Page 5 of The Games We Play

I only agreed to help Ember with the opening. We’re just extra security due to the nature of the club and all the protestors. I know she intends to hire a permanent team for their special events, and I’m going to suggest to her that she thoroughly vets each individual team member. They should be tested in a live environment, as well.

I know there will be nights with rowdy couples or jealous rages, and you need guys who can not only ignore their baser instincts, but proactively spot the start of that kind of behavior before it’s too late.

As I turn to head toward the next section, a delicate hand caresses my forearm. I peer down at the bright, neon pink nail polish that is connected to the fingers that is now wrapped around my suit jacket. I trail my eyes up, taking in the features of the woman next to me. Her face is flushed behind her crooked mask as another woman explores her neckline with her tongue, gropes her breasts through her thin, skin tight dress.

“Want to join us?” she asks, all breathy and desperate.

“No.”

I step out of her grasp and make my way over to the third room. It is most definitely for the more experienced couples—a full blown red room with bondage galore. It has a smaller crowd.Not because there aren’t as many people with this kink, but it’s hard to make your way through when you have two other rooms to get preoccupied with.

It’s like the crowd in all three rooms have been frozen in time, with the exception of a few couples groping each other or some solo individuals secretly touching themselves. It’s easy to spot movement out of the corner of my eye with how still everything is. A body slinks off behind the thick, black curtain that separates the voyeur rooms from the private rooms. There is supposed to be an employee or security standing guard there, but there is no one to be seen.

Scanning the area, I catch the side of the mask marked with the red X, indicating an employee. They’ve made their way to the corner of the glass window, peering in to see the show.

Shaking my head, mentally noting to deal with that later, I make my way through the thick, black-out curtain and peer down the long hallway, following the figure. There are six doors that lead into separate private rooms.

A woman walks carefully down the hall. A pale glow casts over her body as she passes by the light that hangs over each door, creating a shadow on the ground. Her perfect, hourglass outline paints the floor as she tiptoes through the hallway.

My eyes trail over her white dress. It’s brighter than everything that surrounds her due to the contrast of the dark room and I’m easily drawn to the curves of her hips and the strong lines of her legs.

Members can reserve and pay to use the rooms, however, you need a keycard to enter. She might have one, but the way she snuck past the curtain and her current body language leads me to doubt that.

I hold my position and observe her for a moment. She appears to just be curious, but she shouldn't be back here.

Steadily and silently, I make my way toward her as shereaches the last door—room six. It’s at the end of the hall, and there is nowhere to go except past me to get out.

This is the only room not operational tonight, but for some reason, the door is cracked open.

She slows, as do I, placing her palm gently on the door, tilting her head to peek through the crack. Her high cheekbones are apparent in her profile, and I can see that the contours of her jawline and nose are absolutely stunning, even though the mask covers half her face. It’s silky and white to match her dress, but has feathers over the top that move as freely as she does.

She’s so absorbed in the moment, she doesn’t hear me creep up behind her. Her long, black hair falls forward over one of her shoulders as she leans toward the crack of the door, the other half lay loosely over her back.

The thin straps of her dress cross over her upper back and connect to the fabric of her silky, white dress. It’s loose and lays low on her back, fitting snugly around her perfectly, peach-shaped ass.

I don’t normally find myself interested in women sneaking around sex clubs, but there is definitely something about this one.

Pulling myself out of the distraction that is her gorgeous ass, I voice my presence—my tone deep and commanding. “What are you doing?”

She jumps with a squeal, turning around urgently and backing up against the wall.

“Oh my God, you scared me.” Her hand is splayed out over her chest. The silky material on this side of her dress is tight around her waist, but hangs loosely over her breasts, exposing the channel between them.

My eyes naturally follow the fabric of the upside down triangle that ends just above her belly button, then back up to her eyes.

My breath catches in my throat and my heartbeat stutters.

Perfect, almond-shaped eyes, the color of the richest dark chocolate, stare back at me through the holes in her mask. I’d recognize those eyes any place, any time, in the darkest of rooms.

“Mimi?” I whisper.

2

SEAMUS

“Mimi?”

Her name bounces off the walls between us.

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