Wolfe's Lair

by Alice Raine

  ‘Or …’ She had a sudden gleam in her eye which I didn’t like the look of at all. It was her I have a cunning plan look, which usually ended with alcohol, dancing, trouble, or all three combined.

  ‘Let’s think about it from a different perspective … We could go out and do some research first hand.’

  Research first hand? She couldn’t possibly be thinking what I thought she was. Even Sasha wasn’t that crazy.

  Was she?

  Chapter Two

  Robyn

  It turned out that yes, Sasha really was that crazy, because several hours later, after being plied with multiple beers to persuade me, I found myself dressed up ready to go out on an erotic research mission to the local bars in Soho.

  Heaven help me.

  More to the point, heaven help my poor readers.

  We nearly made it out of the front door, but just as I was reaching for the latch it swung open to reveal intense disapproval in human form – also known as Chloe – who gave my attire one long, sweeping look and placed both her hands on her hips in instant admonishment.

  Ah yes, dearest Chloe.

  As well as sharing my flat with Sasha I also have another roommate. She’s a little … how can I put it politely? Stuck up? Boring? Prissy? She’s lovely, but she’s definitely a bit more of a prude than Sasha and myself. She works in risk management, and the caution she implements into her work has transferred into the rest of her life. Considering that she is mid-twenties like Sasha and me, her behaviour is sometimes more akin to that of a sensible old lady.

  ‘Jesus Christ, you look like a couple of hookers. Where the hell are you two going dressed like that?’ she sighed, stepping inside the apartment and slamming the door behind her. Flicking the lock, she then turned and gave us both a raised eyebrowed look. Perhaps we weren’t going out, after all. Not in the immediate future anyway.

  Her words regarding our outfits might have sounded a bit harsh, but to be fair Chloe was probably right. The alcoholic buzz from my earlier beers and shots had begun to wear off and as I glanced down at the clothing that I had allowed Sasha to dress me in, I winced. Luminous pink boob tube, leather miniskirt and knee-high boots. It was a long way off from my usual attire, and I suppose Chloe wasn’t far from the mark with her “hooker” label.

  Needless to say, after we’d explained our plans for the evening, Chloe was firmly against it. ‘Oh, come on, Chloe,’ I started, putting on my most persuasive tone. ‘It’s just for research. I need to get something published soon, and to hit the right market Sasha thinks I need to see this stuff first hand.’

  ‘Why am I not surprised that this was your idea?’ Chloe muttered, glaring at Sasha who was still grinning away happily.

  ‘I’m only going to help Robyn with her research. I’ll behave, I promise. Pinkie swear?’ she said solemnly, holding out her little finger towards Chloe. Both Sash and I knew this promise would never be adhered to – Sasha was not the most honest of girls at times – but Chloe, being the newest addition to our flat, was luckily oblivious of this and narrowed her eyes before linking her little finger with Sasha’s and shaking it to bind the agreement.

  ‘Okay fine. Research. Perhaps a quick drink, and then we leave,’ Chloe stated and crossed her arms firmly over her chest.

  Sasha and I exchanged shocked glances. ‘We?’ Sasha asked carefully.

  ‘Of course, I’m hardly going to let you go on your own, am I? So what exactly does one wear to visit a sex club?’ she asked sourly, making a huffy gesture and putting her hands onto her hips again.

  ‘As little as possible!’ Sasha giggled gleefully.

  ‘Don’t think for one second that we’re going out with you two dressed like that. Go and change your bloody clothes and then we’ll go,’ Chloe ordered. She might be a bit prudish, but Chloe was definitely the stand-in mother figure around our place, and so, with grins splitting our faces, Sasha and I dutifully headed to our rooms to change.

  The knee-high boots stayed, but I exchanged the micro miniskirt for one that fell to just above the knee and peeled off the boob tube in exchange for a nice silk blouse. A look in the mirror showed the result. I looked sexy, but not whorish. In other words, much better.

