Page 9 of Surrender

Ben laughs good-naturedly. "Oh my God, that's perfect. The virgin and the sex club." He goes to wipe a tear.

"And I'd appreciate it if you kept that information to yourself," I growl through clenched teeth.

"Oh, honey. You know I can't do that." He gives me a mockingly sympathetic look. I should be mad, but it's not reallya big deal. He can tell whoever he wants. Maybe it's better if it's out and over with.

I groan and roll my eyes before walking back to the three men who intimidate me the most. I gently place their glasses in front of them, slightly to the right of each, so it'll be easier to reach, assuming they're all right-handed. Shit. Are they? I check the men for watches to see what wrist they're wearing them on for clues. Suddenly, I feel them staring at me. I clear my throat and bring my tray to my chest as if I can hide behind it.

"Anything else, s..." I was about to say 'sirs', but Benji's warning stopped me. I didn't want them to get the wrong idea about me. Or get turned on by me. I like floating under the radar, not noticeable. I'd prefer these men forget I exist, but the way they're all staring at me makes me feel like that's unlikely.

"How are you liking your first day?" Daniel asks. He's the friendly one of the group.

I take a deep breath in and out before answering. "I like it so far. It's... not what I expected. But it's good."Shut up, Ser. Shut up before you say something stupid.

"Your shift ends at three am. Wait for me by the front doors and I'll drive you home."

The look I give him must be one of pure panic.

"Myhome," he corrects. My shoulders relax. I'm nervous about going home with a strange man, but I figure if he owns a sex club, and presumably can have any of the unhinged kinky sex he wants right here every night for free, I'm not in danger.

Declan must have told Harrison the story because he's now looking at me with a mixture of pity and anger. I swallow thickly. I hate it. I hate his pity, but what choice do I have?

Suddenly, a hand slides across my shoulders, causing me to jump, before the feminine scent of citrus flowers envelopes me while Madame tucks me into her side.

"How's our little Serenity doing tonight?"

I stare at the floor in front of me.

The gentlemen don't answer, so I do. "Well, Madame. Thank you."

They all exchange glances, some sort of silent communication happening around me that makes me want to crawl out of my skin.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Volkov has just arrived. Just wanted to give you the head's up."

I notice Declan stiffen before he nods.

"I'll just..." I say, edging away from Madame. My attention is dragged to the front of the room where a tall man with salt and pepper hair cut in a military fashion just entered. He has a scar running down the length of his face, through his eye, and across his upper lip, giving him an almost permanent scowl. This man makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. His entire demeanor screams predator, dangerous.

He stands at the entrance and surveys the scene.

I watch in fascination as every voice in the room quiets and all eyes follow him. His lips tilt up in a grin. He knows everyone in the room is watching him. I have no idea what he's doing here. He seems far too intimidating for any woman or man to hook up with. He gives off vibes like he would be violent in bed.

I cringe as he walks through the room and takes a seat at one of the tables in my section. I grab my notebook and pencil from the bar.

I walk towards him to take his order, but a hand reaches out and wraps around my wrist. I look down and am surprised to see it's Declan.

"Watch yourself around him. He's dangerous."

"I see that," I say, tugging my wrist free. I stifle my annoyance. I am already terrified of this man. I don't need to be reminded. Clearly, he can't be that bad if they're allowing him to continuecoming to the club, right? If he were violent or dangerous, they would have revoked his membership. Right?

I approach the stranger's table, eyes cast down. "Can I get you anything to drink, Mr. Volkov?" Mindy said using their names is always a good move because it makes them feel important and special. Which means they usually tip better. I didn't know anyone else's name, but I would learn them the longer I worked here.

The Russian doesn't reply. His steel-blue eyes leisurely walk their way up and down my body. Declan, Daniel and Harrison, all checked me out, but not like this. This feels intimate, and violating. I can feel my body start to shake.

"Sir?" I ask, my voice cracking. I finally raise my eyes to his, in hopes I can spur him into action.

"What is your name?" he asks, in a thick Russian accent.

"Serenity, sir."

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