Chapter 18
Leeva
I sit on the bed in my hotel room, staring at the dress hanging on the closet door. It’s gorgeous…and completely scandalous.
It’s a sleeveless, crimson-red gown made of delicate, hollowed-out lace; however, all my lady bits would be covered. The slit comes up so high that any sudden move would reveal my pussy, though. And the front plunges decadently deep, the material barely covering my nipples.
I’ve been staring at the dress for the past thirty minutes, trying to tell myself that I’m not putting it on. And I’m definitely not going to wear it to Hedon.
I’m not going to Hedon at all.
No. No. Absolutely not.
I’ve resisted the urge for two days. I’ve hardly left my hotel suite, stealing away like a recluse, because each time I do leave, I have to fight the insane urge to go to Hedon.
I’ve thought non-stop about my masked man. My wolf.
I’ve dreamt of him, feeling like he’s physically present, whispering filthy thoughts into my ear and ejaculating on me. I wake up intensely aroused.
I want him so badly that when I wake, I feel like my skin is coated in his cum. I swear I can even smell his phantom scent on me when I shower, and it mixes with the smell of my own arousal. It’s heady and intoxicating.
My phone rings, startling me out of my lustful thoughts with a jolt.
I lean over to grab it. Seeing who is video calling me, I double down on pushing away all my inappropriate thoughts.
Talking, especially on video, with my stepdaughter while those thoughts linger is not on my bingo card today, thank you very much.
“Hello, Urs.” I greet her with a smile. “Always the early bird. How are you doing?”
It’s almost nine in the evening here, but it’s early morning in Berlin. She’s already at her desk, looking sharp and posh, her blonde hair sleekly pulled back.
To most, she’s an ice queen, but her blue eyes soften as she smiles at me. “It’s good to see you. We miss you.”
“Did your brother get you to call because he’s worried about me?”
I talked to Keifer again yesterday, and he didn’t like that I was hiding away in my suite. Of course, I couldn’t tell him the real reason I was essentially barricading myself in here.
“Hiding from your problems won’t solve them, Leeva. And I know you staying in that hotel room isn’t just about hiding from the ghosts of your past.” She steeples her fingers under her chin and commands, “So tell me what’s really going on.”
A blush slowly blooms over my skin, and I try to make it stop while I avoid thinking about, let alone looking at, that scandalous dress.
“Why are you blushing?” Of course she picks that up immediately. “Oh my god, that’s your ‘please stop talking about sex around me’ blush.”
Ursula is very sex-positive, sexually liberated, and extremely comfortable talking about sex.
She liked to bring up the topic because she enjoyed how it made me squirm.
She’d always poke fun, trying to get a rise out of me about ‘banging her dad,’ even though both she and Keifer knew that Luthor and I had more of a companion relationship rather than a romantic one.
“Did you have sex?” Her brows shoot up. “Holy shit, is the guy there right now? Is that why you’re not leaving your hotel room?”
“No,” I choke.
She frowns. “Then why are you refusing to leave your hotel? If you keep this up, Keif and I will be there in twelve hours.”
“Don’t.”
She smirks at how I almost panicked. “Then tell me what’s really going on.”
Embarrassment heats my cheeks. “I’d rather not.”
“If this is really about sex, then you know you have nothing to be shy about.”
“God, can you stop?” I definitely don’t want to talk about the sex I had at a kink club with a masked stranger, especially with Ursula, who is technically my stepdaughter.
“Leeva,” she warns. “I’m texting Hans to tell him to get the plane ready if you don’t tell me why you’re hiding out in your hotel room, whether it’s about sex or not.”
I groan. “Urs.”
“Leeva.” She levels me with her corporate queen’s icy stare, the one she uses when she’s negotiating multimillion-dollar business deals. “Tell me.”
She’s not going to let this drop, and I know her threat of coming here is valid. Keifer tried the gentler approach with me, and when that didn’t work, she stepped in with the hard-ass, take-no-shit approach.
Instead of answering her, I turn my camera to show the dress hanging on the closet door. I hear her intake of breath and bravely turn the camera back to me and face her over the video call.
A Cheshire cat grin curls her lips. “That is one very naughty dress.” Heat flames my cheeks, and she eyes me. “Please tell me that dress is meant for someplace just as naughty.”
I want to curl up and die.
She just grins. “So…a sex club? Some underground adult playground?”
“Can you please stop?” I groan.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” She laughs. “You’re a kinky little sex kitten underneath all that innocence, aren’t you?”
“I am not,” I say, entirely too defensively.
She holds up her perfectly manicured hands. “You get no judgment from me. Do you recall that I have three boyfriends?”
These aren’t three separate men she’s stringing along or seeing on the sly; they’re in a loving and committed polyamorous relationship.
“Now, tell me more about that very naughty, sexy as hell dress, because I’m not letting this go,” she warns.
Taking a deep breath, I admit, “I’m hiding out in my hotel suite so I don’t wear that dress and go back to that club.”
“Go back to that club?” She arches a brow. “Meaning you’ve been there already.” Her blue eyes narrow, then turn icy and hard. “Did something happen to you there?”
