The black SUV pulls up.
Damien gets out, his eyes sweeping over me as he opens the door for me. I slide into the back seat, immaculate, and expensive. He gets in on the other side and we drive to the Opal Room in silence.
Once we are there, I wait. But so does he.
“Take your jacket off,” he tells me. So I do. I’m feeling pretty good about the red gown, and I assume he will too. After all, it’s from the wardrobe he provided for me.
But his expression is not what I was expecting. He looks disappointed.
“Take it off,” he tells me, and I freeze.
“Take–” I stutter.
“The dress,” he snaps as if I should know exactly what he means. “Take it off.”
An incredulous laugh actually bubbles up from my throat. “You want me–”
“I believe I was very clear that you are to wear the lingerie from earlier for tonight’s outing,” he states.
“And I am,” I snap back. Because he has to be fucking crazy if he thinks I am going to just undress and walk from this car to that building in nothing butsee-throughlingerie. “Under the gown.”
Nothing about Damien’s demeanor changes. It’s still just as cold and demanding as before. The tension in the car is enough to make me sweat and send a chill up my spine all at the same time.
“I told you to wear the lingerie. I did not mention your wearing anything else. Nowtake off the dress.”
My heart is slamming into my ribcage, but I still can’t imagine even in my darkest, wildest fantasies that he is being real right now. “You want me to parade in front of everyone outside of the club in nothing but my underwear,” I say.
With a face of stone, he reaches back and produces a long, black fur coat. “You’ll be wearing this. Until we get inside. Then you will check your coat in and wear nothing but the lingerie as discussed. If you aren’t willing to comply with the description of the job, Miss Bates, you are free to use the safe word and beon your way. You’ll be gifted a generous severance package after signing an NDA.”
“Jesus Christ,” I let out. I did not come this far only to come this far. That and I don’t like that he feels like he’s winning. If he wants me to wear nothing but the panties, then nothing but the panties he will get. Because I do look good in them. Hell, I look fucking phenomenal in them. And I will not look insecure right now. Not after everything I’ve been through.
I tug at the thin straps of the dress and pull it down over my body. Luckily, this one has no zippers. It’s just bunchy and stretchy, and I’m able to shimmy out of it without even getting out of the car. I glance at the driver, but he keeps his eyes locked on the windshield, zero expression on his professional face. Wise man.
I hold up my hands, glaring at my boss. “Happy?” I ask, and he swallows hard. I’ve learned in the short time I’ve been around him that when he swallows like that and his jaw tenses in the corners, it means he’s fighting for composure. While I’ve never seen him actually lose composure, that little jaw tick hints that somewhere under his granite exterior, he may in fact be human, pulsing blood, beating heart, empathetic emotions and all.
Damien doesn’t answer, and I don’t expect him to. Instead, he gets out of the car and walks around to my side. Then he opens the door, holds up the fur coat and waits for me to step into it. I have to admit; fur coats aren’t really my vibe. Then again, neither are gentlemen’s clubs. All of this feels like a fantasy, and considering the unromantic day-to-day life of being a poor, single mom, I can’t bring myself to walk away from it.
Once we are inside, Damien delivers on his word. He removes the coat, letting it slide down my body before checking it in at the counter. He takes my hand and guides me through the door. The warm air smells like the inside of a Bath and Body Works store and lingers in the air as we walk through the stageroom. I watch the girls slowly twirl and bend around the poles. I’m not dressed much differently from them right now. And that’s when I notice, as we weave through the tables, many of the glances men are giving me aren’t much different from the ones those girls are receiving either.
“Eyes on me,” Damien says sharply, and I snap my attention back to him. Then, his tone softens a little, surprising me.
“I like the heels,” he says.
I almost tell him that Jocelyn lent them to me, but decide against it.
“Thank you,” I say sweetly, and I feel his hand clench in mine.
Word by word, step by step, pouty glance by pouty glance, I’m learning all of this. I’m learning how to act, how to look, how to stand, how to walk, how to speak. I’m learning Damien Graves. And let me tell you…it’s the sexiest language I’ve ever spoken in my life.
I don’t have to look at the men to know their eyes are on me. I canfeeltheir eyes on my skin. I can sense their hard cocks in their slacks. I can smell the whiskey on their breaths as their lips part as I walk past.
The bra is nearly see-through, lacy and hot red, lifting my tits just enough to showcase them. The panties are a thong, cut high on the sides, and cling to the fullest part of my hips. They plunge down to cover my pussy, which I always make sure is well-manicured for him. Opaque tights have garters attached to them, and the garters are tight enough to move with me. I am wearing less for this entire room than I typically wear for one lucky man. And it feels…hot.
I keep my eyes on him. And when I do let them sweep the room, they do just that. No eye contact unless it’s at other women, women who know Damien and want Damien and can’t have Damien. Any time I feel too much attention in mydirection, too many eyes on my peeking nipples and exposed ass, I run my fingertips up his arm, smiling at him from the side.
Damien’s lips tip in the hint of a cocky smirk, and I tuck that little piece of satisfaction in my pocket... that yes, I am good at this. I belong here with the dancers and the women who are bending and leaning and laughing and drinking. As we make our way into the Velvet Lounge, a room where only the elite can go, the bar is high. Nearly unreachable. Everyone in this room is made of gold, and no one on the outside has enough money.
As we make our way through the hall, I assume we are going to the bar, but we pass it.
