around the premises and damn near lost her nerve at the sight that met her. What she first thought was a woman straddling a man’s lap, having a fun conversation, was actually a couple in the throes of fucking. The woman jostled up and down on the bastard as if he were some pole, her dress hiked up around her wide hips, shining his rod with a slippery pussy.
As if hearing her thoughts, the woman before her whispered, “They like it when you watch…”
“Oh God, I can’t be here.”
“Yasmine, take a few deep breaths, okay?” The woman’s voice sounded oddly soothing, gently vibrating through her. “You are here to see Raze.”
“Raze? Um, I don’t know who that is, but I’m just here to talk. See, I—”
The woman hushed her, then pulled out her cell phone from her hip pocket and sent someone a text. Within moments, she smiled and looked back into Yasmine’s eyes.
“Stay put. He’ll be here in 10…”
9…
8…
7…
6…
5…
4…
3…
2…
“Hello, Raze. This is Yasmine.”
Holy shit!
A tall, tanned man in jeans and a long black leather jacket with no shirt underneath, messy black hair and an unusual dark blue shade of eyes approached them. A crooked smile softened his features, and she could barely feel her own damn face when her gaze met his. He was fucking beautiful … and it was obvious that he knew it, too.
He’s probably dumb as a doornail. It’s rare to find someone that attention-worthy with a working brain.
She rolled her eyes.
His heavy black boots seemed to move in sync with the music, and each step he took radiated through her like thunder. Without saying a word, he looped his arm around hers and escorted her away from the table.
“May I ask where we’re going?” she asked timidly, suddenly hating the sound of her own voice. Where was her usual command? Where was her customary domineering stance? In the fucking invisible trashcan in the sky, that’s where.
The man kept going, offering no response. He smelled like Burberry sin, musky cologne, and everything Mama had told her ass to avoid.
He looks Italian. Great. A white hooligan with a penchant for arrogance. Fantastic.
She stole glances at him, her panties moistened with appreciation. Straight, wide jawline. Clean shaven, which exposed a cleft in his chin and one dimple that didn’t require a smile to produce. He led her to a spiral staircase that looked as if it were made of black lacquer and red marble. She’d never seen anything quite like it in her life, the alternating colors of black and red on the stairs with flecks of gold, and the red planks seemed to almost glow each time she took a step upon them. As if in stereo, she could hear moans, screams of ecstasy, and abrasive curses uttered behind closed doors.
“This is like some house of hormones! What is this? FuckFest?! I want answers! This is not what I expected, Razer, Raze, whatever the hell your name is! This is ridiculous! I need to know right now if—”
“Be quiet. You talk too fucking much.”
“What did you just say to me?!”
This time he ignored her, and squeezed her arm a bit tighter. He didn’t even slow his gait or deign her with a glance.
Bastard.
Once they reached the landing, her heart dropped. An ivory sign read in black italicized font: 5th floor.
She recalled the statement in the private brochure—there had been no description of the 5th floor.
A long, narrow pathway stretched to her right, featuring door after door, after door. Pulling a gold and red hotel key from his jacket pocket, the man slid it in one of said doors. A green light flashed, and he yanked it open, bringing her along. She jumped when he smacked the wall, then the light came on, revealing one of the most opulent rooms she’d ever feasted her eyes on. A large canopied bed sat in the middle of the room, dressed in pitch black sheets, burgundy curtains draping the thing.
Soft yet strange music played, the kind that made you pay attention—perhaps there were some hidden meanings in the lyrics, something that would put her in a trance. In a place like this, she figured anything was possible.
He tossed his coat over a chair and lit several black, ivory, and red candles around the room, then toed off his boots in seconds flat. She stood there with her heart heaving and pulsing as, without a word of notice, he removed the belt from his jeans. The thing dropped to the floor with