Page 38 of Texting the CEO's Obsession
Taylor laughs easily, scrawling out a signature at the bottom of the screen before sliding the tablet over to me. I scan through the document briefly; nothing in particular jumps out at me. It’sjust a club, it’s not like there would be anything really specific in here. I scratch out my own signature as Taylor shamelessly flirts.
The man flirts back with her, meeting her tit for tat as he gets our auction tickets ready. I can tell she’s going to be coming back for his number later.
“Please, do enjoy yourselves to the fullest, ladies,” he says, handing us our ticket stubs back as he rakes his bright blue eyes over Taylor’s body. “If you need anything, just ask for Tommy. I’d behappyto help.”
“I’m sure you would,” Taylor teases, dragging her fingers along his arm as we step past him.
I roll my eyes teasingly as a hulking man pulls the door to the club open, gesturing us inside. My heart jumps into my chest at the realization that this is actually happening, that there’s a chance I’ll see my mystery man again after weeks of wanting and waiting. I start scanning the room as soon as we step inside, hoping to see him immediately.
Maybe it’ll be like a fairy tale, where everything fades away and I run into his arms and live happily ever after. As soon as I start looking through the crowd, though, my mind stalls out like a broken record.
This is…notwhat I expected.
Taylor’s usual haunts are upscale cocktail lounges, all marble flooring and velvet seating, but this is closer to warehouse chic. It’s lavishly decorated, low lights scattering a warm glow across the plush leather couches and armchairs arranged around small tables. A bar stretches along the entire back wall, glittering bottles of alcohol and mixers resting on sturdy oak shelves. A stage takes up the opposite wall of the room, with heavy blackcurtains serving as a backdrop and an announcement podium off to the side. Tasteful black and white silhouette paintings and pictures line the walls, just a hint of sensuality without being overtly erotic. Crystal chandeliers cast sparkling rays down on the crowd.
That’s not what really catches my attention. It’s the people.
I was expecting everyone to be dressed similarly to us. It’s an upscale, private event, so it makes sense for everyone to be dressed to the nines. Instead, several of the people I saw outside wearing long coats are now wearing what barely amounts to lingerie. Bodies clad in lace and leather stand between those in satin gowns and others in low-cut clubwear.
The only thing that everyone has in common is a mask covering at least half of their face.
As soon as Taylor stops at one of the high-top tables at the edge of the room, I lean close to whisper into her ear.
“I thought this was a networking event! Where the hell did you bring me?”
Taylor laughs, the gold edges of her lacy mask catching the light and the eyes of several people around us. Despite my obvious attempt to be subtle, she doesn’t whisper back, instead propping her elbow on the tabletop and resting her chin in her palm.
“I’m trying to get you torelax, not stress you out more,” she teases. “It’s a lifestyle club. Nothing crazy is happening; don’t get your panties in a twist.”
I glance around at the decor and the crowd of people half decked out in leather and lingerie and half dressed to the nines.
“A lifestyle club,” I repeat slowly. “Which is… what, exactly?”
Before we came in, I assumed it was a social spot for peoplewayout of my tax bracket, but this is nothing like my imagination conjured up. It’s still unbearably, perfectly elegant, but definitely not what I expected to walk into.
“Like, for swingers,” Taylor explains lazily, watching me with open amusement on her face. “And kinky folk in general, I guess. I don’t know the details, really, Lisa just said it was an upscale sex club and that her hubby knows someone who works here. Fun, right?”
Fun?
Jesus Christ, my best friend is insane. My mouth drops open in shock as my cheeks flare bright red. I suddenly feel both incredibly overdressed and far too exposed. Not to mention that mymystery manknows this place. I guess that makes sense. He does love bossing me around, but what else is he doing in a place like this?
I’m not exactly the most experienced person in this sort of area. The only dirty things I’ve come close to are the words I read in my books! Oh my god… he’s going to hate me.
“Why would you bring me to asex clubtorelax?” I hiss under my breath, fixing my eyes down on the tabletop to avoid staring. “Are youcrazy?”
Taylor snickers, nudging me with her elbow unapologetically. She knows that if I were truly upset, I’d get up and walk out without a word, but that doesn’t mean I’m not utterly flabbergasted.
“First,” she says, self-important and grinning playfully, “you need to getlaid. A sex club seems like a good place for that, since you won’t let me take you out to a normal bar. Plus, your mysteryman hasn’t tried to meet you, so you’re not exactly locked down. Andsecond,” she continues before I can argue, “I’ve seen what you read, honey. Don’t pull the innocent act on me.”
My blush only grows, and I know it undercuts the glare I send her. “Shut up. You’re not allowed to take me anywhere without giving me all the information from now on.”
She laughs but holds out her pinky.
“Promise,” she says, hooking our pinkies together.
I huff out a sigh but force myself to relax a little. It’s not like she’s wrong about anything—I need to relax, and even if I don’t know much about it in real life, I’m definitely into this sort of thing. And Idoneed to get laid, although I have no intention of sleeping with anyone but my masked man.
Or Nick.
