20. JT
jt
THEY PICKED ME up in a limo. A fucking limo.
To go two miles across town, which, even with traffic, hadn’t taken more than twenty minutes. If ever I needed a reminder that money was no object to these guys, things like this proved it.
West hadn’t told me where we were going, but as I stared up at the towering Gothic Revival structure we’d pulled up to, I knew this couldn’t be the right place.
“You got me all dressed up to take me to church?” I joked, because there was no other explanation for what this place was. Even the stained glass of the window depicted a set of wings and other art that could only be described as holy.
I tugged at the collar of the black dress shirt I’d had to unpack from a box in the back of my closet as West turned to give me a sly grin.
“Feeling a little…on edge?”
“No,” I said too quickly, causing him to chuckle. He didn’t need to know I hadn’t set foot in a church before. My parents had been on the morally upright side, just not the religious side. Was I even allowed to go inside?
More to the point, how were they ?
The exterior of the church remained dark except for a couple of low spotlights along the ground. Enough to light our path to the front entrance—
Which, apparently, as the group veered off to the left, was not where we were going.
Oh shit… “Are we breaking in?” I whispered to West, keeping close in the dark.
“You think I’d wear these shoes if we were?”
I couldn’t see a thing in the utter black, but I knew for a fact he wasn’t in a pair of sneakers. Not when the rest of him was decked out in a suit jacket and slacks.
Not that I’d noticed what he was wearing other than in relation to what I was.
At the front of the group, Travis rounded a rail on the side of the church, the only indication anything was there at all, and led us down a short set of stairs, lit only by a couple of lanterns hanging along the wall.
As he came to a stop in front of the arched wooden door, he pulled a beaded necklace over his head, and one by one I watched the other guys do the same—some from their pockets; others wore them on their bodies.
Like he could see the question written all over my face, West lifted his arm to show me the black and silver rosary wrapped around his wrist, the cross dangling between his fingers. Only it didn’t look like just a cross, it looked like…a key of some sort.
By the time I looked back up, a couple of the guys had already disappeared inside. Gavin inserted his key into a panel on the wall, and the door inched open enough for him and his date to squeeze inside before shutting again.
“You’re with me,” West murmured in my ear, and something about his breath on my neck and the proximity of him in the darkness had me remembering exactly how he’d felt against me the other night. I repressed a shiver as he added, “You don’t mind, do you?”
I shook my head, even as I wondered what that meant. What was this place? Some kind of secret society? Would they be doing blood rituals and sacrificing goats? Or worse?
Finally it was West’s turn, and we entered a small, low-lit chamber that was a little too reminiscent of a dungeon.
Even the smell reminded me of something dark and damp.
It didn’t seem at all like a place a group like the Park Avenue Princes would ever be caught dead in, but there they all were, Travis and the others who entered before us, waiting for the rest of the group in silence.
When Donovan pulled up the rear, he nodded at Travis, who again took the lead by walking over to what looked like a simple stone wall.
He felt around the stones with his hand before finding what he was looking for, and once he inserted his key into a hole I couldn’t even see, a door popped open on the right.
And with that, the sultry sounds of slow jazz with a heavy bass filtered into the chamber.
Based on the music alone, I didn’t have to be religious to know whatever was happening inside was definitely not a church service.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I said under my breath when the first thing I saw was a tremendous, glittering chandelier hanging over a small circular bar, looking like something out of The Phantom of the Opera .
The second thing was the smell—it was fucking amazing, luxurious and sexy, and I took in a deep inhale as I tried to place what it was.
Sandalwood? Some bergamot or citrus? Whatever it was, I wanted to bottle it up and bring it home with me.
“You gonna keep sniffin’ the air, or do you wanna have some fun?” East’s shoulder knocked against mine as he passed, causing West to throw him a curse.
As I took in the view, I realized why we were all dressed in our best—and in black.
Because everyone else was.
“What is this place?”
“You already know.” West winked. “Welcome to Church. Come on, I’ll show you around.”
The burlesque dancers putting on a show in the middle of the room explained the music choice, but they were the least shocking thing about this place.
