Chapter 22
Bree
I 'm sweating bullets, soaking through my little black dress. I feel my feet slipping in my heels, and the black bunny mask I'm wearing isn't helping with the airflow issue. Yet despite the climbing summer temperatures still baking us long after the sun has set, I know I'm not sweating because of that.
I'm standing in front of a red door, smoothing out my short dress. I raise my fist to knock, but the door swings open before I make contact. A woman in a red leather dress nods at me. She's wearing a mask and just waves me in. I expected to pay, but I can't say I'm too surprised to be let in for free. What goes on in this club is more than worth the price for a man. He'll get a free show.
And what am I getting tonight?
I breeze into the large main room, nervously lingering near the edge of the dance floor like the first time I came here. But this time, I know I'll dance. I tell myself I'm here to dance, blow off steam.
I'm here for that reason and nothing else.
The past six months have been hell. Writer's block returned with a vengeance. I've been trying to push through, just force my way, but I'm not having success. The more I try to force it, the worse it gets. Even Danica told me to take some time off—only making me feel more like a failure.
I thought maybe spending time with my parents was the solution. There's just something about going home, right?
Wrong.
They noticed something was up with me as soon as I walked through the door. I got to wear their concern like a weighted blanket for my entire visit. Which wasn't the reprieve I was looking for, unfortunately.
I don't know what I'm looking for, not in exact terms.
I'm here for a scene, that's what I know for sure.
But with whom? I'm scared to give control to anyone else. Will they take advantage? Expose me in some way I haven't even thought of?
Whatever's waiting for me, I'm here to find out. I know the solution to my writer's block is on the other side of this experience.
This is how I got through it before.
The bodies on the dance floor are moving to the beat, swaying closer to each other, grinding rhythmically, sensually. I let the music start to move me, too, feeling it in my body. Yes, that's what I want. I want to dance tonight and see where that takes me. I watch the other dancers, waiting for an opportunity to wiggle my way into the pulsing center. But when no clear opportunity comes, I know I'll have to find my own way in.
I let the dance floor call to me, pull me in, and I'm inching closer, about to dive right in when I catch it.
His scent.
I whip my head around, looking for the man who must have just passed me. My heart is suddenly beating much harder than before, almost to the point of panic. I keep looking, the dance floor forgotten, and find my feet walking toward the trail. I'm like an animal following just the hint of him, but I'm locked on.
Ahead of me, skirting around the floor and toward the back of the room, is the figure of a man, his dark hair freely spilling down his back. He walks with a confidence that transfixes me. I'm almost certain that's the source of the scent. I just need to get close enough to make sure.
I watch him, keeping a healthy distance, and follow him down the long hallway that leads to the next room, the one with a stage at its center. The curtains are drawn around the stage when we get there, a scene happening at this very moment. I barely glance at the shadows of multiple women. He doesn't spare them a single look.
He walks straight into a private room at the far edge of the space.
I freeze.
What's beyond that door? Are there others waiting for him, perhaps a mouse and a cat?
But my hesitation doesn't last long. My mind is blank as my body takes control. I take the sure steps to the room and enter. It's a small space with—no one else inside. I look around confused.
That's when the door shuts behind me. And locks.
His scent is all around me now, unmistakable. I greedily breathe it in, audibly. I know he can hear me.
"My little bunny," he says low.
A flood of emotions—relief, yearning, desire—hits me at once, and my body suddenly feels weak. But he's close behind me and catches my body as my knees buckle. His strong arms wrap around me, and I hear my whimpering cry. Tears are filling my eyes, and I find myself holding on to his arms for dear life.
"You want another scene?" he asks, and the longing in his voice is everything to me.
"Yes," I whisper, feeling his fingers tighten their grip. And I know this is what I was looking for when I came here. I wanted to fall into my wolf's trap, wanted to give myself over again.
I've never wanted anything more.
"Happy to oblige," he growls.