Chapter 2 #2
“Seriously, I was so close,” the woman says, shaking her head.
“I’m sorry.” I shoot what I hope looks like an apologetic look at her. Not that I can bring my eyes to the bed right now. “I was just leaving.” I pull my wrist from Asher’s grasp. “Feel free to continue. Hope you have fun.” I pause for a second and then it comes. “Thank you!”
Mortification causes me to practically run out of the room into what is thankfully, an empty hallway. A second later I hear the door click shut, and the sound of footsteps behind me.
“I’m leaving,” I huff at him. “I told you that.”
“And I’m making sure you’re safe.” Asher’s voice is low. He still sounds pissed. “Francie, will you just slow the hell down?”
I turn around and my gaze clashes with his stupidly piercing blue eyes.
In the cold light of the hallway, I see he’s wearing a suit, just like the men who walked into room five.
Is that his kink? Does he like men as well as women?
My face flushes, because right now I’m imagining his broad, muscled, six-two frame completely naked, pleasing the woman on the bed along with the other men.
My thighs squeeze together.
“We’re not supposed to use real names in here,” I hiss at him, because I don’t like the way my whole body heated up at his closeness.
I’ve known this man for half of my life.
Autumn – his sister – and I have been best friends since we both ended up fully clothed in a lake at summer camp as kids, thanks to an initiation prank.
Every summer we’d gone back to the same camp, growing up together. She would invite me to stay with her family in their huge house on Liberty Island, right off the east coast, and I’d invite her to my dad’s equally huge house in Virginia.
And yes, Asher was sometimes around, just like Autumn’s other brothers – she has four of them – and her younger sister, Eden. But her brothers were older than us. Grown men.
Sure, I had a little crush on each of them in turn.
Especially Asher, because like me, he was always reading books.
He normally wears contacts, but I remember tiptoeing into the library one night in search of something to read, only to see him at the desk, leaning over a book, wearing a pair of wire-rimmed glasses.
I was eighteen then. He was twenty-eight. He was my first grown-up crush. But he was too old, had a girlfriend, and I knew he never noticed me. Which was fine, because I think Autumn would spontaneously combust if I ever dated one of her brothers. She thinks they’re all assholes.
“What on earth possessed you to come here?” Asher growls, his jaw tight. “You shouldn’t be in a place like this. It’s not for you.”
My jaw drops open. Seriously, he thinks he has the right to say that to me? “I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions,” I point out. “And maybe you should tell me what you’re doing here?” Because I’m not big on double standards. “Did I just ruin your fun?”
He blinks, like he’s taking my words in.
“Were you about to join in?” I ask him. “Because you can go back in if you want. I’m sure Princessa would love an extra man on the bed.”
He looks appalled. “Princessa?”
“The woman with the three men. That’s her code name.” I reach for his security bracelet, determined to find out what his is. But there’s no name on there. “Why’s your pass different than mine?”
“It doesn’t matter. You need to leave. Now.” He reaches for my arm, but I step away.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” I protest. “I already have six brothers. I don’t need another one.”
His mouth twists at that.
“Do they know you’re here?” he asks, and a shiver rushes down my spine. If they ever found out I’d have to flee to a convent. And black isn’t my color.
“Does your girlfriend know you’re here?” I counter.
“We’re not talking about me,” he huffs. “I’m a grown man.” He pauses. “And I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“And I’m a grown woman.” I lift a brow, trying to ignore the rush I feel from knowing he’s single. The last I heard he was practically living with somebody. “If I want to go to a sex club, I can. If I want to have sex, I can do that too.”
His lips part. “Francie…”
“Sylph,” I correct. “No real names, remember?”
His jaw ticks. “What the hell are you wearing?”
My cheeks heat. The white dress had felt daring earlier, a little dangerous. Now, under his burning stare, it feels... wicked. His gaze drops to my legs, then flicks back up, a second too slow. Just enough to make my pulse skip.
“You need to leave,” he tells me. “Now. I’ll call my driver, he’ll take you straight home.”
“No thanks.” I shake my head. “I’ll get an Uber.”
His face hardens, like I’ve just told him I’ll catch the subway naked. “No you won’t.” His voice is low. Commanding. I bet he’s a load of fun in this club.
“My driver will be here in five minutes,” he says. “Black town car.”
The door to room five opens, and amid the loud sounds of moans and grunts – I guess they managed to get back to things quickly – somebody walks out. It’s only when Asher manages to look even more pissed that I realize it’s the man who was standing in the corner with his eye on me.
“Actually,” Asher murmurs. “I’ll walk you out.” Without any advance notice, he slides his arm around my waist, his touch so soft it sends a shiver down my spine. “Darling.”
It’s my turn to frown. Darling? Seriously. And yes, the way he presses his palm against my stomach as he pulls me close is making me tingle in all the right kind of ways, but still.
The man who came out of the room stops in front of us. “You’re a very beautiful woman,” he murmurs. There’s an accent to his voice that I can’t quite place. He looks at Asher. “Do you share?”
Asher shoots him the dirtiest of looks. “No, I don’t. Fuck off.”
“I’d pay good money.”
“You couldn’t afford her.”
Oh my God, they’re talking about me like I’m some kind of deal to be made. Like I’m for sale.
“Excuse me,” I tell the man. Panther, his security card says. “I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last man on Earth. That’s not how you get a woman. Not by offering to pay for her. I expect at least a nice dinner and a foot rub before I put out.”
Asher coughs, like he’s trying not to laugh. So I turn around and fix him with a dark stare.
“I’m leaving,” I tell him.
I turn on my heel, but I don’t get far. Because his hand catches my wrist again. Gentler this time, but no less firm.
“Francie,” he says, his voice low, rough.
I look over my shoulder. Panther has gone, thank goodness. There’s only Asher behind me, his gaze dark, focused. I can’t read his expression at all.
“Dinner and a foot rub,” he murmurs. “Good choice.”
My breath catches, and then he lets go. “Stay safe.” This time his voice is demanding. And I hate the way it makes my skin flush.
So I walk away, my heart racing, absolutely certain of one thing.
I’ll never look at him the same way again.