  Sasha had taken charge of our night out, and after popping into one of the bars in Soho to get recommendations of local venues we now stood staring up at a disused theatre. It certainly didn’t look like the hottest sex club in town. The exterior looked bland, as if the place was vacant, but the guy who had given Sasha the address said that behind the plain frontage was a wild night ready to be enjoyed by all who ventured in.

  The plaque on the door stated that this place was called Club Twist, and below the name was a tag line – ”Explore your twisted side”. Pointing at the words, Sasha grinned. ‘This sounds just like the type of place we need, doesn’t it?’

  Explore your twisted side? My stomach squirmed with nerves. What the heck was I doing here? I tried to tell myself that I was young, free, and single, there was absolutely nothing wrong with what I was doing, but only ended up exhaling harshly and shaking my head at my stupidity, I was going into a sex club – of course there was something wrong with what I was doing!

  Wiggling her eyebrows at me in glee, Sasha grabbed the large brass door handle and pulled it open, allowing a rush of warm air and the deep, throbbing bass of dance music to escape.

  Here we go then.

  Our nervous laughter and wobbly footsteps were abruptly stopped by a burly man standing just inside the door, who informed us that this club was so exclusive that you could only gain entry as either a member, or a listed guest. We opted for guest status, and he took some details from us and stamped our hands with a red, coiled logo. We were each given a booklet of ten guest passes and ushered towards a dark corridor. After the ten passes were used up (although I doubt I’d ever be making use of the other nine), we either had to become members, or never come back.

  He gave us a definite smirk as we entered, but with our attire and shocked faces we must have screamed “never been to a sex club before” and he was clearly wondering what we were doing here, too. My heart was galloping painfully, and I started to find it hard to breathe. Yep, I was on the verge of a major panic attack.

  I calmed down surprisingly quickly, because inside was nowhere near as shocking as I’d been imagining. It wasn’t sleazy, sticky, or coated in plastic. In fact, the interior was the complete opposite: tasteful, relaxed, and spotless. There was a bar along one wall, a large, bustling dance floor, and a few pedestals with some erotic dancing taking place on them. I’d had visions of huge orgies, or stages with where full-on sex occurred, but from my first few glances I couldn’t see either of those.

  Yes, there was more skin on display than in other nightclubs I’d been to, and yes, there was some rather provocative dancing, but apart from that, it had a chilled vibe, and looked like any other London venue for a night out.

  No sooner had we entered the club then Sasha had downed a vodka shot and shimmied her way onto the dance floor. Watching her progress, I couldn’t decide if I should be impressed, or terrified by her ability to instantly attract the opposite sex. She’d been on the dance floor for no longer than five seconds and she was already surrounded by a circle of men and somehow managing to practically dry hump every single one of them.

  ‘She made me a pinkie promise that she’d behave herself!’ Chloe spluttered, before staring at me aghast, then striding off towards Sasha murmuring something about “going to rein her in”.

  Looking down at my gorgeous, but hugely uncomfortable new boots with a wince, I chose to grab a stool at the bar, instead of following her. The short walk here had nearly finished me off; dancing would just about cripple me.

  Making myself comfortable on the stool, I started to mentally list all the interesting things around me that would make good fodder for my book. There was plenty. What with all the Spandex, leather, exotic dancing and other more intimate things going on, I wasn’t short on things to
look at. Next time I’d have to bring a notepad. There was way too much stuff here to remember it all.

  Suddenly, the most bizarre feeling tingled through my body. Electricity seemed to zing across my skin, warming me throughout. Then, as if on cue, the hairs on the back of my neck all stood up in unison. It was unnerving, just like the sensation of someone watching me, so I began to pass my eyes over the club goers to see if I was right.

  Everyone seemed caught up in their own particular pleasures, be that drinking, dancing, or kissing. Watching as Sasha attracted the attention of yet more men on the dance floor, I rolled my eyes at her flirtatious moves, then giggled as Chloe tried and failed to control her.

  Shaking off my earlier sensation of being watched, I turned my gaze back to the bar, and that’s when I saw him.

