14. Chapter 14
Jasmine
Ihate the way this man looks devilishly handsome today. Hell, every day. Dario walks ahead of me, and my eyes can’t help but take in his muscular ass in his painted-on pants.
Stop it. Stop looking at your client’s ass. It doesn’t matter that it’s complete perfection. While you’re at it, stop looking at the biceps bulging underneath his shirt. And his slightly stubbled profile. And don’t you dare think about how good that would burn between your thighs.
Fuck, I need to get laid.
My thoughts of Dario’s sculpted body come to an abrupt halt when I crash into him. “Shit.”
His brilliant, and of course, perfect, smile gleams. “If you wanted me to hold you in my arms, mio toro, all you had to do was ask.”
I quickly pull away from Dario’s touch, brushing off the fact that his hands on me send some sort of electric jolt through my body. My entire body. And yes, I mean my pussy. “Why did you stop?”
He blinks his eyes at me, and they’re as mouthwatering as the hazelnut spread they match. “I asked you a question, and you never answered. I stopped to check on you.” He leans down to whisper in my ear. “And I couldn’t help but notice that you were checking me out.”
A breathy laugh escapes me, but I manage to recover quickly. “Gross, truly.” His smirk tells me he isn’t buying it, so I pivot. “I was simply taking in how stunning this place is compared to Angelo. It’s much more my style.”
“Is that so?” His smile spreads into the same one the serpent must have given Eve. “What is it about Demone that draws you to it?”
I swallow the ball currently stuck in my throat.
He’s a serpent indeed with the way his tone has me ready to forgo all my inhibitions and ask him to take me to one of the suites here; I have no doubt they’re as gorgeous as the rest of the place.
“The color scheme,” I manage to stammer out. “I like the blacks and reds.”
Dario steps closer to me, wrapping his arm around my back and pulling me into him, and I bite the inside of my cheek so the whimper dying to escape stays right where it should. “If the darkness is what you like, Miss Baker, then you’re in luck.”
He brushes past me, and I ignore the shiver running down my spine.
I hate how my body reacts to this man as much as I hate his inability to be serious about anything.
Following him, we reach the elevators that are, to no surprise, black.
When we step inside, the soft red glow paired with the low beat of the elevator music is suggestively seductive.
I wait for Dario to press a button to take us to a different floor, but instead, my eyes track his movements as he scans a black card with a foiled red pitchfork over what appears to be a keypad. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” Dario says, stepping back with a smug smile.
I open my mouth to berate him for not being forthcoming, but the elevator begins to descend, the shock stealing my voice. I look down at the ground beneath my heels, and my mind races. Dario may be a bit of a joker, but his promise of darkness has a lump growing in my throat.
When I finally reach the courage to try and speak again, the elevator doors open, and I jump as Dario steps in from behind me and whispers in my ear. “Welcome to Inferno.”
The music follows us as we exit the elevator and cross the black marble floors.
The beat is strong and feels like it’s thrumming through my entire body, making my core throb in need.
I follow Dario to a black counter placed directly in front of thick double doors, where I also notice a keypad.
A thin woman with a blonde bob and red painted lips greets us.
“Mr. Caruso, it’s a pleasure.” I don’t miss the way his eyes rake over her body and can’t help but roll my eyes, certain these two have hooked up before. Not that I give a single damn.
Give her your phone,” he orders me.
I cross my arms in defiance because how fucking dare he? “Why should I?”
He leans into me and tucks a stray golden strand behind my ear, then lifts my chin so I can look in his eyes. “There are rules here that must be followed. You can trust me.”
I snort and don’t miss the way his face falls. It’s brief. Had I blinked, I’m certain I would have missed it. Feeling guilty, I pull my phone from my jumpsuit pocket, another reason to love these things, and hand it over.
His lips tilt up gently before he turns back to the woman. “We will need black bands today, Valentina.”
She gives a small nod and smile, handing over two silk strands.
Dario grabs my hand and slides the gentle fabric over my fingers and palm until it sits on my wrist. He pulls at the black bead until the fit is snug.
When he releases me to put his own band on, I ignore the way my body misses his touch.
“What are these for?” I ask.
Dario steps to the double doors and scans his card once more, looking down at me as they open. “Our safety.”
My throat catches, wondering where the hell he has brought me.
What if this is some underground gambling ring with seedy mafioso types where the game ends in a shootout when one of them realizes they’ve lost all their money?
What if it’s an underground fighting ring where people place bets on who will win in a match where only one person can walk away victorious?
A deep inhale helps me brace myself for whatever I’m about to walk into. As I follow Dario through the doors, I’m surprised by the same deep bass of the music as a myriad of bodies writhe against each other.
When a woman accidentally bumps into me, I notice her top has been pushed down so her breasts are bare and on display for everyone to see. My eyes gawk, but she smiles, apologizing for her clumsiness, then turns back to her partner, who leans down to hopefully help her pull her top back in place.
“Did you see that?” I ask Dario, but with the music so loud, he continues walking, no doubt unable to hear my question.
I bend and twist my body, a dance all of my own, as we continue through the place.
Cages are suspended throughout the space, and I blink rapidly when I see a woman dancing in it, a man kissing her neck and dipping his hand in the leather pants she wears.
I gasp and turn away, following Dario until he finally stops at a bar.
The strobe lights scan over the high-shelf bottles behind the black counter and the men dressed in black pants and bow ties.
