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Several of the booths also offered strip poles right in the center of the tables, women gyrating on them. I couldn’t tell if they were employees or eye candy like myself.
Pietor’s hand was warm and comforting around my side as we followed the bouncer toward some distant place in the back of the seemingly never-ending building. Eventually, we reached a set of stairs that went down.
They led past several rows of large hot tubs on either side of a long aisle. Groups of men and their mistresses filled them, laughing and splashing or consumed with exploring each other’s mouths.
A strange thrill rippled down my spine as I considered doing the same in one of them with Pietor—naked, exposed, and uncaring.
As we passed into the next area, which somehow seemed even bigger than the last, I turned to Pietor, better able to hear now that the music wasn’t nearly as loud.
“How big is this place?”
He chuckled low, smirking at me as he turned around a corner to the left to keep up with the bouncer.
“It’s technically three buildings. They were all run-down and abandoned when the owner bought the property and built this. Most likely with a bit of Family money helping him.”
“Well, I hope you remember the way back because I’m lost now.”
Pietor just kept smiling, but I was only half kidding. The entire layout seemed designed to purposefully confuse a person, and it was working. Still, we finally pulled to a stop at a hallway of more booth-like rooms, these ones offered sliding doors similar to Japanese design. They were thin, almost like paper, too.
As we stood there, just out of view, thanks to how the rooms were constructed, I could hear Nicholas’s voice inside the booth next to us.
“Here you are.” The bouncer gestured forward. “This is the Donahue family block of booths. I’ve been asked to ensure the booth next to you goes undisturbed. I trust that won’t be an issue.”
The guard cocked a brow at Pietor, and anyone would be able to place the threat behind his words.
“Of course not.” Pietor turned the corners of his mouth down. “After you, sweetheart.”
I took the hint, taking the step down into the cabana-like booth, and Pietor shook hands with the bouncer.
“Thank you.” He locked eyes with him. “And that name was O’Connor, yeah?”
The man froze for a moment, eyeing Pietor hard as he cocked his head. A tense moment of silence passed before the bouncer nodded.
“Of course, Mr. O’Connor. Happy to be of service.”
“Good man.”
With that, the guy left, and Pietor stepped down into the booth with me, sitting next to me on the long cushioned bench that ran along the wall. There was another on the opposite side mirroring this one, and several cushions pilled up on the floor.
“Changing your name?” I asked, my brows raised. “You paid him off, didn’t you?”
Pietor smirked, offering the barest hint of a nod. “Of course I did. I don’t want my name associated with this booth.”
“Sure. I get that.” My head wobbled like a bobblehead as I nodded, and I really wanted a fucking drink or something to settle my nerves.
“Hey, relax. We’re in that was the hard part. I can already hear your boss in the stall over. Just waiting for Teddy to show.”
Pietor’s hands were on mine, and they helped ground me. They also drew my attention back to the ridiculous fucking dress I was wearing, and I sighed as I tried to get comfortable sitting on laces.
Fuck, these are terrible. My ass was already sore.
“Something wrong there, sweetheart?” Pietor cocked a brow at me, running his eyes over my form.
“I’m sitting on a string. It’s not what you would call comfortable.”
He smirked. “I could always help you hike that skirt up.”
My cheeks flamed as I considered what he was saying. It wouldn’t be out of place for this club. Hell, it would probably help us blend in—in some weird, fucked up way. I shouldn’t be in the club with him at all, though, should I?
