Three Dirty Secrets (Blindfold Club #4)

by Nikki Sloane

  When Marquis wasn’t a bouncer at the club, he boxed. His frame was lean and toned, not an ounce of fat allowed. I’d heard what he lacked in technique in the ring, he made up for with cruelty. He didn’t win half his matches, but he’d been successful in sending a few opponents to the hospital. Broken noses, ribs, a ruptured spleen. Aggression poured off of him, vibrating at a frequency too loud to be ignored. The only good thing about it was it kept the johns in check.

  Marquis flashed a wide, fake smile, and his white teeth contrasted sharply with his black skin. I returned the same fake smile, and went through the interior door as he announced my arrival into the comm. I wasn’t afraid of Marquis, but was more comfortable when he wasn’t around. Our relationship was held together by the thinnest web of lies.

  I hadn’t heard all the details of his arrest. The DEA had caught him with an automatic weapon, and he’d offered up the club to save his ass. He’d been less than thrilled when the FBI got involved and told him the only way to avoid prison was to help me infiltrate the club’s operation. He’d done it, though. Marquis vouched for me to Joseph, and after I’d proved myself, I was hired full-time. I’d even become the best sales assistant here.

  Yet Marquis could turn on me at any time, and he looked like he expected the same from me. There wasn’t trust, only the unspoken agreement not to fuck the other person over. He seemed to be a ticking time bomb. The question wasn’t if Marquis would sell me out, only a matter of when it would happen. His resentment over his situation should have been self-directed, but instead he’d placed it all on me.

  I swung by Julius’s office before heading into the dressing room. He was an enormous bear of a man, and the small desk only exaggerated his wide build.

  “Wow, love the suit,” I said.

  Dark wool clung expertly to him, and the deep red dress shirt looked, well, surprisingly sexy. Julius’s dark eyes lit up. “Thanks. Payton found a guy who makes custom stuff.”

  His other suits were fine, but I could see the tailoring that went into it. Perfectly made for him, and what a difference. Julius had come a long way in looking the part of manager. More refined and elegant than his days as bouncer. A handful of the regulars, always older and white, had struggled with doing business with the man they’d written off as a thug.

  “Did you get any potential client calls,” I asked, “that mentioned me this week?”

  Julius scrubbed a hand on his shaved head. “Don’t think so, why?”

  I hid the disappointment from my voice. “I gave my card to someone. They seemed interested.”

  He glanced at the sheet in front of him. “He’d be outta luck anyway. We’re full. You got Tara tonight, Room Two.”

  “Yeah?” My voice pitched upward. “Great.” If you asked anyone which working girl was the best looking, the answer would be Tara. The crown had passed from Payton when she’d left for Japan.

  It didn’t take long to find Tara across the hall in the dressing room. She sat in front of one of the mirrors, wrapping strands of her long blonde hair around a thick barreled curing iron, and when her gaze met mine through the glass, she smiled.

  She had a not-so-secret crush on me. An infatuation, but only with my hair, she’d joked one night. I refused to feel awkward, especially since I was kind of flattered. She was a gorgeous woman who could have nearly anyone, and her bisexuality gave her plenty of options.

  I’d messed around with another girl once in college, the total cliché experience. Too much Jäger had made us both handsy, and we’d fooled around on a couch at a house party after everyone else had passed out. The girl freaked the next morning, called me a lesbian, and I never saw her after that.

  I preferred men. Their feelings weren’t overly complicated and what they wanted was clear.

  “Hey, Regan.” Her voice was as warm as her expression. “Are you taking your boyfriend to Payton’s wedding? Please tell me he has to work so I’m not the only person going solo.”

  “Actually, we broke up a few weeks ago.”

  She paused and her face went serious. “Oh, no. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” I set a hand on my waist and tugged my lips back into a small smile. “We’ve both moved on. I just wish he’d waited until after we’d broken up before sticking his dick in someone else.”

  She shook her head and resumed her curling. “Fucker. A guy who’d cheat on that hair? You’re better off.”

