He chuckles at that, seemingly friendly, but all I can think is that he’s picturing her naked, minus a collar. And that it rolled off her tongue without a smidgen of hesitation.
“Let me know if you two need a private reservation. We’ve still got a couple of rooms open tonight.” He leans in closer, his gaze set on me. “We have some clientele who prefer them young, so your girl here is going to be a sparkly jewel in any of the group areas.”
Rena does look young, even with the mask on. Her skin has that youthful sheen and plumpness to it that emerges in the teen years. How young do these members want their girls? That thought has my gut churning. But they required proof that she was eighteen when we registered, so I push that away, not permitting my head to cloud with old ghosts.
“Noted,” I say with a crooked grin. “I’ll be sure to make things clear. I appreciate the heads-up.”
He strides away to another customer, but something about the entire exchange has me restless.
We don’t have time to stick around and chat with him though, so I glide my hand along Rena’s lower back and take her hand to help her up. “Let’s go explore, baby girl.”
She bites her lip, widens her eyes, and nods in an exaggerated sex-kitten gesture that serves as a sufficient cover and has the guys laughing into the comm. “Tonight’s song is ‘Tom’s Diner,’ ” she announces.
“Ahh.” I lean close to her cheek, excited to show how well I understand her. “Because we aren’t here to partake. We’re observing, distant.”
“God, you’re good,” she breathes.
Threading our fingers together, we stroll through the main area. Due to the exclusivity and privacy laws, there are no cameras up here. So, Liam and Gage can only view through our lens, which is disconcerting, to say the least. We rarely work without several angles.
“We’re tracking one security guard per every fifteen people,” Gage concludes.
I lean toward Rena as though I’m whispering in her ear, which also points my lapel cam in the direction I’m referencing. “There are a few disguised as waitstaff. Penguin suits.”
“Lots of eyes,” Liam states as we turn the corner to venture down the hall toward the play areas. “But they aren’t used to dealing with anything stiffer than bananas in fruit salad, so you got this.”
“Brilliant use of puns.” Rena giggles, glancing up at me whilewe pass another couple, but responding to Liam. “How many more of those you got stored up?”
“Plenty where that came from,” he boasts. “I’m a never-ending vault of smart-ass remarks, Moonshine. Don’t you worry.”
Playrooms are to the left, offices to the right, changing rooms straight ahead. We breeze past the intersecting hallways toward the locker rooms. It’s evident that there is a manager in the main office, which we need to cross through, but there is another manager walking toward us, so I stop her to fling a myriad of questions about which areas are still available tonight.
She patiently responds to each one, and when Rena throws out a few of her own queries, I swipe the key card from her that I assume opens the office door. Thanking her for her time and determining that we want to explore a little longer, we go on our way. I guide Rena a little farther toward the corridor with private rooms so we can feign peeking while I give the go-ahead for the plan we discussed if security was tight.
“It needs to be cut to create an opening.” That’s in reference to the electricity. A quick bobble with the power should inflict enough commotion to cause management to scurry out and allow us to slip on through.
“Agreed,” Gage volleys. “We’ve got a second diversion on standby as well, should you get cornered. Let us know when you’re ready.”
Before we can respond, two men and a lady mosey out of the changing rooms and block our route. Like everyone back here, their attire drips with wealth-drenched depravity. At first, it seems as though they’re a throuple, but on further inspection, it looks like a couple with a friend, who are all simply open.
The single guy casts his thirsty gape on Rena. “You look familiar, sweet thing. You been here before?”
“Never,” I reply for her.
We purposely had her wear a wig and avoided as many people as we could downstairs, so that should anything go wrong, LittleMoon’s presence would not be shared. I assumed most of these people would be unfamiliar with her from the few nights she sang. The clubs are connected, but act as separate entities, catering to different customers while also offering an excuse for someone who wouldn’t want any association with a sex club. But this guy may have seen her here last month. Thankfully, he can’t seem to place her.
“She must resemble someone then.” He can’t peel his eyes from her as he mutters that. “Are you two interested in company?”
“I don’t play well with others,” I reply, to which Gage and Liam cackle in my ear.
This asshole has the nerve to lick his lips, murmuring, “That’s a shame,” like a spellbound moron.
Jesus, I’m not fucking cut out for this shit. He’s quite possibly a decent human being, and we are in a goddamn sex club, but if he drools over my wife for one more second, I’m going to knock his teeth out.
“Are you gonna move? Or am I going to move you?” That’s the most civility I can muster. Hopefully, he views it as the gift it is.
Rena’s palm lands on my chest in a blatant reprimand, telling me to calm down, her voice as smooth as honey. “You’ll have to forgive us. It’s our first time here, and my guy isn’t the sharing type. It’s been a lot to digest. But we appreciate the offer.”
The drooling moron’s mouth quirks with haughty amusement, which only boils my blood.
