Page 19 of Broken
“Hey, Mac, I haven’t seen you in a while,” said the line manager. “You just missed Rebel, man.”
Asylum was owned by his close friend, Rebel. From the swarms of bodies filling the space, he was doing alright.
“Is he coming back?” Prescott held his phone under the scanner and the light turned green.
“He didn’t say. I’ll let him know you stopped by. It’s been a while. Where you been?”
“Working too damn much.”
Black walls, red lighting. Prescott loved the vibe. It was like he was entering the gates of hell itself.
And he could not fucking wait.
Prescott made his way through the crowded bar, the chatter dwarfing the jazz quartet playing nearby. Pausing, he swept the room in search of his target. Unless Jack had changed up her look, she hadn’t arrived. He checked his phone. It was ten past nine, no Jack, and no message waiting in the club app.
A slow growl rolled out of him.Dammit. She stood me up.
A year and a half ago, he first spotted her in one of the exhibition rooms. Dressed as a school girl in uniform, she was doing a scene with a man and a woman. She was riding some guy, skirt on, shirt off, her phenomenal tits bouncing with each thrust.
Her eyes had been closed, but when she opened them, she’d glanced around. When she locked on Prescott, she hadn’t looked away. While screwing some stranger, she’d been eye fucking the hell out of him.
She was wild, uninhibited, and a very dirty girl. He could not wait to meet her… and fuck her himself.
After her scene had ended, a group of women descended on him while the clubbers filed out. When the crowd cleared, she stood there, fully dressed, her fiery gaze drilling into him.
With a wild gleam in her eyes, she’d walked over, pressed through the throng of women, took his hand, and led him to a private room where they hooked up for hours.
It was raw, feral, and over-the-top intense.
That had led to a weekly thing of hard fucking where her slutty costumes and wild imagination had gone off the rails while he screwed her to the moon. Beyond her name, which he doubted was real, he knew nothing about her.
He’d never met anyone like her, never been so drawn to another person like he had been to her. They never talked much, not because he wasn’t curious or hadn’t grown interested, but because she was all about getting down to dirty business.
When she’d ghosted on him, he hadn’t tried to find her. He was confident another woman would come along and snag his attention.
Only that hadn’t happened. He’d hook up with someone else, but think about Jack. Over time, he just stopped going to Asylum. Tonight, he was ready to cut loose with the one woman who could slay him simply by showing up.
The line manager walked over. “Mac, I forgot to tell you, Jack said she’ll be waiting in the exhibition room. Sorry about that.”
“Which one?”
“She said you’d know.” After a nod from Prescott, the employee retreated back to the entrance.
Fueled by that news, Prescott took off through the crowded room toward the closed door in the back. The retina scanner cleared him to enter. Now, in the inner sanctum, the music pulsed through him, the intense beat pounding in his chest while the faint smell of sex and pungent cologne hovered in the air.
Prescott’s cock twitched as he made his way past the exhibition rooms on either side of the hall toward the last room on the right.
He stood in the doorway, taking in the sights in the Threesome Playroom.
A man and two women were playing out a scene. One of the women was going down on the other, while the guy took the first one from behind. A small crowd had gathered to watch the X-rated scene go down.
Prescott wasn’t there to watch, so he scanned the room for his target.
Jack waited, not twenty feet away, her smoldering gaze drilling into his. Heat pressed his chest while his pent-up need jumped to the forefront.
She was intoxicatingly beautiful… more beautiful now than when he’d last seen her, eight, long months ago.
He wanted her greedy mouth on his, her hard, plumped nipples pushing into his welcoming mouth, and he wanted to bury himself so deep inside her he couldn’t remember his own fucking name.