  I forced a laugh and went to the Room Two cubby, depositing my purse and retrieving the comm pack. But of course I checked my phone a final time, only to see I had no missed calls or texts. As I installed the earpiece in my left ear, I chatted with Tara. Everyone at the club had been invited, but it was surprising she was planning to go to Payton’s wedding alone. Dating had to be difficult for a working girl, but it wasn’t impossible. Nina made it work.

  By eleven p.m. I had Tara in Room Two and strapped down to the table, her gorgeous pale skin illuminated under the crystal chandelier. Her blonde strands were held back in place by the black blindfold, and the only color on her was her petal pink lips. Her nude body totally on display usually sent the clients into shock. I couldn’t blame them. She was magnificent.

  Who would it be for her tonight? She had a regular, but Mr. Gold wasn’t on the schedule and he wasn’t one to show up unannounced. I sat on the edge of the white wingback chair, waiting to get the confirmation that Room Two was next.

  My mind was set. I’d call Joseph later tonight for Silas’s number. There wasn’t a point in fighting it any longer. I didn’t want to get involved while undercover, but . . . I wouldn’t be undercover forever. I was sure Roland would come to the club, and once I landed him, I’d feel satisfied. I’d end the assignment successfully, and that would clear the way if I wanted to try anything serious with Silas.

  The comm buzzed in my ear. “Regan, Room One is in negotiations, standby.”

  I pushed off of the chair and straightened my skirt as I stood, then tousled my hair a final time.

  “Client on his way to Room Two.” Marquis’s thick voice stormed through the earpiece.

  We wouldn’t hear the footsteps as the men approached because each room was soundproof. Joseph had designed the place to provide ultimate privacy. He wouldn’t have cracks of paddles or moans of pleasure bleeding from another room and disrupting a client’s evening.

  The door swung open and the client stepped inside, and I caught Marquis’s sneer for a split second before he pulled the door shut. The client was hulking, and—

  Oh. My. God.

  My mouth fell open but I couldn’t produce words. I couldn’t even find air to breathe.

  Silas’s hands at his sides were tensed into fists. His gaze found mine and didn’t deviate. The icy blue eyes blinked once, and his expression was . . . harsh. Guarded. What the fuck was he doing here, and why did he look pissed?

  I stared at him. He wore his black bike jacket, a simple white V-neck shirt, and stone gray pants, dressed way down from the suits we usually saw at the club. I was supposed to give him a greeting but I couldn’t force it out. “What are you doing here?”

  “You owe me a memory card. I’m not leaving until I have your number, Regan.”

  Tara’s gasp was subtle, but audible.

  What was he talking about? “I don’t understand. I gave you my number. I’ve been waiting for you to call.”

  “How?” His hand dug in his pocket as he strode toward me, and then he produced the torn piece of newsprint. “With this?”

  He held it up for me to see. My handwriting in red was a bloody mess. The R of my name was the only thing legible- the rest looked like blobs. The marker had bled and smeared with the black newspaper ink, making it impossible to see a single digit.

  “It didn’t look like that when I wrote it. I mean, it was dark, but I had no idea it would spread like that.” Jesus. I’d wanted him to call but left him no way to do it.

  “You could have woken me up so I could put it in my phone. You know, instead o
f bailing on me again.”

  I was annoyed that he was annoyed with me, and set my jaw. “I had every intention of giving it to you.”

  He freed his cellphone from a pocket, tapped in a code, and then waited on me with a pointed look. “Yeah?”

  I rattled my number off and he typed it in, only to hold the phone up to an ear.

  It was obvious what he was doing. “I don’t have it on me,” I said. “But the voicemail should tell you I didn’t give you a fake number. Because, like I said, I had every intention of giving you mine.”

  It was deathly quiet until my recorded voice played, muffled against his ear. His shoulders relaxed a degree as he turned it off and tucked the phone back in a pocket. As he collected himself, his gaze drifted to his left—

  It snapped right back to mine, but there was fire there. Like he was trying very hard not to think about the beautifully naked woman on the table.

