Chapter 25
Twenty-Five
LULU
“I’ll show you,” Scarlett says with a knowing smile. “Now that you’ve seen all of this, we’ll go back downstairs. We’ll start our workouts first thing after our shifts tonight.”
“You want me to work out at six in the morning?”
“I mean, unless Mr. Alexander is giving you a different kind of workout, yes.” She smirks and hits the button for the elevator.
“Are you from Vegas?” I ask her.
“Nah, I’m from Nebraska.” She shakes her head. “It’s so boring there. I wanted bright lights and excitement. So I came here when I turned eighteen and found this job about a year later. I’m never leaving it. I’ll be old and wrinkled and still working in the playroom.”
I giggle at the thought, and then we’re back on the lounge level. I wave at Rita as Scarlett leads me to the heavy double doors that open to the playroom, and when she pulls it open, I step inside and feel my breath catch in my lungs.
Oh my God.
The black-and-gray color scheme does not carry into this space.
It’s white. White tile floors, white wallpaper with gold designs in it.
Flowy, transparent fabric hangs from the ceiling, giving the illusion of rooms. The stage is dark and empty right now, but I can’t help but wonder what kinds of shows they put on in here.
The furniture is all in jewel tones. Purples, reds, yellows, and greens. I don’t even know what half of it is, because I’ve never seen anything like it.
But then there are also couches, stools, and benches. There are two beds in opposite corners of the space, and there are pillars throughout the room where couples are fucking.
A lot of sex is happening in here.
Music pounds around me, which fascinates me because I don’t hear the music in the lounge. The playroom must be soundproofed.
Scarlett leads me to the right.
“We’re going to make a circle,” she yells into my ear, “through the whole space, so you can take it all in. Then we’ll walk down the hall of privacy rooms.”
I can only nod as she leads me to the corner with the first bed.
A woman is lying in the middle of red satin sheets on her back, all four limbs secured with ropes to the corners of the bed.
She’s naked, and two men, one on either side, are playing with her, running huge peacock feathers up and down her skin.
“They’re just beginning,” Scarlett tells me. “They’ll progress with different instruments until they get to the pain part.”
“The pain?”
“Sure. She’s here to test her limits, and George and Adam are the best. They’ll keep her safe, check in with her often, and the second she uses a safe word, it’s over. This is just one kind of scene I was telling you about.”
“Have you done this?” I ask her.
“Of course.” She winks at me, and we stay to watch.
It’s not sterile-looking, as far as decor goes. Ruby-red drapes frame the bed, giving it a rich tone that feels intimate.
The men switch from feathers to soft makeup brushes, the kind I’d use for my blush. They circle her breasts, down her stomach and over her pussy, then down her legs.
Next up is a riding crop, and now I shift on my feet.
But they don’t slap her with it. They glide it over her skin, up and down her body. One of them does give her breast a little slap, and she gasps, then smiles.
Is that normal? For women to like that?
“Over here is the spanking bench.” Scarlett gestures for me to keep walking, and my eyebrows climb. “It’s what it sounds like. You bend over, and someone spanks you. Or you’re the spanker. Both are fun.”
I notice there are restraints on it, and I frown.
“You get tied down while they spank you?”
“Sometimes, but you don’t always have to be. They’re there for whoever wants to use them.”
“I don’t want to be hit.” I shake my head adamantly. “No, thank you.”
“A hard limit.” She nods approvingly. “I like it. No spanking bench for you, then.”
I’m so out of my element. The two brief sexual encounters I’ve had did nothing to prepare me for this.
Watching these people be so unabashedly open with their sexuality almost makes me jealous.
That they’re not shy about being naked, about making noise and taking what they want is something I admire and respect.
I don’t know that I could do it.
Could I?
I imagine Rome kissing me, touching me, pushing me up against one of the pillars, and my core tightens. But letting him get me naked here?
I don’t think so.
The entire time we’ve been in here, I feel like his eyes are on me, but I haven’t seen him in the room. That doesn’t mean he’s not watching. I know he is. I can feel his eyes on me.
Scarlett leads me past a couch where two men are fucking one woman. She’s straddling one of them, and the other is behind her, and all three are writhing like it’s the best night of their life.
Against a pillar, a man has another man bent over, gripping the wood tightly, as he’s fucked from behind.
There’s so much to see everywhere. So much movement and noise and music. I try to keep my face impassive because I don’t want anyone to feel like I’m judging them.
Because I’m not. I think it’s awesome that this place exists.
