But before she could ask, the door opened and a man stepped outside, heading toward their vehicle.
Shayla flashed her a conspiratorial grin. “Okay, it’s showtime.”
Shoving aside her confusion, Chloé exited the vehicle. This was it. She was really about to do this.
“Good evening, ladies,” the man said before he turned to Shayla. “Miss Bianchi. Would you like me to park your vehicle for you this evening?”
Wow, valet at a sex club. This place really is high end.
Shayla handed over her keys. “That would be great. Thank you.”
“Of course. The bosses are expecting you.”
Chloé’s eyes widened at that little announcement, as the man then slipped behind the steering wheel and sped off down the street.
“The bosses? I’m sorry, but did you get a new job I don’t know about?”
Shayla laughed and hooked an arm through Chloé’s elbow as she led them toward the entrance of the club. “No. They just say that as part of the theme of spending the night at The Office.”
“Oh, that’s clever.”
“Mhmm. Now, are you sure about this?”
“One hundred percent. This is all I’ve been thinking about since you agreed to bring me.”
“I know. But thinking about it and experiencing it are two very different things. I’d understand if you want to back out.”
Chloé shook her head. “No way. I’m not some innocent little wallflower, Shay. That would be practically impossible growing up with my fathers. But you know how they are. They’re so protective that I’ve ended up with no dates—well, second ones, anyway—no boyfriends, and absolutely zero love life.”
“Uh, I’m not sure that this is the place to find any of those things.”
“You know what I mean. I just want to have some fun tonight. I want to take the ribbon off my eyes and see what’s out there.”
“Well, you’re definitely going to do that. Let’s just hope your fathers don’t use that ribbon to strangle us if they ever find out.”
“They won’t.”
“Let’s hope.”
Shayla knocked on the door and, as it opened, stepped aside for Chloé to go on in ahead. She walked across the threshold, and as her eyes drank in her new surroundings, she felt as though she’d entered a whole new world.
Oh my God. Talk about hiding in plain sight.
If the outside of this place had seemed totally normal, the inside was unlike anything she had ever seen in Chicago. Walls that appeared to be carved out of stone arched overhead like something out of a medieval castle. Gilded mirrors and paintings displaying images of seduction hung from the walls, and the chandelier above flooded the space in golden tones that added a certain luxury to the place that Chloé never could’ve imagined.
As the door clicked shut behind them, enveloping them in the building’s forbidden embrace, a beautiful woman stepped out from behind a door at the far end of the foyer then made her way over to a large desk that lined one side of the elegant space.
“Welcome back, Miss Bianchi.” The instant familiarity once again showed just how exclusive this club really was. “I see you’ve brought a guest with you tonight.”
Chloé aimed a smile in the woman’s direction, her fingers tightening on her purse where the fake ID was.
Please don’t ask to see it. Please don’t ask to see it.
“That’s right,” Shayla said as she stepped up to the desk. “She’s just interested in observing. General floor only.”
“Of course.” The woman produced a tablet and slid it over the smooth desktop in Chloé’s direction. “If you could please read over this and sign at the bottom. It’s to verify that you’re entering The Office of your own volition, and that anything you see or hear once inside remains private. If you wish to embark on a personal desire or fantasy, we’ll have to do a more extensive background check before we would be able to match you.”
A personal desire or fantasy? What would that be like? Chloé glanced at Shayla, who shook her head. Guess I won’t be finding out tonight, spoilsport.
She went back to filling out the form, adding her fake name and birthday she’d memorized from the ID, then scrawled an illegible signature across the bottom.
She knew what she was doing was risky, but at the same time, she figured she was just going in to watch. She wasn’t actually going to do anything. So it wasn’t all that bad…right?
Chloé handed the tablet back, and before she could worry she was about to be found out, the woman gestured for her arm. She held it out and watched as a white band was secured around her wrist and a red one around Shayla’s.
“Have a good night, ladies.”
“Thank you,” Shayla said, then she grabbed hold of Chloé’s arm and led her to the door at the end of the foyer.
This area was lit much the same as the entrance to the building. But instead of a large chandelier casting the glow, ornate sconces lined the wall to where a set of stone stairs led underground. A throbbing, pulse-pounding beat could be heard from below, and when Chloé looked at Shayla, she grinned.
“Well, let’s go, birthday girl.”
Chloé was all but vibrating with excitement as she followed her cousin down the stairs, and just like in the foyer, paintings adorned the walls. These renderings, however, were much more explicit. From boudoir to fetish and a whole lot of kink, the images conjured up what they might see when they finally reached their destination.
Her pulse quickened at the thought as the music got a little louder, and when they finally reached the bottom of the stairs, the gold lighting was swallowed up by a deep crimson hue that beckoned a person to come and play.
“Holy Mother of God…” Chloé whispered, sweeping her eyes over the sinful scene now only feet away from her.
Chandeliers set low gave off enough light to illuminate skin and create shadows as Shayla led her through the velvet booths, tables, and ottomans wide enough for one, two—okay, four—and it took everything Chloé had to keep her mouth from falling open.
She wasn’t a prude by any means, and she’d been serious about not being innocent. But as open, unconventional, and…French as her fathers were, she’d never been face to face with so much skin—or so much skin in states of sexual play—in her life.
It was a feast for the eyes and an overload for the senses as she tried to process everything she was seeing.
Latex, leather, corsets, and suits. There were men and women in all states of play. Some were dressed, some were not so dressed, as tongues tangled and mouths swallowed, and the varying couples, throuples, and group situations had her mind going wild.
She was fascinated by the openness of everyone. Entranced by their willingness to go after what they wanted, no matter who was around to see. It was thrilling, exciting, and by the time they reached the bar, Chloé was already thinking up ways to get Shayla to bring her back.
“Well, what do you think?” Shayla slipped onto one of the barstools, and Chloé did the same.
“I think this place is…” When she couldn’t think of the right adjective, Shayla laughed.
“I know. That’s how I felt the first time I came here.”