Page 25 of Scarlett Thief (Criminal Underground 2)

It wasn't until Mare led me to a locker against the back wall, popped it open, and pulled out the 'outfit' that had been left for me by Wolf and Hadrian that I finally realized she wasn't mocking me at all. She had been preparing to shock me—and shock me, she did.

"What the hell is that thing?" I demanded, staring at the elaborate collection of black lines and buckles.

"It's a type of bondage wear," Mare said, handing it over along with a tiny thong and see through lace brassiere similar to hers. "I'm pretty sure Jensen and Archer helped them pick it out." She snickered at my expression as I held up the black thing.

"It's a fucking harness," I snapped.Those assholes.They wanted to parade me around in a goddamn harness just to prove they could.Ugh. Men are all the same. Why am I not surprised?

"You don't have to wear it, of course," Mare said, "but I would recommend it."

"Are you sure they didn't give you anything with any more coverage?"

She shook her head. "I didn't take you as the shy type."

I lowered the arm holding up the damned harness and shot her a look. "I am not shy." I'd been in far less, in front of far more important people. I'd fucked the king of a small island nation for access to his fancy computer tech. He'd asked me to perform a fashion show and striptease for three of his advisors in nothing more than a collection of sarongs—sans underwear. Yet, the thought of Wolf and Hadrian seeing me in this made me feel like I was losing my armor, like I was willingly giving that up just to see if they would admire the body that had seduced dozens if not hundreds of men.

Well, I could seduce them all right, and if they wanted to play dirty, I could too.

"I'll wear it." I dropped the 'clothes' onto the shelf inside the locker before I took a step back and began to undress. Right there in the open. No one else seemed to care if they were naked or not, so why should I?

Once I was done dressing in the ridiculously tiny lingerie that had been left for me, I resembled a somewhat elegant lady of the night. I had to grudgingly admit they had some sense of style. The brassiere, unlike Mare’s, covered damn near nothing. While she had a protective layer behind the filigree lace of hers, mine had nothing underneath. It was transparent. Had we been going anywhere but a damn sex club, it would have been obscene.

My nipples puckered against the fabric and the pink of my areolas were plainly visible. The harness, while at first appearance had seemed stiff and uncomfortable, was nice. It wasn’t rough at all against my skin and the dark lines against my tan flesh felt like soft ropes holding me in place. It almost made me feel more covered than I actually was. As soon as Mare led me out onto the floor, I was grateful for the thong. There were many members without anything to cover their lower halves at all as they were walked, paraded, and led on leashes throughout the club—men and women and those in between alike.

“This way,” Mare said, leading me around a beautiful crystal bar. I could see all of the bottles the bartenders kept beneath the surface as they were lined up and facing outward. “Everyone has different tolerances, so you’re allowed to drink,” she said as she explained the club’s proceedings, “but keep it to a minimum. Know your limits. No one gets drunk here. One infraction will see a membership revoked.”

I nodded, following behind her at a more sedate pace. “I read the rules,” I told her. “I signed the contract and the NDA.”

“Of course you did,” she replied. “You wouldn’t have been allowed inside without that. They do take their rules quite seriously, though. For the duration of your time here, you are under Wolf’s and Diablo—I mean, Hadrian’s—protection.”

“I’m not a submissive,” I said, drawing her to a stop. “We’re simply here to talk to their contacts. Your husbands, I presume.”

Mare turned slightly and her eyes roved over my body until they came to land on my face. She shrugged. “It’s not my place to tell you what you are or aren’t,” she replied. “Out of the bedroom, I’m not submissive at all. You don’t seem the type to judge people on their fetishes—”

It was my turn to snort at her. “When you’ve lived the life I have,” I said, gesturing around, “you learn that everyone has their own kinks.”

She grinned. “Too true,” she agreed. “Just as a precaution, however…” Her eyes narrowed on me and I stiffened as she stepped closer, gently reaching up to touch the front of my throat. She was shorter than me, but not by much. Yet, at the same time, I felt a sense of overwhelming danger as she stared up into my face and let her thumb stroke against my beating pulse. “Please keep in mind that anything you see or hear in this club is strictly confidential. If you want information at all on your contracted mission, you’ll do well to remember that should you seek to sell any of the information you come across tonight, you’ll make me an enemy, and Scarlett? … I’m not a good enemy to have.”

I swallowed, pushing down my sudden anxiety. I didn’t get anxious on a job, but I felt pinned by her gaze. I wasn’t a fighter. I was a thief and a runner. I couldn’t run from this—not the job, not my partners, and not her. “Understood,” I replied with a solid nod.

“Good.” She sprang back, a smile replacing the serious expression she’d been wearing. “Then let’s go greet the guys.”

She started off again, leading the way as I trailed just a step or two behind her. The club was much bigger than I’d anticipated with certain parts roped off—stages set in various places around the large industrial sized main room. Everything branching from those parts had been designed for lush extravagance. Velvet drapes and cushions were scattered across expensive and comfortable looking lounges as well as the floor. My eyes widened as I stepped to the side to allow a man to stride by with a woman on a tight leash. She was dressed in nothing but a collar, black mittens on her hands, some sort of floppy animal ear headband, and a matching black fluffy tail—what I assumed was a butt plug sticking out of her ass.

“Don’t stare,” Mare chided lightly when she noticed I wasn’t with her anymore. “It’s rude.”

I turned to her. “Don’t these people come here to be stared at?” I asked curiously.

She shook her head. “Some come to be watched,” she replied, “but not to be openly stared at like a freakish sideshow. Remember what you said earlier—everyone has their kinks. Unless you want to try puppy play?”

“Puppy play?” I repeated, frowning. I tried to think back on all of the research I’d done. Puppy play was when … oh, oh no. I shook my head immediately. “Not my thing.”

She shrugged. “You never know until you try it.”

With that, she turned back and strode off, leaving me with little recourse but to follow behind her—my curiosity mounting.

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