Page 68 of Gamble
“Nalani,” Jaxson warned, “do you know what you’re doing?”
“Yes, I’m trying to get Elijah his own happily ever after,” the dark-haired beauty replied.
“But this party is for you and Shane’s engagement,” Emma protested.
“Then I suggest we move the party downstairs early,” Nalani shot back. “We all knew we were going to end up down there eventually, anyway.”
“Sounds like a great idea to me,” Chase grinned, enjoying the drama unfolding.
“Hell, yeah,” the handsome guy with salt and pepper hair who had his arm wrapped around Khloe’s shoulder exclaimed.
Before Reagan could ask what they were talking about, Nalani had linked their arms and was steering her to followMadison toward the back wall of the dining room. When Madison pressed her palm to another hidden biometric scanner, a section of the back wall slid away to reveal a service corridor that led through some back-of house industrial kitchen space and storage. What looked like an employee elevator was at the end of the hall.
The women’s heels clicked on the tiled floor as Nalani continued to answer Reagan’s unasked questions. “We’re lucky Jaxson, Chase, and Emma installed this secret entrance just for us, so we don’t have to go back through Runway and past all the looky-loos to get downstairs.”
Emma spoke from behind them. “We didn’t have a choice. Runway patrons were putting two and two together when all the celebrities kept going down the guarded staircase. Too many journalists were getting nosy.”
What’s with all of this cloak and dagger stuff? NDAs and secret hallways? Guarded staircases and biometric security systems? Was it possible there was some illegal activity going on here? Is that what Elijah was trying to protect her from?
As the entourage moved down the hallway, they passed a surprised-looking staff member who stepped aside as the procession of celebrities swept through. A security guard stood at attention next to the elevator bank. As Jaxson stepped to the front, the guard nodded respectfully.
“She’s cleared, John,” Jaxson announced.
“Yes, sir,” the guard acknowledged before reaching to hit the down button.
It was surreal being packed into an elevator with some of the most famous people in the country. Clearly close friends, the group was jovial, leaving Reagan to pinch herself in the corner as she caught a whiff of Shane’s masculine scent.
“Take a deep breath,” Nalani said next to her. “It’s going to be okay.”
The women’s eyes met. Nalani’s calm reassurance meant the world to her. As the slow-moving elevator came to a stop, Reagan said a silent prayer that Elijah was finally going to see her. To talk to her. To explain what the hell was going on.
Loud music greeted them as the doors to the elevator opened. Most of the celebrity entourage piled out, opening enough space for Reagan to see they were in yet another bar or club. The corporate elegance of Runway gave way to something more intimate, more secretive. It was dim lighting, more sensual in tone. The music’s rhythm was lower. And the patrons...
After taking only a few steps into the bar, Reagan’s breath caught as she took in the surrounding scene. The patron’s clothing was more provocative—women in corsets and tiny skirts, men in leather pants and open shirts. An undercurrent of sexuality charged the energy, making her skin tingle.
Nalani squeezed the arm she’d been linked with and said, “Welcome to Black Light.” It’s a second, more private club. This is the club Elijah manages.”
Relief flooded through Reagan so powerfully she almost laughed. He hadn’t lied about managing a club. But she still didn’t understand all the secrecy.
As they moved deeper into the space, Reagan caught glimpses of things that made her pulse race. In the bar's corner was a tiny dance floor where only a handful of couples moved together in scenes out of Dirty Dancing. As they walked by a set of open double doors, she could see it was an actual theater. Erotic films played on multiple screens while people watched with more than casual interest. Even more famous faces she recognized from movies and television mingled, some engaged in intimate conversations, others in activities that made her cheeks burn.
This wasn’t just a dance club or a bar. This was something else entirely.
“Reagan,” Nalani stopped walking and turned to face her. “Before we go any further, I need to ask you something important.”
They had stopped in front of heavy velvet curtains that blocked the view beyond. She knew there was more to uncover based on the distinctive sounds coming from behind those curtains. Moans of pleasure, the crack of what might have been leather on skin, cries that could have been pain or ecstasy or both.
“Are you sure you really want to see behind the curtain?” Nalani asked, her dark eyes serious. “Because once you see what’s back there, you can’t unsee it. But then you’ll maybe understand at least part of why Elijah has been so afraid to tell you the truth about who he really is.”
Reagan’s mouth felt dry. Every instinct told her she was standing at a crossroads, that whatever lay beyond those curtains would change everything she thought she knew about the man she’d fallen in love with.
“I need answers,” she said, surprised by the steadiness in her own voice.
Nalani studied her face for a long moment, then nodded. “Okay. But remember—what you’re about to see is consensual. Everything here is between adults who have been here, chosen to take part. It may look intense, but it’s all about trust and pleasure.”
With that cryptic warning, Nalani pulled aside the heavy curtain. The sound of pounding music and the smell of sex hit her like a wave.
Reagan’s world tilted on its axis.