But there’s a lot here that I don’t want to do.
Breath play? I don’t know about that.
Definitely no spanking or whipping.
Being tied up actually looks kind of hot.
“Shibari,” Scarlett whispers to me as we approach a man working with different colored ropes with his partner. “That’s what it’s called.”
“I kind of like it,” I admit, and she smiles with a nod.
The guy wanders over to me and lets me touch the ropes, winking at me. They’re so soft. And the knots he’s made all up and down her body are beautiful.
He returns to his girl and continues. She’s kneeling, her hands behind her back, watching him closely. She’s panting. Her eyes are dilated so wide, all I can see is black. And I can see why. Yeah, that’s hot as fuck, and I wonder if Rome can do that.
After we make our way around the room, she leads me through another set of doors and down a hallway, but it’s not really that simple.
It’s so beautiful down here. The floor is mustard yellow, and the walls are papered in a gorgeous purple design.
The music is muted a bit here, but I can still hear it.
“Most of the rooms are private,” she says. “Members can book them ahead of time. Sometimes they ask one or more of us to join them or bring their own partners.”
“Not all of the rooms are private?” I ask her.
“Some are voyeur rooms.” She grins.
“Isn’t that what the playroom is?”
Scarlett laughs and wraps her arm around my shoulder. “I guess so, but this is different. Basically, people are engaging in things in the room, with the guise that it’s just for them, but there are windows for people to watch. Like here.”
A small crowd is gathered around the window that looks into an opulent room.
There’s a king-sized bed, and in the center of it, a woman is on her hands and knees, and a man is fucking her from behind.
One hand on her throat, one on her ass, pounding into her, and she’s screaming his name.
Her hair falls over her face, and he gently brushes it aside.
He leans over her, kisses her neck, and whispers something into her ear that has her grinning as if in anticipation of whatever he’s suggested.
It’s hot as hell.
By the time we’re finished in the privacy hall, I’m so worked up, I can hardly breathe. My thighs tremble, my lips are parted, and I’m breathing hard.
I need Rome.
I want him like I’ve never wanted anyone before, and I need him to soothe this ache that Scarlett’s tour has brought out inside me. I feel like I’ll die if he doesn’t do something about this right now.
“Do you know where Rome is?” I ask Scarlett as we walk out and into the lounge.
“I think probably his office,” she says, pointing toward the elevator.
But I’m already striding away, not even glancing at the bar as I go in search of the man who has called me his own. Who has brought me into his home, into his workplace, into his … playroom?
The man I want with every breath within me.
My man.
I nod at the guard by the elevator, then press my palm to the glass reader and the button for the third floor, needing to get to Rome. Hoping he’s alone, I also hope he’s okay with me attacking him in there.
I hope I don’t get fired.
Yet at this moment, I don’t really care if I do. Because all I can think about is getting to the man who has totally taken over my universe.
I don’t bother knocking on the door, and when I push inside, Rome glances up from his computer and lifts an eyebrow.
“Were you watching me?” I ask him as I move to lock the door, but the mechanism flips before I can reach for it.
I whirl back to him and see his finger on a button on his desk. Then all of the windows magically go cloudy, so we can’t see out, and no one can see in, and I take a deep breath in.
“Every minute,” he confirms. “You’re gorgeous. And what did you think of my club, firefly?”
I lick my lips and lean against the door. I want him, but I also love the way he’s looking at me right now. His blue eyes dance up and down my body, and when they find my eyes again, I smile at him.
“It’s fucking amazing, Rome. I love it.”
His eyes darken.
“Your face is so expressive,” he says as he stands from behind the desk and circles it, moving toward me. “Not judgmental.”
I shake my head.
When he’s standing right before me, his thumb brushes over my lower lip.
“You liked the voyeur room.”
I don’t answer him.
“You hated the spanking.”
“I’ve been hit enough.”
His jaw clenches at that. God, he’s sexy. He’s in a white dress shirt, with the sleeves rolled on his forearms, showing off that ink. His hair is perfectly styled and makes my fingers itch to mess it up.
“What was your favorite part?” he asks.
“The ropes.”
He hums deep in his throat and brushes his nose down my neck before looking at me again.
“Why are you in my office, firefly?”
“Because I’m so turned on,” I admit, staring at his lips.
“And?”
My gaze whips back up to his. “And I needed to find you.”
God, that makes me feel vulnerable, but it’s the truth.
“Oh, firefly. That was the right fucking answer.”