Page 27 of Tender Offer
Valentine’s Day in London has given me no problems until now. Because you know what’s worse than pretending you’re okay with being in the same city as an ex you swear never crosses your mind? Pretending it doesn’t stir the tiny part of you that’s yearning to see him again. The part that still remembers the love we once shared, the love that’s become a rubric for every man who will never measure up to what we had.
There was heartbreak, but there was also affection. Reverence.
Every forehead kiss, loving glance, and adoration he wrapped around “I love you” found a home in the heart I tried to conceal. I’ll never forget, and that scares me.
The more I fought to forget Preston’s beautiful face today, the more I saw it. He was everywhere. The server at brunch. A man walking his dog. I wasn’t safe in the apartment Kojo and I are renting.
Wouldn’t you know our host subscribes to a business magazine with Preston on the cover?
A trip to the spa to pamper my stress away didn’t help, either. Neither did the mini shopping trip.
Any attempt to erase him is a lost cause, which is why I’m in my closet, choosing an outfit for tonight. He’s still overseas. I double-check before sliding into a backless minidress and heading into the night. Kojo already had me sign my life away in waivers and rush an STI panel in case my “curious ass wants to feel a leather tongue.”
Ravenous is a last-ditch effort. Maybe it’s the distraction I need.
Chapter 15
Preston
Black sedans round the corner and stop at the designated entrance. Eldridge Court is our flagship hotel, and it’s full of surprises. The car park is only accessible through a gated entrance. So is the destination for tonight’s debauchery.
Guests exit their vehicles wearing the hooded black cloaks and masquerade masks we provided for the evening. Anonymity is the standard for all members who participate in our activities. Aristocrats, entertainers, and persons deemed the upper crust of society require an additional layer of privacy beyond our standard NDA. They enjoy the thrill of fulfilling their fantasies through hidden identities.
I switch cameras to the small crowd heading into the private lift that leads to a section of the hotel that’s inaccessible to the public. My great-grandfather would turn in the family mausoleum if he knew about Ravenous. My father looks the other way—not that his opinion matters. His infidelities alone would draw twice as much press. He and the other board members will never step foot inside our primary location or any one of our pop-ups.
There’s a knock at the door. William pops his head around it, his cloak already in place above his all-black suit. “Almost done?”
Unlike the offices in our Westminster building, my study in Eldridge Court is a model of tradition. Custom walnut paneling runs from the ceiling down to the bookcases. My father sat at this executive desk, as did his father, and his father before that.
I hate this room, but it’s my office. Eldridge Court is a bitch to get to because of roadwork and endless congestion. If it were up to me, I’d let this place collect dust with the rest of the books and family heirlooms.
“Yeah.” I check my watch and flip back to the underground car park feed. Madison’s driver alerted me that he was pulling into the procession of town cars. As part of the experience, all attendees have the option of utilizing our car service to take them to and from the event. I personally organized Madison and her friend’s evening, down to the masks.
A car rolls to a stop. The feed from the security camera isn’t the sharpest, but the sliver of thigh that peeks out from underneath the cloak steals my breath. I have vivid memories of those thighs wrapped around my waist.
Black satin conceals the valley of her body from the world, but I relearned every dip and soft line when she stepped back into my life. The lace Venetian mask I chose rests above defined cheekbones to hide most of her face. The intricate crystal details will make it easier to spot her among the crowd. Only sixty people are in attendance tonight, a decision I made to keep the event intimate and any competition minimal.
I have no claim to Madison, but once she takes me back, she’s mine.
“Bruv, are you gonna stare at screens all night or go get her?” William asks with a dejected sigh.
I grab my mask, join him in the private lift in our office suite, and head downstairs.
The slow whine of the cello blends with the violins in a haunting melody. The jazz band, outfitted in classic dinner jackets and black evening dresses, plays in the corner of the reception space. Each musician wears a mask. So do the wait staff weaving through the cloaked figures in the corridor.
Walls the color of black pearl reflect dim lighting off scattered gold frames. We have red rooms and areas with strobe lights, but we pride ourselves on not being a total cliché.
William takes off toward the east wing. He pulled a hamstring at the last event and had to ice his nuts for a week after swinging from the ceiling. His gold and black jester mask is fitting, considering the pending antics of a walking jokester. It also guarantees I won’t catch him bare-ass scuba diving into someone’s pussy.Again. There are certain things siblings shouldn’t see, and his dick is at the top of the list.
I travel deeper into Ravenous. The ballroom holds a demonstration every hour on the hour. Guests can learn and mingle in a safe space before exploring other parts of the club. The stations bordering the ballroom are sectioned off with seating and satin fabric panels between daybeds. There’s no sex allowed in the main areas and limited alcohol consumption at the only bar.
Outside of the ballroom, almost anything goes so long as there’s consent. Monitors stroll throughout areas to ensure the safety and agency of our guests. We outfitted hotel rooms into BDSM spaces and assigned monitors who know how to navigate boundaries.
I swallow hard at the discomfort that hardens my chest at the thought of Madison locked away in a private room. Sleeping with her tonight isn’t my intention. I want to see her, be in her presence without pissing her off and chasing her away.
“Fuck,” I mumble before I turn on my heel and rush to the other side of the club.
Black walls blend with crimson. The music shifts from classic jazz to a sultry instrumental. William calls it lift-fucking music, which is fitting since we have an installation just for that.
