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Desiree returns her attention to me. “How about we skip the formalities?” She stands from the chair and grabs the leather folio from the coffee table. “Let me show you around first. Then we’ll have a drink in the bar and talk a bit.”
“Sounds good.” Rising from the sofa, I follow her from the room and up the stairs. “Do you live here?”
“I do,” she replies with a nod.
“You must get lonely in this big house by yourself.”
Her lips tip up into a knowing smile. “I’m never lonely.”
Keeping with the decor of the house, the upstairs hallway is white and lined with shiny black doors on each side. Desiree opens the first door on the right and gestures for me to go in.
Stepping inside, I gasp. “It’s beautiful,” I whisper, turning in a circle and taking in the massive bedroom. I’ve never really cared for black bedroom furniture—it always seemed too gothic for my tastes—but in this room, it looks elegant. The walls are black, and the tall windows are flanked by long damask-print silk drapes that puddle atop the shiny black hardwood floor. A large chandelier hangs over a king-sized bed covered in crisp white bedding. The bed is situated between two shiny black nightstands topped with crystal lamps. The black silk tufted headboard is high, and a matching bench sits at the foot.
I move to stand in front of the oversized floor-length mirror fixed to the wall directly across from the bed. It’s framed by carved wood, painted in a shiny black.
A chill runs down my spine, and again I get the feeling someone is watching me.
Maybe someone is.
Turning away from the mirror, I scan the corners of the room, looking for cameras, but I don’t see any.
My gaze moves to Desiree to see her staring at me with a look I can’t quite figure out. “How many rooms do you have?” I ask, cutting through the awkwardness.
“Thirty,” she answers.
My eyes widen. “Wow. Do they all look like this one?”
The corners of her mouth curl up in amusement. “Let me show you something.” She tips her head to the side before she turns and walks out of the room.
At the end of the hall is a set of double doors. Desiree tucks the leather folio under her arm before gripping both doorknobs. She looks over her shoulder and says, “This room is for… larger parties.” She winks, then shoves both doors wide open.
If she was going for shock value, she definitely succeeded. This room is equally as beautiful as the last, but the attention grabber is what sits in the middle—the biggest bed I’ve ever seen. It’s round and covered in a red satin sheet.
I look over at Desiree with raised brows. “By parties, you mean orgies, right?” I joke to cover up my nerves, and she laughs.
She shows me a few more rooms which are set up for scenes, like a doctor’s office, corporate boardroom, and even a classroom. I’ve never been into voyeurism, but I’d be interested in watching a scene played out in one of these rooms.
“Let’s go get that drink. We have a lot to discuss.”
As we make our way back down the hall, my gaze snags on a small keyhole embedded in the decorative molding covering the wall, but there’s no visible door. Scanning the wall, I realize there’s one between every door, and I wonder if, in fact, there is a secret door. Maybe it’s a storage closet filled with kinky stuff. I’m no prude, but I’m also not an idiot. This place is way out of my depth of experience.
As we descend the stairs, Desiree goes over the rules, the hours of the club, and the application process. It’s a lot of information to retain. “I’m making an exception for you tonight as a favor to Heather. After tonight, you’ll have to go through the application process before you can be invited back.”
“I understand. Thank you.”
“For liability reasons, there is a two-drink maximum, and no drinks are allowed outside the club. We don’t want our members getting drunk.”
As we reach the bottom of the stairs, I notice a woman with a blonde pixie cut wearing a strapless leather dress standing at a podium near the door.
“There will always be a guide to greet you at the door. Members with a reservation will obtain a key to their room.”
I nod as I take everything in.
We move across the foyer and enter the club. A large circular bar sits in the middle of the fairly empty room. Four bartenders are moving around behind the counter setting up for the night. Heather is perched on a barstool, a martini glass in hand. She’s too busy talking to the handsome older man beside her to notice me. Hovering over the center of the bar is a platform with a black metal cage. Inside, a naked woman, a red blindfold covering her eyes, moves seductively to the beat playing softly in the background.
“That’s Ruby. Which means—” She looks down at her watch, then back to me. “—we have about thirty minutes before it gets busy. Have a seat in the booth in the back corner. I’ll get us drinks.” She points to me. “Martini?”
“Yes, dirty,” I request, before heading to the back booth.