  “It’s a bit drastic,” I said, “coming here for my number.”

  Every moment that passed between us, the tension in Silas seemed to fade, and heat moved into its place. His expression filled with desire. “When I see something I want, I go for it.” He tossed my words back at me, more or less the same ones I’d said when he’d finished the tattoo.

  “And Joseph wasn’t any help?”

  “He helped.”

  I tilted my head to the side. How? Clearly Joseph hadn’t given him my number.

  Silas hooked his thumbs into the belt loops of his pants. “He told me to come here and he’d cover whatever price you wanted.”

  My knees almost gave out but I locked them in place. “What? I am not fucking you for money.”

  In my shock, I hadn’t been aware he’d moved closer until he was right in front of me, a hand on my waist. His voice dipped low. “Okay, you’ll fuck me for free?”

  There wasn’t audio in the room unless I turned my comm on, but there was a camera. One of my stipulations with the assignment was the FBI never linked into the feed. I couldn’t do what I had to, knowing my coworkers were watching, night after night. There was a backup drive I’d planted in Joseph’s office my third week here. I pulled the data from it Saturday nights, examined the johns, and wiped it to make room for the upcoming weekend.

  At least, the FBI not watching was what I’d been led to believe, but I’d be a fool to trust the bureau completely. This ongoing operation was the crown jewel, probably too valuable to give me free rein. There was always the chance the hidden camera in the corner of this room was broadcasting to an FBI receiver somewhere outside the building.

  “The only woman in this room,” I said, my voice low to match his, “you’re allowed to fuck right now is on the table. Are you interested, sir?”

  The thought on his face was loud, screaming “Avoid. This question is a trap.” His hand on my waist tightened and he hauled me up against him. “I’m only interested in this.”

  Oh, really? I smirked as I shook off his hold. A bluff, and I couldn’t help but challenge it. “Then you’re crazy, because I think she’s spectacular.”

  I felt off-kilter with Silas here. I liked being the one in control, leading the client through the bargaining process. I was used to them wanting the woman I was selling, but this man flipped everything upside down. It wasn’t fair to Tara to lose out on a paying customer.

  His eyes went thin and skeptical. “I don’t get what game you’re playing.”

  Now it was my turn to bluff. I laughed softly. “I’m not playing a game. I’m just doing my job. A client walks through this door, and I’m supposed to negotiate.”

  “For wine.”

  I strolled on my heels toward Tara. She had to be wondering what the hell was going on. “Yes,” I said. “Would you like a taste?”

  I expected him to say something. To call me out for egging him on, but there was no response and it forced me to act. My fingertips glided down her arm and across her stomach. Any second he’d give me a command to stop.

  Only it didn’t happen. I dipped my fingers down between her legs, which parted to give me more room, urging me to touch her. Holy shit, she was hot and already wet. There was a reaction from him finally.

  He inhaled sharply. “You’re touching her.”

  I am, Captain Obvious. “Yes.”

  “Do you like doing that?”

  His question gave me pause. No one had ever asked me that before. I’d done it enough times there’d become a disconnect—I no longer thought about the sexual act I was performing on another woman. Did I like this? The woman on the table at my mercy? “Yes,” I whispered. “I do.”

  “What if,” Silas said in a deep, slow voice, “I purchased the wine . . . so I could watch you drink it?”

  I froze, my entire body locking up. We’d volleyed bluffs back and forth, but he’d just upped the ante. Was he testing me, or was this something he actually wanted? My fingers withdrew from her, and my head churned with thoughts. Did I want this? To let Silas purchase a night with Tara, so he could watch us together?

  She didn’t have an issue with it, and he’d said Joseph would cover the cost . . . No, this was a bluff. He was trying to see how far he could push me.

  “Ten thousand.” My tone was firm, although inside I was quivering. What if he said yes? God, his expression was hard to read. I watched his body language, trying to pick up on the subtle cues to how he was feeling, but he wasn’t giving me anything to go on.

