Page 14 of Masked Sins
“Um, what are you doing?” I ask as he reaches around and opens the door for me as I slip my second arm into my coat.
“Walking you home,” he says matter-of-factly.
I roll my eyes and look up at him. “Thanks, but I’m perfectly fine walking alone.” He smells like…home. This close, I can see the yellow specks in his crystal-blue eyes.
His jaw hardens, and he nods once. “Fine.”
I push the door open and begin walking, huffing out a frustrated sigh as I go. It’s not until I’m a few houses down that I hear a rumbling sound behind me. Twisting around, I see Orion slowly trailing me on his motorcycle.
“I said I was fine,” I yell, glaring at him.
He flips the visor up, and I get a peek at his playful smirk. “You said I couldn’t walk you home. You never said I couldn’t follow you some other way.” He snaps the visor back in place and continues trailing me.
And thatfreakinghelmet… combined with that fitted leather jacket and his thick thighs hugging the seat of his bike…
I’ve been watching too many hot biker videos and imagining Orion with his tattoos and that helmet, gripping his handles, flexing those muscles, watching those veins in his arms pop.
I curl my fists inside my pockets as I walk up my driveway, not even looking back at Orion as I let myself inside.
The roar of his bike reverberates through the neighborhood, and I smile as I lock my door and reach down to pet Sparrow.
“What a jerk,” I whisper, thinking of my stepbrother.
CHAPTER TWO
THE INFERNO
Orion
My boots thud heavily against the wood floors as I do a final walk-through of my new club. Neil, the builder—an older man in his fifties—waits patiently in the corner of the room.
Though he’d never admit he’s nervous, his feet shuffling every few seconds tells me something entirely different. Despite using him for my other two locations, the Ravage last name still makes people jumpy. Stella, my sister-in-law married to my second-eldest brother, Miles, had done a good job telling everyone how wonderful our family was to anyone who would listen. She’d smoothed over a massive public relations shit show a couple of years ago, but our reputation still tainted almost every aspect of our lives.
“This is great,” I tell Neil as I face him.
He visibly sags and lets out a quick breath, like he was expecting me to say something else.
I’m used to it now, but I hate that my family name still weighs on me, even today.
“Amazing.” He bends down and grabs his work bag. All his workers have left already upon completing the club, and he gives it a once-over. “It’s a strange setup for a bar,” he muses, completely aloof as his eyes wander upstairs before they shoot to the door that leads down to the basement.That’s because it’s not a bar,I think. “But seeing as this is number three, you must know what you’re doing.”
I chuckle. “Or maybe I’ve just gotten lucky thus far.” I glance at the basement door. “This one will be a bit different from the other places.”
“Right. Well, I’ll have Barbara send the bill on Monday. Maybe I’ll take the missus for a night out when it opens.”
I smile and nod, thinking of Neil and hismissushere when I unveil the kinkier sides of the club. Who knows what kinds of things they’re into—maybe they’d enjoy it. Being in the lifestyle had taught me that kinksters came in all shapes, sizes, ages, ethnicities, and backgrounds.
“Of course. Have a good weekend, Neil.”
Once I hear the front door close, I do another walk-through of the club, ensuring it’s all set up before I bring the furniture in and start training the staff. I take another quick tour of the upstairs—or what will be known asParadise. Then I walk down into the dungeon—or what will be known asPurgatory.
The building hasn’t been used since the 1950s, and before that, it was an old lumberyard just on the outskirts of downtown Crestwood, California. Instead of rooms for different kinks, I’d chosen to keep it simple. Those seeking or wanting to give pleasure could go upstairs toParadise.
And those seeking to receive or administer pain—like me—could go toPurgatory.
It was a choose-your-own-adventure club with the same exclusivity that my brother, Chase, used with The Hunt. Though I wasn’t into the primal kink like he was, I liked the idea ofstarting small and growing. I don’t want to exclude people, but I also know that running a place like this will mean ensuring everyone—from the employees to the invited guests—stays safe.
From the outside, it will be a nondescript building. The bar itself will be calledInferno.Upon entering, customers must be vetted by the community or personally known to me. Unlike most clubs that require membership and ID, this venue ensures only trusted individuals are allowed in. Once inside, guests are shown through a coat room to the main bar area, where they can choose to go upstairs or downstairs, depending on their mood.
