Page 37 of Sire
“Wherearewe?”
“The old Naval yard.” He kills the ignition, turning to me. “Listen, you need to know a few things before we go inside.”
Can he be more ominous? “Oh-kay.”
“Ms. Faye is my mother, and this is her club: a private sex club.”Hey, Pulse, calm down.“She uses the money she makes here to save people like you.”
“And you and your brother help her.”
“Bro-thers.”
“How many do you have?”
And do they all look as hot as him and Jace? God help me if they do.
“I have six brothers. There’s seven of us who work for her because we believe in what she does.”
“Why?”
“That’s not my story to tell.”
“So, what can you tell me?”
“That the club isn’t open right now, otherwise, no way in hell would I let you in.”
“Because I’m under twenty-one?”
“No.” He shakes his head like it makes him mad. “Because you’re about to see things you never have.”
“Hmm.” I study him. “I’m not shook by taboo things, so why are you worried about me seeing them?” I lower my brows, teasing, “Is it because youbreedhere?”
His nostrils flare. “Never. One, it’s my mom’s club, so hell-no, I don’t let her see me fuck. Two, I can’t risk being seen here. My flock is progressive. Some are even members here, but not me. Because three, I don’t get the same freedom. I’m held to a different standard.”
“Because they’ll judge your sexuality?”
He nods.
“So, where do you fuck?”
“Where do you get off asking me?”
I bat my lashes. The pun is too easy. “Because I get off knowing.”
Half-amused, he rolls his eyes. “I belong to a fetish club in Atlanta, and sometimes, I use an app. But it’s been a minute, and I’ve been busy.” He pauses. “Busy finding you. So, come on.” He opens his door. “If you have a death wish, be late for a meeting with my mom.”
Before I can open my door, he’s doing it for me. He’s offering me his big, inked hand, and I take it, my heart fluttering under my butterfly tattoo. He’s a brutal gentleman, gently shadowing me with his protection, as he escorts me into…
A sex club.
Inside, the house lights are on. I’m sure it’s usually dark in here, setting an erotic mood, but right now, it’s swarming with worker bees, cleaning every surface.
Glancing around, I can’t take it all in.
Concrete floors and ornate rugs. A large stage. Velvet sofas. Acrylic stools. Plush chairs. Tufted ottomans. Leather benches. Chains and padded crosses hang on the wall. Ropes and shackles sway beside them. Glass jars full of condoms, wipes, and packets of lube are everywhere.Sandalwood scents the air. Sex toys are for sale next to the gleaming bar.
Oh, my God.
It’s fucking heaven.
