She shrugged her shoulders. “Half an hour?”
“Fantastic. I’ll be in the bar. Meet you there?”
Sarah offered another nod.
Bill kissed her cheek and then left her standing there, staring after him.
She had to end this. Now. Before it was too late and she got herself in a predicament she couldn’t get out of.
What’re you gonna do? Go home and play with your cats?
Ugh! Sarah did not like that taunting voice. So what if she spent her nights alone. It wasn’t as though she was missing out on anything.
Her mind immediately conjured images of her night with Dylan.
Okay, fine. So yes, that was the type of spark she was looking for. But clearly that wasn’t going to happen with Bill, so going out tonight was just a waste of time. Hers and his.
How do you know if you don’t try?
Gritting her teeth, she ignored the voice in her head and stormed toward the elevator, dress, shoes, and underwear in hand. If her subconscious thought it knew best, she would just have to show it who was boss.
Nearly an hour later, Sarah made her way back to the main floor of the resort, doing her best not to fall and break her neck on the four-inch stilettos the woman had clearly thought accentuated the dress. They did, Sarah couldn’t deny that. But she wasn’t good with heels, regardless of their height.
A slow whistle sounded, and Sarah braced herself when Bill got to his feet and joined her as she stepped into the bar area.
“Wow. That dress…”
Sarah forced a smile and allowed him to kiss her on the cheek again. At least there was one good thing. With the heels, she didn’t feel quite so short.
“Ready?”
She wasn’t, but she nodded anyway.
“The limo’s waiting out front.”
Limo?
He obviously noticed her distress. “Yes, I went all out, I know. But the extra money was worth it.” His smile widened. “Tonight is going to be so worth every penny I spent on the rooms and the dress.”
That’s what he thinks.
Sarah didn’t bother to tell him that she was the one who’d sprung for the dress, as well as her room. Bill clearly thought spending money made him a man, so she’d let him go on thinking that. For now.
Crap.
Bill took her hand and led her to the main entrance of the hotel. She couldn’t help but notice people looking at her as she passed. She wasn’t sure if they were admiring the dress, thinking she was a hired escort, or wondering whether she was going to take a tumble in the heels. The latter was a definite possibility. She attempted to cloak herself in confidence, though she felt like a fraud.
Thankfully, the limo ride was short. Only five minutes alone in the car and they had arrived at their destination.
Devotion.
For some reason, that name sounded familiar to her, but she didn’t know why. Commercial, maybe? From the outside, it looked like a fancy night club. If that was the case, then it was obvious Bill knew nothing about her because the last time she’d been to a club… Crap. She’d probably been in her early twenties? It had never really been her thing.
She was more of a homebody. She would prefer to sit at home with a glass of wine and a good book or a cup of hot tea and a chick flick. That was her idea of a good time, didn’t matter which day of the week it was. Paul had been the same way, so it had worked for them.
The first clue that something was off was the fact that there wasn’t a line to get in, yet there were two huge men standing guard at the front door. They didn’t look like ordinary bouncers, and the reception area definitely didn’t look like the standard nightclub. Not how she remembered them anyway.
A pretty blond was sitting at a glass desk—the type they’d have in a high-end office building—her perfectly manicured hands clasped together on the top. She smiled up at them as they approached.
“We’re on the guest list,” Bill noted sweetly.
The woman peered at the iPad screen. “And your name?”
“Bill Kasin.”
“Ah, yes. Mr. Kasin. You’re Bob Masterson’s guest,” she said politely, obviously recognizing his name. “My name is Emily if you have any questions. We were sad to hear Mr. Masterson couldn’t make it, but glad that you could.”
The woman’s gaze slowly slid over to Sarah, a warm smile on her face. “And your guest tonight is…?”
“Sarah Davis,” Bill offered.
The woman typed in her name on the iPad, then peered up at them both. “I’ll just need you both to review and sign a nondisclosure agreement.” She pointed to a small seating area as she passed over another iPad.
Sarah couldn’t hide her confusion. A nondisclosure agreement? What the hell kind of place was this?
Bill chuckled. “Of course we’ll sign it.”
Without reading the form, Bill signed his name using his finger, then pointed the iPad in her direction. “Your turn.”
Sarah peered down at the device. She started to scan the document, wondering what she was getting herself into, but Bill put his arm around her. “Just sign. It’s good. Bob told me everything I need to know.”
Knowing it wouldn’t make a difference one way or the other, Sarah scribbled what might’ve passed as her signature and took a deep breath.
“You’re good to go in,” the woman said sweetly. “There are a variety of masks available in the changing rooms if you’d like. Theme night and all. Have a wonderful evening.”
Changing rooms? Masks?
What the hell?
“Thank you, Emily,” Bill replied, taking Sarah’s hand and leading her to a door on the left.
It was at that moment, when he pulled that door open and escorted her into the main portion of the club, that Sarah retracted her earlier statement.
The night… It could definitely get worse.
Much, much worse.
DYLAN HADN’T KNOWN EXACTLY WHAT to expect when he arrived at Devotion, but he’d heard enough about the place that he wasn’t surprised.
In fact, it was exactly how he’d envisioned it. That was probably due to the fact that he knew Luke McCoy rather well. The man seemed to have a certain taste and this place reflected that. Underneath all the chrome and glass, there was a fetish club. A classy, high-end sex club that didn’t attempt to hide what they were all about. At least not once you were past the prim receptionist and the two massive guys guarding the entrance.
As he looked around, Dylan realized it wasn’t all that different from Luke’s original fetish club, simply named The Club. Dylan had only been twice many years ago, back when the darkness was closing in over his head. He’d enjoyed himself—as a natural voyeur, that wasn’t hard to do in a place like this—but hadn’t been able to bring himself to go back. When that one closed and this one opened, he had resigned himself to never getting to see the inside.
For the first fifteen minutes or so, Dylan slowly toured the main floor until he managed to make his way to the other side, seeing several people he recognized. When Xander Boone waved him over, Dylan pasted on a smile and joined the group.