Page 5 of Hard Ride
Inside the club, it’s less mansion and more Moulin Rouge, with low lighting, red velvet couches, a long wooden bar, and lots of alcoves with red velvet curtains.
It’s luxurious, giving off decadent vibes, and again, not what I expected a sex club to be like. Especially with all the apparently normal people standing around, all in business casual, midriff tops, and cocktail dresses.
I could have been in any high-priced Manhattan bar.
I mean, that was until a small woman in a corset dress and sky-high stilettos, her black hair in ponytail on the top of her head, started strutting over to the stage, and I noticed the naked woman in handcuffs kneeling on it waiting for her.
I’d been studiouslynotlooking at the stage before that — Laurel had been too busy downloading her excitement to me anyway — and so it was only when the crowd started pushing towards it that I’d taken a sneaky glimpse and noticed the man standing in the middle of the crowd of people wearing white bracelets.
Tall, over six two. Wearing dark blue pants with a white business shirt, the top few buttons undone. His hair under the lights was a dark tawny, streaks of gold and toffee threaded through it, and he was to-die-for-beautiful. A fallen angel’s face.
I remembered that face. Impossible to forget. The light to Tate’s dark, his best friend and mine, and the huge complication in our marriage.
Lucas.
I’d frozen on my barstool, absolutely in shock, barely processing his presence, and he must have sensed me looking, because abruptly, he glanced in my direction.
And I’d felt the impact of his stare like a blow, the same kind of impact I’d experienced back in the bar, when I’d seen Tate’s picture. His eyes had widened with shock, flaring brilliant gold, and then just as quickly, they’d narrowed.
I panicked, not going to lie, and I’m still panicking as I head away from the stage, into a dimmer, darker area of the club. Laurel is calling my name, but I don’t turn. I just want to get away.
It’s a dumb move because the exit is now behind me, and I should have run in that direction, because surely Lucas wouldn’t have chased me out onto the street. We only shared a fleeting glimpse of each other, and that might not have been recognition on his face at all. Maybe he was just shocked to see someone so determinedly vanilla in the club or something?
Then again, who knows? One thing’s for sure. If he’s here, then Tate must be here too.
I’m hoping there’s a door down this way, to the bathrooms or offices or something that I could slip through, but there doesn’t seem to be any exits, fuck it. There’s a dark alcove, though, so maybe I could hide myself in a corner of it.
Except now I’m getting closer, I see a man sitting there, and he’s rising slowly to his feet, and he’s so tall, so fucking tall. He’s wearing an immaculate three-piece suit in a dark gray, with a white shirt and a blue silk tie, and he stands there almost as if he’s waiting for me, immovable as a mountain.
And my body knows exactly who this is, even as it takes a couple of seconds for my brain to catch up, because I feel an intense rush of fear, desire, anger, and happiness all rolled into one.
It’s Tate, and my feet are still moving, and I can’t seem to stop them until I’m right at the alcove, and he’s in front of me. That face I saw a mere couple of hours ago on Laurel’s screen is rightthere.Roughly handsome, with a hard, gritty edge. A mouth that feels softer than it looks. Black hair and beard. And forbidding, my God,soforbidding.
He looks like a dark god crafted by an ancient civilization.
An avenging god.
I’m so fucked.
He says nothing, simply gazes at me, and I realize then that the picture on the app hasn’t done him justice. It captured only a fraction of his…presence. His charisma. The intense force of what I can only assume is his authority.
It hits me like a wave, and my instinctive response is to turn around and run like hell back the way I came. Except when I turn, I discover that following right behind me is Lucas, amber eyes blazing, broad shoulders completely blocking my view of the exit. He stops and folds his muscular arms, standing there like a beautiful golden wall.
“Katherine,” Tate says from behind me, his familiar voice somehow darker, more gravelly, and much more certain than I remember. “Please, sit down.”
I feel cornered, hunted. I’m trapped like prey between two lions, both of whom could tear me apart so easily. Whodidtear me apart years ago, and it took me a good couple of years to get over them. But Iamover them, and even though it’s too late to pretend they haven’t seen me or apparently forgotten me, I’m not going to run like a coward. I couldn’t handle either of them back when I was younger, but I’m not the same woman I was back then. I’m stronger, more sure of myself, and I’m not confused about my feelings, not anymore. Also, if either of them tries any of that Dom shit on me, I’ll kick them in the nuts.
I take a moment to push the panic away and collect myself, then I smirk at Lucas before turning around to face my ex-husband.
“Tate,” I say dryly. “Fancy meeting you here.”
He doesn’t smile. The light is so dim that the green of his eyes is lost, but I see them glitter. “Yes,” he says. “Likewise. Like I said, please, sit.”
“No, thank you.” I’m glad at how steady my voice is. “I’m only here with my friend. We’re going in a minute.”
Tate looks past me, towards the bar area, then his gaze comes back to mine again. “Your friend is watching Mistress Nell on the stage. She’s more than happy.”
I turn around again, trying to spot Laurel, but Lucas prowls closer, and I can’t see past him. Strangely, my heart is still racing, and my entire body feels suddenly alive and alert. It’s as if it knows I’m in danger, yet I’m not afraid. There’s a kind of breathless anticipation rushing through me instead, and I have no idea why.
