CHAPTER 25
Jannie
It looked nothing like she had envisioned.
Jannie took in what looked like a small gray stone castle, complete with two crenelated turrets, as the Tahoe rolled to a stop behind a blue Rolls-Royce in the circular driveway.
Lush landscaping illuminated by hidden lighting provided gorgeous curb appeal, light glowed from every window, and music pulsed from somewhere inside.
A young man in a red vest opened the door of the Rolls and politely greeted a woman who gracefully exited the car, her shimmery pumps first, her gold sequined dress sparkling in the strategically placed lighting.
She looked so flawless that Jannie silently thanked Nick for the elegant sheath he had surprised her with, as it certainly seemed like a must-have to get into this club.
“Fancy,” she remarked, observing a man exit the driver’s side, subtly pass the valet a tip, and exchange a jovial greeting.
“It is.” Nick leaned over her to open the glove compartment, extracting a strip of fabric that Jannie realized was a black bow tie. He quickly buttoned up his shirt, looped the black silk strip around his collar, and began tying it with swift precision.
Jannie couldn’t help it: she watched, her heart rate quickening at the sight of him doing that. She’d always found men putting on ties incredibly sexy, and now was no exception. In no time, it lay beautifully, and her gaze lingered on his fingertips as he gently tugged to adjust it just so.
“How’s that?” he asked, lifting his chin.
“Perfect.”
It was. And he’d managed it without a mirror. He shifted the truck into gear and advanced to the entrance. As he braked and shifted into park, he noticed how she anxiously gripped her clutch.
Concern flickered in his eyes. “Ready?”
Jannie nodded, swallowing.
“We don’t have to go in if you don’t want to. I can turn right around, and we can go home and watch a movie or something.”
But the valet jogged to her door, smiling hugely, and Jannie’s gaze ping-ponged from him to the elegant house. “It’s fine,” she said.
With one final glance at her, Nick opened his door.
“Good evening, ma’am.” The valet nodded at Nick. “Mr. Kent.”
“Hey, Kyle.”
The young man looked at Jannie with curiosity. “Welcome to SSD.”
She took his proffered hand and slid down as gracefully as she could. “Thank you.”
Nick tossed him the truck key before opening the back door to retrieve a suit jacket.
“How is everything?” he asked, shrugging into it and fastening the top button.
“You know it’s great.” Kyle grinned. “You didn’t have to, but I’m glad you did.”
“You deserve it.” Nick gave him a benevolent smile. “Full house tonight?”
“Yes, sir. We’re waiting on one more couple, and then we close the doors.”
“Good.” He discreetly handed Kyle a folded bill. “Take care of her.”
“Always.” Kyle ran a loving hand over the Tahoe’s fender, then jogged around to climb into the driver’s seat. “New leather! Sweet!” He grinned at Nick and drove off with a jaunty salute.
“What was that about?” Jannie asked.
“He’s been after me to sell him my truck. I found one like it for him.”
“That was nice of you.”
He made a dismissive gesture. “I did it for myself, too. Got tired of being pestered.”
The music boomed louder and louder as they approached the entrance, and Jannie gripped Nick’s arm a little tighter as the massive arched doors opened, and two doormen stepped aside to allow them in.
People.
So many, many people.
It looked like one grand party, and thankfully, everyone was dressed. And very elegantly, she observed. Had she not known what this place actually was, she would have thought she’d entered a lavish gathering at someone’s mansion.
Her shoulders sagged with relief as her gaze swept across the room, taking in the subdued atmosphere, with patrons holding cocktails and flutes of bubbly champagne or eating hors d’oeuvres from small plates.
Men smiled, clearly doing their best to impress, while women openly flirted.
Yet beneath that was a charge, something electric and thrilling that she couldn’t quite define, and she sensed these people were sizing each other up.
The music was loud enough to drown out nearby conversations, yet it inevitably brought people closer if they wanted to hear one another.
“First impression?” Nick asked.
