Yep. That happened.
Once.
Sure, I’d been checking him out that night, too. Unfortunately, the evening came and went without so much as two words between us. So, when Zeke had mentioned Edge would be the one who would show me the ropes at Dichotomy, I’d been slightly giddy. I knew, above all else, that I could trust him to take care of me.
“Thank you for offering to show me around,” I said, allowing my gaze to travel the room. “I’ve been curious as to what goes on in a place like this.”
“Are you interested in D/s as a whole? Or just the interaction?”
“I’d say I have a unique curiosity about Domination and submission as a whole,” I said truthfully.
Although I’d told my brother I wanted to visit the club to get a better understanding of this lifestyle, I wasn’t exactly certain I would categorize myself as a submissive. Sure, I was curious, but I was more interested in picking the brains of those who lived this lifestyle than I was about defining my own sexuality. Would I openly tell my brother that? Absolutely not. With him, I tried to play it off as curiosity. The last thing I wanted Zeke to know was that I intended to make test subjects out of his closest friends. But what Zeke didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
However, I was still trying to determine how to play this with Edge. If I kept it on an academic level, letting him know this was research for my dissertation, he might toss me out on my nearly naked ass. On the other hand, if I played up my interest on a sexual level, perhaps he’d make it a little more personal, give me an in-depth view of this lifestyle. Either way, I didn’t want to scare him off before we ever got started.
When Edge took a step closer, those devastating eyes raking over me slowly, I got the feeling he didn’t scare easily.
“How about we start with the truth,” he suggested.
“Truth?” Was the air thinner in here? It was getting harder to breathe the closer he got.
“Why are you really here, Miss Lautner?” His eyes narrowed. “The men and women in this club like to have virgins for lunch.”
“Do they?” Yep. I’d been reduced to a breathless puddle within five minutes of talking to him.
The backs of his knuckles grazed my cheek. “Oh, yes. And I happen to know some who are very hungry tonight.”
Did that mean he was intimidated by the fact I could be pure, untouched? Was he one of those assholes who thought conquering a virgin was the highest-ranking honor among men? I’d met those guys before, of course. The ones who would gladly open your door, even pay for dinner, but their expectation was clear. If they treated me like a lady and fed me, I was responsible for giving it up.
I inhaled sharply when the tip of his finger trailed along the underside of my jaw, inching lower as he skimmed my neck, my chest, stopping just shy of my cleavage.
It was impossible to think clearly with him touching me. I knew he was attempting to intimidate me, likely hoping to send me running from the room.
“Are you?” I asked, failing to keep my voice from quivering.
“Am I what?”
“Hungry?”
“Starving.” The single word spoken in a dark, seductive growl. “As a rule, though, I steer clear of virgins.”
“We’re still talking about kink club virgins, right?” I asked, feeling the need to push back.
“I don’t know, are we?” he taunted.
I got the feeling Gregory Edge would not be the guy who would take my virginity and display it on his mantel like a trophy. However, I did get the sense he could be the guy I’d willingly hand it over to if my libido had anything to say in the matter. Even as I stood here, my hormones rioted, my body willing to accept his help in relieving the overwhelming ache, that inner turmoil that couldn’t be assuaged by a battery-operated boyfriend.
“Would you like something to drink?” Edge waved his hand toward the bar. “Everything but alcohol.”
“Is it true Trent Ramsey doesn’t allow alcohol in his clubs because it hinders one’s ability to make sound decisions?” I blurted before I could think better of it.
His sharply pointed eyebrows lowered. “It impairs judgment,” he explained, his gaze studying me as he spoke, “and in turn, impairs consent.”
Ah. That made sense. “I’m good,” I told him, willing my nerves to chill.
“Then we’ll move on to the tour.” Edge held out his big hand, signaling for me to walk in front of him.
Alrighty then. Jumping in feet first, no life vest.
I forced my feet to move, my eyes continuously scanning every inch of the club just as I’d done while I had waited for Edge to join me.
This floor wasn’t much different than any vanilla—as my brother referred to non-BDSM-related things—nightclub I’d been to. The music was loud, the people were louder, and everyone seemed to be having a good time despite the fact there was no alcohol served.
