I push out of the car on that thought and head toward the door. It’s the same bouncer. I smile at him as I hand him my ID. “I’m here for Hudson Carlisle.”
“I remember you from the other night. I’m John.” He holds out a hand.
I shake it. “Christine.”
“I’m guessing he told you to tell me that you’re here for him.”
“Yeah, he did,” I say. “Sorry.”
He shakes his head. “Not a problem at all. It’s just good to know so I can make a note. I don’t have to check your ID every time if I know you and know you’re going to be here for Mr. Carlisle.” Turning his head away, he mutters into his headset. Then, “Mr. Carlisle will meet you on the second floor balcony.”
“Thank you, John.”
I check my coat and purse and head downstairs to go back up. I don’t think there’s a way to get to the second floor directly from the entrance, which I guess makes sense. You don’t want people popping into the themed rooms directly from outside. Hudson didn’t say where on the balcony to wait for him, so I pick a spot at random, in front of a room that’s made up like a desert with a tent of many silks and the scent of incense pouring out the door.
I lean against the railing, taking in everything that’s happening. There’s a good view of the club from up here, and I like watching the dancers in the cages and the dancers on the floor. There’s a good interaction between the dancers and the rest of the club. They feed off each other’s energy. I glance toward the stage that captivated me the first time I came here, but it’s empty. I remember what was happening and that raw desire and arousal floods my system. It seems I stumbled on a fantasy. Even though that seems like a lot for me. I liked it when I knew people were watching through the curtain last time, but that was through a curtain and not in front of the whole club. With the club’s owner, no less.
Arms snake around my waist, and I feel the familiar dance of Hudson’s fingers on the skin of my stomach. “It’s good to see you,” he says.
“I told myself that I wasn’t going to come,” I say. “I said that I was going to wait at least a week so I could sort out all of this in my head.”
His lips are against my ear and I feel his smile. “Then why are you here?”
I turn to face him, letting him pin me against the railing. He’s already hard, and that doesn’t do anything to cool me down. I laugh. “I see you kept your promise to stay hard.”
“I was. Almost the whole time. I couldn’t get you out of my head.”
“And I couldn’t stay away.”
“I can’t say I mind that,” he says, leaning down to kiss me.
Another thing I told myself was that it wasn’t as good as I thought. I was high on adrenaline and the thrill of going to a party like that one.
Yeah, no. It’s just as good as I thought. Maybe better.
Hudson pulls back and looks at me with a smile. “Do you want a drink?”
“No,” I say. “Not really.”
His eyes darken, and my stomach drops like I’m on a rollercoaster. I like that look—lust and anticipation. “What do you want?”
I clear my throat, my mind filling with that image of that woman on the X. “I found a fantasy.”
“Oh really.” He raises an eyebrow. “I’m dying to hear what it is.”
“When I came into the club the other night, there was a couple there.” I point to the empty stage.
He nods. “The St. Andrew’s cross.”
“I didn’t know that’s what it was called. She was tied to it. Facing it. Being fucked, and she looked so…” I can’t finish the sentence. Not because I don’t know the answer, but because every word I think of to describe the way that woman looked feels inadequate. “Maybe it’s because it was one of the first things I saw, but I don’t remember something turning me on like that just by looking.”
A slow smirk plays across his lips. “I think that can be arranged.”
He takes a step away and pull him back. “But I don’t want that yet. I don’t want that in front of the entire club. So I want something like that. I want you to show me how that might feel.”