Page 217 of Sin City Dark
Nick watched her closely; Jannie sensed his gaze but avoided looking at him, knowing he would guess her thoughts.
“Any interest in going into one of these rooms?” he asked. “Except the occupied one, of course.”
Indeed, one room, the one with the purple door, had the red bulb glowing above it. Curiosity got the best of her. “What’s purple?”
“Spanking.” He said it nonchalantly as if he were mentioning an item from a restaurant menu.
He also appeared uninterested.
“Not into that?” she asked.
“Not my thing.”
Whatwashis thing?
Jannie followed Nick’s gaze to the gray door on the right, and Jannie nearly wobbled on her heels, so intense was the hot current flowing from him.
His eyes held a silent question. The image of him behind that door with another woman, or maybe more than one, made her stomach turn and sent something sharp lancing through her chest.Shewanted to be that woman.
Because she wanted to erase everything he’d ever done with other people.
Gathering her courage, Jannie reached out and took his hand, then moved to stand in front of the door. His eyes flashed, and he uttered a single word.
“Positive?”
“Yes,” was her quiet, monosyllabic answer.
The right answer, she realized, because he smiled, and her level of erotic anticipation dialed up to maximum the instant the one word of consent left her mouth.
Nick’s fingers tightened around hers. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a black key card embossed with a gold emblem, and touched it to the electronic pad.
Jannie heard a beep, and with a click, the gray door cracked open.
Nick
The room looked empty, of course.
As it always did at the beginning of a scene. Nick led Jannie inside, squeezing her fingers as the heavy door slammed shut with a satisfyingthud.
He took in the faint scent of the unique fragrance he’d spent months developing and perfecting. It was the ideal blend of ambrette and leather notes, with just a hint of ylang-ylang, a scent so intoxicating that Indonesians sprayed it all over the bed of newlyweds on their wedding night.
Jannie’s gaze circled the deceptively barren cream walls, her eyes widening in disbelief. “Where are the purple walls? The red lamps? The walls of handcuffs and whips and … whatever else they’re called?”
Nick chuckled. Jannie was in his lair, a place he never would have imagined seeing her, even in his wildest dreams.
“No purple walls. No whips.” He reached out to trace a fingertip along her flushed cheek, mainly because he didn’t trust himself to do anything else. The beast within him was contained for now. She was a novice; he needed to take things slowly. Introduce her gently. With the proper guidance, she could discover what a profound connection this could be.
“There’s nothing in here,” she said.
“Oh, but there is.” He stepped close. “There’s you—” he reached up to tug on one end of his bow tie “—and me.”
Her beautiful eyes widened, darting from his face to his hand and back again as she watched him untie it.
The black silk dangled around his neck. A small ligature, yes, just eighteen inches long, yet he could do so many things with it, and the ideas swirling in his mind made his blood rush downward so fast, it made his head spin.
Perhaps it was the way she looked at him now, her eyes glinting with trepidation, but not the kind that would make him stop. No, it was the kind that urged him on. In all his years of doing this, he’d learned to pick up on and read cues, and what he was receiving from her right now was exhilarating.
She smirked. “So, is this it? We’re just going to stand here in an empty room and play with your bow tie?”
