If she’d had actual milk in those tits, I might have combusted.
This time I truly was going behind Victoria’s back, trying to hunt down her pregnant sister to find out if the baby she was brewing was half mine. How could I ever be forgiven for that? The club session, that might be argued as a gray area, but this was insanity.
I reached the sectioned-off area of the club, where patrons of downstairs signed in, and smiled at the worker there. She looked angry, right on the defensive. Different to the man who’d signed me in last time.
“Can I help you?” she asked, looking me up and down, like she already knew I didn’t have a booking.
“I want to speak to Zora,” I said. No beating around the bush here.
She eyed me with open suspicion, the lollipop in her mouth sticking out from the corner of her purple-painted lips as she studied me. “Why?”
“I have something important to talk to her about?” I tried, wincing. They must have so many people doing this, trying to get back into the pants of the person they thought they’d had a transformative time with. It made me feel like such a fucking creep, so I flashed a cheesy smile. Dropped it when she pulled a face right back at me.
“You wanna do something weird?” the woman asked with a tilt of her head.
I shook my head. “No, promise. I just need to talk to her. It’s urgent. It’s about her sister.” This time I winced internally at the lie, but if it worked…
The woman took out her phone and tapped away, not telling me what she was doing. Was I dismissed? Was she helping?
“Excuse me?” I said after half a song played through the speakers.
She looked up through her eyelashes. “What?”
“Is she coming?”
“I’ve texted the bosses. One of them can decide.”
Chapter Seven
Zora
“There’ssomeoneattheentrance for you,” Bailey said, reading from her phone with a frown. We were in the staff room, hours into a long shift where I had odd jobs thrown at me to keep me busy. Bailey and Noah were the sweetest. They knew I would be screwed without this job, so they were doing everything they could. But it wouldn’t be able to last. “It’s about your sister?”
My stomach dropped, and I paused in what I was doing. Sewing up a ripped maid costume that had been part of a werewolf fetish scene - the werewolf in question had shredded it all up the front but we were nothing if not resourceful. “What?”
“Gin says he’s beefy, cute and nervous?” Bailey looked at me, more questions on the tip of her tongue. “Ring any bells?”
Harry was here? What the hell was Harry doing here? My face must have blanched, because Bailey was on her feet right away, about the shout for the guards we kept on hand in case any clients took a wrong turn. They patrolled the halls, watched the cameras, ready to intervene. Bailey didn’t fuck about with our safety.
“No, wait!” I said, interrupting her as she drew a breath in. “I know him. It’s fine. I’ll talk to him.”
She looked so damn skeptical as I got to my feet. “If anyone is harassing you…”
I shook my head. “It’s nothing like that, I promise. He’s uh… he’s family, I guess. No, that sounds creepy.” I scrunched up my face, then walked across the small room to check the rota. “Can you get Gin to send him to room three? I’ll meet him there.”
“Sure, honey.” Bailey looked dubious. “But only with full safety measures. We’ll be listening out.”
Room three was set up like a dungeon. There was no warmth, nothing plush, only a concrete square with hooks on the walls and ceilings and a shower in the corner. It was most often used for some of the roughest of play, but tonight it was for this hellish confrontation. The only one free for the next hour, fresh and cleaned of the werewolf scene before now.
I paced the room while I waited for Harry to pass through the safety check. They’d remove anything sharp, make him sign a waiver, shit like that. Gin was stoney, but she was damn good at helping to keep us safe. But because he’d already been here, his information would be on file. It wouldn’t take long.
When there was a knock on the door, my heart stuttered. And when it opened and Harry walked in, it stopped altogether. Oh, this was not going to go the way I’d planned.
He was so fucking handsome it wasn’t fair. I didn’t see my sister’s fiancé when I looked at him, didn’t see future brother-in-law and family member. I still felt that possessiveness and had to fight against the urge to cross the room to him now, to pull him into my arms or fall into his. It was… intense. Wild.
“…Hey,” he said, hands in pockets, looking over the room to take it all in. His eyes landed on the fixtures in the ceiling, a metal chain hanging from one of them, cuffs at the end. “Where have you brought me?”
“Here to tie you up and beat you into submission.” I waved my arm around to present the space, unable to stop myself from trying to lighten the mood. It was fucking awkward. Or rather, it was awkward that it wasn’t. That already I was comfortable with him again.
