I jolt at his words. His hand tightens on my hip, obviously a warning for me to keep my cool. It would’ve been nice to get a heads-up. I had no idea he was telling people I was his girlfriend. Pierre smirks.
“Ah, yes. The good ones always go first, don’t they? It’s nice to meet you,” he says, shaking my hand. “You’ll stick around for the show later?”
Baz nods while I frown. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Are you wanting your regular room for the night?”
My frown deepens thoughtfully when Baz nods again, already moving on from his conversation with Pierre to the next group.
“Give me a second. I’ll be right back,” he whispers near my ear, letting his lips graze the shell seductively, sending yet another tremor down my spine.
What the hell is going on? A room, a show? Where are we?
I stand around dumbly, waiting on Baz to come back. A startled yelp falls from my lips when a man stands beside me to introduce himself. He takes my hand in his, his grip tight, making it so I’m unable to wrangle myself free. He’s speaking to me, saying something, but with the blaring alarms going off in my head, I can’t seem to focus. Once he begins toying with my hair, I start to worry, glancing around, wondering where Baz is.
Relief courses through my system when I hear a sharp, pained breath and turn to find Baz with his hand cuffed tightly around the back of the man’s neck. Baz bends low, keeping his icy gaze fixed on mine, as he says something under his breath only the two of them can hear. When he pulls away and the guy goes skittering off, without so much as a glance back at me, I breathe a sigh of relief.
That relief soon turns into wariness as I stare at Baz. What the hell was that?
What did he tell him to make him run like that?
Once we have a little break from introductions and talking mindlessly with other guests, I pull Baz aside and demand to know what’s going on.
“That was weird, Baz. This whole place is weird. Can you please just tell me what is going on?”
He stares down at me, our eyes having their own silent conversation without our permission. Suddenly, a bell chimes throughout the lower level of the mansion. Everyone starts whispering, then disappearing into the hall that I’m assuming leads to another room.
“Just in time for the show.” Downing the rest of his drink, he takes my hand and leads the way. My palm is sweating profusely in his. I don’t know what’s happening, and the fact that he’s remaining secretive about tonight doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.
The dimly lit hallway does, in fact, lead to a room. It’s a ballroom of sorts, but what hits me with confusion then horror is the four-poster bed front and center. Everyone surrounds it, and my grip tightens on Baz’s arm, a sick feeling brewing in my gut.
“What the fuck is this?” I hiss, as he stops near the foot of the bed.
“Just watch.”
And I do. A couple seems to appear from thin air, and she strips off her gorgeous red dress while the crowd watches, not an ounce of shame in her body. I watch with rapt fascination and horror as the couple gropes and caresses in front of the crowd. I expect it to get raunchy and turn into a porn show where the members in the crowd start touching themselves or their dates, but much to my surprise, they just stand back and watch, completely transfixed.
When he said show, I get it now. It’s not just sex. The way the couple moves together is a synchronized dance, practiced to perfection. It’s beautiful and titillating. It’s not meant to make you jump the person’s bones next to you; it’s just meant for you to visually enjoy.
When the man takes her nipple into his mouth and his hand strokes between her legs, my breath hitches. Something warm curls down my spine and swirls in my belly. Baz steps closer into me. There are warring emotions raging inside me. I want to be offended and grossed out by what I’m watching—a couple having sex before me—but I’m not. If anything, it’s quite the opposite. When the man slides inside her from behind, her spine arched beautifully, her head tossed back, I gasp as my core throbs almost painfully.
I shake my head and try to turn away from the show, but Baz keeps me held in place. He bends near my ear.
“What’s the matter, Dirty Girl?”
“I don’t like this.”
“I think you do,” he whispers. The man picks up his tempo, and the woman’s moans get louder. Slowly, couples begin to break off around us. Some stick around for the entirety of the show, but I do everything I can to get away. I feel like I’m on the verge of combustion, and I hate myself for it.
“You said you wanted to win your freedom back? That you want things to go back to normal. This is the normal, Mackenzie,” he breathes out in my ear, a dark edge to his tone.
I fight back tears and try not to glance around and gawk at what’s happening around me. This isn’t him. The fact that I’ve driven him to this…it breaks something inside me. Something fundamental in us.
Our relationship was built on lies. It crumbled because of the lies. And now, he’s giving me a chance to change all of that. Whether I like it or not. But how far am I willing to go for that freedom? That is a question I am too afraid to answer, even in the security of my head.
I hightail it out of the room, pushing through fellow spectators who are standing around, still watching. With my heart pounding violently in my chest, I head straight for the exit, but Baz grips me by the waist and whirls me down a darkened hall, cornering me in an empty section of the mansion.
“Is this what you like? Some sick sex club bullshit?”
“I don’t particularly enjoy it. This is what the rich and elite do, and it’d be rude to turn down an invitation.”
“He said ‘back so soon,’ so you obviously have a regular room here. What does that mean?” My chest is heaving as I ask. My stomach is churning in an unsettled motion. I don’t want to imagine him having sex with any of the women here. I can’t compete with that.
“I can show you.”
He stares down at me, waiting for me to make up my mind. He sees it in my face before I even have to voice it. Taking my hand in his, he leads the way down the dimly lit hall that is so silent, each of our footsteps echoes around us ominously. He opens a heavy looking ornately carved wooden door at the end of the hall. The room is huge. Another four-poster bed is here, accompanied by an incredible view of the mansion’s sprawling grounds.
“So, you stay here and do what?” There’s a tremble in my voice as I ask. I’m tentative as I walk around the room, taking everything in. There’s a chair in the corner, facing the bed, and when Baz takes a seat there and leans back, appraising me, the hairs at my nape stand at attention. Realization settles in.
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m not fucking your friends. If that’s what you think.”
My chest squeezes. He said he’d never do that to me. My, how times have changed.
Baz chuckles. The sound is like gravel. Deep and raspy. “No one is going to touch you, Mackenzie.”
I frown. “Oh.”
I try to hold on to my anger and keep the pain out of my voice, but it shows through anyway. “What do you come here for then?”
He sits there watching me, likely gauging what my reaction will be to this news. After a beat, he shrugs, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.