Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 132657 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132657 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
He could do that. He brought her hand to his lips. “I will follow your lead.”
He took a deep breath as the big guy at the door opened it for them.
“Welcome to Decadence. Please check in at the front desk,” he said with a nod.
That was when Niall caught sight of the gun in a holster under the doorman’s jacket.
Harlow squeezed his hand as though she knew he’d seen it and it made him antsy. It wasn’t like he hadn’t spent his life around firearms. He didn’t like going into a club where they were apparently needed. Oh, he was certain there were a shit ton of weapons at The Hideout, but everyone knew everyone else.
He guided Harlow to the big desk inside the foyer. A pretty woman with hard eyes stood with a clipboard. He gave her their names. Well, the ones Ruby faked for them, presented his card—another fake since Ruby was apparently good at them—and they were shown where to leave their coats and bags. He wasn’t sure the lockers they were offered would keep anyone out but they used them. They were allowed on the dungeon floor with no lecture on rules whatsoever.
He was pretty sure there were no rules here. The Hideout required a six-week course, psychological examination, and a vote by the board to get a foot in the door. This place required a hundred-dollar cover charge.
The thud of industrial music hit him first, and then the sound of someone groaning to his left.
There was a small scene space being used, and a sub was tied up and being spanked. Her head was down, and it was clear she was gagged.
Outrage sparked through him because her hands were empty. Her legs were tied down. There was no way for her to indicate she’d had enough. He’d been taught when the sub wanted a gag, there still had to be a clear way for the sub to safeword out. Usually, they would hold something and drop it or squeeze it if it made sounds. Or they could raise a leg.
This sub was given no options but to take whatever the top was giving.
Harlow went on her toes but instead of kissing him this time, she whispered in his ear. “I am begging you not to get us kicked out, Sir. I know you are outraged because you’re a good Dom, and I promise we will report this place, but Miranda Falls might be in real, life-threatening danger. Please.”
He took a long breath and let it go. She had a job to do and he would wreck it if he protested, and very likely nothing would come of it.
But it made his gut twist to walk away.
“Thank you, Sir,” she said quietly. “Let’s go and get a drink. If she’s working here, she’s likely a server. I can already see one walking around.”
“They’re serving on the floor?” He had to keep his voice down.
She winced but started moving.
Once she found her way to the bar, she selected one of the couches that were placed around the somewhat luxurious lounge. It was where it looked like they’d spent the most cash. There was an open love seat in a corner where they could see out over most of the club.
He sat down and drew Harlow onto his lap. He wrapped an arm around her waist and brought her close. “This place is more dangerous than you made it out to be, princess. What do you know about it?”
A slightly guilty look crossed her face, and she leaned in. “I’m worried it’s attached to a group that’s running drugs in the city. Don’t freak out. We’re still only here to talk to Miranda. If we can find her.”
“We’re going to have a long talk when we get out of here,” he vowed.
She twisted slightly so she could look in his eyes. “I didn’t want to freak you out. And I’m not scared of whatever punishment you intend to mete out, Sir. I’m way more scared that you’re never going to fuck me.”
This was not the time nor the place, and a wave of guilt rushed through him. “I promise you I will and you’ll be ready for me.”
She huffed, a bratty sound. “I am ready. You’re frustrating.”
A young woman walked up dressed in fet wear, a corset, and what looked to be a thong. She wore ridiculous heels and set a couple of cocktail napkins in front of them. She was definitely not the woman they were looking for. “Good evening, Sir. What can this one get you and your submissive this evening? I should warn you our bartender took a break, but this one has some experience.”
“I’m easy,” Harlow replied. “I’ll take whatever white wine you have.”
“I’ll have a beer.” He wouldn’t drink it, but they needed to look like they fit in.