Page 75 of Taken In Trade
Hmm.
The gummy might be kicking in, but it’s a super mellow feeling, almost like everything is smoother.
Does that even make sense?
Probably not.
It’s kinda like the buzz I get from Hawk’s, Moretti’s, and Magnum’s scents.
It’s subtle, but I enjoy it.
I really love the way his hand teases over the silky top layer of my dress and how the material brushes my skin. He was right. Every sensationisheightened, but I’m also calm and relaxed.
“I bet I could fuck you right here. The half wall would block us from the waist down so no one would even know.” Magnum brings his other hand to my thigh, working up toward the bottom of my dress. “Not tonight or anything. We’ll need to ease into it the first couple times. Get you prepared for the full experience of taking alpha cock, but once you’ve had the sweet and tender encounters, we can get to the fast and dirty club quickies. Would you be open to that?”
My head bobs up and down of its own volition. After the way Moretti teased me at the restaurant, I think I would be open to more public encounters. The risk of getting caught made everything more intense. I think I like theideathat someone could notice more than if someone was actively watching. I’m not sure if that still qualifies as exhibitionism, but I’m down to explore so I can learn what I do or don’t like.
“You’re my goddamn dream girl,” Mag says, flicking his tongue over my throat.
My eyes fall shut as I give in to the moment. He makes me feel wanted and desired in a way I haven’t felt before, and I love it.
I’m pretty good at keeping my walls up, but I don’t want to play it cool or act like I’m unaffected by him. I want to make him feel the way he makes me feel.
My eyes pop open, and I scan the crowd. It’s crazy how all those people are down there just living their lives. Clubs and bars are always energizing, and I wonder if it’s the music or if they pump in oxygen like casinos.
I squint as a large man in a suit crosses the first dance floor, striding toward the square-shaped bar in the middle of the room. He’s ridiculously out of place with the entourage following him.
Most of the people in the club are in their twenties or early thirties.
The guy glances over his shoulder, and the side of his face comes into view. Combine that with the comb-over of like ten hairs… It clicks.
Grigoryan.
But why the fuck is he here?
I glare at Ziggy, who stands in front of the curtain blocking the route Moretti used to disappear.
He rocks on his heels, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m pretty sure the boss wanted you to stay up here.”
“I’m sure he did, but that’s not going to happen. Move,” I hiss, jabbing a finger at his chest.
“Aww, come on, Mrs. Moretti. You’re scary and all, but Mr. Moretti will fire my ass in a heartbeat.” Ziggy shrugs, twisting away from my finger.
“Grigoryan is downstairs with his entourage,” I say, quirking an eyebrow.
“Well, fuck. All right, I’ll go down and let him know.” He steps back, nodding like that’s the end of the conversation.
He wishes.
“Or we could do it,” Magnum says, skirting around Moretti’s enforcer. He grabs the curtain, pulling it back. “Um, cool party trick?”
I peek around, and it’s just a wall panel.
Moretti has secret passageways in his club.
Why am I not surprised?
“Where’s the latch?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
