“Ready?”
She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “As I’ll ever be.”
I have to say, the rock on her finger gives me a sense of pride I never thought I’d feel by just seeing a ring. I’m not the marrying type, and not because I’m the world’s biggest playboy, or because I have commitment issues. It’s mainly because I have a demanding job that doesn’t leave me much time for dating. I’m not sad about it. I’m not anything about it. It is what it is.
We exit the car, and this place is definitely different from all the other nightclubs in New York. I’m not even sure what to expect when we walk in.
Knowing the type of company Bishop Blackstone keeps, I’m ready for anything. I’m hoping it’s not too seedy and we don’t need to abandon the plan once we’re inside. If anything appears out of order, or not safe, I plan on leaving with Sophia and not turning back. We can find another way to get into the realm of Bishop Blackstone.
“I will have to touch you,” I tell Sophia as we walk up the steps.
She nods. “I’m expecting it.”
The thought of her expecting my touch turns me on. I knock on the door, waiting for what, I really don’t know.
A man with a bald head and thick neck opens the door. “Invitations?”
I smile and reach into my suit coat pocket. “Here you are.”
He looks us both over, and then our invites, before opening the door wider. “Enjoy.”
It’s showtime.
I place a hand at the small of Sophia’s back and her breath hitches. “Dear, after you.”
She steps into the club in front of me, and we walk down a thin hallway with burgundy velvet walls. Dim golden light guides us until we make it to the end where it opens up to a larger, sophisticated room. There’s a bar off to the right, and everything has a red hue to it. From the thick oriental rugs on the floor to the crystal lamps hanging from the ceiling, it’s opulent and has this sparkle of mystery floating in the air.
People mingle about and everything looks very much on the up and up.
“Drink?” I ask Sophia, hoping it will calm both our nerves.
She agrees and moves in that direction. When we were getting to know each other, I learned her favorite drink is vodka and soda, and I order her one and myself a bourbon neat.
A man with a large belly and a laugh you could probably hear from the street enters the room. His energy level is high, and I recognize him instantly.
I lean to whisper in Sophia’s ear, “That’s Humphrey Hollingsworth.”
“Should we go say hello?”
I shake my head, taking a long pull of my drink. “Not yet.”
“Should we at least mingle?”
I suck down the rest of my drink, setting the empty tumbler on the bar. I already don’t like the way every man in this joint stares at Sophia. It makes my blood simmer.
Sophia takes another sip of her drink and glances around, checking out the people like I am. “What do you think?” she asks.
I lean in closer, pretending she’s my new wife and I can’t get enough of her. “I think we need to play the part now.” I nip the lobe of her ear and then trail a string of kisses down her neck.
She tastes so sweet, like pineapples and sunshine. I breathe her in, wishing this were something I could take further.
She moans a little, and then stiffens, trying her best not to appear too aroused. But I can tell by the uptick of her pulse she is. “Why don’t you go talk to that group of people over there.” She points to a group of women. “And I’ll go talk to them over there.” She points to a group of men. The same men who have been eyeing her since the moment we walked through the doors.
“Ok.” I kiss her hand before she walks away. “Just remember, no touching until we both agree.”
She nods and heads off in the opposite direction.
I put my best charming smile on my face and stride across the room to talk to my marks. “Hello there. What are you ladies up to tonight?”
They are not shy about their eyes roaming all over my body. “We’re up for anything,” one says. “Can you handle that?”
There’s three of them here, and the one in the middle is a busty blonde. I’m sure many men have the hots for her because she’s your typical Barbie type. The one on the left has a darker, more exotic skin color and fresh blue eyes that light up the longer she stares at me. The other brunette looks almost out of place, like her friends forced her to come out tonight. All three wear black dresses with black heels. The blonde’s dress is lower cut than the other two, and tighter fitting as well. They’re all beautiful, but they’ve got nothing on Sophia Rossi.