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“So you came by yourself? For your first time?” P’s eyebrows rose.
Hmmm. Was that why people were staring?
“Sure,” I told her. “Why? Is that strange?”
P pursed her lips thoughtfully, and smiled. “I guess it’s not strange. It’s just that most women are brought here for the first time by a man.” She waved over the server for two fresh glasses of champagne.
“Cheers to you. You’ve got some balls,” P said, holding her glass up.
I laughed, hoping my mirth didn’t sound as fake as it felt. But the champagne was helping take the edge off.
“Thank you. Thank you very much.”
I spotted another dance floor in the distance, a couple smaller rooms I couldn’t quite see into, and a bunch of seating areas like the one P and I were occupying. Beyond that, there was another staircase leading to a higher level. The place was just sprawling.
“Where’s that go?” I pointed.
“There are a couple play rooms on the third floor for the super high rollers. Very exclusive. I’ve been in them a couple times.”
“Why do they need their own rooms?”
P tilted her head and made an I can’t believe you asked that question face. “Wow. You are really green aren’t you?”
“So what if I am?”
P sighed. “Some have their own rooms because they have some pretty intense kinks. And some just want an extra layer of privacy. A couple years ago, a guy sneaked some photos with his iPhone and then threatened certain members with blackmail. People fucking freaked out. They stopped coming for a while. I thought the club was gonna close.”
“Whoa. What came of it?” My shaking hands sent a splash of champagne onto the sofa. Dammit.
“People gradually came back after Miss M stepped up security. And the guy? Rumor has it he disappeared.”
“What? What do you mean, disappeared?”
Jesus, what have I gotten myself in to?
“Well, of course he never showed his face at the club again. But a couple folks knew him from around town. They said they never saw him again out and about. His phone was disconnected, his apartment abandoned.”
My eyes grew wide with horror. What the fuck?
P smiled, shrugging. “But like I said, that’s just a rumor. Probably not even true.”
Holy shit.
Chapter 9
Varden
It was a relief to get out of the house after bailing out Beau. The poor bastard had had nothing but a dark cloud hanging over his head since he was a kid. It was one of the reasons I didn’t get upset with him. Maybe I was an enabler, but I really believed he was doing the best he could. Given the circumstances.
Like always, the ritual of pulling my mask on transformed me into a different person—one without a care in the world. I said my customary hellos on the first floor of the club, spent my usual five minutes flirting with Miss M, and then wandered up to the second floor mezzanine. It was early yet. Not much was going on.
I inhaled the wood scent of my mask, further chasing away concerns of the day and erasing, at least for a time, both the past and future. Wearing it, I existed only in the moment. And I desperately needed it on a night like tonight, when the past threatened to catch up and take me down.
No one could see my face, no one knew who I was, and no one knew anything about me. I was nobody but G, and that was just how I planned to keep it.
In the dimly lit the mezzanine, two women perched on the sofa where X, Y, and Z had been several nights before. I passed them on my way to get a bourbon, and threw a small smile their way. I wasn’t ready to engage. Hell, I might not be the entire night. I was usually all too happy for any hot chick to wrap her lips around my hard dick, but tonight I was feeling mellow. Watching might be the extent of things. Time would tell.
Drink in hand, I settled into a large, comfy club chair in a corner where I figured I’d be left alone, and where I’d have enough privacy to lift my mask long enough for a long draw on my liquor.
