But this is like nothing I could ever imagine. There is a huge, and I mean huge, muscled guy with his jeans around his ankles sitting in a massive leather recliner. His head is thrown back and his eyes are closed. One woman is on her knees in front of his lap, and she is…
Oh, sweet Lord.
She is literally giving him oral sex right here in front of everyone while another woman holds her hair back.
I feel a rush of heat flood my cheeks, and I tear my eyes away from them. But when I look the other direction, I see a woman wearing only a thong bottom, her breasts totally exposed, as she lies back on a coffee table. Two guys and a girl are snorting something off her belly.
I swallow hard, and my legs start to lock up. Where the hell am I? Shadow may not be a serial killer, but what the heck kind of a place is this? A sex dungeon?
If I’m staying here, will I be expected to participate?
Everywhere I look, people are drinking, laughing, talking loudly, seemingly oblivious to the fact that there is a freaking tropical storm raging outside. A couple of women wearing only push-up bras and underwear are playing strip poker with two fully dressed guys at a folding table. I recognize the two girls from outside because they are now making out with each other, their hair drenched from the rain, while the one who didn’t vomit writhes in the lap of a heavily tattooed guy with a leather vest that matches Shadow’s.
Now that I notice it, a ton of the men here are wearing leather vests. They all seem to match, and?—
“Violet.” He says my name so close to my ear, I nearly jump out of my skin.
Before I can reply, we’re approached by a tall man with black hair and a beard—and so many tattoos, I can’t find any bare skin except his face.
The man is wearing a vest like Shadow’s and a glare that could melt the paint off my car. I curl my toes, and a shiver of real fear shimmies down my spine. I slide a little closer to Shadow, where I feel at least a little bit safer, as crazy as that seems. I guess it’s true what they say about the devil you know…
Shadow suddenly steps forward and clasps the giant in a half hug. It’s like watching tattooed polar bears prepare for a brawl. I’m not sure whether to be scared or fascinated.
“You back from work?” the new guy asks, his low voice somehow cutting through the noise.
Shadow shakes his head. “Didn’t go as planned. Unexpected development got in the way.”
The other man cocks his chin and narrows his eyes. He’s looking at me. Me. I’m the unexpected development.
“This is Violet,” Shadow says, jerking a thumb at me. “She’ll be crashing here tonight.” Then he turns to me. “Violet, this is Phantom.”
I don’t know if it’s the terror of the storm, the strangeness of my situation, or some deranged sense of self-destruction, but I laugh. I laugh. And then I start rambling. “Phantom? It’s so nice to meet you. Thank you for having me. I?—”
The deadly glare on Phantom’s face has me zipping my lips so fast I can almost feel the words stop cold in my throat.
Phantom growls, an actual growl deep in his chest, and shakes his head. “She’s your problem,” he tells Shadow. “Unless you’ve got your hands full with Malcolm. Do I need to handle one of them?”
Shadow shakes his head and grabs my arm roughly. “I’ve got him and her under control. Natural fucking disaster out there. Work can wait one more day.”
Phantom grunts this time, definitely a very different sound, but Shadow seems to know exactly what that means.
“Let’s go,” Shadow says, tugging on my arm.
I follow him through the smoky room, unable to keep my eyes off the people talking, smoking, playing darts, and drinking. Oh, there is so much drinking. I see what looks like a serious bar, with refrigerators behind it and two really gorgeous women who look like they’re bartending.
“Hey, sexy.” A brunette with a dragon tattooed all the way up her left arm and shoulder leans forward on the bar. “Whatcha drinkin’, Shadow?”
I try to ignore the incredibly inappropriate pangs of jealousy that creep through my chest as Shadow talks to the skinny woman with what look like startlingly large boobs. She’s pretty, like really pretty, and when she turns her back to us to grab whatever Shadow asked for, I can’t help but notice his eyes following her.
Ugh.
In my yellow sundress and cute sneakers, I feel about as out of place as a zebra in a lion’s den. A sudden bubble pops inside me, that little bit of excitement about my new life bursting as I look around and realize, even at thirty-two years old, I’ll never stop feeling uncool. Like I don’t fit in. I’ve been an outsider looking in most of my life.
The more I glance around, the more I see. Posters of motorcycles and half-naked women on the walls. So many guys, each scarier than the next, all dressed in denim and leather and wearing heavy boots… Motorcycle boots.
That’s when it hits me.
I’m not in a sex dungeon. These guys are bikers. This must be their…I don’t know what it is. Clubhouse? Hangout? What did Shadow call it before when he talked about living with his brothers?
