Page 25 of The Grand Duel
I take a deep breath, looking up into the mirror.
The sight I’m greeted with makes my worries fade momentarily. My long, dark-brown hair is down and slightly curled, the ends dusting the lace of my bra. My makeup is lighter than I’d normally wear it, the freckles on my nose still visible where I’d cover them.
I flatten my hand on my stomach, willing it to settle, reminding myself that the four tiny scars there are near invisible to the naked eye and impossible to see under the dim lighting in the rooms.
“You ready, Shoes?” Christian says through the door to the changing rooms.
I slip on the robe and step out, giving him a little spin as I pass.
“Yes, we all know you’re gorgeous. Come on.”
Iona claps her hands together, giving me a hug before leading me down to the corridor of hidden exits behind the rooms which are used for staff and cleaners only.
“You read the contract over?” Christian asks.
“Three times.”
“The safe word?”
“Heartlands.”
“Blindfold?” Iona asks, reaching her hand back to him.
Christian locks eyes with me and hands it to her.
She slides it over my hair to rest on my forehead. “You look stunning, Jovie.”
I pull in a full breath, my nerves suddenly intensified now I’m standing outside the room.
God, can I pull this off? I’m way out of my depths here, purely acting off pent-up sexual need—mostly because of the two people in front of me.
I should’ve called my ex.
Anything but put myself in this position.
“You’ll fucking kill it, Shoes. Get your ass in there,” Christian eventually says.
SIX
Lissie
The chaos that has followed me for the past hour slips away the second the door clicks shut behind me, Christian and Iona’s noise ceasing to exist. The room is still, calm, only the very faint whispers of the club’s music playing as it evades the soundproofing, reminding me I’m not as far away from everything as I feel.
I’ve been inside the private rooms before. Twice, actually. Both times at the end of a shift to collect empty glasses.
This room is one of the smaller of the four with a dark green, almost black bench seat that has a padded back which stretches up to the ceiling, and an oversized oval-shaped bed covered in deep, rich emerald sheets.
I peel off my robe and roll my glossed lips together, wondering if maybe it was a stupid idea to request the cop guy come to the room. I’ve watched Christian and Iona spend time out on the main floors all week, socialising, flirting a little, before being asked to go to a room.
I love watching them work.
The way it makes me feel to watch them interact with the members, the unknown and excitement as they disappear for an evening with them after.
It’s always felt powerful.
Sexy.
What if that’s exactly what I needed to calm these nerves? Not to get to know the man, but to at least see him first.