I’ve even noticed that she has a laugh which she only reserves for Henry, and it makes my blood boil.
I’m not a man who gets jealous. I’ve never been that guy. But the way she smiles with Henry is enough to change me. To make me want things I have no right to want.
I pat my forehead with a towel before stalking to the kitchen. I finish my glass of water in three gulps, chased with a shot of Macallan that drags a path of fire down my throat.
I slap my palms against the stone countertop and drop my head, attempting to ground myself. The workout helped, but it’s not enough. Not when every time I close my eyes I’m haunted by blond hair and those jade eyes.
I need something stronger than endorphins and whisky tonight.
I need to rein in what I feel is slipping—self-restraint.
Ruby Lounge has always been good for that. It’s exclusive, discreet, the perfect place to clear my head and relieve my stress.
At Ruby Lounge, anonymity is sacred, and complications don’t exist. It’s a sanctuary where indulgence is currency and members can unleash their reckless desires.
A place where I can forget about creative directors in tight skirts.
Chapter Eleven
Gemma
I fish out the keys to my Paddington flat and collapse on my sofa the moment I cross the threshold. The week dragged on at a snail’s pace, and I only caught glimpses of Max in passing. But every time I tried to approach him, I was always interrupted.
I’ve watched him swan through the office in his sleek designer suits. The man is so handsome, I swear he could cause a heart attack just from a glance.
The most infuriating part? He knows exactly how good he looks.
On the rare occasion we locked eyes in the corridor or shared kitchenette, he shot me that arrogant smirk, like he knows my career is hanging in the balance and he holds the power.
I bet the bastard gets off on it.
Louise and Theo gave their pitch this afternoon. It was decent—not incredible, but I can’t deny that they did a good job, as much as it pains me to admit it. Max hasn’t made his decision yet, and ever since, Louise has been circling him like a cat in heat. Honestly, I’m surprised she hasn’t rubbed up against him or dropped down on all fours.
I need to find the right moment with Max, away from prying eyes. A chance to make my case without the risk of Louise nearby.
My phone vibrates and I pull it from my pocket to find a ping from KinkApp. Perhaps this is exactly what I need to escape the chaos swirling around me.
A quick shag to relieve the stress.
I swipe to check his profile. Tim. Thirty-eight. He’s cute—tall, built, with the right interests ticked. Size king, which is important. Into toys, breath play, foot fetish (not my usual thing, but who am I to yuck someone’s yum? I peer at my feet—not bad), and he’s open to arse play.
KinkApp is a paid dating app, and most users are working professionals at an executive level. Listing club memberships in profiles is practically a status symbol in London’s scene.
Scanning Tim’s profile, I spot Ruby Lounge amongst his memberships. I know it well—the exclusive club sits above the Mayfair Lounge, my regular spot with Anna and April. There’s a separate entrance behind the Mayfair, which is for members only, and they don’t let just anyone through those doors. The vetting process is rigorous—interviews, background checks, the works. It’s expensive, but safe play is top priority.
Particularly when it comes to strangers.
If I’m going to mess around, Ruby Lounge is my preferred meeting place. I refuse to invite men into my personal space. It’s a safety precaution. I don’t like them to know where I live. That’s something my mum instilled in me from an early age, with good reason.
The girls only know half of what really goes on at Ruby Lounge. I’ve divulgedsomedetails, but it’s much more my scene than theirs.
Fortunately for Tim, I’m also a member.
His photos show a body covered in tattoos and muscle, neatly trimmed facial hair, and dark eyes that hold promise. He’s cute enough to help me forget my problems for a night.
I accept his ping and moments later, three dots appear, indicating he’s typing a message.
Tim:Hey.
