“Of course I want to see more. How can I judge you unless I’m aware of the full package.”
“Judge me?”
He grins. “Don’t judge me too harshly, little angel, because after tonight you may just realize that we are not so different after all.”
As his warning, or is it a promise, rings in my ears, he pulls me after him through the dark space toward another set of doors at the end and I guess that when I learn what hides behind them, I will never be the same again.
CHAPTER 31
SIMEON
Imust have lost my mind. Why do I possess this urgent need to bear my sinful soul to an angel? She will be horrified, disgusted even, but I am determined she sees the whole of me before we begin whatever this is.
I am second-guessing my decision as we step into hell, and as the door closes behind us, she whispers, “What is this place?”
“Sin.”
We move to a gallery that circles an area below us, and as I drag her over to the side, her gasp of horror crushes me inside.
“Are they?”
She stills as she witnesses the show, several spectators on the gallery along with us observing the couples performing sexual acts below.
“Yes, Alice. They are fucking strangers for fun. Anyone can join in; you merely have to pass a screening process before you are permitted to join in the fun.”
Her breath hitches as she stares at the scene in horror, and yet she moves to the side, her hand clutching the rail as she watches the scene.
“Is this illegal?”
“No”
“No?”
Her gaze flicks my way and I shrug. “I have a license and pay the authorities to turn a blind eye. In fact, many of the top people at City Hall are members and protect their hobby well.”
“That’s…” Her voice trails off as she regards the scene and stills as she stares at a couple of guys fucking one woman between them.
“Do you?” Her question hangs in mid-air, and I shake my head. “No, my hobby is more private.”
“Your hobby?”
She shakes her head in astonishment. “You call this a hobby? Why couldn’t you collect stamps or something like a normal guy, or go bowling?”
“I’ll show you my stamp collection later.”
I wink, causing her to giggle, and I’m unsure if it’s out of nerves or mere giddiness.
“Come.” I guide her to a vacant room set into the wall surrounding the gallery and wonder if I’m about to drive the final nail into the coffin of our marriage before the ink has even dried on the contract.
We enter the private room, and as I lock the door behind us, she raises her eyes. “Why?”
“Privacy. This room is now occupied and we won’t be disturbed.”
She tenses and I chuckle softly. “Don’t worry, angel, it’s merely to keep the customers out while you adjust to my world.”
“I can’t believe it.”
She gazes in disbelief at the practical room designed for pleasure, not comfort. There is a huge padded bench in the center, almost clinical, and on the wall are various sex toys that I’d be surprised if she knows the meaning of.