Jannie watched a man take a woman’s hand and bring it slowly to his lips. “Not at all what I expected.”
He chuckled, looking down at her with amusement. “And what exactly did you expect?”
“Not, um, this.” She couldn’t tear her eyes away from a middle-aged couple, deep in conversation, their gazes locked, she looking up at him adoringly.
Nick lowered his head to speak directly in Jannie’s ear. “Leather garter belts and harnesses? Cupless fetish sets?”
Yes.
Jannie shuddered at the images his words conjured and at the feel of his lips so close to her, his warm breath fanning her cheek.
He lowered his voice. “Spanking skirts, maybe?”
What the fresh hell was a spanking skirt?
He straightened, chuckling. She slanted a glance up at Nick and saw him scanning the scene, his gaze darting over the crowd to focus on something in a far corner.
He subtly nodded. She followed his gaze and noticed a sandy-haired man grinning broadly, then excusing himself with a slight bow to the group he was speaking to before weaving his way through the crowd.
“Champagne, Mr. Kent?”
A server stood beside them, beaming up at Nick, who looked at Jannie questioningly.
Jannie nodded, and Nick took two flutes, handing her one. “Thank you, Lexie.”
The young woman’s eyes flashed with unmasked heat. “Of course.”
He motioned with his chin. “I think that group over there is trying to get your attention.”
Lexie nodded, eyes crinkling with her wide smile. “On my way.”
She pivoted, showing off two very round butt cheeks in a fitted dark plum skirt, contrasting nicely with a white blouse, and Jannie noted that she wore seamed stockings on her unusually long and shapely legs.
She’d never worn seamed stockings; they looked great, especially paired with those sky-high black patent heels.
Looking around, she realized all the female servers wore that uniform, while the men wore plum vests and bow ties.
The lighting was such that it flattered everyone on the vast marble floor, neither too bright nor overly dim.
And she realized it smelled good in here too, a subtle perfume she couldn’t place that simultaneously stimulated and relaxed.
Pumped in through the vents, she assumed.
Once, when she’d stayed at a five-star hotel in Tampa, she experienced something similar, sensing it as soon as she stepped into the lobby.
Her gaze was drawn to the tall man who had nearly reached them, approaching in long, confident strides. His sandy hair was strategically disheveled, and his gray eyes held an amused condescension that Jannie immediately found unnerving.
“Kent!” He thrust out a long-fingered hand to clap Nick’s shoulder. “I hoped I’d see you here tonight. Almost didn’t recognize you without the beard.”
“Jordan.” Nick’s handshake was brief. “This is Jannie Larssen.”
Jordan’s gaze moved over her like a laser beam.
“Jannie, meet my friend, Jordan Night.”
Jannie held out her hand.
Jordan took it in both of his. “Well. Hello.”
“Pleasure to meet you.”
He executed a little bow, holding her hand a tad too long, she thought.
“Jannie and I went to high school together,” Nick informed him.
Jordan winked. “I’m sorry to hear that, Miss Larssen. I went to college with the guy. We have that misfortune in common.”
“Please, it’s Jannie.”
“Jannie.” He let go of her hand but kept her gaze trapped.
Jannie attempted to smile, but her lips formed a smirk instead.
Something about the way he looked at her made her suspect he was evaluating her.
The next moment, she knew for certain, because he slowly slid his gaze to her mouth, then to her breasts, before snapping back to her eyes.
Knowing what went on at clubs like this one, Jannie didn’t doubt what he was imagining, and she stared right back, her eyes narrowing slightly as she let her own gaze wander over him, from sandy hair to brown leather belt.
He certainly was handsome, in that sun-kissed, boy-next-door kind of way. And judging by the perceptible widening of his pupils, he found her attractive too.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” Jordan finally said.
“Likewise.” She raised her chin, squared her shoulders, and one corner of Jordan’s mouth kicked up.
Probably at her refusal to wilt under his overtly sexual scrutiny.
