Page 20 of Dancing With Temptation

“I can afford to get my own dress dry-cleaned thank you.”

Fuck! She’d taken it the wrong way. “She wasn’t suggesting you couldn’t afford to, only that she felt responsible and wanted to pay for it.”

That would help, right? Explanations always helped. Only this one seemed to make her jaw go hard and she sat up even straighter in her seat.

“It’s taken care of.” She waved further talk about it away and he decided to just let it drop.

“Okay.” He swallowed and decided to focus on driving. She’d talk if she wanted to. Right?

He got into the groove of driving as The Cure sang about never-ending love on the radio. The GPS guided him soon enough to a place that looked like little more than a warehouse, but the glass reception area proved that wrong. A small sign on one panel of glass read “Skippers” in neon pink cursive, and Lincoln wondered what he was in for tonight. Was this some kind of upscale restaurant?

But why would he need a mask for that?

“As you’re my guest and not a member, you have to wear the mask. I’m just wearing mine for the fun of it, but you have to keep yours on once we’re inside.” She went ahead and put her mask on, tying it so that the tie was hidden by her long hair. “Oh, we’re here for 80s night, awesome.”

Lincoln could only guess she knew that because Madonna was singing something about grooves. It was catchy but what caught his attention was the women dressed in scanty neon lingerie, walking around handing out drinks behind the doorman.

“Hi, Charlie, I’ve brought a guest tonight.” Roxie walked right up to the guy, passing a line of people who glared at her.

Lincoln had hurried to put his mask on and caught up with her now. He noticed how the doorman treated her like she was a superstar and the waves she caught from some of the women walking around in heels and electrifying outfits. Some of the men were even dressed in vintage suits with razor-thin ties and their hair slicked back in an obvious 80s fashion.

Lincoln had changed into a fresh suit before he left the house to pick up Roxie. If he’d known there was a theme, he’d have worn something else, the suits might be vintage, but they were also designer vintage. Besides, he didn’t care for wearing banana yellow suits, or thin ties. With a shrug he let her take his hand and guide him to a bar.

“So, it’s a strip club?” He asked after she ordered them both drinks from a female bartender with hair teased super-high, dressed in a sequined red dress with huge shoulders.

“More than that, baby.” She smiled that teasing, smug smile that only she could pull off. “So much more than that.”

“A sex club?” This time he asked in a much quieter voice.

“Yep.” She took the rum and coke the woman named Jill handed to her and slid over his double bourbon.

“I’ve been to both before, you know? All over the world.”

“Right.” She drew the word out as if she didn’t believe him.

“I have. With clients.” He twisted his neck, his shirt collar suddenly too tight. “It helps when you share the same interest as some of those clients.”

“But I bet you never participated. Or took anyone off to a private room.” She lifted her eyebrows in question, as if she already knew the answer.

And damn her, she probably did. He’d never been one to enjoy those places. He usually left well before his clients. In fact, usually as soon as the client disappeared, he’d make an exit without interacting with any of the girls available to him. It wasn’t his thing.

But would it be different with Roxie by his side?

“I’ll be gentle then, babe.” She patted his hand and he looked down at her speculatively.

Was she really treating him like she had some kind of inside knowledge on him that he didn’t know about himself?

A woman screeching and calling Roxie’s name out distracted him. Then a whole herd of men and women descended on them and one of the women drew Roxie out to dance on a dancefloor to the left of the bar. Lincoln laughed softly as Roxie let the woman draw her out, enjoying how carefree Roxie looked at that moment.

She danced like an expert, following the woman’s lead as they danced to a slower song. It turned into a tango somewhere along the way, and Lincoln couldn’t help but watch with fascination. She was good, no matter what kind of dancing she was doing. He saw the way it transported her, relieved all the tension in her body. It was hard to believe how open she became when she danced. Her every thought was displayed on her face as she wound her way through the dance with ease.

When she came back, barely out of breath, and asked if he was ready to go upstairs, he wanted to ask her for a dance of his own but decided against it. Maybe later.

“I have something special set up with the lady I was dancing with. Her name is Angelica, she’s my girl from my days at Elmo’s. She’s here tonight with her dom. We’re going to watch in their double room. Not participate, though, just watch.”

That made him swallow again, but this time it was because his throat was tight and dry. He sipped at the bourbon and let her lead the way. They rode the elevator up four floors and walked out to a long hallway with closed doors that bore symbols instead of letters. He looked down at Roxie and saw her holding a red plastic triangle with a key attached by a metal ring.

Lincoln walked in after her, surprised to find that it wasn’t the typical, double-bed hotel room that he’d expected. He closed the door to see a couple in the room already. The woman he’d seen downstairs, and a tall man that women would find handsome in that dark and broody kind of way.