“Um… hello,” I said, stepping up to the desk.
“Membership card?” he asked flatly, still not looking up.
“I don’t have one,” I replied, reaching into my pocket for Raoul’s card. “I’m supposed to meet a man here by the name of Raoul Allard,” I added, placing the card on the desk. “He told me to show you this card when I got here.”
The man, probably in his mid-forties with graying hair, finally looked up. But when his gaze came to rest on the card, he straightened up immediately, putting his book down.
“Oh. Well, if you’re a guest of Mr. Allard, I’ll put you straight through.” He reached behind him and grabbed a key from the wall. It had a little coiled plastic wristband on it. “Locker fourteen,” he said, handing it to me. “Please leave all personal belongings in the locker, including electronics. Nothing but a towel is permitted beyond the locker room.”
“Uh… what?” I blinked a few times, trying to process what he’d said. “I have to meet Raoul…naked?”
The thought didn’t totally turn me off. In fact, it was kind of exciting, though I didn’t understand why yet. He was attractive, sure. But the allure… Well, it was almost too much for a single person to possess.
“Ah,” the man nodded. “Let me explain. This is a bathhouse. Inside you’ll find a locker room, a roman bath beyond that, play rooms, private rooms, private baths, and all sorts of…diversions. This is a men only establishment with complete privacy that caters to both monsters and humans. Mr. Allard has already checked in for the night, so you’ll find him inside. I’m sure he’ll explain the rest.”
A bathhouse. Afuckingbathhouse.
I stood there, probably looking like an idiot, trying to reconcile the image of the impeccably dressed Raoul Allard with a place where everyone wandered around in just towels. Or less.
"I... see," I managed, though I definitely didn't see. "And this is normal? For his business meetings?"
The man gave me a look that suggested he'd heard every excuse and rationalization imaginable. "Mr. Allard conducts many of his private meetings here. He values the...intimacy." There was that word again. "Go on through. Locker room is straight ahead."
I clutched the key in my hand, the plastic coil warm against my palm. Every rational part of my brain screamed at me to leave, to tell Raoul tomorrow that this wasn't appropriate, to maintain professional boundaries like any sane person would.
But the memory of those European real estate holdings and his dark alluring eyes kept my feet moving forward.
The locker room was nicer than I expected. It was clean, modern, with slate tile and warm lighting that actually felt inviting rather than harsh. A few other men moved through the space in various states of undress, and I tried not to stare. Some were clearly human. Others... Well, the guy with scales running down his spine was definitely not. And the werewolf making out with the man on the bench, also no human.
I found locker fourteen and stood in front of it for a long moment, my heart hammering. This was insane. I barely knew this man. But something about Raoul had gotten under my skin during that brief office encounter. The way he'd looked at me, like I was something important. Like I mattered.
Wasn't that what I wanted? To matter?
I started unbuttoning my shirt before I could talk myself out of it. The fabric slid off my shoulders, and I folded it carefully, placing it in the locker. My hands moved to my belt, then my jeans. Soon I was down to my boxer briefs, and I hesitated again.
A stack of white towels sat on a bench nearby. I grabbed one, stripped off the last of my clothes, and wrapped the towel around my waist. My reflection in the mirror showed a nervous but reasonably fit guy who looked like he was about to make either the best or worst decision of his life.
Probably both.
The door leading deeper was next to the open plan showers where several men were doing…activities. I tried not to stare as I pushed through it and was immediately hit with warm, humid air that smelled faintly of eucalyptus and chlorine. The sound of water echoed off tile surfaces, along with low voices and occasional laughter.
The corridor opened into a large room dominated by what could only be described as a roman bath—a massive pool of steaming water with marble columns and ambient lighting that cast everything in a dim, golden glow. Men lounged in the water or along the edges, some talking quietly, others clearly doing more than talking in the dimmer corners. My cock stirred slightly, but I pushed the thoughts away.
I scanned the room, looking for Raoul's distinctive features among the steam and shadows.
"William."
His voice came from behind me, and I spun around. Raoul stood there wearing nothing but a towel slung low on his hips, andJesus Christ, he was even more striking partially undressed. His chest was smooth and pale, his build lean but defined in a way that suggested strength without bulk. Water droplets clung to his skin like he'd just emerged from the bath.
"You came," he said, stepping closer. "I wasn't entirely certain you would."
"You said you had business to discuss," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady and professional.
"I do." His eyes traveled over me slowly, appreciatively. "But I also wanted to see if you were brave enough to step outside your comfort zone. Success requires risks, doesn't it?"
"That's what the book says."
"Ah yes, your transformation." He smiled, revealing those perfect white teeth again. "Tell me, William, has it taught you how to recognize when someone desires you?"
