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Jesse tucked Chloe beneath his arm. Bo shook his head and chuckled. “How did you ever convince this ravishing creature to get in the middle of you two Neanderthals?”
“Sod off, Robert!” Taylor laughed.
Chloe tipped her chin in Bo’s direction. “What were you doing with my sister?” She was still a bit dismayed at the spectacle they’d put on. It was just so totally out of Linnea’s character.
“Linnea?” Bo cocked his head and his devilish grin widened. “She’s your sister? You don’t look related.”
“Yeah. Well, not by blood, but still…”
“I see.” He took a step closer and Jesse tightened his arm around her. “Red, I’m making you my new best friend. If I ever had the chance I’d marry that girl.”
“You…” Dillon appeared with Sloan tagging behind him. “… don’t have a chance in hell, drummer boy.”
Everyone laughed, but Chloe got the distinct impression that Dillon wasn’t joking. He had a playful smirk on his face, but the glint in his eyes said he’d meant every word. “Hey, Chlo.” Dillon leaned in and kissed her cheek. “You look beautiful.”
“You don’t look so bad yourself, Dill.” She winked at him. The guy was gorgeous and he knew it. Every female from eight to eighty stopped to look at him. He wasn’t conceited or anything, but he sure didn’t need her to reassure him that he looked good.
Taylor gave Sloan a push forward in her direction. The voice of Venery changed his look like a chameleon changed its colors. In the past five years, since their first album released, Chloe had seen photos of him in everything from a bleached-blond buzz cut to a flaming-red mohawk. Tonight, his long dirty-blond hair hung in thin braids that he pulled back at the crown. His face reminded her of a statue of the ancient god Apollo. Patrician features. Deep-set eyes. Full Cupid’s-bow lips. In his photos he always looked sad to her, even when he smiled.
“Sloan. Nice to meet you, Chloe,” he intoned and stepped back.
No handshake, hug, or any other form of greeting. She found it rather odd after the warm reception she’d gotten from the rest of the band.
Sloan turned to Bo. “You done here?”
What an asshole!
Her thoughts must have shown on her face. Bo tilted his head toward Sloan and he shrugged. Ignoring Jesse’s protective arm around her, he took her hand and placed a lingering kiss on it. “Well, Red, being I don’t stand a chance with your friend…” He made a face, wrinkling his nose at Dillon. “…you can call me if you ever get tired of the Three’s Company experiment.”
She watched Bo and Sloan grab a bottle from the bar, leaving Dillon there with Brendan and that Mistress of the Dark bitch, before they went to join Matt and Kit on the opposite side of the U-shaped sofa from where they stood. Taylor put his arm around Jesse, but he leaned forward and kissed her.
Experiment? What the hell did he mean by that?
But Taylor kept right on kissing her and the thought flew out of her head. He had a way of doing that. Jesse did too. They turned her insides to goo and any rational thought was impossible when either one of them touched her.
Taylor gently bit her bottom lip as he pulled away and then smacked his lips to Jesse’s for good measure. “Take Chloe.” He nodded toward the sofa. “I’ll go get our drinks.”
Jesse took her by the hand and they settled into seats on the rich plum silk. As she sank into the sumptuous cushions she noticed the fabric was the same color as the dress she wore. Big overstuffed pillows were strewn all around. Flameless candles flickered on the low-set tables in front of them. The VIP space was comfortable with a sultry, sensual vibe to it. Chloe gazed up at the vintage chandelier overhead, at the panels of sheer fabric that hung from suspended wood beams and surrounded the space, over to the Venery boys who sat directly across from them.
Bo saw her looking and waved. Chloe knew right then and there they were going to be friends. She smiled and waved back. Movement on the raised stage below diverted her gaze. It looked like they were setting up for something. A live video feed of the dancers on the other side of the club was being shown on the screen above it.
She felt Jesse’s lips brush her temple. “The demos will start soon.”
“Whipping 101?” She giggled and shifted on the cushion to face him.
He grinned and brushed her hair back with his fingers. “Eventually, but I think Brendan said Shibari is up first.”
“What’s that?” Her brow arched.
“Japanese rope bondage.” Jesse smirked. “Probably not nearly as stimulating to watch as a good flogging,” he said with a chuckle, “but the aesthetics are intricate and beautiful.”
Taylor chose that moment to return. An attendant, wearing only a tiny pair of see-through black mesh booty shorts and a matching balconette bra top, followed him carrying a tray with the promised beverages. He sat on the other side of her while the nearly naked waif with pink hair set up their bottle service on the low-set table in front of them. Cherry vodka in a silver bucket of ice. Glenlivet. A pretty platter of decadent-looking nosh and little plates—that was Linnea’s doing. For weeks she’d been fussing over the details of the event Brendan entrusted her with and Chloe was proud of her.
Without having to be asked, she mixed a vodka and soda for Chloe and poured two fingers of scotch for Jesse and Taylor, then sauntered away. Jesse raised his glass and clinked it with hers and then Taylor’s. His mouth opened as if he were about to speak, but he seemed to hesitate and brought the glass to his lips and swallowed down the scotch instead. She knew him too well. Something was on his mind and he couldn’t find the words to say it—or he was trying to gain the courage to say it. Should she push now or give him time to find his words?
Let life happen.
Chloe decided on the latter. For now.
