Page 3 of Painted Truths

As our host reaches the second door, with a matching black and gold sign marked simply as VIP Only, Brielle turns the handle so I can hear the music, which up until now has been a semi-muted bass thumping through the walls.

Dance music roars to life, the beat dropping as though on cue as we enter the area reserved just for Caden's and our pleasure by proxy.

The space is a suspended box with floor-to-ceiling glass walls. This allows us to observe the club below without the masses losing their shit over the presence of one Caden North, lead singer of Misdirection and bad boy extraordinaire, like the paps had done already upon our arrival. The area comprises plush black velvet booths and matching high-backed chairs with gold cushions strewn artfully across them, all set around low black tables with gold accents. There is a long black bar underneath spotlights in the far corner, along with another set of stairs which, I assume, leads to the main club but is currently being blocked off by a rope alongside a huge ass security guard wearing a scowl to rival my own.

"The management here at Velvet has provided a range of drinks, and a server shall be with you shortly. The dance floor and main club area can be reached via those stairs, and Burt will be on duty all night, so you won't be bothered by anyone unless you, the hosts, wish to bring guests up here."

Brielle glances in Caden's direction, blatantly having done her due diligence, a knowing smirk on her pretty face before she continues. "If you go back out the way we entered, you'll find a door to your right. Those are your private facilities, The Powder Room, for the evening."

The door opens once more, and in walks who I presume is our bartender for the night.

"Ah, here's Toby now."

He nods in our direction before taking his place behind the bar.

"There is also a private roof terrace reserved solely for your pleasure if you go back through here." She indicates behind us with one delicately manicured hand. "You can't miss it."

Placing her hands on her ample hips while arching her back to push her tits out front and centre, our host's lips turn up in a provocative smile.

"I shall check back in with you every twenty minutes or so, gentlemen. If there's anything you need. Anything. At. All. Please, don't hesitate."

She exits the same way we had come in, with a saucy wink and a matching smirk that encompasses our trio.

"Did you see the tits on that one?"

Caden is most certainly the tit man of our motley crew, not that you'd know it to look at his long-term main squeeze, who looks like she's stepped off a runway but has no curves to speak of.

Nate and I, though, are most definitely ass men.

"Was too busy looking at her ass." Nate confirms my thoughts as he continues. "Didn't hear a word she said, to be honest. Too busy thinking about how hot my cock would look between her perfect cheeks."

"Which cheeks, friend?" Cade shoots a devilish look his way as Nate just shrugs.

"Either would do. That mouth was entirely as fuckable as that ass."

"And with that thought in mind, let's get this party fucking started." Caden makes quick work of getting the drinks in, not bothering to avail of the ready and waiting bartender, instead opting to grab some bottles and a handful of shot glasses before settling down between Nate and me to observe the already heaving dance floor.

The music has changed to some familiar song; the guy is singing about just wanting to know someone’s name, and the dancefloor goes apeshit when the bass drops; I even see Nate manage a foot tap or two, bringing a smile to my lips.

"Christ almighty. This place is un-fucking-real! Check out the view." The dance floor is teeming with swarms of barely dressed women of all shapes and sizes. In varying states of deshabille, just how we like it.

Someone must have researched the shit out of Caden and his proclivities to have this place set up like it has been made for us. And us alone.

"Is that Alex? That is not Alex!" Caden's brow is furrowed as he looks my way.

"What? Where?"

It doesn't take long to locate my estranged younger brother in the multitude of gyrating bodies. We both got our father's significant height, so it's relatively easy to spot him head and shoulders above most others.

Alex.

Fuck.

I've lost track of how long it's been. My stomach sinks as unwanted images play across my field of vision, but blissfully, I lose my train of thought as my half-brother moves to the side, letting me glimpse the absolute goddess he's dancing with.

Her head tosses back, allowing her long blonde hair to graze the curve at the base of her spine, highlighting an ass that makes my palms itch with the desire to squeeze those perfectly proportioned peachy cheeks. Her high-waisted black leather pants are moulded to her body like a second skin, and as she turns to face me, my breath falters.

With her eyes closed and her face turned upwards, an array of colours from the club's strobe lights dance across her body, while she sways seductively to the sultry beat. Then, raising her hands above her head keeping her eyes closed, her lips lift ever so slightly in a barely-there smile.