I guess if I had abs like that, I wouldn’t wear a shirt, either.
While we wait for one of them to finish mixing drinks and make their way over to where we stand, I step closer to Dario so he can hear me over the music.
“So Demone has an underground nightclub?”
“Of sorts,” he replies.
My face scrunches up in confusion. “Does Angelo have one?”
Dario shakes his head. “Inferno is exclusive to Demone. Though I suppose I could probably create a similar experience. Finding the space could be an issue.”
He looks lost in thought as he considers things.
“Maybe on the rooftop?” I suggest, which must be the most hilarious recommendation ever since Dario doubles over in laughter.
I huff and cross my arms, staring at Dario indignantly. “What is so funny?”
Before he can answer, a bartender with a very charming smile approaches us. He leans over, speaking loudly. I don’t know what band is playing tonight, but they have some sort of instrument that makes a suggestive moaning sound. “Hey, boss. What can I get for you?”
“Two bottles of water,” Dario demands.
“You got it.” The bartender turns, bending down to retrieve our drinks from a mini fridge, and I can’t help but notice the man must never miss leg day.
“You’re staring,” Dario whispers, causing me to jump.
I glare at him. “So what if I was? Just because I’m a woman, I’m not allowed to recognize a good-looking man? You eye every single woman who passes.”
Dario dips his head down to where his lips are dangerously close to mine. His heady scent floods my nose, and my mouth waters, craving more of it and hoping he moves in a little closer. “I may look at other women, but there’s only one I can’t stop staring at.”
I stare back at him, and there’s a challenge in his eyes, as though he dares me to ask who that woman might be. I remind myself it should be anyone but me. There’s a strict boundary drawn between us I refuse to cross—no matter how much he makes my mouth and other things water.
“Here you go,” a chipper voice says, breaking me from whatever spell Dario put me under. “You sure that’s gonna be enough for what you have planned?”
A wicked grin dances across Dario’s face as he gives the man a wink. “There are more in the room if we need it.”
As Dario steps away from the bar, I follow him, scanning the dance floor to see if I missed separate rooms on my way in. “Are there hotel rooms down here? Wouldn’t the music bother them?”
He wears a humored expression as he silently continues toward an area of the club where a bouncer stands beside a black curtain.
While the man doesn’t smile at Dario as he approaches, I know he recognizes him by the head nod he gives. “Black isn’t your usual color,” the man says in a deep voice.
“It’s in honor of my guest,” Dario says, nodding to me.
The man focuses his sharp eyes on me but directs his question to the man I’m accompanying tonight. “Does she know the rules?”
A single nod from Dario suffices, and the man pulls back the curtain, allowing us to step into the hidden room. There’s a large seating area where couples and solo visitors lounge. A giant window is in front of them, but too many bodies are blocking for me to know what they’re viewing.
This is the weirdest fucking nightclub I’ve ever visited.
Dario puts his hand on my waist, guiding me through a hallway with doors on each side. I attempt to pull myself from his grasp, but he only clutches me tighter.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask, but he doesn’t reply.
“Dario,” I say firmly, digging my elbow into him and realizing his stomach is solid muscle. “Where are you taking me?”
He grins at me, unfazed by my harsh tone I usually reserve for the courtroom. “So impatient, Miss Baker. We’re here.”
He juts his head behind me, and I turn to see a black door with a gold three on it. Dario reaches into his pocket, retrieving the same key he used in the elevator to access the club, and scans it against the door. A whirring sound is made, and then the door pops open.
Dario escorts me inside the room, and when the door closes behind us with a loud thud, I jump.
“Shh, Miss Baker,” he whispers in my ear, and I try not to release the needy whimper that’s built in my throat. “Take a look around.”
I do as he says, taking in the details of the room we’re in.
In the center sits an enormous bed, much larger than the uncomfortable queen I have in my condo, covered in black silk.
It’s industrial in design, a sleek black metal four-poster canopy, but designed for something deliberate. Something dangerous.
My fingers glide over the apparatus above the footboard.
On a thick, black horizontal beam sit three rings.
The largest is in the center, about the size of a dinner plate, with smaller rings to each side of it.
I swallow down the lump in my throat as I realize precisely what the setup is for.
As I follow the frame, my fingers dance over the fabric, enjoying the cool, sleek feel.
My eyes land on the evenly spaced steel rings.
They’re discreet enough to blend in perfectly, but my stomach twists knowing the purpose they serve.
The headboard is framed with X-shaped steel, the sides painted in a deep crimson, the only splash of color in the dark room.
My heels clack against the polished concrete floors as I make my way over to where an industrial cabinet and toolbench are pressed against the side of the wall.
I tease the handles, as though waiting for permission to open them.
“Go ahead,” Dario encourages, his words barely audible.
I know I shouldn’t. There couldn’t possibly be anything inside this cabinet I would need to know about.
Still, I’ve always been too curious for my own good, so I open the doors and blankly stare at the instruments inside.
My hands trail over the multitude of materials—leather, metal, wood, and silicone.
With a gasp, I turn around and stare at the man staring right back at me.
“What is this place?” I ask in a hushed whisper, knowing exactly what type of place this is and warring with myself on whether to be turned on or pissed off.
Dario steps in front of me, taking his large hand and placing it at the base of my neck. “You wanted my darkness, Miss Baker, and there’s nothing darker than my desires.”