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“Why here?” he asks, signaling to the bartender for another round. “This isn’t a place I would’ve imagined you going.”
I snort before I can catch myself, then wince internally. Brad used to tease me all the time about my laugh, since I always snort when I’m especially amused, and it made me super self-conscious about it.
“You don’t know me at all,” I point out. “I’m sure everything I’ve done tonight would surprise you.”
“Tell me,” the man suggests—only it’s not a suggestion.
It’s a command.
The cool power in his voice sends a little shiver through me, and although it might annoy me to have another man tell me what to do, something about being bossed around by this handsome, intimidating man turns me on in a weird way.
Still, the corners of my mouth twitch upward. He’s about to get more than he bargained for.
“I decided to stop here for a drink after the sex club I went to,” I say casually, and am rewarded by his eyes widening enough for me to catch the blue in them.
He leans in so close that I can feel the heat radiating from his body.
That, or I’m blushing so hard that I’m radiating heat like a furnace.
Probably both.
“A sex club? Alone?” His voice is hard, and I blink in surprise. Out of all the reactions I anticipated, the overprotective scowl isn’t one of them. “What about your friend?”
“She’s still there,” I say, making little circles on the bar’s surface with the condensation from my drink. As the bartender approaches with a replacement, I quickly swallow what remains of my first Manhattan, painfully aware of the man’s searing gaze locked on me.
“You left her there by herself?” he asks.
I can’t help but laugh, thinking of Richard’s clear eagerness to get her into the rooms even farther in the back of the club. “Oh, she’s not alone.”
That earns me a smirk, and the dark-haired stranger takes a drink of the amber liquid in his glass. He ordered himself a whiskey. I’m not sure what kind it is, but it smells spicy and strong.
“I see. I’m sure she isn’t,” he muses. “Were you?”
His gaze collides with mine as he asks, and it’s a loaded question. If I didn’t know better, I’d think there was something almost like jealousy in his tone.
“Yes. It wasn’t really my scene,” I say, deciding to be honest. “It was actually pretty uncomfortable. No shade on anyone who likes that kind of thing, but I felt super out of place.”
My answer seems to satisfy him, and he leans back a little. “A sex club can be intimidating the first time.”
“What, like you’ve been?”
He lifts a shoulder in a half-shrug. “So have you.”
“But you’re obviously in the ‘comfortable’ stage with it.” Emboldened by the alcohol I’ve had, I lean toward him, resting one elbow on the bar. “What’s the secret to enjoying it?”
“Experience,” he murmurs, raising an eyebrow at me.
A rush of heat pours through me, settling low in my belly. Of course it’s experience. And of course he has that experience. He seems like he’d be perfectly at home in the club I pretty much fled from.
Would I have run from all that debauchery if he’d been among the crowd?
I don’t know, but part of me thinks I wouldn’t have. That I would’ve stayed, just to see what might happen.
“Okay.” I tug my bottom lip between my teeth, considering his answer. “Well, until I have the experience I need to enjoy it, what’s your advice?”
“Thinking about going back? I knew you were a bit of a spitfire, the second I laid eyes on you.” One corner of his mouth rises in a small smirk. Then it melts away. “Go with someone. Or have a goal in mind. Why did you go tonight, for example?”
I shake my head, letting out a breath. “Well, it wasn’t really my choice. We can blame all of this on my ex-roommate.”
