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“Mr. Stone would like you to follow me,” the gold man said. “Someone else will escort the rest of your party.”
“He’s completely naked.” Vivian cupped her hand over her mouth and giggled.
“Yes. I noticed.” I checked my watch. It was now midnight. I wondered if Chase was pissed. We’d been waiting in line for over an hour so I had an excuse.
Maybe.
“Go ahead.” Vivian waved me away. “He’s your boss and I doubt he’ll kill you in front of so many people.”
I showed my middle finger to her and walked off. Naked gold guy clasped my hand and guided me to the door. I wobbled a little in my six-inch heels, thankful I could use my nude Adonis’ strength to prevent me from tripping and falling.
I’ve never been escorted in public by a naked man. Is this the norm of working with Chase Stone?
The double doors opened. An electronic drum boomed to a fast-paced rhythm. The sweet aroma of baked cakes saturated the massive space. Rays of amber light sprayed the dance floor. Bodies pumped, rocked, and gyrated into each other. Towers of cakes garnished plates on every table that bordered the dance floor.
I should have eaten before coming. Now all I want to do is eat cake.
Saliva filled my mouth. I could almost taste sugar on my tongue.
All of a sudden, horns sounded. Glass cages dropped from the ceiling. Nude women painted in gold and black glitter danced in each cage. The music sped up, banging against my eardrums.
We maneuvered through thick crowds of stylish people, traveled by champagne fountains, and even passed a rotating bar with bartenders pouring drinks to customers. We stopped at a glass elevator. My guide pressed the gold button that said two. The doors glowed a bright blue hue and slid open.
“This club is amazing.” I stepped in the elevator right behind him.
“Yep,” he agreed. “It’s definitely my top ten.”
“Top ten, huh? I would love to see that list. I’m not a big clubber, but I doubt I’ll ever forget this place.”
The elevator rose. Outside of its glass walls, glitter rained from the ceiling. The dancing crowd roared, lifted their hands, and jumped up and down with excitement.
“You like working here?” I sneaked a glance below his waist, unable to help myself. A gold-dipped erection greeted my eyes. I backed up. A noise between a shriek and school girl giggle escaped my lips.
Oh my god. His penis is painted. Well, of course, but, oh my god!
“Everything alright?” He smirked.
“Oh sure.” I planted my attention to the ceiling. “I-I’m cool.”
“You looked at my dick, didn’t you?”
Silence.
“It’s fine if you did,” he said.
“What gave it away?”
“You have this weird wide-smile–and-eyes-popped-open look.” He winked at me. “You’re also a really bad liar. Your whole face twitched when you said you were cool.”
“Many say my face twitches when I lie, which makes it hard for me when I don’t want to confess a hard truth to someone. But.” I held my finger up. “For some wacky reason I’m an excellent poker player.”
“I’d love to play a game with you one day.”
I looked into his eyes. “Bring it.”
“My name is Darryl.”
“Jasmine.” I tapped my chest. The elevator stopped on the second floor. The doors opened.
