Page 40 of Serving the Mogul

What do I wear?

A leather catsuit and stilettos were not happening.

Wear what makes you comfortable.

I winced. I was most comfortable in a pair of running tights and a sports bra. Or jeans, boots, and a t-shirt.

Little black dress comfortable, I assume?

He replied immediately.

If that’s what you want to wear, that’s fine.

He sure as hell wasn’t making any of this easier.

I went into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge. After pouring an enormous glass, I picked out a book from my shelves.

A book, a hot bath, and a glass of wine were in order.

Maybe, just maybe, I could get myself under control so I could sleep.

* * *

The way Maximus’seyes heated when he saw my dress made me glad I had gone shopping.

For that dress, I would eat ramen and eggs all week if necessary. Seeing the intensity in Maximus’s eyes made it worthwhile.

“You look stunning,” he murmured, eyes roaming over me before returning to mine.

“Thank you.” The dress was black and sleeveless. It gave the impression of being strapless but wasn’t—the collar connected to the sweetheart neckline by a series of skinny straps in front and back. The bodice skimmed my curves without being tight, ending a few inches above my knees. Strappy black heels finished the outfit. I kept my hair short but had spent an extra twenty minutes styling it to make it look more tousled, and the black-beaded wire earrings I wore, combined with a black accent bracelet, were the only accessories.

Nothing about the outfit screamed I’m going to a kinky club, but I didn’t think I’d stand out because of my clothes either.

“Are you nervous?” Maximus asked softly.

“Ah…it’s better if you don’t ask,” I told him.

“Why?”

“If I answer, I’ll either have to lie or be honest, which will only make matters worse.” I had a hundred butterflies dancing in my belly.

“If you become uncomfortable, tell me,” he said, cupping my cheek. “We’ll leave.”

Then he kissed me, a sweet, almost gentle brush of his lips against mine that left my knees feeling weak.

The club had a simple plaque on the door as a sign. If I hadn’t been looking for a sign of what he led me into, I’d have missed it.

The plaque said The Black Star.

My heart raced harder as Maximus swiped a card in front of the card reader.

Maximus glanced at me as he tucked the card away, and I smiled as the doors in front of us swung open.

The expected wave of music rolled out, although muffled. I saw why as we stepped into a small antechamber—there was yet another set of doors, far more innate, and blocked by a bouncer, dressed in a well-fitting black suit. He gave Maximus a friendly smile.

“Mr. Maximus. I hope you’re doing well tonight.” The security guard stepped to the side. “Enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you, Lee. Have a good night.” They shook hands, and I suspected that money slipped from Maximus to the guard.

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