  He was exactly as my dreams had conjured, and as I registered that his steely eyes were focused solely on me from the other end of the room, a surprised gasp leaped from my throat.

  Chapter Three

  Oliver

  Who was that girl? I’d certainly have remembered her beautiful face if I’d ever met her before. She’d entered about five minutes ago with two friends, and they were now sat at the bar ordering some drinks. Her looks and posture were drawing me to her, and I felt an immediate urge to speak to her, but I didn’t fraternise with the customers – it was one of my personal rules – so I tried to distract myself from her addictive features by glancing around the bar.

  It was still relatively early, so it was good to see it so busy in the club tonight. As well as lots of familiar faces, there were quite a few groups of newbies, too. Potential new members, hopefully. Business fluctuated, but times had been tougher ever since Westminster Council had decided it needed to “clean up” Soho a few years ago and rid it of all the sleaze. As far as I was concerned, as long as things were done of their own bidding, I didn’t care what shops people went into, where they drank, or if they liked to indulge in an hour of mindless fucking in our club to de-stress after a long week at work.

  Against my will, I found my eyes straying again to the brunette at the bar. I could quite happily entertain the idea of some mindless fucking with her. She was one of the newbies, I’d place money on that, because she had the slightly dazed look that a person got when they first arrived here and took in everything going on around them. She had an air of innocence about her, too, which appealed to me, and made her stand out like some sort of fragile angel when compared to the rest of the clientele.

  She was on her own now, both of her friends choosing to dance, not drink. Looking down into her lap, she started to root through her handbag, causing her long brown hair to cascade around her face. It looked so soft and shiny that I was practically itching to go over and tuck it behind her ears for her, just so I could get a feel. The shifting of her arm caused her top to slip down her shoulder, exposing a triangle of pale skin and a cerise pink bra strap. The sight was instantly arousing, causing my cock to give an interested twitch, and made me wonder if perhaps I was wrong about her innocence – could I be wrong? I was usually such a good judge of character, but was she perhaps as wild in bed as her choice in underwear colours?

  Suddenly, she tensed and looked up. As she rubbed at the back of her neck she ran her gaze over the crowd and caught me staring at her.

  Mierda! I didn’t usually focus on the new talent like this, so God knows why this girl had caught my attention. I inwardly chuckled to myself about how I still resorted to Spanish when swearing, but as my eyes locked with the brunette’s I forgot all other thoughts. Instead of looking away as I should have, I found myself cockily stepping from the shadows and leaning on the bar so she could clearly see me watching her.

  Her eyes widened at my blatant observation, but to give her credit, she didn’t break our gaze. My body felt alive, my mind churning with sudden possibilities. What was this peculiar reaction streaming through me? It was like a current or magnetic force trying to pull me closer to her. She was naturally beautiful, yes, and wearing hardly any make-up, which appealed to me, but still, this was getting stupid. I was staring at her like a stalker.

  Assessing her features again, I changed my earlier assessment; she couldn’t really be labelled a “girl”, she looked at least mid-twenties, but her open naivety in these surroundings was clear on her face, making her look far more innocent than those who shared the bar with her.

  Before I could decide if I should break my own non-fraternisation rule, the girl looked away, busying herself with her handbag again, and the moment we’d shared was broken.

  Drawing in a long breath through my nose, I tried to suppress the urge to go and speak to her. I hadn’t socialised with, or fucked, any of the customers for years. It was far better to keep business and pleasure separate. But dios, she made it so tempting.

  I ripped my gaze away and held my glass up to David for a refill, hoping the burn of the liquor might help. As the first sip of the thick, oaky liquid coated my throat I caught sight of a large silhouette making its way around the perimeter of the club.

  When I saw who it was, my lip curled in distaste. Dominic. A dominant, sadist, and all-round moody bastard. As another of the part-owners of this place he might be my business partner, but that was where our relationship ended. I couldn’t stand him, or his approach to sex. My lips thinned as I watched him stalking in the darker corners of the club, no doubt selecting his next target from the women here tonight.

