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Finally, we make one last turn, and halt before an imposing set of wood doors.
“I see not everything’s plastic in here,” is my dry remark. “They actually got some trees to sacrifice themselves.”
Hubert turns to me again with shocked eyes.
“You’re not a prisoner,” he reminds me in a mutter.
“Right,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Come on, open it up. Let’s see what they have in mind for me.”
Hubert knocks tentatively, and nothing happens. But I can feel the eye of camera on us, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand in a prickle. Goddamn. Security cameras can be so freaky.
Finally, a click sounds, and then the doors swing open slowly by themselves. Have you ever seen a commercial where everything is drab and grey, and then suddenly the screen flicks into color? That’s what lay beyond this door. Inside, was a luxurious bar, bathed in golden light with soothing music. The ambience was delightful, and tables and leather club chairs were scattered all over the place, with people laughing and enjoying themselves. A fire flickered on one corner, although I had no idea how it could possibly vent to the outside, given that we were miles below the earth.
But it was the patrons that caught my eye because every single one of the men was insanely handsome. They all seemed to be tall, tan, and magnetic, with charming smiles as they smoked cigars and teased their female companions. My mouth opened as I stared at the scene. Was I supposed to be a waitress here? Was I supposed to bring drinks and small snacks to the billionaires lounging in the bar area? Suddenly, my new job didn’t seem so bad.
Chapter 9
Gemma
A woman dressed immaculately in a black sheath swans over to us. She doesn’t seem to have trouble walking in her heels at all.
“Hubert, thank you for escorting Ms. Kane to the bar. You’re excused,” she says graciously. Hubert bows slightly, and then disappears from the door which we came. Meanwhile, no one has noticed our arrival, and maybe it’s because the double doors have already swung shut behind us, blocking out those horrific florescent lights. Also, we’re slightly hidden behind some plants. Ah ha. Hubert must have escorted me to a side entrance.
The woman doesn’t even hesitate.
“Let’s take a look at you,” she says musically, eyeing my frame. “Yes, you’ll do. I trust you saw the doctor?”
“Dr. Thompson?” I echo. “Yes, I did.”
“Good,” she laughs. “Then please remove your top.”
I stare at her.
“What?” is my flabbergasted reply. “What the hell are you talking about? I’m not going to take off my top. It’s small enough as is.” I gesture at the pink feathery thing, indicating my boobs. My words are true because I have an ample bust, and the stretchy fabric is barely holding them in. It’s weird. I was flat as a pancake up until sixth grade, and then I swear, in three months, boom! I had boobs, and not just any boobs, but huge boobs. I looked like a full-grown woman at thirteen, and trust me, it was awkward. A lot.
As a result, I’m not about to take off my top. Is this woman insane? I’d be hanging out like a lech, and this isn’t exactly a nude beach where anything goes. This is a bar, for crying out loud. Who goes to a bar topless?
But the woman merely shakes her head again.
“I’m sorry, my dear, but it’s the rules,” she says in a dulcet voice. “Look at all the women working here. They’re all topless. It’s part of how the Billionaires Club works.”
She gestures to the club area to the side, and I force myself to peer into the dimness. It’s then that I see she’s right. I’d been so stunned by the imposing physiques of the men in the club that I didn’t even notice the women. But now I see that my “manager” (if you can call her that) is speaking the truth. The women are clad in nothing but tiny skirts and high heels, with their breasts out for the men to touch and enjoy.
In fact, I watch, mesmerized, as one man teasingly fondles a serving girl’s full C cup, running his finger lightly along the delicate ridge of her nipple. The girl giggles and holds still, watching with growing arousal as her tip gets hard and stiff. The billionaire then leans forward and sucks her nipple into his mouth, the woman tilting her head back with a delighted gasp as he laves her delicate flesh. Oh wow. This is some debauched shit.
My eyes slide to the right, only to see something even dirtier. A waitress is bent over, braced against a couch seat as a man buries his face in her pussy from the back. I can’t see exactly what he’s doing, but judging from her cries of pleasure, it’s something that feels incredibly good. Suddenly, the man sits back, and licks his lips with a satisfied smile. His chin is wet from what can only be her juices, and then he dives back in as the girl lets out another long, low wail. Oh shit. This is beyond my wildest, naughtiest dreams.
