Page 66 of Reveal Me
Caelon’s stag night is in full swing at the Luxor Lounge, the club Rian bought when its previous owner, Christopher Cole, mysteriously disappeared—coincidentally right after he came on to Scarlett when she worked here.
James and Killian are deeply engrossed in conversation at the bar. I’m nursing a Beckett’s Gold in one of the circular booth seats beside the main stage, where three dancers glide around polished steel poles in various stages of undress. A deep bass thrums through the club. It’s not open to members tonight. Every single man in the room is here for Caelon. Business contacts. Friends. Cousins. Caelon himself sits beside me with Dermot, Ivy’s brother, beside him, then Rian on the other side, Rian’s best friend Anthony on the end.
One of the young, lithe, barely dressed dancers approaches the booth. Her entire outfit comprises a cerise lace thong nestled between her legs. ‘How about a dance?’
Dermot shoots Caelon a look that suggests if he even thinks about a private dance, he’ll murder him. Guess he hasn’t lost the older brother protective edge yet. At least Layla doesn’t have one of those. Although having the Kingand Queen of England for parents will certainly bring its challenges.
‘No thanks.’ Caelon raises his hand at the dancer, keeping his eyes firmly trained on her face.
‘It’s on the house.’ Rian offers. He is such a fucking stirrer. He can’t seem to help himself.
‘No, thank you.’ Caelon’s tone is sterner this time. He shoots Rian a look that would make other men flinch, but Rian merely laughs in his face.
‘What about you?’ The dancer turns her attention to me.
‘Oh, don’t waste your time there, love.’ Rian snorts. ‘You haven’t got the equipment to satisfy Sean.’ He slaps the table and roars with laughter. ‘Come on, bro, when are you going to come out? It’s okay.’ Rian shrugs. ‘No judgement here.’
I maintain my cool. Years of practice have served me well. ‘You haven’t got the equipment to satisfy anyone. Not long enough to keep them, anyway.’ I raise my glass to my lips and take a deep drink. ‘How many women have you fucked this year? Ten?’
‘Twelve.’ Rian gloats as Anthony beckons the dancer towards him
‘And exactly how many of them have banged the door down for seconds?’ I stare at him levelly over the rim of my glass as Caelon and Anthony dissolve into fits of laughter.
‘Okay, smartass. How many women have you fucked this year?’ Rian exudes a cockiness that stems from being the youngest and being handed everything in life. His idea of working is buying a strip bar and a string of nightclubs and alternating his time drinking in each of them.
I never reveal anything about myself, but tonight, it’s too tempting not to. Plus, even talking about Layla in a roundabout way brings a grin to my face. Inviting her into my bed last night was another surprising first for me, but it won’t be the last. Watching her as she curled contentedly into mychest was every bit as satisfying as watching her come. I’m going to need more—of both. ‘One.’
‘What?’ Caelon turns to me, eyes wide and incredulous. He’s consumed enough Beckett’s Gold to forget this entire night, let alone this conversation.
‘Yeah, right.’ Rian rolls his eyes. ‘Who is this mystery woman? Why haven’t we met her?’
‘Because she’s too good for any of us, and I refuse to have you pawing all over her like you do with our sisters-in-law.’
‘Convenient.’ Rian teases with a smirk. His attention shifts from me to his friend Anthony, who’s guiding the dancer onto his lap. His hands snake from her waist up over her breasts in front of everyone.
Rian’s entire demeanour flicks like a switch. All trace of teasing evaporates as he eyes Anthony tweaking nipples and kissing the back of the dancer’s long slim neck. ‘I’ll take a dance.’
We all know it’s not a dance she’s offering.
She slides off his lap and places her hand in his. His navy suit pants are tented with his excitement. Rian narrows his eyes. ‘Thought you were married, man.’ He shakes his head.
‘What’s it to you?’ Anthony shrugs, then follows the dancer through the club, no doubt to one of the private rooms.
‘Asshole.’ Rian snatches up the whiskey in front of him. ‘His wife is way too good for him.’ He slides out of the booth. ‘I’ll order us another bottle.’ He nods towards the almost empty bottle of Beckett’s Gold in the centre of the table.
‘Not for me,’ Caelon slurs. ‘I’m going home.’
Dermot nods his approval. ‘I’ll give you a ride. My driver’s outside.’
‘Thanks, bro.’ Caelon slaps Dermot’s back as he helps him up. He definitely won’t remember the earlier conversation. ‘See you, Sean. Thanks for coming, man.’ He slaps my back.
‘As if I’d miss your stag night.’ I’m just grateful he had it in Dublin. Given it’s not his first, he opted to keep it low key.
‘I love you, man.’ He bumps his fist against my bicep.
‘Yeah, yeah, I love you too, bro.’ I pat his back as he staggers away with an amused looking Dermot.
There’s no need for me to stay now Caelon’s gone. Ben is outside in the Bentley waiting for me. I glance at the chunky silver on my wrist.
