Distraction (Club Destiny #8)

Her smile was shy as she nodded.

It was true, this woman made him feel things he hadn’t expected to ever feel again. He couldn’t imagine being here with anyone else. Hell, he couldn’t imagine feeling this way for anyone else. Maybe he’d known somewhere deep in his heart that Sarah Davis was a part of his soul. She’d been placed in his path at a time when his world had been the darkest. She was the reason he chose to dig himself out of the hole he’d buried himself in and now, here they were.

“I was thinking maybe we could grab a nap before we head to the club,” she told him when the waiter returned to clear away their dishes and give him the check to sign.

“I think that’s a brilliant idea.”

As he got to his feet, Dylan knew that tonight was going to be a true test for them. Either she would like the club or she wouldn’t, they would stay or they wouldn’t, they would enjoy themselves or they wouldn’t.

But no matter what, Dylan knew that the club did not define who he was. No, he didn’t want to hide that part of himself any longer, but if it meant making Sarah happy, he had the overwhelming feeling that he would do whatever it took.

He only hoped he didn’t have to make that choice.



AFTER A THREE-HOUR NAP, SARAH was up and getting ready while Dylan lounged on the bed, flipping through channels on the television. He was ready, except for getting dressed. She figured it had to be nice being a guy in that regard. A little effort toward showering and they were good to go. Little did the man know but she was slowly losing her mind because for her to get ready meant makeup, lotion, perfume, hair dryer, flat iron, curling iron, a nail file, a lint brush … and a whole lot more. Plus, a hell of a lot of deep breathing.

They were going to a sex club.

On purpose.

Holy crap.

What in the world did one wear to a sex club?

She remembered the night at Devotion. From her fuzzy memories of that evening, most of the people around her hadn’t been wearing much of anything at all, so she couldn’t very well get ideas from that experience.

“Not helping,” she muttered to her reflection in the mirror.

“Are you talking to yourself?”

Sarah spun around to see Dylan standing in the bathroom doorway, his arms crossed over his bare chest, his jean-clad legs crossed at the ankles. It should be a crime to look that damn sexy without even trying.

“Yes, I am,” she confirmed.

“Are you at least getting a response?”

Sarah grinned, then turned and faced the mirror. “Not a helpful one, no.”

“What seems to be the problem?”

She shrugged, leaning forward and applying gloss to her lips. “I don’t know what to wear.”

“What are you wearing beneath that robe?”

“Nothing,” she admitted.

“That works for me.”

Sarah chuckled. “You’re about as helpful as talking to myself.”

Dylan laughed. “Wear the black dress that’s hanging in the closet.”

She met his gaze in the mirror. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

She took a deep breath and nodded. If only it was that easy.

An hour later, Sarah was wearing the black dress and her favorite black, strappy heels. She wasn’t teetering quite as badly as she had the last time she’d gone to a sex club, which she considered a plus. Then again, she knew she didn’t look quite as cool and collected as the sexy cowboy standing at her side, either.

Dylan was wearing a pair of starched Wranglers, black boots, a black jacket over a crisp, white shirt, and his black Stetson. The man made her mouth water when he dressed like that.

When they stepped out of the elevator into the hotel lobby, Dylan took her hand in his, and Sarah willed the damn thing not to tremble. She did not want Dylan knowing how freaking nervous she was. This was something he was comfortable with, apparently. She wanted to be able to give him this, although she had no idea what it entailed. Sure, she was a willing participant, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t scared out of her mind.

Okay, maybe scared wasn’t the right word. More like edgy. Nervous.

The man had mentioned sharing her with another man. Would he do that with a stranger? Would she even be okay with that?

Dylan suddenly stopped, then turned Sarah to face him. His dark eyes locked with hers and she fought the tears that were threatening. She did that when she was nervous.

“We’re gonna visit this club tonight, Sarah,” he whispered softly, his thumb brushing her chin. “There are no expectations.”

“Are you sure?”

His dark eyebrows darted down.

“I mean, you did mention you wanted to share me,” she blurted, hating the tremble in her voice.

His smile altered his face in ways that affected her insides. “Not here, baby. Definitely not here.”

Was that relief that filled her?

“When and if that day comes, we’ll be in a place I know, a place where I know you’ll be safe. And it damn sure won’t be a stranger touching you.”

Sarah exhaled sharply. That made her feel remarkably better.

“Is that what you’re worried about?” He looked genuinely concerned.

“A little, yeah.”

Dylan’s arms wrapped around her and he pulled her in close, his head lowering until his lips were brushing her ear.

“I want you to trust me, Sarah. Implicitly. I will never put you in harm’s way. I will never sacrifice you for anything. If you want to explore, you let me know. Otherwise, I’m going to assume we’re here to enjoy the evening, and we can do that without sex. I’m more than happy to take you back to the room and strip that sexy little dress right off your body. Doesn’t have to be at the club.”

Sarah nodded, then patted his chest. When he stood up straight, she went to her toes and kissed his mouth lightly. “Thank you.”

“Come on,” he urged. “Let’s take a look around, see what it’s all about. You can decide from there what you’re comfortable with.”

Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, Sarah managed to calm her rioting nerves. Knowing that Dylan didn’t expect anything from her tonight made it easier to follow his lead as they headed toward the entrance. They bypassed the long line that wound through the casino. There were people of all different shapes, sizes, and colors waiting to go inside. Some appeared frustrated by the wait; others were making the best of it, joking and laughing.

When they reached the bouncer, Dylan gave the man his name, and they were waved through with instructions to head up to the VIP lounge.

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