Page 34 of Allure
It became a beacon for her. She had been following it the moment they let them pass the main lobby, and every hint of red had her changing directions, eager to see if the red belonged to Brooklyn or not. As if this was some game of cat and mouse, and Brooklyn was the prize.
“And then I was going to tattoo Kitty’s Playground on my ass.” Kat’s dry tone pulled Delilah up short when she heard the ridiculous thing her friend uttered.
“You’re putting what on your ass?” She tried to recall the whole conversation and ducked her head when she realized she hadn’t been paying attention to her.
“I had a full conversation with you about one of the rooms we stopped in, but you’ve been checked out since we left the main lobby. You want to talk about it?” Kat tugged her closer and their steps slowed.
“Talk about what, exactly?” Delilah prayed she opted for talking about Orchard Tree or Sirens—anything business-related.
“Either the woman in the red dress we’ve been chasing down these long ass halls or your dislike for Marco.” Kat turned to stand in front of her with a cat-like smile on her face. “And don’t try and say you’re not chasing her or you don’t dislike Marco either.”
They stepped off to the side and out of the way of foot traffic. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell her friend this really wasn’t the place for full conversations, but the halls were quieter up here. There was no music playing as they walked through Orchard Tree unless they were in a room, and so far anyone they came in contact with only smiled or nodded in their direction without stopping for conversation.
“I don’t dislike him.” Delilah let out a breath. “I just dislike how things happened, and before you say anything, we voted on it and the majority ruled. So I’m good with it.”
“So you are chasing the woman in the red dress.” Kat smiled. “You would have started with that and told me I was wrong if it wasn’t true. So, who is she?”
Delilah laughed with a shake of her head. She wanted to deny it but she couldn’t. She practically dragged Kat in every different direction as soon as a flash of red caught her gaze. She didn’t understand why she was doing it. What was she hoping to find? Brooklyn letting the dress fall to her feet while she sought pleasure in some stranger?
When she can seek pleasure in you?
Delilah sucked in a sharp breath and her stomach tightened at the wayward thought. “She’s just someone from work.” Her voice shook as if it was a lie instead of the truth. “I hadn’t expected to see anyone I knew out here, that’s all.”
“You want to try that again?” Kat pressed her lips together. “If that’s the case, we’d be going in the opposite direction, away from her. I think I saw her go behind one of the doors on this floor.”
Delilah’s body jerked forward at the information. She glanced in both directions at the numerous doors on this floor, wondering which one Brooklyn had scurried behind and how she missed it.
She heard Kat’s loud laughter and narrowed her eyes. “You’re fuckin’ with me?” She wanted to throttle her.
“I was but,” she whistled under her breath, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so focused before. I’ll tell you what. I’m going to go off on my own and find something to get into. You go find your lady in red, and we either meet back up at the main lobby at closing or send a text once we retrieve our phones if we’re going to be occupied. Good?”
Delilah barely had time to respond before Kat clapped her hands together and called ‘break’ before scurrying down the hall the way they came. She wanted to run after Kat—it was the smart thing to do—but she couldn’t move, couldn’t find her voice to tell her to wait for her.
A flash of red danced in Delilah’s peripheral. Her body moved before she gave it the command to, and she went after it. There was no logical reason for her to be pursuing Brooklyn, and yet everything in her body urged her forward.
She felt excitement of the unknown course through her when she caught a flash of red disappearing behind one of the doors at the end of the hallway.Anticipation made her quicken her pace. She got to the door at the end of the hallway—a red door—and knocked. She had no game plan, no idea what would be behind this door, but she knew she wasn’t going to turn around now.
You can run. I enjoy the chase, Brooklyn, and I can’t wait to catch my prize.
Marco and Syra resumed their walk in relative silence. Her palm still held steady in his hand, and he fucking hated how right it felt, how natural being here with her like this felt. The air buzzed around them with something he didn’t want to acknowledge or even think about. He’d seen the softening in her gaze toward him, felt how quickly her body opened up to his—the fact that she reached for his hand first told him they weren’t as far removed from each other as he had hoped. Especially when he was the one to interlock their fingers together—walking hand in hand down this hallway that never seemed to end, like they were a couple.
What happened to his anger?
Where had his bitterness gone?
He missed the war that waged inside of him when he saw her six months ago and how it reignited when he walked into the conference room. He needed to hold on to it for no other reason than self-preservation.
Why?
A tiny voice in his head whispered. She was here now, and there was nothing standing in his way of making her his again.
“Do you come here often?” Syra’s voice was soft. Her words floated in the space between them, lulling him in further like some spell he didn’t have in him to fight.
He could see her eyes widen the deeper they moved through Orchard Tree, like she was trying to soak everything up at once. He felt the smirk on his lips trying to view Orchard from her vantage point. He tried to see things as a newbie and realized how overwhelming this place could be. He knew Syra had knowledge of the lifestyle and its parties, but experiencing it firsthand could be intimidating, no matter how curious his estrellita was. The sheer size of this place alone would be enough to have a seasoned participant ready to tap out.
“Once upon a time, yes.” He hesitated, not sure if giving her the exact rundown would make a difference. He and Asli had been friends with the owners when they were all young adults and helped build this place early on. They had memberships, but once he met Syra and the years after her, he hadn’t really come back into this atmosphere. “Not much anymore. I come every so often to renew my membership, but I don’t necessarily engage much.”
“Really?” She sounded surprised. “Not even to watch?” Her tone was teasing and caused him to chuckle.
