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“I’m glad you’re confident,” I said dryly, following her through the door and into the hallway. We both had little clutch purses for our money and keys. I slipped my mask inside mine, not wanting to wear it until we reached the club.
Adalyn’s long black hair swished along her back as she walked, the delicate strands having been pulled back into a ponytail.
I idly wondered if I should have done the same, but I preferred wearing my hair down, as it barely touched my shoulders.
A car waited for us outside, the ride one Adalyn had arranged. I slid onto the leather back seat beside her and listened as she made small talk with the driver.
She was always the outgoing one in our duo.
I didn’t mind speaking in groups, but I often preferred to stand on the sidelines and observe. Something told me tonight would be no exception.
The ride to the club was about twenty minutes, the area of Portland familiar to me as I exited the car. There was a donut shop around the corner that I liked and a bar I’d been to with Adalyn several times.
Which now made sense.
She would meet me there and come here afterward.
Although, she didn’t typically dress like this to go to the bar.
Maybe she took a change of clothes with her in her bag or something?
“We’ll start with a tour,” she told me as we ascended a set of stone stairs toward an unassuming door. It was so quick that I barely felt the cool air. Or maybe I was just too warm with excitement and nerves to sense the evening chill.
A pair of security guards opened the door before we could reach the handle, one of them greeting Adalyn by name. She smiled at him. “Hey, Gavin.”
His light eyes moved to me, his expression kind. “I see you brought a guest.”
“I did. This is Jen.” She always called me Jen instead of Jenica, something that didn’t bother me. Especially tonight, as it gave me some anonymity to stand behind a version of my name. “I’ve already given her a mask.”
I pulled it from my purse to show him, just in case.
He nodded. “Just need to check ID.”
Adalyn handed over her driver’s license, and I did the same with mine.
He reviewed them with a nod and handed them back to us with a pair of bracelets. They weren’t the standard plastic ones provided by a typical nightclub, but delicate silver chains with heart-shaped crystal charms hanging from the middle. I put mine on over my lacy gloves.
“Have a good night, ladies,” Gavin said. “And make sure you brief her on the rules, Adalyn.”
“Of course,” she replied, her tone playful.
“The real rules, Adalyn. Not everyone is a bratty sub.”
She feigned shock at that. “I would never break rules.”
“Hmm,” he hummed, causing his buddy to chuckle.
I glanced between them, but Adalyn was already pulling me inside before I could ask for whatever story lurked between them.
Bratty sub seemed like a good way to define Adalyn. I only knew of her submissive tendencies because she’d shared some of them with me. Not in a seductive sort of a way, but in a confiding one. She’d been afraid of what some of her desires had meant at first—such as the fact that she enjoyed being spanked—and she’d asked me if I ever had similar yearnings.
I hadn’t been able to answer her because I didn’t really know.
The notion of Pierce bending me over and smacking my ass sounded enjoyable. But I couldn’t really think of anyone else I’d allow to do that.
Hell, I wasn’t even sure I’d let him do it.
Especially not after the last few weeks.
