Page 9 of Sensation Fantasies 1
Booker smirked. “How about we see if you like the club first, mate?”
Ward laughed and watched a couple walk up the stairs and past us after getting out of a Mercedes. “Right.”
“So”—Peyton turned to me—“do you two just want to go in on your own and do your own thing, or do you want us to show you around?”
I looked over at Ward. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. It was all foreign to me. “Do we need to be shown around?”
Peyton shook her head. “Nope. You just need to stay on the first level or go to the pool area. You can’t go into any rooms. Those all depend on your membership, which you don’t have.”
“Right.”
“We don’t want to impose on whatever you two have planned,” Ward stated. “I think Kiera and I can manage.”
Peyton grinned. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Let’s get you two inside.”
We followed Peyton and Booker up the stairs. After Luke, the door guy, checked us off of his list, we entered through the French doors and into a foyer that had a coat check. We checked our purses and phones, and then Booker and Peyton turned to us, their hands on a black velvet drape.
“Ready?” Peyton asked.
Ward grabbed my hand and laced our fingers. We smiled at each other, and then I said, “Ready.”
Peyton and Booker pulled open the curtain, and my husband and I stepped through and into a red-hued room. Music hit my ears as well as the sounds of moans and groans and ecstasy. It had a nightclub vibe—but with added entertainment.
“Wow,” I breathed. “I guess people don’t wait around.”
Ward chuckled. “I guess not.”
“Peyton said there were bars around. Maybe we should get a drink then … look around?” I suggested.
We stepped farther in, and Peyton and Booker passed by us as though they didn’t know who we were. That was probably for the best. I didn’t want to see my co-worker having sex with her husband, who was also on the opposite side of some of my cases.
Or did I?
No, I didn’t.
Or maybe I did.
Ward guided me, still holding my hand as we walked through what I assumed was a living room. Adjacent was an open room with bookshelves galore. It appeared to be a study. People were kissing, touching, and more, and I felt my breathing labor slightly as desire started to flow through my body. How was I already turned on?
We found a bar, and after waiting in line, Ward ordered a whiskey neat for himself, and a vodka cranberry for me. The entire time, I looked around, taking everything in, and I briefly wondered where our group from the limo had run off to. That was until my gaze landed on none other than Vaughn, lead guitarist of Flirting with Fire. I didn’t know his last name—all I knew was he could play guitar like how I assumed he could work a woman’s body. He was easy on the eyes with dirty-blond hair that was as long as my own hair, and a light beard that I imagined would feel like heaven between my legs.
As I stared at him, I realized he had his beautiful hair up into a bun and not long and flowing as I had seen in several music videos. I knew—given what Peyton had told me and because we signed an NDA—that there would be celebrities at Sensation. I just hadn’t realizedwhothose celebrities would be.
“Isn’t that …?” Ward asked as he handed me my drink.
I quickly looked to see that he was looking at Vaughn too. “Yep.”
“Wow,” he breathed. “I wonder who else we’ll see.”
“Me too,” I agreed and took a sip of my cocktail. “Should we just … I don’t know, stand against a wall or something?”
“Or we can go look around. Peyton said we can look at everything on the first floor and the pool. I’d imagine that means”—he pointed toward the windows—“the pool is that way.”
“Okay.” I took one final look at Vaughn as he stood with a few people talking before Ward and I went outside.
The doors led to the pool area. People were already in the pool, but they werenotswimming. Even though it was LA and May, nighttime wasn’t warm enough, in my opinion, for a swim. It had to be heated. From what I could tell, the lawn was well manicured.
Just beyond the pool, the foundation dropped slightly, and a set of stairs led to another pool that was surrounded by cabanas and heat lamps that were keeping some of the surrounding areas warm. The cabanas were empty, but I assumed that was because people hadn’t migrated to them yet. Each one had pillows, blankets, and a basket of towels next to them. I wasn’t sure if the towels were for the pool or to clean up—or both.
