Three Hard Lessons (Blindfold Club 2)

Like Nina, I was a total freak about staying in shape. Joseph had a light hand about our figures. One of his girls would have to lose quite a bit of tone for him to say something, but the truth was we all wanted to look our best. Someone you’d pay top dollar for. And of course, there was healthy competition between us. I’d like to think I had the best rack out of the group, and we were all natural. Maybe I had the best legs, too. I was slightly taller than average and the phrase “legs for days” had been thrown my way a few times.

As I sat down on the leather-cushioned tabletop, I tucked a lock of hair behind an ear. I contrasted nicely with Nina’s blonde as I was a brunette. My hair color was too dark to really call auburn, but subtle hints of red came out in sunlight, or now in the low, chandelier glow of the room.

The black leather squealed against my bare skin as I slid down to lie flat on my back. Even though the tables were identical in all six rooms, this twin mattress-sized table felt softer than the others. Nina passed me the black blindfold and I hurried to slip the two elastic straps over the back of my head. A tug brought the blindfold down over my eyes, and I descended into the familiar darkness.

My breath picked up. Not with excitement for whatever the person who came in was going to do to me, but with hope. Hope that the thrill of doing this would return. It’d been at least two months since I’d felt anything more than mild interest during a session. I’d been seeing Mr. Red almost exclusively. Maybe that was the cause.

Nina gently took one of my wrists in her hands and set about securing the satiny straps around it.

“Ready?” her smoky voice asked.

“Yeah.”

She took my other wrist by my side and wrapped the Velcro closed, securing me to the table. I tested the restraints, which only allowed a few inches of movement, and Nina must have been satisfied because she spoke into her earpiece.

“Room One is ready, you can send the client in.”

Her heels clicked across the floor as she went to the white wingback chair perched in the corner of the room. She probably wouldn’t be seated for long, unless one of the girls in another room had an appointment with a member. Joseph didn’t allow more than one client in the hall at a time for the client’s privacy.

Blindfolded and strapped down, I was left with nothing to do but think and wait.

I was kidding myself about my loss of interest being tied to Mr. Red. I didn’t want to admit what had happened when I asked Evie and Logan to share their bed with me two months ago. It had been fucking amazing, and insanely hot, but it had started a slow burn in me that I could not put out.

I had no regrets about what happened, and they didn’t seem to either, but . . . fuck. I wanted what they had. Their connection to each other. I wanted a bond to another person that was so strong, nothing could break it.

Even as Logan was with me, it had been all about her. I’d been the appetizer to her main course. I needed someone to look at me the way Logan looked at her. It dominated my thoughts when it should have been the men I was servicing.

So now all I could do was hope the man who walked through the door tonigh

t would make me feel something again, and if not, that he’d distract from the powerful loneliness threatening to consume me.

The door creaked open and there was a sound as Nina rose to stand.

“Good evening, sir.” God, her voice was sexy. “Please, come in.”

Heavy yet hesitant footsteps approached, but stopped several feet away from the table, followed with a sharp intake of breath.

“This one,” Nina continued, “is our club’s finest.”

“Holy shit,” a deep, male voice rang out, filled with appreciation.

“Is this your first visit?”

His hurried breathing was nice to listen to. I liked the power I held, how the sight of my naked flesh had affected him.

“Yes,” he uttered on a breath.

“Don’t be shy. You’re more than welcome to look, and I’m sure she’s eager to meet you.”

Yes, mystery man with deep pockets. Come closer. Will you challenge me tonight?

One footstep. Another. The heavy breathing was nearby now, and I pictured him standing right beside the table, looming over me.

“How did you hear about this place?” she asked.

“Another customer . . .” He trailed off like he was having difficulty focusing. Good. Let him be distracted while we negotiated the purchase price.

“A referral? That’s great. Are you originally from Chicago?”