Forbidden (Playing With Fire)

Michaela’s mouth dropped open. “Scarlett? Really? Does she come here?”

“Yeah, though not as much lately.”

“Is she a, um, doer or a watcher?”

“I think she’s both.”

“Oh.” She shook her head as they started walking toward the double doors. “Wow. I’m surprised.”

“You shouldn’t be. You’re a watcher, too, you know.”

A pretty blush stained her cheeks. He loved that one moment she looked like a sweet innocent and the next he could have her begging for his cock. Such a contradiction. “You make me feel like a pervert.”

“Baby, I love your perverted ways.” He kissed her, a quick one, just to have that connection, and then he opened the door, allowing her to walk in before him.

The lobby was dark, dimly lit and the walls were covered in dark red, flocked velvet wallpaper. A tall man dressed in a tuxedo stood behind a counter, his expression neutral, almost bored. As they drew closer, Austin realized the guy’s tux looked straight out of the seventies with the big lapels and the powder blue ruffled shirt.

Bizarre.

“May I help you?” The man smiled though it didn’t reach his eyes, and Austin wondered how long it took to work there for a person to look so damn jaded.

“We’re here to see Tom.” That was the code term—Scarlett had given it to him when he called her earlier—and the man nodded, flipping open a black leather bound notebook.

“Stand or deliver?”

“Excuse me?”

The man rolled his eyes, the disdain on his face clear. “Will you be standing to watch the entertainment or will you be delivering it?”

Wasn’t that clever? “Standing.”

“Two stands.” The man jotted it down in his notebook, his gaze flicking from Austin to Michaela and then back to Austin. “You two make a pretty couple.”

“Thanks.” Austin really didn’t know what to say, and he noticed that Michaela was completely silent. He reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet.

“Pretty enough to deliver sometime, if you get my drift.” With a smile, the man snapped his notebook shut. “First time here, I take it?”

Austin and Michaela both nodded and Austin reached across the top of the counter, handing the man a wad of cash. The man took it with a smile, his fingers tracing Austin’s palm.

They were barely in the place, and he was already getting hit on.

“You can stare all you want but you can’t participate unless you’re invited to, with the exception of the staged performers. If they’re up on a stage or even a dais, you’re not allowed to join them, no exceptions. Keep it clean. No chatting while observing, it’s rude. If you must, touch yourself or touch each other.” The man gave a little shudder. Drama queen all the way. “Please do so discreetly. It’s allowed, but we don’t want to see anything too blatant. That’s what the deliverers are for.”

“Okay.” Austin nodded again, as did Michaela. The rules were pretty straightforward.

“There are condoms everywhere. Please use them. There is nothing worse than unsafe sex.” The man wagged his finger at them like a strict schoolteacher, then straightened his too large black bowtie. It nudged against his Adam’s apple it was so tall. “And if you’re going to use those condoms, please do so in the designated rooms. No sex in the halls allowed.”

Strict place, Austin thought as the man walked them to a closed door on the opposite side of the lobby. He’d been to a few sex clubs before and they usually allowed sex in the halls. That was the point.

“Enjoy your evening.” The man turned the door handle, holding the door open for them. “And remember,” he said just as Austin passed him. “Anytime you’re interested in delivering, you just let me know.”

The door closed behind them with a final clang, the darkness embracing them, and Austin reached for Michaela’s hand again, guiding her through the narrow hallway until they entered what appeared to be the main room.

It was an open floor plan, the room large, the ceilings tall, and he glanced up, saw that the second floor balcony was visible above, as was the third. The layout of the building was designed as a circle with rooms surrounding the main floor. A tall, round stage was in the center of the room and it wasn’t empty.

A red velvet couch sat in the middle of the stage, and a couple wrapped around each other perched upon it. They were engrossed in a passionate kiss, their naked bodies entwined, hands everywhere, legs everywhere, the sound of their lips connecting echoing throughout the room.

Austin figured there was a mic on the couple so that everyone could hear them. They were attractive, the woman curvier than Michaela, the man very tall, very thin and very white. His hair was almost black, the thick hair on his chest just as dark, and the woman’s hand slid across the expanse, her fingers sinking into the curling hair.