Chapter 6

Lockers.

Thatwas how Adalyn had changed after going to the bar with me.

She showed me the women’s area first, explaining that it was reserved for club members but that I could use certain parts of it tonight. Such as the bathrooms and shower areas, but the locker room had a guard in front of it checking memberships.

Wealth and opulence defined the area, giving the club—which I now knew was called Ecstasy—an expensive appeal.

“How did you get a membership here, again?” I asked Adalyn in a whisper as she led me down a hallway framed by red velvet and golden adornments.

“A friend,” she replied vaguely.

“A friend,” I repeated.

She nodded. “A family friend.”

In other words, it was from her background, which I knew was rooted in the elite world. My family came from modest means, our home large enough for a family of five, but cozy and in need of some standard repairs.

Adalyn, however, had grown up as an only child in a mansion large enough to share with a dozen brothers and sisters. Her parents were hardly ever home. And she’d essentially been raised by a nanny.

I didn’t know the full history because she rarely spoke about her family.

I actually hadn’t even known she was rich until last spring when a random man had showed up at our apartment to “escort” her home for some sort of summer retreat. She’d shut down with his arrival, making me question what the hell was going on. I’d never seen my roommate so solemn. So I’d cornered her in her room and demanded an explanation.

That was when she’d first told me about her bizarre relationship with her parents. She’d also confided that she’d spent most of her childhood with her nanny before going to boarding school for ages thirteen through eighteen. From what she’d explained, she rarely saw her family.

I’d asked why she had to go for the summer, and she’d waved it off, saying it was a tradition for the women in her family when they turned twenty to go on some special retreat thing. She’d kept in touch with me weekly, sending me messages and telling me how much she hated it.

Although, she’d never truly explained the experience to me.

But she’d been the same old Adalyn when she’d returned, all smiles and happy confidence.

Just with a brand-new car that was worth more than my parents’ house.

I’d asked why she even bothered with a roommate or our shitty apartment, and she’d given me a look deep with emotion as she’d replied, “I need this normalcy.”

I’d gathered from those few exchanges that she did not like her family life.

Given what little I knew, I couldn’t blame her.

So instead, I became her family at Mason U.

And now she was introducing me to another part of her world—Ecstasy. Which I’d deduced from the interior was an elite club for high-ranking members of society to play.

There were scantily clad women everywhere, as well as a few men. Adalyn explained quietly that they were part of the Ecstasy circuit, working in the clubs and enjoying the clientele.

“So they’re prostitutes?” I whispered back to her.

She shook her head. “Not quite. They’re professionals.”

I slid my gaze to her. “Professional prostitutes?”

“That’s not the right term.”

“Well, no, that would make it illegal.”

“They’re more like mistresses,” she explained, ignoring my comment. “That’s why most of them are collared.” She stroked her throat.

“The whole Master and slave thing.”

She nodded. “Essentially, yes.”

Something told me she was leaving out some details of the arrangements, but I wasn’t here to judge. I was here to learn.

She showed me the main areas of the club, explaining the bar and how the bracelets the guard had given us earlier worked. “The diamond pendant has a chip in it that allows them to charge my account.” She gave me a smile. “I added you under my name since you’re my guest, so don’t worry about the cost of anything.”

“Wait, did you just say diamond pendant?” I glanced down at my wrist in alarm. Forget the barcode insanity. “I’m wearing a diamond?”

She eyed my mask and arched a brow behind her own. “You’re wearing several, Jen.”

My lips parted. “Adalyn.”

She gave me a look. “You’re in my world for the night. Own it.” And with that, she spun away. “Your purse is in my locker, so you might as well keep following me.”

I glared at her swinging ponytail as I forced myself to catch up to her. “What kind of club is this?”

“An exclusive one,” she replied.

That would explain why I’d never heard anyone other than her mention it.

But… “Adalyn, this is crazy.”

“Everything in life is crazy,” she countered. “Don’t fret about it. I’m not asking you to join. Just enjoy the night. It’s all about Operation Forget the Douche, remember?”

“You’re doing a pretty damn good job,” I admitted, glancing around and taking in all the adornments of the club through a new lens. “That’s real gold on the walls…”

She glanced at it and shrugged. “Probably. Most of the clubs have a flair to them, and this one seems to favor gold.”

“There are more clubs like this?”

“All over the world.” Her gaze took on a faraway gleam, then she blinked. “So anyway, this is the main bar. We can hang out here and have some drinks before we head into the public playrooms for some observation. But the downstairs levels are off-limits to nonmembers, so the public playrooms will be the last part of our journey unless a high-ranking member invites you to a private room.”

“Private room?” I echoed.

She nodded. “They can be reserved. Usually only by Doms, but some subs have the ability to request a certain space. Typically at the request of their Dom, though.” She gave another of those nonchalant lifts of her shoulder, like she wasn’t blowing my mind with each statement, and headed toward the bar.

