Little Red Riding Crop(5)
“I’ve heard tales of your bed, Mistress. Urban legends.”
“I live in Connecticut. They’d have to be suburban legends. I’ve heard tell of your bed too. Trees as bedposts, right?”
“You’re getting me confused with Odysseus.”
Nora raised an eyebrow, impressed despite herself.
“Brawn and brains–I would never have guessed. But then again, I don’t know anything about you.”
“Born in Albany. Played football at Rutgers. Rhodes scholar. Love kink. Hate normal jobs. Divorced. No kids. There. That’s the beginning and end of my life story.”
“Divorced, huh? Vanilla ex-wife?”
“How’d you guess?”
“I’m smart too. Used to a fuck a Rhodes scholar. By the way … are you going to invite me in?”
“Should I?”
Nora thought about that question and decided honesty would win her more points than charm.
“Nope.”
Brad raised a dark eyebrow at her and said nothing. Maybe she should have gone with charm.
While waiting for Brad to make up his mind, Nora started to twirl her riding crop in her hand like a baton. She did that often when burning off nervous energy.
Brad merely watched her. How many damn games of chicken was she going to get into with incredibly sexy men today?
“If I let you in, will you promise not to break anything … or anyone?”
Nora spun the crop one more time.
“Nope.”
“The Dame will have my hide if I let you in and you know it.”
“Then let’s hope you’re into that sort of thing.”
Nora smiled again at him, the smile she reserved for midnight conversations whispered across black sheets. It seemed to work. Brad took a step back and let her pass.
Finally inside Black Forest, Nora took a moment to simply look around. Kingsley’s Underground Empire included half a dozen clubs all over Manhattan. But he only had one club that existed solely for their kind. The 8th Circle, as it was known to insiders, had been carved from the ruins of an old condemned hotel. Kingsley hadn’t done much to spruce up the joint. The seediness of the club suited the clientele. But where The 8th Circle catered to money, Black Forest reeked of it. Black chandeliers with black light bulbs swung low from the black-and-gold ceilings. Leather chairs and sofas littered the floor. A dozen doors lined the first and second floor–doors that led to private rooms for secret activities.
“You don’t like it, do you?” Brad came to stand behind her, so close she could feel the heat of his skin radiating from his bare chest.
“Bit middle-class, isn’t it? Got a Rotary Club feel to it.”
“It’s a helluva lot nicer than that shit-hole you work in.”
“Exactly. We don’t have to look pretty to get our millionaires through the door. They get that at home.”
“Black Forest is doing extremely well.”
“Must not be doing that well if you have to keep poaching Kingsley’s people.” Nora spun around and attempted to stare Brad down. It would have worked, but she had to look so far up to stare him down …
“Kingsley works his people into the ground. No days off. No breaks. No vacations.”
“He’s a sadist.”
“He’s a bad boss.”
“And The Dame is so much better?”
“She is actually.”
“Then I should meet her,” Nora said, heading toward the stairs. “We can talk 401Ks and dental insurance. You get dental, right?”
For a man built like a linebacker, Brad could move with shocking speed. He interposed himself between Nora and the staircase and stared down at her.
“That’s not fair.” Nora flashed him a pout. “If I can’t stare you down you can’t stare me down.”
“You’re on The Dame’s territory. She makes the rules. I enforce them.”
“Great plan. I’d like to talk to her about it.” Nora tried to push her way past Brad and got nothing for her trouble but a few delicious seconds with her hand on his chest.
“No one talks to The Dame.”
“Then I’ll just listen.”
“No one listens to The Dame either.”
“Fantastic boss you have there then. Come on, Brad. Five minutes. All I need is five minutes with her.”
“For what? Are you really thinking of leaving Kingsley for this middle-class Rotary club, as you called it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Let me talk to The Dame. If she makes me an offer I can’t refuse … well, then I won’t refuse it.”
“I do the recruiting for the club.”
“Well then …” Nora took a step back and tapped her chin with the tip of her riding crop. She saw something heated and mischievous gleaming in Brad’s dark eyes. “Maybe you should try to recruit me.”