I look over at him. “You’re joking?”
He shakes his head, watching her. “Nope.”
“What if no one goes in there?” Bones asks.
“Oh, that is never a problem here in Kink. That’s why the members show up every night. There is always someone willing to play when a toy is offered.”
And sure enough, the back door opens, and two guys enter. The woman tries to look over her shoulder to see, but she isn’t able to see them due to how her arms are secured above her head.
The guys begin to undress … “I’m out,” I say and push off the wall. I exit the room and into the hallway. It’s very dim in Kink. There’s music playing but nothing like a club. It’s soft. I’m guessing they want you to hear the men and women moaning more than the songs. It’s a part of the appeal.
The door opens behind me as Bones and Tristan exit.
“Your guy spent most of his time in the Gallery a few nights ago,” Tristan says. “If he shows, he’ll go there first.”
“I’ll wait out here in the hall to see if he goes in there,” I say, not in the mood to look at dicks tonight.
“Why don’t we ping the number?” Bones offers. “He may already be here. We haven’t checked all the rooms.”
“We did earlier today,” Tristan answers, signaling to a bartender. “There was no activity. He’s either thrown it away or had it off.”
A cute blonde behind the bar begins to pour three glasses of scotch.
“I still think something is fishy about this,” I say through clenched teeth.
“There has to be an explanation,” Bones agrees. “And we’ll figure it out. We just need to find him. And fast.”
Tristan walks up to the bar and takes the glasses of scotch the blonde made for him. She gives him a big smile and her white teeth glow from the blacklights around the bar. She winks at him.
“Thanks, love,” he tells her.
“Anytime, T.”
“I can’t believe I’ve been coming to New York forever and didn’t know this place existed,” Bones says, taking a sip of his scotch. Then he looks at me. “Do you think Mr. Bianchi is a member here?”
I shrug. “Not sure why he wouldn’t be. The guy runs the fucking mafia.” Luca’s dad is what you would consider any member of the mafia. A ruthless motherfucker. He’s been fucking around on Luca’s mother for years. He’s always had a side piece. They don’t marry for love in the mafia. Well, most don’t. Luca just happened to marry a woman he loved. But there were other reasons to that as well. “At least now you know about it. You can bring Lola here when you come visit her.”
He shakes his head. “She wouldn’t come here. Plus, I ended that.”
“When?” I ask.
“About an hour ago.” He takes a drink of his scotch.
“Does that have to do with Jasmine?” I ask.
He snorts. “No. Lola called me and informed me she had planned us a trip for next weekend. We were going to England. She wanted me to meet her parents.”
Tristan whistles. “How long were you two fucking?”
“Three months,” Bones answers. “Two months too long.”
Tristan pulls his cell out of his pocket and unlocks his screen. After reading a text, he puts it back. “No sign of your guy upstairs.”
I run my free hand through my hair. “Maybe we should go back to the suite and regroup. Try to ping his cell.” We still have the phone of the bastard who we killed a few days ago. We can dig through it to see what else we can find. Plus, as much as I don’t care for this place, it has made me horny for my girl.
“Can you get us back in tomorrow night if we need it?” I ask.
He nods.
“I’m buying a membership,” Bones says before throwing back what’s left of his scotch.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
EMILEE
THE GIRLS AND I sit at a round booth right off the dance floor. I have sweat covering my boobs and my back. We’ve been dancing for three songs straight and finally decided to take a breather. I’m in the middle of them with a drink in my hands. They’re laughing and joking about who Jasmine is going to go home with when I feel my phone vibrate the table.
I pick it up in front of me and open the text.
Titan: We’re headed back. Be naked in bed for me.
“The guys are on their way back to the hotel,” I call out over “Lollipop” by Framing Hanley.
Haven shuts up and gulps down her drink, acting like she spent her last eight dollars on it. And begins to scoot out of the booth.
“You can’t be serious?” Jasmine protest. “They message you, and you run back to them like a lost puppy?” She arches a dark brow.
“When you fall in love with someone, you’ll be the same way,” Haven tells her.