Page 2 of The Apples Hung Like Stars
“You’ll need a host for the evening. I’ll ask someone to come down and get you. Do you want to put your coat over in the cloakroom?” They look me up and down again, an eyebrow raising in question. “Thereisa dress code.”
I know that there’s a dress code; I agonised over it for hours before heading out this evening. Tried on one outfit after another until I landed on this one. A short black velvet dress, its skirt floaty, and its neckline cut low enough to reveal most of my very amble bosom. It’s not complicated, not even overtly kinky, but it makes me feel confident. Sexy. Desirable.
And I want to feel desirable tonight.
Slipping my coat off, I glance down and then up. “Will this pass?”
There is a softening around their eyes, and the receptionist smiles lightly. “Oh, sweet child, they are going to eat you up in there.”
I bristle at being called a sweet child, but there’s a shiver hidden under that bravado, a shiver at the idea of being eaten up. “I’m sure I’ll manage,” I say tartly, but I don’t think they quite buy it, because they chuckle under their breath, and shake their head in amusement.
“Of course, you will.”
My hands are trembling slightly as I hand my coat over to the cloakroom attendant, and take my ticket. There’s a pause when I realise that I have no pockets to put it into. The attendant laughs softly, and gestures to me to turn over the ticket. There’s a pin there, and I pin it to my dress.
“Harder to lose that way,” she says. “Just be careful not to lose the dress.”
Lose the dress?
I hope I won’t lose the dress.
“Come now, Una,” says a voice from behind me. “Her dress may get discarded, but it’s very unlikely to be lost for all eternity.” The voice is low, lower than any woman’s voice I’ve ever heard before, and it resonates with me on a physical level, as if the tone has reverberated in my very soul, and awoken sensations I’ve never yet felt.
She is hauntingly beautiful, with red hair that falls to the ground, and pale skin that’s almost ghostly in its complexion. On anyone else, it would make them look ill. She just looks ethereal, or as ethereal as anyone can in a tailored suit.
“Welcome, Janet,” she says, spreading her arms wide, “to the Golden Apple.”
Chapter Two
Clíodhna
She’s delicious.
Her passport photo didn’t do her justice, and the referencing checks we did, said nothing about rounded curves that I long to see bounce beneath me.
I should speak to Aoibheall about that. I think I’d like a little more warning when beauties such as thisJanetare likely to enter my realm.
I cast my mind back to her referencing file. Tam had been her sponsor. Urgh. The man is mediocre at best. We’d almost rejected her application because he’d been attached to it.
Thank goodness we hadn’t.
I walk down the stairs towards her, and she swallows. Adorable. “What brings a nice girl like you to my club?”
“I’m not a nice girl,” she answers, her chin going up stubbornly. Delightful. I adore breaking stubborn ones the most. “I want to experience…everything. And I can’t get that anywhere else.”
“Tam was your sponsor. Did he not help you experience ‘everything’?”
Her look is scornful. “Tam? Seriously?No.”
That makes me laugh, and I’m not ashamed to say that I put a little bit of my power into it. Push it out until it makes her shiver. She bites her lip, an indentation in that plump fullness, and I want to nip and bite at her until she gasps into my mouth, as I know she will.
“Good to know,” I say. I turn to Naoise, our receptionist. They’re watching our interactions with unbridled interest and I shoot them a warning look. “Have you done theotherinduction?”
They shake their head.
“No matter, I shall attend to it myself.” I offer my hand to Janet, and the sweet girl takes it without a moment’s hesitation. “Come.”
I lead her into the interview room off the reception, the room reserved for these specific inductions. We don’t do them too often, not being keen on accepting mortals into our space all that often, but we make exceptions. And Janet is so utterly delightful.
