Page 17 of Fragments
Okay. I guess that means I’m in…
Following the direction my old pal went, I wander inside the dark club, my face tilting all around to take in my surroundings. It’s a bit larger than some of the other clubs in the area, and every bit as deserted as I assumed it’d be. Still, there’s music playing, deep bass thumping, and the dulled glow of teal lights creating a strange ambience.
My eyes lock on the familiar body, dressed in his usual tailored business attire, as he makes a beeline toward the back of the club. He goes through another door, but it closes before I can get there, cutting off my view. I reach, but someone steps in front of me.
“You lost?” a guy asks, raising a dark brow at my face.
He looks to be in his late thirties, early forties, attractive, with a tanned complexion and light eyes. He’s wearing an expensive suit, oozing attitude, which leads me to believe he must work here.
“No,” I grunt, matching his snark with my own. “I’m meeting someone.”
He glowers at me, clearly not buying my bullshit. “Really? Who?”
“None of your fucking business,” I reply calmly.
“Actually, itismy fucking business,” he says, tipping his chin. “That area’s for members only.”
“My boyfriend is a member,” I state with confidence. “And he’s going to tear you a new one when he finds out you’re holding me up with your meaningless power trip.”
The man’s gaze narrows, lips quirking subtly. “What’s your name?”
I pause for a moment, holding his eyes. “Ren.”
His gaze slides over me, slowly, then he places his hand on my waist, guiding me away from the door. “Let me buy you a drink, Ren.”
“I want to go back there,” I mumble, swallowing the yearning clawing me inside as I allow this stranger to walk me in the opposite direction of the mystery door.
“In due time,” he sighs, bringing me to the bar.
I take a seat, and he sits down next to me, addressing a bartender I definitely didn’t notice when I first walked in. He’s gorgeous—muscles for days—and dressed in only some tiny black shorts. It’s pretty standard attire for employees of the clubs around here, but with one key difference… The black leather cuffs around his wrists. My interest is instantly piqued.
So it’s some kind of BDSM club.
I suppose it would make sense… Mr. Kade did like to do bad things behind closed doors.
Before I can even tell the bartender what I want to drink, he returns with two cocktails of a vibrant teal color, garnished with cherries.
I stare at the glass for a moment, and the man slides it closer to me. So I carelessly pick it up and take a sip, while he does the same. The drink is actually delicious, though I still can’t decipher what kind of booze it is.
Likely noting the confusion on my face, the stranger says, “It’s our signature cocktail. Pretty good, right?”
“What is this place?” I ask, wanting information more than I want to chit-chat about the fucking drinks. “A sex club? A bathhouse?”
The man smirks at me, settling into his seat. “I thought you said yourboyfriend—”
“Just tell me,” I cut him off with a huff.
His smile widens. “Why do you want to know?”
“Because…” I murmur. “I’m interested.”
He blinks at me. “How old are you?”
Jesus Christ… answer a fucking question already.
“Twenty-two,” I lie effortlessly.No surprise there.
His eyes travel over me again. “Did you come from the gym or something?”
