Page 109 of Nash
He takes my hand. "Let's go."
The truck is a black F-150 parked in my lot. Nash opens the passenger door, helps me up, and his hand lingers on my lower back where the dress opens, his palm flat against my bare skin. The contact sends heat straight down my spine. He rounds the truck, climbs in, and starts the engine.
"Nash."
"Yeah."
"I'm nervous."
He reaches across the console and takes my hand. Brings it to his mouth. Presses his lips to my knuckles.
"I've got you," he says.
The drive takes fifteen minutes. Vesper sits on the edge of town, a converted warehouse with a stone facade, no signage. You'd drive past it without a second glance. Nash parks in a gated lot behind the building. He kills the engine, rounds the truck, then opens my door.
His hand finds my lower back again as we walk to the entrance. His thumb traces slow circles against my bare skin. Guiding. Grounding. The touch says I'm here without words.
The door is heavy dark wood. Nash enters a code on a keypad. The lock clicks.
Arden is inside.
He's standing just past the entrance in dark clothes with his arms crossed. His presence fills the narrow foyer the way Arden fills every space, quiet and absolute. He nods at Nash.
"Evening."
"Arden."
Arden's eyes shift to me. The faintest smile touches his mouth.
My face goes hot. Arden does security here. Arden, the vampire, does security at a sex club. Arden, who has supernatural hearing and stands on the porch at the clubhousemaking small talk about the weather, is going to be fifty feet away with his vampire ears while I—
Nash's hand presses harder against my back. "Arden sees everything that happens in this building, and none of it leaves the building. That's his job. That's why he's the best at it."
"I see nothing," Arden says. "I hear nothing. I'm furniture."
"Very attractive furniture," I say before I can stop myself.
Arden's smile deepens. Nash's hand tightens on my back.
"That counts as touching," Nash says. Low. In my ear.
"I complimented his appearance. That's visual, not physical. Different jurisdiction."
"We haven't even made it past the door, and you're already testing boundaries."
"I'm warming up."
Nash guides me past Arden into the main hall. The space opens up to low lighting, warm tones, exposed brick, and dark wood. Music plays softly, ambient, nothing I can identify. The air smells like sandalwood and something warmer, deeper, a scent I can't name that settles in my chest.
"Amelia designed this," I say.
"Amelia redesigned this. The previous owners had different priorities." Nash's hand stays on my back as we move through the space. "The main lounge is open to all members. Drinks, conversation, socializing. The rooms branch off to the right. Each one serves a different purpose."
We pass a couple at a low table. The woman is seated on a cushion beside the man's chair, her hand resting on his thigh. She doesn't look up when we pass. The man nods at Nash. Nash nods back.
"She's in a dynamic," Nash says quietly. "She won't speak to you unless her Dom gives permission."
I nod. My hand tightens in his.