Far dirtier deeds were happening in the green velvet booths lining the perimeter of the room, which wasn’t nearly as large as it looked from the outside.
A flash of skin to my right had me averting my eyes, but the next table over wasn’t any better.
That sure as hell wasn’t powdered sugar on a silver platter being snorted.
“So this is an anything-goes kind of place,” I said, putting my hands in my pockets as West continued to give me a tour.
“Everywhere can be anything goes if you want it to, but this one caters to a certain clientele.”
“A rich one.”
“A members-only one.” His hand moved to my lower back as he switched direction toward a row of nondescript black doors. “Have any sins you need to confess?”
“What do you mean?”
“Those are confessional booths. Although I suppose they’re better suited to commit sins in rather than confess.” West leaned in close. “Want to see?”
I swallowed, taking a small step back. Like everything else in this room, the air of sex and depravity was overwhelming, and I had no clue what I was doing in a place like this.
“Relax,” West said, closing the space between us. “It’s a bar first, and whatever you desire second.” He gestured to the bar, where several of his friends already had drinks in their hands. “Come on, let’s get something that won’t make our heads a throbbing mess tomorrow.”
I tamped down the hesitation that came from feeling entirely out of place and agreed, letting West order me a white Russian. That would be safe enough, as long as I didn’t throw back shots along with it.
It was amazing what a little alcohol could do for getting rid of your nerves. A couple of drinks in, and I was laughing along with the rest of them. The music had changed over to a faster, harder beat, and the burlesque dancers had been switched out for the crowd to get in on the action.
“I have a question for you,” I said to West as he leaned against the bar beside me. “What do you guys do when you’re not partying?”
“Sleep. Sex. Eat. Sex. Occasionally grace Astor with our presence.”
I laughed. “You’re obnoxious.”
“I prefer charming.”
Rolling my eyes, I shoved his bicep, ignoring the way it flexed under my hand. “Seriously, what about normal people stuff. Do you go to the theatre? Venture into Central Park? Do your own damn homework?”
“I’ll have you know I was finishing up an essay before East interrupted.”
“Really?”
West narrowed his eyes. “You don’t think I know how to string a few sentences together?”
“It’s not that, I just figured you could pay off someone else to do it.”
“You’re right. I could.” He twisted the gold band on his finger. “But I don’t. Can’t just be a pretty face.”
When I chuckled, West feigned offense.
“What? You don’t think I have a pretty face either?”
In the back of my mind I knew he was taunting me, wanting me to tell him he was as attractive as he already knew he was. West didn’t need me to say it. He just wanted to hear it.
I could see it now that I really looked at him. I could respect when a guy was good looking, but I’d never really noticed beyond that. But I’d kissed this guy. What was it about him that had made me do that?
His sky-blue eyes certainly grabbed attention. They were both warm and inscrutable at the same time, and you were never quite sure what he was thinking.
Maybe it was the cocky way he smiled, or the confident way he carried himself in clothes that fit his body to perfection. My fingers could attest to that, having felt the solid muscle of his chest and abs when I asked him to kiss me.
I’d also felt something else rock solid, but I’d tried not to think that about for days now.
It had all been a drunken mistake, one that wouldn’t be repeated. That didn’t mean I couldn’t appreciate how very attractive West really was.
He just wasn’t my type, was all.
I sucked down another swallow of my drink, glad I’d gone with something that wasn’t too strong. I needed to keep my head on straight tonight—something that had never been a problem in the past.
“Earth to JT?”
I blinked West’s face back into focus. “Sorry, what?”
“See, my face is so pretty, you’re daydreamin’ about it.”
“Actually, I was just trying to avoid hurting your feelings.”
He gave a knowing look. “Sure you were.”
God, some people were just too good looking for their own good. But that was the last thing I needed to focus on tonight. It was time to change topics.
“So how’d you hear about this place?”
“Hear about it?” West shook his head, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “We didn’t hear about it. We launched it.”
“Launched it? What do you mean?”
West turned and rested back against the bar, looking out at the sea of people mingling with one another, and I did the same. There were men and women dancing in any and all combinations, but the one glaringly obvious thing was that these people were not your everyday crowd.