I followed because I wasn’t sure what else to do.

The bartender greeted her by name, recognizing her even with the mask on, and scanned her wrist before making her a drink—a drink she didn’t actually order. But the bartender clearly knew her preferences because he returned with a chocolate martini. “Does your guest want anything?” he asked, his eyes on Adalyn instead of me.

She glanced at me, her dark eyes lingering. “She needs something strong. It’s her first time in a club like this.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Something strong, but not too powerful. Consent is important.”

She dipped her chin in agreement, but her gaze took on that faraway gleam again. Except it disappeared in a blink as she pointed to a section of couches. “That’s where I usually like to wait.”

“Wait?” I repeated.

“For someone to approach me,” she explained, her gaze twinkling. “Come on, I’ll teach you. Francesco will bring the drink to us.”

“Will I?” he drawled.

She gave him a sweet smile. “Won’t you?”

He returned her look with a knowing one. “Brat.”

“You love it.”

He shook his head and chuckled. “Go to your throne. I’ll serve you in a minute, Your Majesty.”

“You’re too kind,” she replied, blowing him a kiss before picking up her martini and carefully leading the way to her favorite couch. She set the glass on the table in front of it, then sat down with a graceful flourish I envied. Adalyn always made everything look easy.

I settled beside her—far less gracefully—and crossed my legs. “This is a really soft couch.”

“I know. I’ve slept on it before.”

I glanced at her. “You spend a lot of time here.”

“I have a quota,” she replied, giving me a grin.

“A quota?”

She merely smiled again, then started searching the room without explaining her word choice. Knowing Adalyn, it was her way of making a joke about her need for sex.

I wished I could be as open and as adventurous as her. But my mind had been thoroughly wrapped up in—

Nope.

Not thinking his name tonight.

I’m Jen.

And Jen wants orgasms.

Which meant I needed to scan the room with Adalyn to find someone interesting to play with.

Or at least someone to watch.

I suspected I would be more into the latter than the former. This whole world was too foreign for me to play with someone I didn’t know. Although, if I was going to have sex with a stranger, I supposed this was the kind of place to do that in, especially since there appeared to be security everywhere.

Francesco brought me a citrusy drink and set a plate of cheese and vegetables on the table with a little tin of mints beside it. “Behave.” His eyes were on Adalyn as he said it.

“Do I ever not behave?”

He snorted, similarly to the guard outside. “You just want a spanking.”

“Always,” she replied, giving him another sweet grin.

He shook his head, his dark, wavy hair falling into his eyes. “You’re incorrigible, princess.”

“I try.” She batted her long lashes at him, and he left with a chuckle.

“You seem to know each other well,” I commented.

“He’s helped with my aftercare a few times,” she replied.

“Aftercare?”

“Post sex,” she explained. “Most Doms manage it. Some do not.” Something dark entered her expression as she said it. But it was gone in a blink again, her mask falling into place.

She did this often at home.

Whenever I asked about it, she waved it away, saying the past wasn’t something she enjoyed reliving, and moved on to other topics.

Sometimes I wondered how well I knew her. Tonight was one of those times as I watched her survey the crowd while we sipped our drinks in silence. Mine was citrusy and sweet, but it tasted good.

So good that I nearly drank the whole thing in the span of minutes.

“There are much hotter men out there,” she said conversationally, clearly feeling my eyes on her. “Like the duo who just entered.”

I took the hint and followed her gaze.

And almost dropped my mostly empty glass on the floor. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” she asked.

But it was too late.

Pierce’s gaze landed on me the moment I spoke, almost as though he could hear me from all the way across the room. An impossible feat, considering we were so far apart.

My brother stood beside him, his focus on the bar.

I immediately turned to face Adalyn. “That’s Pierce in the all-black suit.” I swallowed, my eyes fluttering closed as I tried not to think about how delicious he looked in elegant attire. “And the man next to him is my brother.” I hadn’t caught the color of his suit, my focus having been solely on the man I was trying not to think about tonight.

Her lips formed a little “O.” Then she glanced around me. “The blond is your brother?”

“Yeah,” I whispered.

She nodded a little. “He’s heading toward the bar.”

My shoulders sagged in relief.

“But the other one is heading our way,” she added, immediately causing my shoulders to tense again. “And the ruby ring he’s wearing means he’s a member.” She spoke those words with a softness that bordered on fear.

“Is that bad?”

“It means he knows people,” she whispered, her gaze lowering. “Powerful people.”

I frowned. “Pierce doesn’t—”

A hand landed on my shoulder, the heat branding my skin. A cloud of minty aftershave surrounded me in the next second as the male in question leaned down to press his lips to my ear. “What the fuck are you doing here, Jenica?”