Maybe he’ll spank me. Maybe he’ll punish me.
Would it really be punishment, though?
Will he even be here tonight? If not, I’ve got a list of places I can scour to find him.
I hope it doesn’t come to that, though. Meeting him here would be… fortuitous.
I step out into the cool spring air and shut my door, my heels clicking on the concrete as I make my way to the front of the building. I’ve read everything I could on what needs to happen next.
I push the door to the crystal shop open, immediately consumed with the sweet, nearly cloying scent of incense and the light strains of instrumental music playing. The shop’s dimly lit, but clean and inviting. I assess my surroundings and see exactly what I’m looking for—a velvet curtain at the back next to a stool and a sign for palm readings. Head held high, I pretend like I belong here, like I’m a regular on the inside. I discreetly adjust the jacket that hides my weapon and place my hand in my pocket. The soft leather of Mario’s wallet hits my palm, reminding me that it was on his person not twenty-four hours ago. I swallow.
“Good evening. How can I help you?” A tall Black man with dreads that hang to his waist gives me a fetching grin, a flash of white teeth against full lips. His eyes crinkle at the edges, and his voice is tinted with a Jamaican accent.
“Evening.” Holding eye contact with him, I lift the amethyst crystal by the velvet curtain and hold it in my palm. I stroke it, then place it back by the entrance.
“Ah. A private palm reading tonight, miss?”
“Please.”
He moves the velvet curtain aside with a smile. My heart beats faster for a moment when he pulls out a stool. Did I misunderstand the directives? Is he actually going to give me a palm reading? But the next moment, he pushes the stool to the corner, revealing a hidden trap door, lifts a heavy O-shaped ring, and gestures for me to go ahead of him.
“Have a beautiful evening, my sweet.” I smile back. I can’t help it. Apparently I attract charmers these days.
I nod my thanks and slip him a twenty, which he takes with a silent nod. He looms above me as I take my first step on the iron rung that supposedly leads me to my destination. Now this is a little creepy. Nothing I read online prepared me for basically going down a treehouse ladder to get to the secret hideout, but the next moment, I gasp when strong hands grasp my waist and hoist me down.
The voice below me—behind me?—is a low southern drawl that sounds friendly but flirtatious. “Ah, a lovely one we’ve got next, boys.”
I remove my hand from my gun and remind myself that pulling a weapon would probably not make for the best introduction into Boston’s underground.
“Welcome, darlin’.” My feet hit the floor, and I spin around to see a cowboy, a real, bona fide cowboy, wearing chaps and a Stetson and boots, a thick leather belt around his waist. “First timer, are you?”
I’m momentarily dazzled by his sheer size and presence. I’m guessing the cowboy’s a bouncer here.
Seriously, am I ovulating? Or maybe my feminine needs have come to the surface, thanks to Mario?
“What makes you say that?” I ask in what I hope is a coy voice.
He winks at me. “I’d remember a girl like you.”
I smile back and give him a noncommittal shrug.
“Why thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
Lame.
How exactly does one fit in in a sex club? I should’ve maybe done my homework better.
“Oh, hey,” I ask as nonchalantly as possible. “I’m… hoping to meet someone here tonight?”
He tips his hat to me and gives me a wink. The man has dimples. He’s adorable, but definitely not my type. “Think you’ve come to the right place, then, darlin’, haven’t you?”
I shrug and giggle. Giggle. It’s part of the act.
“I hope so. Do you know anyone by the name of Mario?”
I figure starting with his first name might be a smart idea.
“Rossi?” he asks, and I’m not sure if it’s my imagination, but his voice has a lost a bit of its warmth. His eyes quickly shift to someone behind him then back to me. There’s definitely a flash of fear in his eyes.
“Oh, I don’t know his last name,” I lie. I don’t want him knowing quite yet that I know his full name. “Really, really attractive guy, loves to race cars… I met him recently and heard through the grapevine he likes to frequent this club. But I—well, I’m not really sure how to find him.”
Cowboy smiles. “Haven’t seen him, darlin’, but if I do, I’ll be sure to let you know.” He gives me a little salute, as the trap door above opens and someone else begins their descent.