Page 55 of Boardwalk Kings

My eyebrows rose in disbelief. "Tying women up is an art form?" I laughed. "Are you serious?"

He nodded. "Don't laugh. People who are into this take it seriously."

"Do you like it?"

Angelo’s hand ran up my stomach and over my breasts, feeling every inch of me. "You want me to tie you up, college girl?"

"I'm just asking a question. All of this is new to me."

"As I said, this is an art form. I don't have the time or the interest to learn it." He squeezed my ass, lifting me off the ground. "But I can tie you up with my belt. Ties. Rope. Whatever I can find. It doesn't have to be pretty like this."

The idea of Angelo binding me to his bed excited me. He was deranged, a killer. Not long ago, he pushed a man off a balcony because he touched me. Angelo Luciano was a bad man and not some white knight who would be there to save the day.

But I wanted him.

I wanted this.

Licking my lips, I met his wild gaze. His eyes flickered with insanity like he was seconds from devouring me.

"Can I see the other rooms?"

He gripped my shoulder and led me down the hallway, past a group of men with beautiful women in their arms.

"Do the men bring women?"

"Most men come here for the experience. They're looking to get away from their wives and girlfriends." His hand traveled down to my ass. “Some couples come together. You can't walk into my club off the street. Our clients undergo a strict application process, sign waivers and NDAs, take weekly STD tests, and pay a lot of money for the privilege of coming here."

"How much do you charge?"

"Depends what they want. We have different membership levels." He made a left down another hallway. "Some people only want to watch. Others want to perform or participate. We have men and women who only come here to fuck and leave."

"What do most people do?"

He rolled his broad shoulders. "It depends on their preferences. I pay little attention to the clients."

"So, what do you do?"

Angelo stopped in front of the third door on our right. "I'm here to keep our clients in line. They need a reminder of who owns this club." He tipped his head at the door. "Before we go in, you need to decide. Voyeur or participant."

"What's in the room?"

I tried to peek, and Angelo pulled me into his chest, curling his arm around me. "Which one is it, beautiful? Because in this room, I like to do both. And you're choosing one."

"Oh, am I?"

I tried to hide my smile and failed.

He pulled down my bottom lip with his thumb, staring at my mouth like he wanted to bite me. "Choose."

"Voyeur, I guess." My pulse quickened to an abnormal rate, the constant thump in my neck driving me crazy. "But what's inside?"

He opened the door and shoved me through it with laughter in his voice. "After you."

ChapterTwenty-Three

ANGELO

Ava looked like a scared little lamb, biting her lip as she entered the dark room. The only light came from the soft green glow cast over the stage. Men bent women over a cushioned table and slapped them with paddles and whips. They had hands tied behind their backs, cheeks pressed to the table, moaning with each whack.

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