Page 5 of Velvet Secrets

“Sin?” I repeated. “That’s your real name?”

“Naw.” He shook his head. “It’s just usually the only part of me that shows up.” He leaned closer into the table—that cocky, sinfully sexy smile in place. “And it usually gets what it wants.”

Heat coursed through my body hearing his name and little explanation behind it because his words were loaded, but I managed to keep my composure.

“Again,Sin, why are you here?”

“I told you—I go where I need to.” He let his words settle before he continued. “And tonight I needed to be sittinghereacross fromyou.”

“That’s a pretty line, Sin, but I don’t participate.”

He chuckled, sitting back in his seat, then repeating, “you don’t participate.”

“No. Observation only. It’s the rule.”

Velvet Secrets was mine. Every whisper that danced through the walls, every moan muffled behind velvet drapes, every secret spilled in the dark—it all belonged to me. The scent, the lighting,the carefully chosen shadows; it was my creation, my power, my playground.

And by my golden rule, I never played.

Watching was enough.

Controlling it from behind the scenes was enough.

Until he walked in. A stranger with heat in his eyes and temptation in his smile. For the first time, I toyed with the idea of breaking it.

“The clubs rule or yours?”

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t participate.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because I own the place.”

There was a glimmer in his eye.

A look.

One that said he might know something that I didn’t.

“Why are yousittinghere, beautiful?”

“Curiosity.” I admitted after his clarification.

He nodded slowly. “That’s usually where it starts.”

I angled my head to the side. “You think I’m going to make an exception?”

“I think,” he leaned in closer, careful to maintain eye contact with me, “you already have.”

CHAPTER 3

When I made the initial decision to come here it was simply to observe. When I read Avani’s name on the deed I immediately wanted to know who the woman was because her name alone had me intrigued. I knew she was sexy because on the ride over I looked her up on google and social media, but her pictures did her true beauty no justice. She was a bombshell.

I made it my business to admire every inch of her before she even realized that I was watching her and I enjoyed the view even more as she sauntered toward me. Every piece of her was intentional—the tailored blazer with nothing underneath it, the shorts that dared eyes to lower but warned hands not to follow. The way she sat—long, toned legs crossed, like nothing could touch her unless she allowed it. She was for sure the kind of woman men ruined themselves behind trying to possess.

She was lethal.

Her chocolate skin was rich, smooth and expensive. The kind of tone that was unforgettable once you saw it up close. Her full lips rested in a slight curve that hinted at amusement or danger, maybe both. And her eyes… dark and sharp, watching me just ashard as I was watching her—like she didn’t trust me but she also couldn’t look away.

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