting another man—or god fucking forbid, multiple men—touch her, give her pleasure, hear her gasps and feel her come apart for them.

Before I knew it, I was out of my seat and grabbing the mask I’d held on to from last week.

And yeah, that makes me an asshole, because despite what Violet might think, I don’t intend to take any of those things for myself. I just don’t want anyone else taking them either.

The sounds of moans saturate the hallways we walk down, interspersed with the occasional loud cry of pain or pleasure—or both. The distinctive sounds of slapping flesh, or the sharp crack of a paddle or cane, emanate from a few of the rooms we pass. People are gathered outside the rooms that haven’t been screened for privacy, watching the activities. I can’t help but glance over my shoulder at Violet, to see whether she’s letting herself look. Sure enough, her eyes are wide and fixed on what’s taking place behind the window we’re passing—a fully dressed man pleasuring a naked woman with a magic wand while she’s strapped down, helpless to do anything to resist him.

My hand tightens around Violet’s as the image morphs in my head until it’s her strapped down, and me wielding the toy, making her come over and over again until she begs me to fill her with my cock.

Lust hits me like a punch to the gut. With a deep breath, I force it down. That’s not what I should be thinking about when it comes to Violet. And it’s certainly not what she wants from me.

When she faces forward again, she ducks her chin, making it impossible for me to read her expression. And the mask she’s wearing means I can’t tell if her cheeks are flushed. If this situation were different, if I wasn’t the man she can’t stand, and she wasn’t Mark’s little sister, I’d press her up against the wall, slide my hand into her panties and check for myself whether what she’d witnessed had turned her on. If things were different, maybe I’d take her to another room and do exactly the same thing to her.

Except in that little fantasy, I wouldn’t allow anyone to watch. No. I’d keep that experience all to myself. Not that it matters, because it’ll never happen. I just have to convince my dick about that before Violet sees the bulge it’s making in my pants.

With the turn of a corner, we approach the room I’m after. Compared to the others in the club, it’s plain. That fact is why it’s not used as often. I lead her in but don’t close the door behind us. Not yet.

She takes several steps inside, her head turning as she examines the space. Her focus is quickly stolen by the enormous bed. The heavy wooden headboard and footboard are studded with metal bolts that can be used for tie points. But that’s about it. It’s probably Onyx’s least kinky room, making it the most suitable for our conversation.

I flick the switch next to the long window facing the corridor, rendering the smart glass opaque for privacy, then turn to Violet. “We’ll need to close the door if we want to take our masks off.” It’s her choice. If she’s more comfortable with the door left open, we’ll keep our masks on. But I’d rather be face to face for this conversation. And this particular mask won’t do me any favors when it comes to convincing her I’m innocent either.

Not that innocent is a word that’s often used to describe me. But in this case, at least, it’s true.

To my relief, Violet nods and turns to close the door herself. Once it clicks shut, I pull the mask off over my head. For a moment, she only examines me from across the room, but finally, she removes hers as well.

Her hair is tousled, and her cheeks are pink. Maybe because of the mask or maybe in response to what we just walked past. Or it could be due to this situation she’s found herself in. Regardless, she looks as sexy as hell standing in front of me in her shimmery blue dress. Her chin is angled up to meet my gaze, exposing the smooth column of her throat and the deep V of her cleavage. I’m suddenly having trouble remembering why I shouldn’t lay her down in the bed next to us and make her feel good all over again.

I’m reminded soon enough. She glances away, rakes her fingers through her hair, then crosses her arms, her butterfly mask dangling from her fingers. “Explain, please.”

I toss my own mask onto the bed and rub a hand over the back of my neck. “I was here last week because I’m co-owner of this club. My business partner and I were talking at the bar when I saw you come in. And the honest to god truth is, I didn’t know who you were then. Just like you didn’t know who I was. It’s been years since we’ve seen each other, and even before that, you only visited Mark a few times each year. It’s hardly a surprise that with these masks on, in this place, neither of us recognized the other.”

She tilts her head, silently assessing me.

“No matter what you think of me personally, Violet, I wouldn’t lie about that.”

She nods, almost reluctantly, but still doesn’t speak.

“When Mark invited me to have lunch at your shop,” I continue, “all I thought was that it would be good to see you again.”

That has her brows arching up. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” I search for the words to explain my anticipation. “To see how you were doing? To see whether you still disliked me as much as you did back then? Believe it or not, I always enjoyed your visits.”

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