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“We have a full bar,” I say, pointing to the left. “And over twenty private rooms with various themes and supplies.”
Jax smiles down at me, and I feel my cheeks start to flame. “Supplies, huh? Are you going to give me a tour of those too?”
I laugh, looking away as I slap him playfully on the arm. When I look up and see Sage staring wide-eyed at me, I realize I might be acting too flirty.
“Sage,” one of our escorts calls from the hallway. “There’s a call for you.”
She waves at Dean before turning toward me and Jax. “I hope you’ll excuse me. Sadie is our floor manager and is more than qualified to give you a tour. But I’ll be around if you need anything.”
Jax slings an arm over my shoulders. “I’m sure we’ll be just fine.”
Sage gives me a pointed glare, and I know what she’s thinking. That he’s being too flirty, too touchy, too unprofessional. But she’s just being protective.
Little does she know I’d let Jax Kingston do just about anything he wants to me in here—full stop. And even if I didn’t want it, we have extensive security that would step in the moment I needed it—but I won’t.
“Yep,” I say to her subtly, trying to speak with my eyes. “I’ve got it from here.”
With a deep sigh, she turns and ambles toward the office.
“All right, sexy Sadie,” he says, ruffling my hair. “Show me this sex club of yours.”
I lead Jax through the main areas of the club first, but his attention span is weak at best. Most of the time, I notice his gaze slighting from his surroundings to me. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but I feel on fire tonight. And I’m feeling very optimistic about where this evening is going.
What if he films having sex with me for his page?
Whoa, Sadie. Slow down. He just walked in the door five minutes ago.
Not to mention, most of the girls on his page are rail thin with perky breasts and platinum hair—not five-foot-eight stacked gingers.
Ouch, that sounded self-deprecating, even in my head. So what if I rock a size sixteen and double Ds? He’d be fucking lucky to have me on his page.
Much better.
Still, I find myself pressing my tits up and sucking my stomach in as he talks. He’s leaning his shoulder against the wall with a vodka Red Bull in his hand, telling me all about how his page got started and how he was shocked when it started to take off.
He’s so humble and down to earth.
“Well, I have to admit,” I say, tilting my head as I stare up at him. “I’ve been a fan for a long time.”
The corner of his mouth lifts in a sexy smirk. “Is that so?” Reaching out, he tugs gently on one of my strawberry curls. “And what exactly is your favorite, of my content?”
I pinch my bottom lip between my teeth to keep from grinning. “You want to know?”
“Always.”
“Your solo content,” I reply, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks. Without even looking in the mirror, I know my neck and cheeks are tomato red.
I just admitted to this man I’m crushing on that I watch him masturbate, and I like it. The way he angles the camera to show his face as he strokes himself. The moans. The whimpers. I’m getting hot just thinking about it.
“So,” he says with a sly wink. “Do you ever use the rooms for yourself?”
It feels as if we’ve given up on the tour altogether. I should probably feel bad for stealing his focus from the club, but I am too busy eating up all the attention he’s giving me.
I give a flirtatious shrug. “Sometimes.”
“Do you have a favorite?” He leans in closer.
“I have a couple.” I feel like I’m sparkling under his heated gaze. His cologne smells amazing, and he’s even more handsome in person than he is online.
