Slowly, I pulled from her, and forced her lips to slow their soft, hungry assault so I could just enjoy the shape of her mouth. I ran two fingers over her pu**y, relishing the way she jerked beneath me. Pressing two fingers inside her, I could still feel the heat of the friction, the evidence of my pleasure.

“Dirty f**king girl,” I whispered, pushing deep into her.

I tugged my fingers back and smiled at the way her body seemed unwilling to let me go.

But she needed to stand, and stretch; and I needed to carry on with my night.

I stood, fixing my trousers, and then kneeled to untie her legs. She straightened, arching her back before turning and pushing up to sit on the table, pulling me by my tie to stand between her legs.

“What are you guys doing next?” she asked, smoothing her hands over my dress shirt.

“Dinner, I believe.” I stepped away only long enough to retrieve her robe from the corner of the room. I was done letting others look at her. “And you?”

“Dinner,” she said, shrugging. “Then I’m not sure.” She looked up, gave me a teasing little smile. “Maybe we’ll go to another club.”

“And what?” I asked, laughing. “Watch some blokes in banana hammocks wiggle their tackle in your face? No, Petal.”

Her eyes widened in slight challenge. “Well, you go have your fun night, I’ll go have mine.”

With a smile, I leaned in to kiss her, letting her deepen it with her hands on my face, sliding into my hair and around the back of my neck. “I feel like I could f**k for hours,” she whispered into my mouth, and I almost lost it right then; Sara rarely swore, and when she did, it always made me hard. “I just feel a little hollow with how much I want you tonight.”

I groaned and pressed my face into her neck.

“I know, I know,” she murmured, and when she pressed her hands to my chest, I stepped back so she could stand. “I’m sure Chloe is done. We should go.”

We exited from the same door I’d come in, which, unfortunately, was the only way in or out of the room. I preferred the separate exit at Red Moon. It was one thing to know people were out there; it was another thing to possibly see them.

But luckily whoever had been outside had disbanded before we emerged, most likely having already seen me wrap Sara in her robe. When we passed down the hall, we slipped behind other patrons, and I couldn’t help but wonder, had they seen?

THREE

Bennett Ryan

I couldn’t decide if I felt f**king awesome—I’d basically just gotten my fiancée off in about three minutes in a back room of a swanky sex club—or more worked up and frustrated than I’d been in a long time. Fucking Chloe. The way she left made her little act feel like some sort of punishment for being in Vegas over Valentine’s Day. But, shit, if I knew my fiancée at all, I knew that—no matter our role in the marketing world—she found the whole prospect of a manufactured romantic holiday completely ridiculous. Clearly she just jumped at the opportunity to play a little game and leave me in her favorite state: worked up and pissed off.

And f**king Max. Had he known Chloe was going to tease me like this? And, if he did . . . well, actually that was a little personal and creepy. I’d either have to kick his ass or drop something sleep-inducing into his drink and tattoo “I’m a wanker” in permanent ink all over his face.

But my revenge would have to wait. Max was gone when I returned, and Henry and Will had the glassy-eyed look of two men given booze and women in heaping quantities.

“How goes it out here?” I asked, sitting back in my chair and picking up what I expected to be a mostly empty drink. Except, no. The drink was fresh, my plate of food refilled. I caught Gia’s eyes across the room and raised my glass to her. For all of the mysterious corners and questionable sex acts behind closed doors, the staff was certainly on the job. She nodded to me, smiling, and then disappeared behind the bar. I couldn’t help but notice that, in my time away, she’d removed everything else she wore and was now serving her tables completely nude.

I hoped for her sake it was a pleasant experience. It sounded a bit like one of my own recurring nightmares.

“How was the dancer?” Henry asked, still not bothering to look away from the stage. I probably could have lit his chair on fire and he wouldn’t have noticed until the flames in his hair obstructed his view.

I studied him, trying to discern whether he was in on Chloe’s surprise, but he didn’t grin knowingly or even look all that interested in my answer. Will, too, only looked at me with bland curiosity.