Page 9 of Take the Sub and Run

“Andrei,” he said. “Agent Andrei Leonard.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Andrei.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss…”

“Vermeer. Sofie Vermeer.”

Andrei’s smile disappeared, his gaze once more predatory. “I see, you want to play it this way?”

“Playing what way?” she asked in genuine confusion.

There was a flicker of uncertainty in his gaze, his brows drawing together in a frown. Then he turned, stabbing the up button for the elevator.

The doors opened immediately, and he gestured for her to step in. Sofie wanted his hands on her and considered not moving, forcing him to guide her.

Her curiosity and a renewed sense of being on an adventure won out. The faster they got on that elevator, the faster she got to go upstairs and see a real BDSM club.

Smiling, Sofie stepped into the elevator.

They only went up one level, to the first floor, and when the doors opened, Sofie was disappointed.

Once again, it looked like what it had once been—an office building rather than a BDSM club.

At least at first glance.

The elevator shaft was in the middle of the building. Unlike the first floor where the elevator bank could be accessed from both sides, up here, they were forced to turn toward the back of the building upon exiting the elevator. The wide back wall of the building was solid windows, visible through the glass walls of the offices and conference rooms that lined it. The floor was concrete subfloor that bore marks from where carpet had once been glued down, and there was no furniture in the wide-open space between where they stood and the back wall.

A palette of wood and some neatly stacked tools and boxes made it clear this space was under construction, and that same pile was what partially obscured her view of the corner of the building.

Sofie took a few steps, her heels loud on the concrete floor, the sound bouncing off the glass walls to come back as an echo. She glanced around, shivering a little in the chill that was present here but hadn’t been noticeable on the ground floor. Now, she could see the dark ribbon of the river through the windows, and off to the right, a few windmills that looked far too picturesque to be anything but decorative or a tourist draw.

She froze, nearly stumbling mid-step, when she saw the playrooms that had been hidden by the construction materials until she got farther into the building.

The renovations and retrofitting had started in the far corner, with what had once been a large corner office, as well as a smaller office to one side, and a long room that was most likely a conference room in a previous life.

The smallest room had a hexagonal stage in the center, the stage made of black metal and what looked like white glass or high-shine plastic. A black dancers' pole rose from the center to touch the ceiling. The floor too had been stained black. Black metal frames were attached to the glass side walls. The frames were thin and rectangular, looking almost like oversized doorways mounted next to one another so there were three on each of the side walls for a total of six.

On the opposite side of the corner office, the conference room still looked a bit like a conference room, thanks to the long table-height solid block of concrete in the center of the room. It took Sofie a moment to identify why it looked oddly familiar—it looked like a sacrificial altar from a horror movie. It was large enough for a person to be laid out on. Padded benches and a few large steamer trunks lined the walls. A track lighting system mounted to the ceiling had a dozen small lights on it, ready to be positioned and angled to illuminate whatever, whoever, was on that stone slab.

It was the corner playroom that caused her to almost stumble.

The small angled wall that held the door into the corner space was glass, but the view was partially obstructed by a collection of paddles and floggers that hung from hooks mounted to the inside.

Two large X frames—St. Andrew’s crosses—were positioned parallel to the exterior walls but not directly up against the glass. They were set back a meter from the walls. Metal supports jutted down from the ceiling to the top of each X, holding them in place.

To one side, a plush leather chair had a thick round floor cushion on the ground in front of it. In the center of the room was something that looked almost like a gymnastics’ horse—a freestanding frame with a thick, padded top.

The floor was stained black, the St. Andrew’s crosses glossy red.

“See something you like?” Andrei murmured in her ear.

Sofie jumped, not having realized how close he was, her attention entirely focused on what she was seeing and the dark, pulsing need that beat like a drum inside her.

“Yes,” she answered honestly.

Andrei shifted so he was behind her, close enough she could feel the heat of his body in the chilly room.

“If you weren’t a thief, we’d be negotiating right now, and in ten minutes, I’d have you on your knees at my feet.”

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