Chapter Thirteen #2
She motions to me, and I fall into step beside her as she points out the playrooms on display and a slew of shower stalls. She even points out a few faceless Wall Street execs on our tour, pausing when she reaches the bar. Wordlessly, she steps behind it and pours me a drink.
“Underage sex isn’t allowed. Neither is rape. Everyone here is here of their free will.”
I tilt the glass back, and it burns my throat. “I’m sure the women under contract don’t see it that way.”
“Some women choose to work here.”
I frown at the glass, seeing an image of myself in Mason’s office, shame and pleasure burning through me in equal parts. “I’m not talking about the women who choose to work here, and you know that.”
No woman in her right mind would choose to be indebted to a man’s every whim and desire.
There are always options, and as far as I could tell, any woman who wound up here was desperate or had nothing to go back to.
Why else would they spend their time in a house of depravity?
“No one is here by force, London.” Miss Deveroux’s voice is firm. “I know it’s difficult for you to understand, but everyone—including you—has a choice.”
I snap my gaze up to hers. “I’m not here by choice. I’m here because I didn’t have one.”
I will not stand by and let my father pay for his mistakes, not when he bit off more than he could chew.
Not when there’s a way for me to help dig him out of the hole he’s in.
What kind of daughter would I be if I stood by and did nothing?
“You could pay off the debt in other ways,” Miss Deveroux reminds me in the same even tone. “No one is forcing you to be here.”
I shove the glass away. “With the kind of money my dad owes? How else am I supposed to pay it off?”
The entire thing is rigged, and we both know it.
Miss Deveroux might be here by choice, but a lot of the women here, myself included, came here as a last resort.
Miss Deveroux raises an eyebrow. “You could let them collect.”
“And let my dad lose his diner? After everything he’s been through? I can’t let that happen.”
My dad isn’t the only one who’s given up a lot to see the diner through.
I’m doing this for him, but I also want to know that I haven’t wasted the past few years of my life, and that dropping out of college was the right thing to do.
Silence settles between us as Miss Deveroux scans the floor. Wordlessly, she steps out from behind the bar, and I follow her again. In the semi-darkness, it’s almost easy to forget about everything happening within these walls, but between the moans and the distinct smell, my senses are heightened.
Miss Deveroux points out a few more rooms, some with closed doors, some with the doors open and displaying various activities.
The floor is painted in dark, muted colors, and the other workers glide past on the tips of their toes.
Some cling to the shadows, never seen or heard but always one step ahead of the clients.
Everything revolves around the clients, who pay top dollar for privacy.
Shock floods my system as we move through the lower floor and I recognize a few faces, celebrities, businessmen, and politicians alike. Under the same roof, the faces blend together.
Miss Deveroux takes me back to the main floor and we stand in a quiet corner that offers a full view of the floor.
A few poles are scattered throughout, and women in bras and thongs twirl and dance while men watch hungrily.
I swallow and dig my nails into my palms, already counting down the days until I can get out of here.
I don’t like how this place makes me feel.
I don’t like knowing that I feel the pull deep inside.
I can’t afford to lose myself here.
Focus, London. You’re here to pay off your father’s debt. That’s it. Anything else is just asking for trouble. Mason is wrong. You won’t beg for him or anyone else. That’s not what you’re here for.
I’m repeating the mantra for the fifth time when I realize Miss Deveroux is looking at me expectantly.
I blink. “What?”
“There are other ways you can pay off your debt.” Miss Deveroux’s dark eyes are glittering. “You could do more than housekeeping.”
I shake my head. “I have a boyfriend.”
Her lips lift into a smile. “Honey, I never said you had to marry them. It’s just sex.”
“It’s not just sex. At least not to me.”
It has to mean something, and I can’t imagine letting any of the creeps in this establishment touch a strand of hair on my head, much less get anywhere near my body.
Miss Deveroux places a hand on my shoulder. “It’s a way to pay the debt off quickly. You might even enjoy yourself. How old is this boyfriend?”
“He’s twenty-two, and he just graduated from college.”
Miss Deveroux throws her head back and laughs. “Sweetheart, he’s just a boy. He doesn’t know anything compared to the men here. You can have a little fun, and he doesn’t have to know.”
“I would know.”
Miss Deveroux makes a noncommittal sound and motions to me.