On the contrary, she felt as if she were above him, somehow, and he surely sensed it because Jordan was the one who blinked, then looked away.
The next second, Nick grasped and squeezed her hand. Jannie started, her eyes snapping to his, and what she saw there made her stop breathing. There was a fire there she had never seen before, so bright and intense it made her mouth go dry.
Why was he looking at her like that? Something gripped her throat, and sudden tingles surged from nowhere between her thighs.
Thankfully, his focus shifted to Jordan. “Ready for the demo?”
Jordan’s full mouth quirked into a half-smile. “I am the demo.”
Nick grinned. “Oh, really?”
Jordan chuckled. “Yeah.”
“How did you get roped into it?”
That drew a dark laugh from Jordan. “They needed a replacement. Shiffer had an … ah … emergency to deal with.”
Nick frowned. “He OK?”
Jordan shook his head. “Not really. He’s in the ER.”
“What? What happened?”
Jordan smirked. “Let’s just say his new girlfriend wasn’t adept at wax play.”
Nick’s eyes grew very wide.
“She used beeswax on him.”
Nick made a strangled noise.
Jordan nodded. “Not only that, but he didn’t think to tell her she needed a water bucket and washcloth by the bed.”
“Don’t tell me.”
“Yup. Sheets caught fire. You can guess the rest.”
Nick grimaced. “How bad?”
“Pretty bad. Burns all over his chest and left side, and his bedroom is gone. Good thing they managed to put out the fire before it could spread and burn down his house.”
Nick muttered a curse. “You’d think he’d have known better.”
Jordan shrugged. “No sympathy from me. That’s what happens when you don’t play sober.”
“And his girlfriend?”
“She got a small burn on her hand and a nasty one on her leg, but she’ll be fine.” Jordan pulled his phone from his pocket and glanced at it, then turned to Jannie. “Pleasure meeting you. I’m being summoned.” He winked. “Enjoy the show.”
“I’m sure I will.”
What was she about to see? Before she could ask, the lights dimmed slightly, the music stopped, and the sound of a gong reverberated in her ears.
“Ten … minutes,” a soothing female voice announced through the sound system before the music resumed.
Jannie looked questioningly at Nick.
“Our cue to head to the theater room.” He scrutinized her features. “If anything is making you uncomfortable, we can go right now.”
Jannie eyed the people heading in the same direction, all chatting animatedly, the excitement in the air now nearly palpable.
Her curiosity spiked along with her heart rate. “I’d like to see it.”
Whatever it was. She thought to ask for a clue, but for some reason, she wanted to watch it all as it unfolded.
“Do you want more champagne? You can take it with you.”
She did, but it was not a good idea; her head buzzed from the first glass, which she had downed too quickly.
“Thank you, no.”
Nick offered his arm, which Jannie accepted, her fingertips pressing into his muscular forearm. As he led her out of the enormous room, she sensed eyes on her and looked up to see a balcony. Several individuals in black jackets leaned on the wrought iron railing, gazing down at the crowd below.
Their keen eyes scrutinized the patrons, clearly taking mental notes on each one.
Passing underneath, Jannie locked eyes with one woman whose gaze was so intense, it made her feel ensnared. Seeing that Jannie met her stare, the woman’s eyes narrowed.
Jannie narrowed her eyes right back. “Who are those people?” she asked Nick through clenched teeth.
“See the pocket squares?” He didn’t bother to look up. “All worn on the left side. Those are all doms and dommes.” He said it so nonchalantly, as if every club had handkerchief codes.
Indeed, every person up there wore a black suit jacket and a pocket square, in various colors, Jannie noted. Some wore more than one color.
“Do the colors signify anything?” she asked.
“They absolutely do.”
Jannie realized that Nick, too, sported a black jacket. Out of his left breast pocket, a square peeked out in a simple, straight fold.
It was gray.
“What does yours stand for?”
A slow half-smile spread across his handsome face, and his dark eyes flashed fire as they caught hers.
“Bondage.”