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“I gather the promise of unsuspecting souls brought you out,” Larkin says.
“Ruined?” Rod comments. “You bet I’m showing up, even if I landed at LAX from Dublin three hours ago and I’m jetlagged as fuck.”
“For once I agree with him,” I say. “I got back early this afternoon from an intense weeklong business trip to London. I’m looking forward to unwinding… preferably inside an inviting pussy.”
Larkin’s attention shifts to me. “You’re in luck, Ignatius.” That’s my club name. “The selection abounds tonight,” he notes. “Given the theme, it’s safe to say our guests are dying to be dominated by the right alphas. I have no doubt you gentlemen are up for the challenge.”
“Damn right,” Rod says, puffing his chest out like a peacock.
“I’m locked and loaded,” Jace jokes.
“The selection is so tempting, I might even have to play tonight,” Larkin says.
“Wow,” I say. “The women must be something else for you to deviate from the norm.” He’s usually all about business and nothing but the business to hook up with a woman during theme parties.
“You’re correct, Ignatius. Based on the profiles, we have an interesting bunch.”
“How so?” I ask.
“The women tonight are like little lambs headed to the slaughter––innocent, but not too innocent.”
“Right up my alley,” I say.
“I would gladly sacrifice myself and offer to Ruin two or three little lambs, but you have strict rules,” Beckett notes.
“Indeed,” Larkin nods. “Tonight, it’s straight or gay, but no poly fun allowed,” the tall, dark-haired man wearing yet another impeccable suit cautions.
“Pity,” Beckett laments.
The guy is unlikely to ever turn down a threesome, foursome, or even a fivesome. Personally, I’m too greedy to share.
“Holy fuck!” Jace exclaims.
“What?” Beckett asks, searching the crowd.
“Coming our way,” Jace cocks his head.
“Holy fuck!” Beckett echoes.
It’s my turn to search the crowd.
I do a double take.
Whoa!
Two women approach us—a beautiful redhead and a drop-dead gorgeous woman with a cascade of long, blonde hair falling over one shoulder.
“Damn!” Rod exclaims. “She has legs for days.”
And they’d look really good wrapped around my neck.
My eyes are glued to the knockout blonde… specifically to her cobalt blue dress and the risqué split cutting up her right leg, stopping barely short of the Promised Land.
Fuck. Me.
Instantly, I need to know if she’s wearing a lace, mesh, satin or sheer thong underneath, or if she’s daring enough to have gone commando.
Larkin quickly checks the iPad he’s holding. “Mauvelous,” he says, locking eyes with the redhead dressed in black. Contrary to members, guests get a temporary club name—usually a Crayola color. They also get purple cuffs to easily identify them. “I’m glad you came out to play.”