“No,” I reassure her. “The club carefully vets their members and has many safety protocols.”
She relaxes. “Not all clubs like this are, though, so I’m glad you picked a high-quality one.”
I don’t even want to know how she’s familiar with this knowledge, especially as I consider that Berlin is known for its kink-friendly club scene, and she and her boyfriends likely are frequent attenders.
“So why are you hiding out in the hotel room instead of going back?”
“I’m hiding out in my hotel room so I don’t go back,” I clarify.
She frowns. “Why?”
“Because the man… We wore masks…” My cheeks heat, not believing that I’m telling her this. “He doesn’t know who I am, and I don’t know who he is.”
“And?” she prods when I pause, frowning. “Hidden identities aren’t a big deal; to some, it’s part of the kink to bang someone you have no—”
“Stop,” I groan, my whole face and chest flushing with the heat of my embarrassment.
She laughs, shaking her head. “Okay, enlighten me: what’s the big deal?”
“Because after we were done… He went into the ensuite, and I saw his back.” I bite my lip, regarding her over the screen. “He had a tattoo of the Havoc Guardians logo. He’s a member of the MC. I ran out of there before he came out of the washroom.”
She leans back in her chair, studying me over the screen. There’s no judgment in her gaze, though, just as she promised. “Was it a good experience?”
“If by good experience you mean ‘best orgasms of my life’, then yes,” I mutter, then clamp my hand over my mouth in horror.
She smiles. “And what about at the club in general?”
“Yes,” I admit. “I felt safe to explore things there.”
“Here’s what you’re going to do: you’re going to get that sinful, gorgeous dress on and get your ass over to that club.”
“Yeah, how about no? Or did you miss the part that he’s a member of the Havoc Guardians?”
“So what?” She narrows her eyes. “You’re just making excuses.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m not,” I insist. “And what do you mean, ‘so what’? I can’t get tangled up with a member of the Havoc Guardians.”
“Fuck Guerilla. He has no claim over you. You’re just avoiding anything to do with the MC so you can keep putting off confronting your ghosts.”
“It’s complicated, Urs.”
“Stop making excuses,” she orders again. “Because, girl, we all know good dick doesn’t come along all the time.”
My cheeks turn scarlet. I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with her. “I didn’t say the masked guy was good.”
She snorts. “Even if I hadn’t heard you mutter ‘best orgasms of my life’, you wouldn’t have had to say anything because it’s written all over your face.”
“Oh, God.” My cheeks flame again.
“When I come to visit, the guys and I are going to go check that club out.”
“No,” I choke, making her laugh.
Seeing she’s only teasing me, I relax, and she turns serious again. “Look, your experience there sounds like it’s bringing you out of your shell. If it’s what you want, then do it.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“So don’t sleep with that guy again. You’d have any number of men lining up at your feet, Leeva. You’re a legit stunner.”
But the thought of any other man touching me does bad things to my insides. Like it makes them recoil in horror at the thought of being with someone other than my masked wolf.
“Ah, I see.” She drums her nails against her chin. “It’s him you want.” I keep silent. “You said you wore masks… Is that a common thing for this club?”
“They have a Masked Night every month, but Hedon’s manager told me that several of their members wear masks all the time.”
“Perfect. Go to the club tonight wearing your mask and fuck him again.”
I wince at her vulgar words. But there’s a simplicity in what she’s saying.
She tosses her hands in the air with a blooming smile. She may be an ice queen—the cold, ruthless business tycoon to the world—but to her family, she’s always warm and open. Unless you piss her off; you most definitely do not want to piss Ursula Wentzell off.
“Problem solved, Leeva. So, get that gorgeous, sinful dress on, grab your mask, and go get—”
“Don’t say it!” I cover my ears, making her laugh. But I look at her over the screen and ask, valuing her opinion, “Do you really think I should?”
“Yeah, I really think you should. Finding yourself, embracing what makes you happy…there’s nothing better than that. Take it from me, who fought love for way too long and wasted time.” Sadness flashes in her eyes. “Time’s precious, because we just never know…”
None of us expected Luthor to get suddenly sick and decline so quickly. They lost their beloved father, and I lost a close friend.
“Promise me you’ll live your life finding your peace and happiness.”
A mist blurs my vision. “What is it with you Wentzells all making me promise things?”
“Because that’s what family does.” Her voice is thick with emotion. “So, do I have your promise?” I nod, and she adds, “Good. Now, two things: I want the name of the club.”
“Why?”
Her striking face is dead serious. “Because a woman, especially a beautiful, single woman, going to a sex club should have at least one person who knows where she is, even if that one person is across the ocean.”
“I guess that makes sense. The club is called Hedon.”
“The second thing,” she pauses and grins. “Afterward, I want all the details.”
“Absolutely not.”
She laughs, wiggling her fingers at me. “Have fun, dirty girl.” Then she disconnects the call.
Setting my phone on the bed, I stand and slowly approach the dress, like it’s a wolf that might open its big, lethal mouth and snap shut around me.
Then, with a shudder of pure excitement, I quickly grab the dress.