Page 56 of A Song for You

Moments later, the elevator doors open, and I’m met by hallways lit only by rope lights on the floor and the sounds of music mixed with moans. I slip my phone out of my pocket and call Cat. A phone rings down the hall when I do, so I stride toward the sound.

“You’re cheating,” she whispers.

I laugh with relief, knowing she’s close. “You really want to hide from me up here?”

She hums into the phone. I can picture her biting her lip as she finally replies, “Yes, I think I do.”

“Then you better be ready to run.”

Thirty-Two

Cat

Secret by Maroon 5

Istare at the black screen of my phone. He hung up on me. I press myself against the wall, breathing deeply. Time to make a plan.

The low thrum of the music matches the pulse between my legs and the beating of my heart. It’s exhilarating. With this wig, no one will recognize me, and I’m wandering the halls of a place I have no business being. My thighs clench in anticipation at the moans of ecstasy coming from a woman nearby. And when his heavy footsteps sound down the hall, I practically squeal in excitement.

Stopping at the first door I come to, I twist the knob and brace myself for what I might find. Fortunately, door number one leads to nothing but another hallway. At the quickening of his footsteps behind me, I sprint toward the end.

“Oh, Kitten,” he purrs, his pace slow, like he has all the time in the world. Like he knows he’ll eventually get what he wants.

I dip behind a nearby curtain in hopes of avoiding being caught so soon. As I spin around, a man growls “on your knees,” and I practically faint.

Before I can react, a hand clamps around my mouth and pulls me backward. I bite and nip and attempt to kick.

“Shh, Kitten, I got you,” he murmurs in my ear.

The man in front of me, I now realize, is talking to someone else. And she’s now dropped to her knees. In front of her is another woman who’s sitting on a throne—an actual throne—her legs spread wide.

I swear my eyes pop out of my head. What. The. Fuck?

“Now what?” the woman on her knees practically pants, her attention fixed dutifully on the man towering over her.

“Crawl to her,” he directs.

The woman doesn’t hesitate. She places her palms on the floor and inches forward, her hips swaying as she does. The woman on the throne has hair so dark it’s almost black and supple red lips. Her smoky eyes are trained on the redhead crawling to her in light pink lace lingerie, her creamy white ass exposed for both of her partners to enjoy.

Without permission, a moan escapes from deep in my throat. At the sound, Jay pulls me back until we’re hidden behind the curtain but with a view of the actions playing out on the other side.

“Is this what you want, Kitten? You want to watch?” he murmurs against my neck, nipping at my skin and making me whimper an involuntary yes.

When the woman reaches the throne, she turns back to look at the man. As she does, her eyes meet mine and light up in excitement. She wants an audience.

And I want to watch.

What the hell is wrong with me?

“She likes it too,” Jay whispers.

I arch into him, desperate to know if he’s as affected by the scene as I am.

He chuckles against my ear, knowing exactly what I’m doing, his fingers raking through the strands of the wig. “Blond? Really?”

I lean back so I can look at him. “That’s what you like, isn’t it?” I whisper, challenge in my tone.

He locks eyes with me, his expression hard, and shakes his head. “What I like is you. Blond, brunette, fucking panting over two women together, whatever you like, Kitten. However you are, that’s what I want.”