Page 11 of Ruined
“Mr. Conway,” I said.
“Lucas,” his voice was deep and smooth, as if his words dripped into oak and soaked through the aged wood. “Take me to the Terrariums.”
Finally. We could deal with whatever it was that he was so curious about.
“What kind?” I asked.
He raised a brow. “Your choice.”
I kept my eyes off of him as he stood and readied himself. He followed closely behind me, his cologne, an earthy smell, wafting its way into my nose. I led us down a hallway. One of our security guards nodded at us, stationed far enough away that he couldn’t see into the rooms. On each side, there were rooms with locked, windowed doors. Green and red lights indicated which rooms were occupied, and though it was rarely ever used, a purple light indicated danger to the security guard. Each room had different equipment, some for the more sadomasochistic delights, and others for strict entertainment purposes. I selected a room with different aerial rigging setups. On one side of the room, a long beam, hoisted up by two thick columns, was ready for a hoop, silks, ropes, or a static trapeze. A metal pole gleamed in the other corner.
I sat by the rigging equipment on a plush black velvet couch. The material crunched against my bare skin. Lucas sat across from me, the rigging equipment dangling between us. The thin air around us hummed with energy. His cologne was more potent enclosed in this room. Rosewood and ash and musk. Almost suffocating. Making it feel like each choice that I made was more than it was. He wasn’t just another member. He was something else.
I swallowed an acrid taste, maybe it was the anticipation melting in my mouth, then closed my eyes for a second. Might as well move forward. Show myself that I could treat him like a regular member. He wasn’t anything special, but new. Just new.
I began my usual spiel: “Have you ever been to the Terrariums before?”
“No,” he said. His deep voice held weight, even in one syllable.
I took a breath, then continued: “These are private rooms that are offered for entertainment purposes only. We select an amount of time and negotiate the terms. Each server at the Dahlia District has different limitations. It’s up to you, the club member, to select a server that will best fit your interests.”
I removed a clipboard from underneath the couch, then wrote down my standard price for each hour. It was well over what other servers proposed, but as far as I knew, none of them had a debt like mine. Iris and Teagen might have come close, but we weren’t allowed to talk about the particulars of our accounts. It was hard to know.
The paperwork went over the different acts to be negotiated. Though sex was never listed, words like ‘suction’ and ‘openings’ were discreet ways to ask for certain acts without stating them directly. It had been Iris’s revision to add those subtle word choices to the terms. She lied to Dahlia about what they meant.
I marked those parts as ‘no’ for the server, then handed it to Lucas. The Dahlia District, despite the rumors, was not a brothel.
He studied the paper. I expected him to get up and shake my hand, telling me this wouldn’t work out. But instead, he leaned back against the couch.
“No openings,” he said. “No sucking. No licking. But biting?” He pointed to the sheet. Biting was under dominance and submission, not sensuality. “Biting is unmarked.”
“Openings, sucking, and licking refer to oral and penetrative sex, Mr. Conway.” I straightened my posture. “If you would like, there are plenty of servers who would be willing to negotiate those terms with you.”
“But not you?”
“I don’t have sex for money.”
“What a shame,” he said in a sarcastic tone. “And here, I thought that for that price, you would do whatever I wanted.”
I sucked in a long breath and shook my head. This part was always annoying.
“Why me?” I stammered. “You could have any woman you wanted. Any of those women would be dying to have you back here.”
“Because I want you, Haley.”
I turned away and covered my mouth. It didn’t make sense. I had to keep myself together. “I don’t break the rules, Mr. Conway,” I said, facing him. “Dahlia gave us strict orders not to have sex with the club members. My fellow servers might break the rules, but I won’t risk it.”
“Why?”
I ran a hand over my head, smoothing flyaway hairs. “What do you mean, why?”
“Why not risk it?” He motioned to the high ceiling. “There are no cameras.”
Though I hated to admit it, he was right about that. “We have panic buttons,” I said. There was one under every seat, as well as a smart device that listened for keywords to trigger the alert for the guards.
“Panic aside,” he said. He stood and came closer to me. “For the right price, you can admit that giving in to a little—” he touched my arm, “indulgence, wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”
What was his problem? I didn’t move. I had to stand my ground. “I don’t break the rules, Mr. Conway,” I said, my voice harsh.
