“Yeah, I know he does,” I finally say to Addi. “It’s okay. Please don’t tell him we had this conversation. He doesn’t need extra stress.”

Addi actually looks relieved by this. “I am not saying a word.”

“Thanks, Addi.”

“It’ll be ok, honey,” she says, patting my hand.

I hope so.

I truly do.

Because, if I lose him again, that’s it for me.

There’s no coming back a second time.

CHAPTER 15

PRESENT - SPIKE

“Where are we going?” Ciara asks, tightening her grip on my hand.

“You’ll see,” I say, as we walk down the main street.

I’m taking a big risk, taking her where I’m about to. It’ll either go great for me, or it’ll ruin any chance I have with her. From what I’ve seen, the interest is there.

We stop at the start of a large, dark alleyway. I tug her down it, and she hesitates. “It’s okay, Tom Cat, I know where I’m going.”

“Are you sure?” she whispers.

“Sure, baby, come on.”

I walk her down until we find the large, wooden door. I grip the handle and fling it open.

The first thing that greets us is the pounding music. Ciara tilts her head, peering into the massive club we step into. Her eyes widen, and I know why. I turn to her, gauging her reaction. Her cheeks are pink, and her lips are parted slightly. Yeah, she fuckin’ loves it.

I walk through the crowd of people, pulling her with me. She hasn’t said a word; I think she’s in shock. We go through a few doors and I lead her up some stairs until we reach a massive line up of rooms. Bill, an old friend, is standing by the doors.

“Spike, buddy, it’s been a long time.”

I extend my hand. “Bill, how you been?”

“Good, haven’t seen you around here in a while.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Busy.”

“You want a room?”

“Yeah, what you got?”

“Oral, anal, normal.”

“Normal. It’s her first time.”

Ciara makes an odd sound, and her eyes get even wider. I know what she’s thinking. She thinks it’s a sex club. Downstairs is, technically. People just meet, fuck, drink, fuck, and so on. Upstairs, though, is different. It’s for the kinkier minded. Ciara is about to see why.

Bill walks to the second door and he flings it open, extending his hand and ushering us inside. “Enjoy!”

We step into the room, and he closes the door behind us. I lock it, and turn to Ciara. She’s looking around the massive, maroon room. Her shoulders drop, and she seems to relax a little, but she hasn’t seen the best of it yet. I take her chin, turning her face until she’s looking up at me. “I’m trustin’ my instincts here, ‘cause I am pretty sure you’ll like what’s behind that curtain, but if you don’t, you tell me, yeah?”

“What is this place?” she asks.

“It’s a sex club. It’s mostly secret, and it’s mostly illegal. Owner is in with the cops, and so they stay open. Downstairs is for regulars; they come in, they drink, they fuck, and they leave. Up here is only for a few VIP customers. I’m one of them. I used to come here a lot. You know I have fetishes, Tom Cat, and I think you have the same ones. We’re about to find out.”

She looks confused, so I turn and walk over the large black curtain covering one wall. I grip the golden tie, and I pull it back.

She takes a few steps backwards, and her cheeks flush a deep red. Her fingers flex, and she looks like she’s about to have a panic attack. I’m about to close the curtain, but I can see her expression change slowly, and now it’s one of lust. She can’t move her eyes away, she’s watching, and she’s transfixed. I turn, and let my eyes settle on the picture before us.

Behind a large square of one-sided glass is a couple. They’re in another room, and while we can see them, they can’t see us, but they know we’re here. That’s the point. They do it because it gets them off, and we do it because it gets us off.

Right now, the two of them are fucking, doggy-style, on the end of the bed. The blonde male is driving his cock in and out of the dark-haired woman’s pussy, one hand tangled in her hair, the other slapping her ass until it flushes pink.

“W-w-w-what...” Ciara starts, but she can’t say anymore.

I walk over to her, gripping her hand and leading her closer. She steps up to the glass, and she reaches out, putting her fingers to it. “Can they see us?”

“No, babe.”

“Do they know we’re here?”

“Yeah, babe.”

“Why?” she whispers.

“People have fetishes, Tom Cat. Theirs is knowing they’re being watched...ours...is watching.”

She shudders, and presses her face closer to the glass. Taking the opportunity, I press myself up against her back. She trembles, and I run my fingers up her arms, gripping her wrists and raising them above her head. I press her hands flat against the glass, and then run my fingers slowly down her arms until I reach her breasts. I cup them through her top, gently kneading. She tries to hold back the whimper, but it comes out anyway. She’s fighting instinct. She knows she likes it, but she’s embarrassed that she does.

“You like it baby,” I rasp into her ear. “You like watching them fuck just as much as I do. I saw it the other night, I fuckin’ felt it. You can deny it, but I can see the way your body responds.”