My heart is pounding as I hurry after her, ignoring the leering looks.
When we reach the other side of the floor, she veers into a hallway with several rooms. The overhead lights flicker and buzz.
Once we reach the end of the hallway, I realize the door is propped open to reveal a naked woman on her back.
Her hands are handcuffed to either side of the bed, her legs are spread, and she is panting.
The man in front of her is holding a whip and has a glint I don’t recognize in his eyes. He advances on her and uses the whip to caress her bare skin. She whimpers quietly, and their eyes meet.
“What’s that?”
The woman swallows, and her lips part. “Please.”
“Please what?”
“Please, Daddy. I want you to fuck me.”
I press my lips together to hold back my surprise. The brunette tosses her head back, licks her lips, and smiles. “I want you to fuck me good.”
The bed dips as the man settles between her legs, his eyes roaming her. “You’ve been a bad girl, Jessica. You need to be punished.”
She tugs on her restraints and bobs her head. “Yes. Oh, God. Please, yes.”
“You’ve been a bad girl.”
She nods.
In one quick move, he undoes the restraints and flips her onto her stomach. Then, he twists her arms behind her back. She tosses him a heated look over her shoulder, and a silent look passes between them. Then he lifts her ass, positions himself behind her, and thrusts into her.
I want to look away.
I know I should, but I can’t make myself do it.
Watching the man thrust in and out of her in slow measured strokes at first and then little by little with wild abandon does something to me.
An unfamiliar fire grows in my stomach as the woman’s moans of pleasure grow.
She bucks against him, and the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes back to me.
I swallow, bite my lower lip, and stare at them through hooded lashes. They rock against each other, guttural sounds falling from their lips. I uncurl my fists and hear past the pounding in my ears.
Neither of them minds that we’re watching.
It’s as if nothing else exists to them.
I don’t think I’ve ever had that feeling with Noah.
The man abruptly stops pounding into the woman and releases her hands. He flips her onto her back, and she links her fingers behind his neck. With a growl, he throws her legs over his shoulders and thrusts back into her, causing them both to cry out.
The sound stokes the fire building within me.
I shift from one foot to the other and lick my lips.
Miss Deveroux is as still as a statue next to me, and I wonder if she’s used to it.
She must be. How else can she be professional and do her job?
I’m so engrossed and marveling at how different it is than when Noah and I are together that I don’t realize a group of men approaching us. One of them, a tall man with sandy blond hair, green eyes, and an untucked silk shirt steps forward and waits for me to look at him.
When I do, he steps forward, and I take an involuntary step back.
“How about you and I have some fun?” His mouth is next to my ear, and I shiver with unease. “If that’s the kind of thing you like, I can show you a good time.”
I shake my head. “I’m not here for that.”
He moves closer, so I’m boxed in, and I freeze in fear. “Come on, baby. Just give it a chance. I bet you’ve never had it like you will with me.”
“I can’t. I—”
“Back the fuck off.” Mason’s voice is as cold as steel, and the look in his eyes is predatory as he appears from the shadows, the first few buttons on his shirt undone and the rest of his suit pressed and immaculate. “She’s not here for that.”
The blond man glances over his shoulder. “Everyone here has a price.”
Mason crosses over to us, and his fingers circle my wrist. He tugs me forward, so I’m pressed against his side. “Not here.”
The other man laughs. “We just want to play. We know the rules.”
Mason bares his teeth at the man and holds up my arm, showing off the bracelet provided with my uniform. The other men in the background stop smiling, and a flicker of fear and uncertainty flashes among them. I glance from the bracelet to their faces and know it means something.
Why did Mason give it to me?
“You know what this means,” Mason growls. “I’m assuming you want to keep your limbs intact.”
The blond man steps back and throws up his hands. “We didn’t mean any harm. We’ll go now.”
Mason locks his jaw and says nothing.
I wrench my hand away as soon as à l gone. “What does the bracelet mean?”
Mason rounds on me, and the look in his eyes makes my knees weak. “It means that you’re mine, and no one else is allowed to fuck with you.”
I hold his gaze and ignore the tremor rising within me. “I’m not yours.”
“You will be. In the meantime, you have a job to do.”
Without waiting for a response, he turns and leaves me alone with a strange ache in my stomach.
What exactly have I agreed to?