Page 25 of Caught Up

“Are you leaving with me?” I asked, reaching out to wrap my fingers behind the backs of her knees and pull her closer. Fuck, her skin was soft.

Her nose nearly brushed mine, pupils wide in the dim light. “Are you out of your mind? No, I’m—”

A side door opened, and a man and a woman walked through it, holding hands. The man was tall, broad, with pale skin and dark blond hair. His companion was over a foot shorter, Latine, her voluptuous curves barely contained by her red dress. Though the room was packed with people, they seemed unaware of us, their gazes drinking each other in as they slowly made their way forward.

“Junior,” Lauren whispered, drawing my gaze back to her, “you have to go.”

I shook my head, our eyes locking, my thumbs stroking the outside of her knees. “If you’re staying, I’m staying.” No fucking way was I letting her out of my sight now.

She opened her mouth to protest, but the person behind me shushed her.

I grinned and put a finger to my lips, facing forward in my seat, one hand still holding on to her because she was close enough to touch, and, miracle of miracles, was actually letting me touch her.

My triumph only lasted a second before she brushed me away and crossed her legs as if trying to put some distance between us. I schooled my face, fighting my amusement, loving that Lauren knew her worth and was going to make me work for it. I’d always preferred the thrill of the chase over the easy kill, metaphorically speaking.

Mostly.

Movement drew my gaze back to the stage. I don’t know what I’d expected. Visions of whips and chains had popped into my head, the stereotypical shit most tourists like me associated with play clubs. I figured they’d make a big show of it, be over the top and cringe. Part of me was waiting for an MC to follow the couple through the side door and make some big announcement.

None of that happened. Instead, the man led the woman to a chair beside the bed. She took a seat, and he dropped to a knee in front of her.

“Give me your feet,” he said, his voice low and intimate, like there weren’t thirty fucking people watching him.

The woman smiled mischievously and planted her high heel directly onto his chest hard enough to rock him back a few inches. He chuckled, the low sound rolling through the room, and kissed her shin before slowly starting to undo the strap around her ankle.

Soft, feminine sighs swept through the crowd at my back. Someone whispered to their neighbor close enough for me to catch the words, “That level of devotion or I don’t want him.”

I suddenly felt even more uncomfortable than I had downstairs. This was a private moment between two people who obviously cared about each other. I shouldn’t be sitting here watching it like a creep.

And yet...

I couldn’t take my eyes off them.

9

Lauren

Junior was at Velvet. Sittingin the voyeur room. Right next to me. After he’d just given me aten-year-lateapology like it was no big deal.

My brain couldn’t process what was happening. How had he found me? Had he followed me all day after church? Or had I somehow summoned him with my unholy thoughts? After this morning’s possession, I couldn’t rule out the paranormal.

I turned my head just enough toside-eyehim. Black boots. Black pants. Blackbutton-down. Paired with the black half mask and tattoos, he looked like exactly what he was: an obvious sex demon come to claim my horny soul.

I craned my neck even farther, catching Taylor’s gaze two rows back.

IS THAT HIM?shescream-mouthedat me, pointing at Junior’s back. She must have seen him walk in (matching his description to the one I’d given her earlier) and then talk to me and made a lucky guess.

I nodded, and that traitor swooned sideways into her boyfriend and started fanning herself. Jackson, a nearlyseven-foot-tallredhead who was just as unserious as his girlfriend, caught sight of me and waved emphatically, a huge grin splitting his face.

No help there.

I turned the other way and tried to find Ryan in the crowd but couldn’t spot them. Panic swirled in my belly. Junior had to leave. Now. Before thingsreallygot started. Maybe I could find some way to force him out, threaten to call the cops or something. I didn’t want him here, in my safe space. This was for me, my friends, andlike-mindedpeople, and Junior wasn’t among them. He was a ghost from my old life who ran in backward, misogynistic circles. I doubted he’d understand, let alone approve of what was about to take place.

Shit, what if he ruined this? Made some gross joke or said something offensive in the middle of the scene? Or worse,kink-shamedeveryone in here?

My face started burning with anticipatory embarrassment. I had to get rid of him.

Uncrossing my legs, I leaned over just enough to whisper, “Leave, or I’ll call in a bomb threat and blame it on you.”

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