Page 73 of Perfect Sin
“Why do I think we won’t learn anything about you by searching the club?” Lucien asks.
Gerrick shrugs. “Because you’re not stupid. But, you don’t need to know a lot about me to know whether or not you can trust me enough to help bring down Blackthorne.”
He holds up two fingers, ticking his points off as he speaks. “You need to know if I’m dealing in sex slavery. I’m opening up for you to find out for yourself, because nothing I say will matter as much as what you see for your own eyes.”
“And the second point?” I ask him.
“That’s where you are going to have to take a leap of faith that I want to destroy Damien for my own reasons. Trust is a fool’s endeavor, but common ground can forge alliances.”
He starts to step away, then stops. “There’s only one thing. You’ll have to blend in if you expect to get any answers.”
Lucien and Sin exchange a look. “I guess we have no choice but to play along, for now. We’ll be in touch.”
Gerrick exits back through the door he entered, and the four of us are left alone at the bar. Lucien signals the bartender to bring him a drink.
“I am going to down a couple shots and forget I’m at a sex club with my sister. As much as I can’t believe I’m going to say this, the two of you should take off and explore the lower level. Ted and I will stay here.”
“What’s the lower level?” I whisper to Sin.
“It’s a more intimate setting,” he murmurs.
I look around the room with couples in various stages of undress. “More intimate?”
“You’ll see,” he says and takes my hand.
The staircase is dark, with the same red lighting in the room. I keep expecting the light to flicker like in a horror movie, or for a cheesy music track to start playing like in a low budget porno. Instead, the techno beat from upstairs is replaced by a slow piano number that is sultry as well as a little sad.
At the bottom of the stairs there’s a dark corridor. On the walls there are small metal circles spaced intermittently between quilted red leather doors.
I reach out to touch one of them. “What is this?”
Sin slides behind me, his hands on either side of my waist. His breath tickles across my neck when he speaks. “Why don’t you take a look?”
Curious, I slide up the metal covering, unveiling a small peephole. A shocked gasp escapes me as I take in the scene in front of me. A woman leans over a tall, padded bench, her arms cuffed behind her back with what appears to be thick leather bands. She’s completely at the mercy of the two men with her.
One holds on to her waist, not too differently than the way Sin is holding mine. It screams possession. He drives into her forcefully from behind, shoving her forward toward the other man who has his fingers laced in her hair and his cock in her mouth.
I’m not sure what I expected when I followed Sin down here, but he’s right. It is more intimate. Upstairs the sex acts were equal parts seeking pleasure and attention. Down here the couples seem lost in playing out their fantasies, with only the possibility someone might stop and watch them.
I pull away from the viewpoint and see Sin watching the same threesome from a higher peephole. His fingers dig into my skin, and I know he’s getting turned on watching them.
“Does she look coerced to you?” he asks, his voice gritty with desire.
“Kinda hard to tell,” I murmur.
“Look again,” he demands.
As I usually do when he’s touching me, I obey instantly.
His tongue flicks out against the shell of my ear before he whispers. “See the way she meets his thrusts? The way she leans forward to get more of the man in front of her? Tell me, is she enjoying herself?”
“Yes,” I pant, although I’m not sure if I’m answering his questions or the desire I feel coming off him in waves.
He directs me down the hall to another set of peepholes. I burn for him so much that I’m willing to drag him into the first empty room. Verifying whether or not Gerrick is in the business of selling women temporarily moves lower on my list of priorities than getting my husband alone.
His knuckles brush down the side of my face. “I love the way you blush when you get turned on. Have you seen enough?”
“We’re leaving?” I can’t hide the hint of disappointment that creeps into my voice.