  My hackles began to rise as I saw him pause, his expression turning interested as he seemed to focus on someone. Zeroing in on his target for the evening, no doubt. Following his gaze to see who he’d selected, I saw him staring at a girl at the bar.

  My girl at the bar, the brunette I’d been watching since she’d arrived.

  Mierda. No.

  Surely even Dominic had enough decency to realise that she was a newbie and steer clear of her? His tastes were far too extreme for someone unacquainted with this lifestyle, as I would bet this girl was. I stood up from my stool and watched him walk towards the reception area, craning my neck to see what he was doing. He spoke briefly to the guy on the desk and pointed towards the girl at the bar before both of their heads dropped to the entry log. Was he trying to find out her name? Fuck. He was. There was not a chance in hell that she would ever be ready to experience the things that Dominic liked to do. But would she be brave enough to knock him back?

  I felt my back straighten out vertebrae by vertebrae until I was stood rod straight and was surprised I hadn’t heard my bones cracking from the tension now in my body. I had no idea why I felt so protective over a girl I’d only laid eyes on just over twenty minutes ago, but I did, and there was not a chance in hell that I was letting Dominic get his paws on her.

  Expelling a breath, I adjusted my shirt collars until they felt perfect, flattened down my suit jacket, and began to make my way through the crowds. Looked like my no-fraternisation rule was about to go up in smoke, because if anyone was going to be talking to her tonight it was going to be me, not Dominic.

  Chapter Four

  Robyn

  I hardly dared to look up again. Not after that weird staring moment I’d just shared with the intense man across the bar. Holy smokes he was handsome, though. The temptation to look back, perhaps even have a little flirt with him, was crawling through my system, but after reminding myself that I was in a sex club I refrained. He might want far more than just a drink and a flirtatious chat, and that was something I most certainly was not planning on researching within the club. Not even with someone as stunningly good-looking as him.

  Thinking of my research, I decided that if I kept my gaze away from his side of the bar I could still make this evening a productive visit.

  After spending a few minutes gawking at my surroundings and dreaming wistfully of my notepad and pen sitting at home beside my laptop, I dug into my handbag and retrieved my phone so I could write some ideas in the notepad app.

  I was so completely engrossed in describin
g the juicy details of the club that when I felt a warm breath feather over the skin near my left ear I let out a startled yelp.

  ‘First time visitor?’ a deep, accented voice close behind me enquired, and I’m not kidding, I think my arse actually leaped a full foot off the leather seat before I crashed back down and wobbled precariously until a firm hand gripped my arm to steady me.

  Tingles were exploding on my bare arm where I was being supported, but instead of dragging it away I settled myself on my stool again and took a breath to try to calm myself. God, I was wound so tight from nerves that just a few whispered words had me practically running from the club screaming like a lunatic. To be honest, the only thing that had stopped me doing exactly that were my painful boots. It would hardly have been a speedy exit with the blisters I had.

  I took several shallow breaths that did nothing to help my equilibrium, and finally turned to my left in trepidation to see who had addressed me – and who was still gripping me.

  Oh good God. It was him. The man I’d dreamed about. Mr Handsome from across the bar. Except he wasn’t across the bar any more. He was right beside me, in all his suited, booted gorgeousness, well and truly invading my personal space and making all the hairs on my body fly up with awareness again.

  Funnily enough, the first thing that sprung to my mind was phew, because out of all the outfits here tonight – leather catsuits, PVC shorts, bikinis made from wire – Mr Handsome did at least look normal. No corset, whip, or rubber suit in sight.

  As I turned to fully face him, I realised that he was a particularly lovely example of normal as well. On closer inspection, it was also obvious that he was way more attractive than any man I could have dreamed up. He was superbly well dressed, his gorgeous navy suit was obviously high quality, and his outfit was completed with a waistcoat and a white cotton shirt that was open at the neck revealing just a touch of chest hair and tanned skin which I couldn’t help but stare at for a few seconds.