  “Three.” His tone was also firm.

  His gaze didn’t waver from mine and it was stifling under his intense stare. Shit, what now? I’d started negotiations with Silas, hadn’t given Tara any information about him, and now I needed to give her a signal on whether or not I thought we could bargain higher. Only I had no clue. Was it a side effect of him negotiating with someone else’s money, or the fact that Silas could walk away from the sale easily? He wasn’t like the other clients. His interest was focused on me.

  “The ball’s in your court,” I said and brushed my hand on Tara’s hip. The sports reference should help, but I was taking the coward’s way out, letting her gamble on trying to get him to increase the bid.

  “Yes,” she said instantly, like she couldn’t get the word out fast enough.

  Oh my God.

  What the fuck just happened? When the deal was struck, this was typically when I made my exit, but now? I stared at Silas, wide-eyed, my bluff called. My gaze dropped to the floor as my mind raced.

  Fuck it. The dirtiest part of me was excited. I hadn’t messed around with her for a bunch of reasons, one of which was I hadn’t been single. Everything was different. The woman before me was now mine. Silas wanted a show? I’d give him a fucking show. My attention went to the corner.

  “Pick that chair up,” I ordered, casting a hand in the opposite direction, right by the door. “I want it moved there.”

  Silas was rooted in place, as if the last thing he’d expected was for me to go along with the insane deal. “What? Why?”

  “There’s a camera in here. You’re going to turn it off.”

  Heavy footfalls rang out as he went. His hands wrapped around the heavy chair and it screeched and shuddered across the floor as it went. My hands were already sweaty when I pressed the button on my receiver.

  “Julius, come in.”

  “I got you. What’s wrong?”

  “I need a favor.” Could he hear I was almost breathless? “I’ve reached a deal, but it’s unusual, and I need to turn off the camera.”

  “Fuck no, Regan. That white boy is huge.” Of course he was worried about Tara’s safety.

  My nerves rattled in my chest as I stared at Silas, speaking to both the man in the room and the one upstairs simultaneously. “He’s not going to touch her. I’ll stay in the room and keep my earpiece in, so if he does anything he shouldn’t, you’ll be the first to know about it.”

  “What the fuck is going on? He ain’t gonna touch her?”

  “No. I am.”

  There was silence on
the other end of the comm. Was it still working?

  “Julius?”

  “Yeah, girl. You sure you know what you’re doing?”

  Not really, but hopefully my words were convincing. “Yeah. Don’t send anyone in here while the camera’s off unless I tell you to.”

  I didn’t threaten Julius, but my tone implied there would be hell to pay if he disobeyed this order. If Marquis came in, there wouldn’t be a way to keep whatever I was about to do quiet.

  “See me when you’re done.” It was followed by a faint click, announcing Julius had switched off his mic.

  Silas waited like a statue, his gaze the only thing moving. It had followed every small circuit I’d made as I paced the room. I had clearance from Julius. The only thing left to deal with was the camera.

  “I’m not tall enough,” I said to Silas. “You see that square where it looks like a tile is missing?”

  I didn’t have to tell him what to do. He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the side of the chair, then climbed onto the seat. His beautifully patterned arm reached up so he could grope a hand into the hole.

  My lips pressed together as he withdrew the small camera with the wide angle lens. He studied it for a moment, then glanced over his shoulder, waiting further instructions.

  It probably had an On/Off switch, but without a light on the camera, I went with the easiest choice. “Unhook the power cord.”

  Silas disengaged it with a soft pop and set the camera back in its nook with the lens pointed away from the room. A weight lifted from my shoulders. Not all of it, but enough so I no longer felt a million pairs of eyes on me. Now there was only Silas’s heavy gaze to labor under.

  There was a loud thud as he stepped down off the chair and his expression was curious. “What happens now?”

  Chapter

  THIRTEEN

  It was an excellent question. My new role as client instead of sales assistant was awkward, and I struggled to make the shift. I could do whatever, but what the fuck did I want?