Three Dirty Secrets (Blindfold Club 4)

The nude woman before me was stunningly gorgeous, and a year of working here hadn’t lessened the impact of seeing it. Every time it was like the first. The girls of the blindfold club were perfection. Svelte, flawless bodies with curves that made the men so weak, most had a hard time finding their voice to negotiate a price. I savored that advantage.

I handed the white silk robe to Nina after she’d folded her clothes and set them in the cubby, and then gave myself a passing glance in the mirror to make sure everything was okay. Didn’t want to spend time smiling and flirty with the potential clients with lipstick on my teeth or mascara smudged under an eye.

“Ready?” I asked her.

“Let’s make some money tonight.”

I trailed behind her down the narrow staircase and into the long, dark hallway. Client rooms to my left, holding lounges to my right. Behind me, the cashier room, which I’d never seen the inside of. Joseph had set this place up to operate contained. Clients moved from lounges, to rooms, then to payment. Never allowed to move backward in the process. It was an added layer of protection for the club. Keeping everything separate meant it was harder to prove the illegal operation.

With a flick of her platinum blonde hair, Nina pushed open the black door with the giant brass three on it and went inside.

The first dozen times I’d come into one of these rooms, they’d filled me with unease, but now I was comfortable and confident. I’d fleeced tens of thousands of dollars from men in here.

The crystals on the chandelier shimmered as we moved about the dim room, preparing. The soundproof tiles were aesthetically draped in black fabric, and gazes naturally went to the large cushion-top table in the center of the room. In the corner, a white wingback chair waited for me. I’d get to it in a minute.

“I’ve got conversation in my earpiece about clients arriving,” I said to Nina, signaling we needed to get going.

She disrobed and hung it on the hook on the back of the door, then padded to the table, sitt

ing on top of the leather. “I’ve been meaning to ask, is that your natural color?” Her throaty voice was undeniably sexy. “Because if so, I’m fucking jealous. Guys go nuts over redheads.”

“It’s not the hair so much as our fiery tempers,” I said lightly.

Nina lay down on her back and smiled up at me. “You don’t seem like that. Cool as a cucumber.”

I busied myself in the top drawer beneath the table, passing her the blindfold and pulling out the straps while trying not to think about her statement. My calm, level-headed persona was an act. Unless I’d been pretending to be the ice queen for so long, maybe I’d become her, just a little.

The black ribbon was cool and silky against my fingertips as I wound the Velcro at the end around Nina’s wrist. She’d donned the blindfold, offered her other wrist, and I secured it as well. With her bound naked to the table, it was time to take my position at the white chair.

“Room Three is ready.”

“Stand by.” Julius’ voice crackled through the radio. “You’re up in ten.”

I sank onto the chair, grateful to be off my stilettoes. I had to look the part and walk a fine line of workplace sexy. Most of the clients were wealthy businessmen, and they felt reassured making deals with a woman who looked intelligent, professional, but also with a hint of seduction. Another advantage, even though I was clothed. Two beautiful women were better than one.

That label hung uneasy on me. I was attractive, more or less. I had pretty blue eyes, fair skin, and full lips. In fact, I’d heard I had a sexy mouth once or twice. Yet I didn’t compare to the women who chose to make their money being bound and blindfolded. I was aware my looks played a big part in landing this job, but I wasn’t in the same league as Nina.

My head throbbed. Okay, medicine, you can start working anytime now.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Nina said, “about your hair color.”

Unlike most of the rest of me, “It’s real.”

“Lucky bitch,” she teased, and I couldn’t stop the smile from cracking on my lips. I liked Nina. Hell, I liked almost everyone who worked here. They were nicer, friendlier, and more interesting than most of the people at my day job.

“Yeah, so lucky,” I said. “I just love spending thirty minutes with a flatiron every morning, and it’s fun to lose that battle when there’s a drop of humidity in the air.”

“You don’t know shit. Try stick-straight hair that won’t hold a curl no matter what product you use—”

The door creaked open, silencing us, and I rose to my feet. Far less than ten minutes, but it was game time.

“Good evening, sir,” I said, gesturing. “Please, come in.”

Come closer so I can start evaluating you and reading body language. His watch was expensive, but his shoes were not. The navy suit fit him okay, but it had a Men’s Warehouse feel and wasn’t new—the decorative buttons on the sleeves had lost some of their shine.

He was in his fifties. The hair around his temples had begun to gray, and he carried a bit of extra weight. The spare tire kind of build. And, shit, he looked nervous. His doughy face was flushed red and he wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“Is this your first time at our club?” When he nodded, I added, “Please. Come take a closer look.”