10. East

TEN

east

THIS BLINDFOLD BETTER mean there's about to be some kinky fuckery going down.

I didn't usually give anyone else control—well, outside of the bedroom—which was the only reason I'd agreed to sign my life away and sit in the back of this insanely expensive limo…blindfolded.

Zac wasn't wrong—there was a high possibility we were being driven to some dingy warehouse over by the Hudson River where we could be tied up and held for ransom. But I was betting on my prediction being likelier. The one that made the most sense, considering the lengths our hosts, whoever they were, had gone to in an effort to seduce us.

A sex club.

Besides, if someone was out to kidnap me, why would Zac be here too? Yes, I was almost certain I was right, and if I wasn't—well, my father had enough money to pay my ransom.

As the limo continued on, I let my mind go wild with possibilities. If this was indeed a sex club, it wouldn't be the first I'd gone to. It was the most unique, though, and I would be sure to let them know that. It was always important to be a standout in Manhattan, and I was sure the owners would appreciate my feedback.

"I've never heard you this quiet before," Zac said. "Having second thoughts?"

"Not one. You?"

"Only about a million."

That was hardly a surprise. Zac was a worrier by nature, which was cute, when he wasn't rushing my orgasm or abruptly ending his own. Which is why we'd—for the most part—kept our hookups off campus.

Until our recent run-in with Professor Kingston. Whoops .

"Well, stop. If worse comes to worst, they'll add some handcuffs and call my father."

"Now that really would be worse if this is a sex club."

"Ah, I see you're not worried enough to have lost your sense of humor. I meant , they would call him to procure our release."

I could almost hear Zac's eyes roll as the limo drew to a stop.

The driver's door was opened, and my ears pricked up, wondering if I could somehow work out where we were by ambient sounds. But then I realized this wasn't a movie and I needed to stop being so damn ridiculous.

"Did you hear that?"

Seemed I wasn't the only one imagining I had superhuman hearing. "What?"

"We've stopped. He got out. I can hear him walking around?—"

The door beside Zac opened and a rush of cool night air entered the limo. "We've arrived," the driver said. "Keep your blindfolds on or this ends."

No problem there. I'd gotten out of enough limos in my life to gracefully make my exit, even blindfolded. Zac, on the other hand…

"Shit." There was a thud and then another curse as he moved ahead of me.

"Careful. You don't want the only bruises you get tonight to be from being unable to get out of the vehicle."

Zac threw another curse over his shoulder, clearly directed at me, and kept moving, eventually stumbling his way outside.

I felt for the door opening and carefully stepped out, but a gust of cold wind nearly knocked me over, and I smashed into Zac. His hands caught me by the waist, and lingered there as I found my footing.

"You good?" he asked. I wasn't sure if he even noticed the way his thumbs swept back and forth in a soothing motion, but it felt nice. Too nice.

"Fine." I backed away, and he dropped his arms.

"There will be stairs inside," the driver said. "You'll both be given guides. Do not speak to them. They will not speak to you. Understood?"

This driver was a bossy fucker. No way in hell would my driver be throwing orders around like he was.

"Sir, yes, sir," I smartassed as the wind kicked up again. Damn it was cold. We'd better not be pitching a tent outside, or I was out.

"Understood," Zac said.

"Good. They'll hold on to you, not the other way around." To emphasize that point, a firm hand grabbed my bicep. "Let's get going."

That seemed to be directed more to our guides than to us, and as mine began to move, my first instinct was to rebel, to jerk out of his grip, rip off my blindfold, and tell them all to fuck off. Instead, I took in a deep lungful of air and let the stranger lead me out of the wind and into what felt like an enclosed space. A door shut behind us, sending an echo through the room.

Sex club, sex club, sex club.

It was so silent all I could hear was the pounding of my heart as it quickened in anticipation, and then the shuffling of feet as we began to move again, down stairs and then long halls that grew chillier as we descended. When we got to the bottom of one set of stairs and began to move again, there was a low flickering sound and warmth that reached my cheeks every few feet. Candles? Torches, maybe?

Still we walked, and the urge to toss out a remark about how long it was taking was so strong I had to literally bite my tongue.Maybe this had been a bad idea. What if we were willingly allowing ourselves to be taken to the bowels of some filth-infested building where we'd be buried alive?

We came to a stop, something heavy creaked open, and as we were pulled inside, I sniffed at the air.

Wherever we were now, it wasn't filth-infested. It smelled…really fucking good, actually. As we walked, we drifted through clouds of expensive men's cologne, one after the other, and the flickering noise grew louder, the only sound I could hear.

My handler brought me to a stop, whispered, "Stay," and then let go of my arm.

Stay? Like I was a fucking dog? What was next, roll over?

The sound of retreating footsteps echoed around me, even as I felt the presence of another stop beside me—Zac.

Apparently we'd arrived at our final destination, and all I could think was that hopefully it wasn't truly final.

I rubbed my hands on the sides of my pants, my usual confidence waning slightly now that we were about to find out where we were and why.What if this had been a monumental mistake? What if Zac had been right? No one knew where I was, not even my friends. West thought I'd gone to Onyx for the night.

But now wasn't the time to freak out. I needed to trust my gut, trust my instincts, because they'd never led me wrong in the past. Well, not much, anyway.

The heavy sound of a door closing, followed by a louder, much more sinister bolt or lock, vibrated through the room, and then…silence.

Had everyone left? Was I alone? I shifted a little to the right, and when my hand brushed against a sleeve, I knew Zac was still there.

Thank God.

"Remove your blindfolds."

The commanding voice that issued the order was deep, powerful, and full of authority. It left no room for disobedience, and as I reached for my blindfold and finally drew it off my head, my eyes struggled to adjust to the flickering lights surrounding us.

A blur of figures came into focus, and I blinked several times, trying to make sense of what I was seeing, but the room was full of shadows. The torches—that was where the heat was coming from—only offered up glimpses of what was in front of me.

My heart thundered as I snuck a glance to my right to see Zac removing his blindfold, and when my eyes finally cleared, I turned back to see seven cloaked figures standing in front of us.

Each was draped in an intricately textured robe that fell in heavy, cascading folds from their shoulders to the floor, obscuring their forms completely. The hoods were pulled low, casting deep shadows over their masked faces. The only visible parts of their bodies were their eyes.

Even with our blindfolds gone, whoever these people were wanted to continue concealing their identities.

Who the fuck were they? And what was this place?

I didn't even have time to hazard a guess, because the towering figure in the center stepped forward. They reached for the edges of their mask and in one smooth move slid it up onto their head, making the hood fall free.

My pulse kicked up several notches as the man behind the mask came into view and I found myself face to face with Professor Kingston.

"I heard you were looking for me."