Chapter 9
Leeva
I lay there in a pleasure-drunken haze, not quite believing what just happened. That I came to a sex club and just had mind-blowing sex with a stranger.
He’s pure perfection as he stares down at me lying on the bed. Tall, lean, and ripped in all his naked glory. And that cock… My god.
Did I really call it a penis? I mean, that is the anatomical name for it, but I’m in a sex club for god’s sake.
And I’m going to let him do unholy things to me.
He promised to paint my skin with his cum, and damn, I’m here for it. I’m even game to try out that saddle-thing and choke on his cock while I ride it.
Desire pools in my core just at the thought, and my excitement grows.
Until he turns to go to the washroom, and I see his back.
I can only stare in shock and horror.
“Oh my god,” I whisper after he disappears into the ensuite.
The man who just gave me the best orgasm of my life…
No. No. No. He is not with the Havoc Guardians MC.
But the large tattoo sitting right between his shoulders, dark and unmistakable, begs to inform me otherwise.
A skull with a halo and a trident spearing through it, the name Havoc Guardians on the top banner and San Francisco on the bottom banner.
Panic fills me.
I just had sex with a stranger at a sex club, with a man from the MC family I ran from over a decade ago.
This can’t be happening.
I hear the water turn on in the ensuite, and it kicks me into gear. I need to get out of here before he comes back.
I don’t know who he is, I didn’t recognize his voice, but I don’t care.
I stumble off the bed, my legs still wobbly from the mind-blowing orgasm. Add in my panic and hurried movements with the stilettos, and I nearly face-plant before I catch myself.
I never should’ve come to San Francisco. But mostly, I should never have come to this sex club.
What the hell was I thinking?
I should have just ignored the constant feeling that I was missing something in my life. I should have squashed down any ideas that I might be into any kind of kinky sex. I should have just continued to pretend that I was a vanilla-sex girl.
I find my dress—if you can actually call the decadent silk that—in a pile on the floor. I pull it up and tie it around my neck as I hurry toward the door. I need to get out of here before he comes back.
I’m gone as soon as I open the door, sprinting as fast as I can in my stilettos. Cursing all my stupid life choices while I do, taking wrong turn after wrong turn. Why wasn’t I paying better attention to how we got to the private room before? And why are there so many hallways?
A door opens ahead, and I race for it, taking the bouncer by surprise as he walks into the hallway.
“Are you okay, miss?”
“Fine.” I wave him off, flying through the door.
But I stop when I notice I didn’t come into the main room of the club like I had been expecting. Instead, I’m in an empty room that has tables and chairs arranged around a stage. A hand wraps around my arm, and I jump. Spinning around, I see it’s the bouncer.
“Sorry,” he apologizes and drops his hand. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He eyes me with concern.
If I wasn’t in such a mad rush to get the hell out of here, I’d appreciate his concern and the security protocols in a place like this—sex and hedonism, but still safety.
“I’m… just late and lost track of the time,” I add a slight German accent so no one can recognize me.
Not that anyone should, because it’s been over a decade since I ran from this city.
And Hedon isn’t the Havoc Guardians’ compound, or even one of their businesses, because I researched it extensively.
I wanted to make sure none of the criminal factions in this city owned the club before I decided to try it out.
I guess that didn’t preclude them from being members, though.
I curse my stupidity again.
The bouncer chuckles softly at my comment of having lost track of time—yeah, I wonder why a person would lose track of time in a place like this—and my cheeks heat under my mask.
“Can you point me in the direction of the locker rooms?” I ask, trying to keep the frantic urgency out of my tone so he doesn’t delay me with more questions.
He points to the door in the far corner of the room. “That one leads to the ladies’ locker room.”
“Danke,” I say for added effect for my disguise, then hurry toward the door.
Will my wolf give chase?
Something about that sends a thrill down my spine and right to my toes, making them curl.
Stupid, stupid girl. You don’t want to see him again.
Oh, but my lady bits disagree entirely.
But I need to think with my brain, not my vagina.
I burst into the locker room, going directly to my assigned one.
I’m not a full-fledged member of the club yet; my membership application has been accepted, but, as the manager, Riveria, said during the intake interview, there’s a week-long trial period to make sure this is a good fit.
If both parties agree at the end of that week, they take the exorbitant sign-up fee and the even more exorbitant annual membership fee out of my account.
My fingers shake as I type in the code to my locker—Hayes’ birthday. Even after all these years, and his betrayal, I miss my best friend like I’d miss a limb.
Pushing aside the thoughts of him, because it only ever brings me pain, I open the locker and grab my phone, overcoat, and the keys to my rental car.
Then I’m racing out of there before my wolf can find me and stop me from leaving.
No one from the Havoc Guardians can know that I’m back. Not yet. Not until I’m ready to face Hayes…and definitely not before I’m ready to face Guerilla.
The Cartwright brothers have been ghosts that have haunted my soul for over a decade, and I came home to exorcise them—to finally move on and heal.
But in the meantime, you can enjoy that wolf and let him continue to guide you into the world of dark, dirty sex.
No, that is a very stupid idea.
My vagina is singing his praises, though, and protesting the idea of not ever being touched by him again.
Shaking my head, I run out into the night, jump into my car, and speed away to the safety of my hotel.
Knowing full well that I’ll be masturbating to relieve the protesting ache between my thighs.