“Aisling,” I provide. “Just… Aisling.” It’s probably a mistake to give him my real name, but I’ve already forgotten the alias I’d intended on using, and I’m too tongue-tied to come up with one on the spot.
“Aisling,” he repeats, his voice caressing my name like it’s the sweetest of desserts. “A beautiful name. I’m Rafael. My friends call me Raf.”
God, even his name sounds sexy.Rafael, like the archangel—or the famous Renaissance painter.
Somehow, I get the feeling he’s more than just an artist in name. And I want to find out.
He holds out his hand, his skin a rich tan beneath the neon lights, and mine is startlingly pale in comparison when I reach out to take it. But rather than shake, like I expect, he curls my fingers around his—and lifts my knuckles to his mouth.
Electricity jolts up my arm and straight to my heart as his lips brush softly across my fingers, his eyes holding mine the entire time.
Then slowly, he releases me, his amusement growing as my mute silence stretches.
He asked you a question,I remind myself, but it takes me a moment to recall what it was. “Just curious,” I breathe. “A few of my friends were talking about the club not too long ago, so I thought I’d check it out.”
There. Finally, something that sounds casual.
I breathe a sigh of relief and feel the trickle of warmth in my veins as the shot of whiskey starts to kick in.
That’s all I needed.
A little liquid courage.
“Well, I’m glad you did,” Raf says, his dark eyes playful yet somehow spine-tinglingly intense. “Would you like someone toshow you around?” he offers. “I’d be happy to serve as your… guide for the night.”
Is that how it’s done? Just sit at the bar, catch a man’s eye, then let him… lead the way?
My palms feel clammy with nervous anticipation. I want to know. I want to learn what all the fuss is about, have my own experiences so I’m not just the innocent little virgin who does nothing more than become the perfect little wife. But God, I can barely keep my heart from leaping out of my throat.
And it takes all my courage to swallow the racing organ back down to my chest so I can speak. “I think I’d like that,” I say with far more confidence than I feel.
With a nod, Raf stands, unfolding to his full, impressive height, and he offers me his hand once more.
I take it, allowing him to help me off my stool, and warmth pulses through my core as his other hand finds the small of my back.
He guides me through the club’s spacious main room, leaning close to murmur near my ear as he gestures to the secluded alcoves. “Those areas are open seating, first come, first served,” he explains, his warm breath caressing my skin. “If you don’t mind something a bit more…inclusive.”
I swallow hard, seeing what he means as my eyes land on a couple that have stripped naked, the man bending the woman over the table at the center of their alcove as he thrusts inside her for all to see.
Several people linger near the alcove’s entrance, watching, drinks in hand.
One bystander has his hand down his pants, rubbing himself openly.
My mouth goes dry, the heat climbing up my neck until I’m certain my cheeks must be nearing the color of a tomato, and my eyes drop to the ground.
I am so not ready for that.
“Don’t worry,” Raf assures me, gently steering me toward the back of the room and a hallway at the far corner that I hadn’t noticed until now. “If you’d prefer something more private, there are rooms for that as well.”
The club’s music becomes more muted as we step into the purple-lit hall.
Doors with numbers line both walls.
An elevator stands at the far end, a hulking guard looming beside it.
That seems to be where we’re headed as Raf guides me down the hallway.
I catch the sound of soft moans and deep, guttural grunts from within the rooms.
