AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Don’t get me wrong. Jace Halsey, Beckett Christensen and Rod Wolfe are nothing to sneeze at. After all, we’re talking about former rock stars. And yes, I was slightly in awe, but I was fully under Ignatius’s spell. He monopolized all my attention. I couldn’t stop staring at him, my heart pummeling my chest.
The man is dangerously hot.
Like, I’m-willing-to-sell-my-soul-to-the-devil-if-it-means-I’ll-get-paired-with-you hot.
Here’s-my-thong-sorry-it’s-so-dripping-wet hot.
I-might-need-to-lie-down-with-you-on-top-of-me-for-the-next-two-hours hot.
Please-ruin-me hot.
You get the picture.
One glance from this stranger heated my blood and stirred desire low in my belly. The way he ate me up with his eyes set my skin ablaze. I had to blink several times to steady myself when he blinded me with his dazzling smile. If we didn’t have an imposed two-drink limit, I might be tempted to believe my inebriated and drunken mind was concocting this crazy, intense attraction.
I was going on about not wanting to be paired up with someone I wasn’t attracted to, but I didn’t expect to be facing an even bigger conundrum. What happens when you’re so attracted to a man, you just want to climb him like a tree?
“My club name is Selestia and I’m your MC for tonight,” the curvy woman on stage says. “Welcome to a night that promises to wreak havoc on a lot of underwear.” I conquer. I’m already there. “Judging from the insane level of sexiness present tonight, bypassing underwear altogether should’ve been a requirement.” Another round of laughter rumbles across the room.
I glance in Sydney’s direction.
She grins from ear to ear.
“Let me explain the rules of the game,” the MC continues. “I’m sure everyone here is eager to meet their match. I saw a couple of you already eye fucking each other. Naughty, naughty.”
The crowd laughs.
An irresistible force compels me to look over my shoulder.
Ignatius is staring straight at me.
So are his three buddies.
Oh boy.
“The first rule is to make sure you respect the club’s rules.” I return my attention to the MC. “If you don’t, you’ll get unceremoniously thrown out on your ass. No exceptions.” Sydney insisted I read every line of the NDA and club rules before signing my life away. “Now, let’s get down to the good stuff. When you walked in, you should’ve received a white envelope. Please have it handy.” I rummage through my clutch until my fingers clasp around the envelope. “Remember, hookups with more than one guest or member aren’t allowed tonight—so no threesomes, foursomes, fivesomes, reverse harems or harems.” the MC rambles on.
Holy Jesus.
“Don’t be greedy, unless you’re determined to piss off Zeus.” She pauses. “You must be curious to find out how you were paired up. First and foremost, you were matched base on your sexual preference. Second, the goddess of serendipity is to thank—or blame—for the rest. Now it’s up to the goddess of seduction and the god of sex to work their magic. You have ten seconds to accept or reject your match. If you like what you see, remain eyes locked. If not, stand side by side. Once the music starts, you’ll have sixty seconds to pair up with another match.”
Please be good to me, God.
“One last thing, the safe word for the evening is red. It’s a bit predictable, but it’s easy to remember.” The MC points to the ceiling. “Drumroll, please.” Right on cue, the sound of drums echoes around us. A few seconds later, she does a throat slash gesture with her hand and the soundtrack stops. “All right boys and girls, tear open those envelopes!” she instructs. “Find your match! And, go get Ruined!”
A few happy cheers erupt as people discover their match.
My heart palpitates as my impatient fingers rip open the white envelope. I pull out a lime green laminated card with a bar code on one side and a number on the other. I flash it to Sydney. She flashes me an orange card before lifting it over her head.
All color drains from her face.
I follow her line of sight, and clue in.
Dear God.
Her match is a tower––twice her size.
Tattoos run up his neck and shaven skull, and down his hands. If his considerable height, thick neck, massive hands and feet are any clue, his cock must rival that of a horse. The top four buttons of his purple shirt are open, exposing an impressive eight-pack. The man’s biceps are like tree trunks. So are his powerful thighs.
