Page 41 of Torrid Love
A lash of hurt stabs at my heart.
Tonight, he’ll be kissing another woman.
CHAPTER 11
Roderick
Aaron and I end up at the Quintus Hotel––one of my favorite hangouts. From there, we weave our way through a more private hallway few are privy to. It leads us to a plush and luxuriant garden. It’s a ruse to hide the obvious in plain sight—the black door that leads to more. Behind the prim, proper and very respectable façade of the hotel, resides a seedy and lewd underworld—the member’s only private adult club. The gentleman’s club, restaurants and bars are all located inside the hotel. No one would ever bat an eyelash. The black door and covered passageway leads to Dark Compulsion. That’s where the rich and famous come to play. The owner spared no expense to ensure the outside matches the majestic design you find inside. It goes without saying security is tight.
Aaron is my guest for tonight. He was in the mood for something edgier. I wasn’t. We settled on the first floor of the building. The action is pretty vanilla down here compared to the other floors, but there are still plenty of great options for an illicit hookup with no strings attached.
As I scour the room, I can’t stop thinking of Dom and how stunning she looked. Maybe Aaron is right. Maybe it’s in the water. I chuckle internally. I wish it were that simple. Dom was always pretty, but now her striking beauty is almost blinding. I really don’t know what to do with myself when I’m around her.
No sooner has her angelic face popped into my mind than my hand curls up in a fist. As lovely as she is, Claire can be a bit of a wildcard. I can’t help but wonder what kind of trouble she’ll push my best friend into tonight… especially since she enlisted her reckless best friend Kelley as her wingman. Three beautiful single women out on the town in LA. What could possibly go wrong?
Fuck.
I shake my head, hoping to dissipate the millions of possible scenarios. It’s in vain.
What the hell is this stupid fluttering sensation in the pit of my stomach?
Dom’s return is turning my world upside down.
I take in a deep breath hoping to settle my stomach.
It’s to no avail.
The unfamiliar stir is still as present as the erratic beat of my heart.
Shit.
I have to find a way to shut down my undeniable—scratch that—unreasonable desire for Dom. I’m too screwed up, and she deserves better. She needs someone who’s been loved and who knows how to love. And that isn’t me.
Jesus Christ.
I need to get a fucking grip.
I need to get laid.
“Rod?” Aaron shakes me out of my mental rumination.
“Sorry. What were you saying?”
He knits his eyebrows. “We’re in a room surrounded by some of the most gorgeous women in LA and your mind is in Iceland. What gives?”
“No. I’m still here,” I lie. “I was just checking out… the options.”
“Sure and I’m the Pope.”
“Don’t break my balls.”
“Glad to hear you still have a pair.” I shake my head. “I want to make sure you’re with me, Rod.”
“I’m with you.”
“Good because I’m leaving first thing Monday morning for Tokyo,” he reminds me. “I have tonight and all of tomorrow to get some action and there’s no way I’m not dipping my dick in an inviting pussy.”
Everything about this place guarantees a home run.
