Page 46 of DeLucas After Dark

I watch closely as she glances nervously around, fidgeting with the ring of the black leather choker at her throat. I would love to wrap my hands around her lovely neck and squeeze to see those large, brown, almond-shaped eyes widen.

Several sets of eyes turn her way, but she ignores them all. A blonde waitress wearing a black leather catsuit bites her bottom lip before sucking one long, red talon into her mouth. She makes her way to me, briefly blocking my sole attraction.

“Is there anything that I can get for you, sir,” she asks hesitantly.

I don’t answer. Instead, I turn my drink up and finish it, setting the empty glass back on the table beside me. She grabs the glass and heads back out of the room towards the bar.

I keep watching as the mystery woman works her way through the crowded bar, moving to a set of double doors to the left of the bar.

Scanning a VIP card, she pushes the smoky black glass double doors open and makes her way into the exclusive lounge that I occupy. The music here is more subtle, sexier, and conducive to having sex. Zayn’sPillowtalksets the mood for something more sensual.

I train my eyes on the woman who has caught my attention.

She glances to the right at a St. Andrews cross, taking up one corner of the room where a Dom canes a woman strapped to the cross.

Though she’s turned slightly away from me as she watches the caning, I see her arousal in the pebbled nipples underneath the sheer, long-sleeved, black lace dress she wears. I see when her mouth parts slightly, and I know that the sight turns her on. It amuses me to think that she might be a pain slut. Her fists clench and unclench, and her breathing seems to deepen for several seconds. This isn’t an environment that she’s familiar with. She’s a virgin to this lifestyle.

Then, as if she remembers that she’s here for a purpose, she closes her eyes and inhales deeply. Slowly, her gaze turns away from the couple at the cross until she spots the platform bed raised by chains where two men and a woman are acting out a scene.

This time, she turns her gaze away a little swifter as she looks around the room, observing couples in various stages of flirtation or play. Then, finally, her eyes land on me just as the waitress returns with my drink.

“Thank you,” I mutter as the waitress walks away.

The mystery woman saunters my way with a confident look in her walk, but it fails to reach her eyes. I pull my drink back up to my lips again as I watch her, never allowing our gazes to break.

“Are you reserving this seat for someone?”

“If I were, that’s all changed now.”

She glances at me and smiles just as the waitress returns, taking her order. The waitress smiles flirtingly at me, and I feel the woman’s eyes on me. I turn towards her, and I ask, “Why did it take you so long to find me?”

“You presume I was looking for you,” she remarks coyly.

“And yet,” I say, turning to eye her up and down, “here you are.”

She looks around. Shrugging, she says, “You’re the only detached man in the place. Some of them are paired with one woman, while others are having orgies.”

“Is that not your thing?”

“I don’t know what my thing is yet. I did notice that you’re sitting alone. Is that your thing?”

“Orgies? No.”

“Then why are you alone?”

“Do you think that was by accident?”

She bites her lip worriedly as the waitress returns with her drink.

“No. I don’t,” she says, sipping her Cosmopolitan.

“Your choice of drink says a lot about you,” I observe.

“Oh? What does this say about me?”

“That you’re a sophisticated woman with complex layers. You’re intrigued by its stunning beauty and pulled in by its enchanting taste. Your drink has a clean base and a sweetness with a hint of sour.”

“So, you’re saying that I’m a superficial woman with convoluted tastes?”

---