The elevator doors opened to reveal a floor unlike the rest of the hotel. Decorated in dark wood, red velvet brocade and gold accents, it could very well have been tacky, but due to Flynn’s style and eye, it all blended together to give an old-style saloon feel.
Beautiful women clad in silk dresses, not at all revealing, but somehow still provocative, walked around the room engaging men in conversation and laughter. There was a mixer of some sort going on. Champagne flowed and wallets opened. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man lean toward an escort’s ear and whisper something. She smiled widely, took his hand, and led him away, no doubt to a more private setting.
“You’re lovely,” a voice said next to me. I turned, taking in the man. Suit, graying dark hair at the temples, brown eyes.
“Thank you,” I said absently.
“Can I get you a drink?”
“No.” My gaze searched the room, looking for Lacey, but I didn’t see her. Not through the haze of cigar smoke.
The man took two flutes of champagne from a maneuvering waiter and attempted to hand me one. “I’m good, really,” I said.
“And here I thought all the ladies at The Rex Hotel were the same.” There was a hint of a smile on his mouth.
I was not in the mood to be charming or flirtatious. “Excuse me, I’m looking for someone.”
“Aren’t we all,” he said, raising his flute to me in a silent toast. It took all of my effort not to roll my eyes. As I moved away from him in search of Lacey, I watched him turn to the nearest woman and offer her the extra champagne glass.
I snorted. Why bother with a challenge when a sure thing was a few feet away?
Leaving the main room, I went down the hallway. Even through the closed doors, I heard the sounds of fucking. I’d never call it love making, even if the men held the women after. I didn’t care what they did, how women earned their money, or how the men spent theirs. That wasn’t for me to judge.
Another hallway intersected the main one, and I wondered if I’d find Lacey down that way.
“I’ll fucking take what I want,” I heard a voice growl. Familiar.
Brad.
“Do you want me to do that?” he asked.
A woman whimpered, not in pain, but in complete and total arousal. “Please,” she begged.
Lacey.
Lacey and Brad!
From the shadows, I could see he had her pushed up against the wall, one of her legs wrapped around him. One of his hands held both of hers hoisted above her head, the other was skating down her body, coming to rest between them. She threw her head back, the sound of her skull smacking against the wall.
I jumped and then scurried back the way I’d come like a twitchy little rodent. What the hell was going on?
As I waited for the elevator car, I pulled out my phone and pressed speed dial two. He answered on the first ring.
“Want to go for a walk?” I asked.
Chapter 53
Sasha and I strolled around a snow-covered Central Park, talking about everything and nothing. I told him about how I’d met Flynn, about my estranged brother offering me in lieu of his monetary debt.
For some reason, I could speak to Sasha in a way that I couldn’t speak to anyone, like I didn’t have to guard my words or pretend to be anyone other than who I was. He let me be the fractured parts of myself, the made-up puzzle of pieces that didn’t yet all fit together. And he didn’t expect me to reconcile anything. And he never acted as though I was defiled or broken because of what had occurred with Dolinsky.
An hour before dawn, I crawled into bed next to Flynn and woke him up by sliding my naked body on top of his. I took from him what I needed, but he didn’t complain, and because he was Flynn, he gave it to me.
Falling into an exhausted sleep, I awakened a few hours later, bleary-eyed and in need of coffee. Flynn was gone from our suite and while I waited for the coffee to brew, I called Ash.
“What happened between you and Duncan?” I demanded.
“Good morning to you, too.”