Page 63 of Caruso
Taylor smiles shyly, and something tugs inside me. It’s an alien sensation I wonder about and I brush it aside and nod. “You look good enough to eat, angel.”
I wink and hold out my hand. “Come on, you must be starving.”
She winces as she edges toward me, and I disguise my smile. She is uncomfortable—good. I intended her to feel every mark of me inside and out for the entire night she is mine. I want her body to be ablaze with my rough attention. Bearing my mark, reminding her I exist.
We head out once again onto the street, and now Vegas is at its most vulgar. The neon lights illuminate the night sky, and music plays from every venue we pass. I hold her hand in mine possessively, glaring at anyone who dares cast an appreciative glance in her direction.
Taylor is a stunning woman, and that has been her downfall in the past, where men have sought to rip that from her, unknowing what warrior hides behind an angel’s face and body.
I love that about her, and as we walk, she says conversationally, “Where are we going?”
“There’s a place I enjoy just off the Strip. Not many visitors know it’s there, so it’s kind of exclusive.”
“In Vegas? How do they keep it secret?”
“You’ll see.” I laugh to myself as we turn the corner and head down a darker alley, leaving the lights behind as well as the noise. The only sounds now are our footsteps and the odd rustle from the dumpsters we pass.
Taylor shivers. “Is it far?”
“We’re there.” I stop in front of a beaten-up old door and enter a code in the panel, and as we push inside, Taylor gasps because the interior is nothing like the outside.
Inside is a marbled floor that stretches into the distance.
“This is a surprise.” Taylor chuckles beside me, and as I grip her hand, she whispers, “We should have dressed up.”
“We are good as we are.” I reassure her, and only when I push open the door at the end, does she accept that I’m right.
The place is loud, the music scratching against our eardrums, rendering speech impossible. There are many people dancing on a stage in the center of the room, most of them with half of their clothing hanging off their bodies as if torn away by a wild animal.
Taylor is astonished; her mouth drops as a topless waitress dressed as a showgirl passes and offers us a glass of champagne. I tear a fifty-dollar bill from my clip and stuff it into her leather pouch before handing a glass to Taylor.
“Fuck, Giorgio.” Her eyes are wide as she takes in the scene. All around us, people are making out, dancing, or cheering loudly as they watch with interest.
“What is this place?”
I say loudly in her ear. “It’s called Sodom and Gomorrah. It’s a member’s only club, and most of the people here are local or visit often.”
“Which explains the security code, I guess.”
Taylor peers around with interest as I point to another set of doors.
“The restaurant is through there.”
I pull Taylor along with me rapidly, so as not toengage, because she doesn’t know it yet, but anything goes in Sodom and Gomorrah. It’s not unusual for men to target single women and vice versa if they like what they see. The rules are to keep an open mind and to give everything a try. Not tonight, though. Tonight we are here to eat because this place has the best view in Vegas and the best food, which is why I brought her here.
The noise cuts as we close the door, and she shakes her head as she grins.
“That was an education. I never knew it was here, and I’ve been living here for four years.”
“Why would you?” I shrug. “Sorry to say this, angel, but membership is five thousand dollars a year. I’m guessing you didn’t have the means.”
“No way?” Her eyes widen. “But it’s packed. How have these people got that amount of money to burn?”
“Don’t question their means, just their choices.” I shrug. “It serves its purpose if you fancy a night with no repercussions or questions. I prefer to come here for the food.”
“You’re a strange man, Giorgio.”
She squeezes my hand tightly. “I thought you’d be all over this because you like to test boundaries and limits. I can totally see you here.”
