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The story was about two birds separated by the bitter cold and wind, both of them believing the other was dead and not being able to live without them, searching desperately for the other even though they believed they were gone.
I was crying by the end, giving a standing ovation alongside Lucian and the Quentins with my hands in the air.
I only hoped we’d be able to do plenty more of these musicals, because they were magic. Magic.
Lucian knew I was crying with the emotion of the story when he took my hand and led me out onto the landing to make our descent.
“We’ll be doing plenty more of this,” he assured me, and wiped away my tears with his thumb. “Thank you,” I said.
“There’s no thanks to give,” he replied. “The pleasure is all mine.”
The paparazzi were ready and waiting for us all over again when we left the theater. This time we dashed right past them, taking a dive into the limo before the Quentins slid in and joined us.
Devon let out a breath once we were back in our seats, letting out a guffaw of a laugh.
“Well, we’re all still alive. Thumbs-up for that.”
Lucian laughed along with him, and he gave him a thumbs-up. An actual thumbs-up, which made me laugh too.
Yeah, these were our friends now. I knew in my heart they always would be.
“Time for the after-party!” Francesca said with a grin, but Lucian shook his head, then smiled at me.
“Not for us. We have somewhere else to be going.”
I had no idea what he was talking about, but Devon did.
“Ah, yes. You’ll be taking the limo on to Soho. Of course.”
I’d heard of Soho as a part of London, but our destination was a mystery to me. Lucian put a finger to my lips as I began to ask questions.
“Wait and see,” he told me, and I did as I was told, mind spinning as to where the hell we could be going. He looked… simmering. Intense. Excited in the very darkest of ways. Truly Lucian Morelli.
The limo dropped Devon and Francesca at some grand hotel a short way from the theater.
“See you later.” Francesca waved along with Devon, and we waved back but stayed in the back seat and kept on rolling.
“Tell me where we’re going,” I pleaded with a grin, but Lucian smirked.
“No,” he said. “Wait until you’re shown.”
The street we pulled into was almost empty. The limo dropped us outside a set of unmarked doors with two security guards outside, big and gruff. I still had no idea where the hell we were stepping into as the driver let us out onto the sidewalk.
The security guys looked as taken aback as the West End paparazzi had as Lucian led me up to the doors.
“We’re expected,” he told them. “Your owner, Andy, told me to head right in.”
They looked at each other for a long second, then swung open the doors for us without question, letting us walk straight on inside.
My eyes were shooting all over the place when they closed the doors behind us. We were standing in a red reception room with a woman with green hair and piercings sitting behind the counter.
She saw us and the recognition was clear all over her face. It took a few seconds for her to compose herself, clearly as surprised by our presence as everyone else we’d crossed paths with that evening.
“Um, hi,” she said, struggling for words. “Welcome to Club Explicit.”
It was when I saw the couple on the stairs ahead of us that I realized what Club Explicit was, but of course that made sense. Club Explicit. It was a dirty one. A BDSM club. I could see it by the crop in a guy’s hand as he made his way upstairs alongside a woman in nothing but a thong.
My heart was absolutely pounding when I saw the lust in Lucian’s eyes.
He gestured to the stairs.
“Let’s go check out Club Explicit, little girl,” he said. “I hope you’re ready to show me what an obedient little slut you really are.”
26
Lucian
I’d heard excellent things about Club Explicit. When I was setting up Violent Delights, my own BDSM club back home in NYC, it had been one of the places I’d investigated heavily online in my research. I’d been meaning to visit for quite some time, but I never expected to be doing so with such a delicious creature on my arm. Let alone a woman I was totally in love with.
The mural on the wall as we climbed the stairs was a marvel in itself, but that didn’t surprise me. I’d heard that one of London’s best street artists had been at work on it. Everything from the lighting and the booths in the main bar, right through to the grand stage and the opulence of the dance floor were testament to the quality and prestige of this venue.
