The driver stops the car and Dex pays and pushes his door open. I want to ask him more, but I realize he’s given me an honest and complete answer. If either Nate or Julia came with us, everything I would do I would have wondered what they thought about me doing it. I never knew Dex was actually…intelligent and thoughtful.
Dex stands on the curb of the sidewalk as I slide across the backseat. He holds out a hand and helps me climb out.This is where I find chivalry alive and well, on the way to a sex club.
I clear my throat quietly. “But what aboutyoubeing with me?” I ask.
He looks down the street and back toward me. “We have a truce, remember? And you wouldn’t care what I think about any of this. If there’s one person you won’t perform in front of, Jane, it’s me.”
Maybe he’s right. Why would I care what Dex Vanstone thought of me? We’ve spent most of our professional relationship butting heads with one another. Gail seems to get a big kick out of us competing, and honestly, I think our best work comes out of it. We’re good at being opponents.
Dex escorts me to an indistinct door where he presses a small red button and a chime echoes out from deep inside the building.
I’m so nervous I could faint.
A small square peephole slides open in the middle of the door. “May I help you?” A deep voice asks from behind the door.
Dex leans forward and whispers some mysterious-sounding password. I could almost swear it sounded something like, “We’re here to see the wizard.” Whatever secret thing he said, it makes the door unlock with a low buzzing sound.
A huge burly man stands on the other side, and Dex hands him both of our invitations. The club vets all their patrons, but I’m still a little wary. You could find out if someone is disease-free, sure, but can you tell by their paperwork if they’re serial killers with a penchant for thick girls with a serious reading addiction.
I think not.
I’m staring down at the floor, when the burly man wishes us an enjoyable evening, and Dex reaches down and slides his palm against mine. I snap my eyes up to his, a little taken aback, but his expression is open and friendly as he threads his fingers with mine.
“Come on, Nash. Let’s get your research done.”
I breathe out a sigh; I shouldn’t freak out every time Dex touches me, it doesn’t mean anything. He’s helping me out because, well, this shit is crazy and terrifying and thrilling all rolled into one. And I’m quite sure Dex frequents these sorts of establishments on a weekly basis; how else would he get laid?
We find ourselves walking through an enormous Manhattan loft—a large open area with a gourmet kitchen, a living room that hosts lavish furniture, and a full windowed wall with a skyline view of the city. I can’t even imagine what the rent of this place must be. I’ve lived in New York City all my life, and I’ve never stepped foot in a home like this before.
We climb up a narrow flight of stairs and enter a private back room. We’re hit with the smell of lavender as soon as we walk through the door. I pause for a minute and look around. Immediately I’m intimidated with how many beautiful people there are inside. Everyone is well-dressed, young, and fairly attractive. I feel like Dex and I don’t belong here. Maybe he does, but definitely not me.
Couples sit cuddled together on luxurious couches, others stand in groups and talk. My shoulders feel tight and heavy.
“Why do you look like that?” Dex spins on me and brings our entwined hands up between us. “What is going on in that head of yours?”
I giggle at the position he just spun us in; we look thick as thieves, like close friends sharing an intimate private conversation. He’s trying to make me feel comfortable and safe when he knows how vulnerable I could be here. I guess Dex the doucherocket isn’t such a douche after all. “I imagined this place very differently.”
“Oh yeah, what did you imagine?” he asks looking down at me with a crooked smile.
I lift up onto my tippy toes and whisper against his ear, “A bunch of people with extreme fetishes, or odd old pervs standing in dark corners, tugging on themselves as naked women walked around.”
“I see,” he chuckled, darkly. He releases my hand and his grip falls to my waist. The touch is gentle and warm, and I find myself feeling like there’s too much air in my lungs, too much heat in my veins.
I step away, blushing, pretending I’m looking around the room for something or someone. “I even imagined there might be torture devices and those kinds of things…” my voice trails off.
Dex hasn’t moved, he’s staring down at me without an expression I can figure out. “They’re in the other rooms.”
Oh fuck, really?
“How about a drink?”
“Yes please.”
“What would you like?”
I feel like this is a loaded question. “What are you going to have?” I ask back.
He gives me a knowing smile. “I’ll choose then, shall I?”
