Page 128 of The Winslow Brothers

Jude chuckles. “Babe, it’s not always what’s on the outside, but what’s on theinside.”

He takes my hand and steps up to the windowless door. Two hard knocks and another four rhythmic, smaller ones sound from his knuckles as they rap against the steel.

Ten seconds later, the hinges screech as the door slides open just enough to reveal a man in a black shirt with a shaved head standing behind it.

“Password,” he demands, and Jude doesn’t waver.

“Eleanor Roosevelt’s G-string.”

I blink. I’m sorry…What did he just say?

To my utter surprise, the door opens farther, and the bald guy gestures for us to walk inside.

Once we step into a darkened entryway, the man shuts the big steel door with a slam that startles me enough that I jump. Jude squeezes my hand for reassurance.

“The rules are simple,” the bald guy states firmly and crosses his arms below his beefy chest. “Anything that happens has to be consensual. And if it’s consensual, then anything goes.”

Consensual? As insex?

My eyes jolt to Jude’s face, but he only offers a wink and another encouraging squeeze of my hand.

“Have fun.”

Those are the last two words out of bald dude’s mouth right before he opens another door and Jude is whisking me inside and down a long hallway with strip lighting guiding our path.

We walk through another two doors, and then we come face-to-face with the mother lode, and my brain just about wants to explode out of my skull when I take in my surroundings.

Oh. My. God.

I’m rapidly reminded of the underground spot we went to after the Raines Law Room, only this place iswaydifferent. More refined and opulent, butintense. And far more obvious in what is supposed to happen beneath the shadows of the dim lights and between the gold-embossed and velvet-curtained walls.

I say this because the first people I lay eyes on are not at all being discreet about the sex they’re having in a private but visible booth that sits to the side of a bar where two women are tongue-kissing each other in front of their glasses of wine.

My ears note the soft, sultry music that adds to the ambiance, but my eyes are still busy trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. My gaze is more of a shocked gape than anything else, and it’s being yanked and tugged around the room like a yo-yo on a string.

People kissing. Touching.Having sex.Some are dressed. Some are half dressed. And some are completely naked. But all appear to be single-minded in their goal of pleasure.

“Baby, welcome to therealSecret Club,” Jude breathes hotly into my ear. “Hardly anyone knows about its existence, and the ones that do, come here to experience their deepest, hottest fantasies.”

“Is this a…a…sex club?” I whisper and have to gulp down the shock once my ears actually hear the last two words leave my body.

“One of the most prestigious underground sex clubs out there.”

“W-what exactly are we going to do here?” I ask, even though that might sound like the dumbest question on the planet. Obviously, we’re supposed to have sex.Duh.

But the real question I’m trying to ask is…are we going to have sex in front of other people?

“Think about it, babe.” He brushes his hand down my arm and rests it on my hip. “Fucking in a restaurant? Fingering you on a roller coaster? You giving me oral on an elevator?You and I, we have some serious exhibitionist tendencies. And we’re here to explore them further.”

I don’t have a response to that, but all I can think is,but no one knew we were doing those things. It was our secret.

Jude presses his hand to my lower back and guides me down a corridor, stopping right in front of a wall that is made from clear glass and looks directly into a room that is set up like a normal, sophisticated bedroom. On one wall, a giant king-sized bed is covered in pillows and a thick white comforter that looks cozy to sleep beneath.

There’re framed photos hanging on the wall. A nightstand with a lamp that even has a phone charging cord hanging off it. A desk in the far corner with a leather-bound notebook, a gold pen, and a potted green plant sitting on top. And a long, tall bookshelf filled with all sorts of hardback books.

It’s actually a really nice, normal bedroom. But again, it’s in the middle of a secret sex club with a translucent wall soanyonecan look inside.

“This is our bedroom for the night,” he whispers into my ear. “To do what we want, to fulfill our deepest fantasies. And to let anyone who wants to see it, watch from right here.”

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