Chapter 13

ANYA

“Are you on the menu tonight?” the sleazy man with a bright-toothed grin on his round face queries as I stroll past him, carrying a tray of champagne for these lavish people.

I stop in my tracks, battling with my thoughts between wanting to spin and slap him or doing what is in my contract.

~No slapping~, I remind myself. ~Vanessa would kill me.~

But she can have this job; this place is not good for me—not if I want to keep my thoughts clean. If she knew how fucked up I feel every time I see one of the show couples performing their erotic art, she never would have asked me to work here.

Half the time, I imagine what it would be like to be taken in those ways, while the other half, I imagine what it would be like to be taken in front of an audience. But all the time, the person I imagine taking me is Dimitri.

How can I be expected to forget a sex god when I am surrounded by sex?

This place is my hell, I decide. However, while I am more suited to be a member here than a worker, my rent troubles are real, and the money I am making is no joke. So, I need to suck it up and get to work.

After exhaling a sigh, I paste a fake slutty smile on my lips, turn around, and saunter back toward the sleazy man, swinging my hips in the skimpy lingerie I am wearing.

I place the tray on a table and take a seat on the armrest of his plush chair. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” I coo, giggling and flicking my hair to the other side. “Lucky for you, I have something even better.”

Sleaze sits up straight in the chair and grabs his crotch. “And what’s that, sugar?”

Reaching under my lingerie, I pull tonight’s menu out from my tight cleavage, which is accentuated by the netty costume. I hand it to him and grin. “Check out our Room 23 menu. It has some really good shit.” I throw him a suggestive wink and then rise.

“Mean woman,” Sleaze mutters, standing up to block my way. A trickle of fear fills me when he steps toward me with his cheeks turning pink and his eyes bugging out. “Fuck, you’re pretty.” He raises a hand to touch me, but a deep and threatening voice arrests us both.

“Don’t you dare lay a finger on her.”

My breath hitches as I recognize Dimitri’s voice, my gaze lifting to the mirrored wall opposite where I stand. When I catch his stormy glare, I stop breathing entirely.

He is here, right behind me, still dressed in his classroom attire, but he looks more relaxed. His hair is shabby from being combed through often, and the top few buttons of his shirt are undone, putting his chest tattoos on display.

~Oh, fuck. Why does he look so fucking sexy? Wait, why is he here? Is he a member? Has he been fucking other women this whole time while I have been stuck on our one night together?~

The questions come faster than I can register, and I am too stunned to move. I can’t look away from his glowering reflection as he enters my personal space, pressing his hard chest to my back.

“Dimitri!” Sleaze says, unable to retreat because the chair is behind him. “Long time, man.” He smiles wide, maybe too wide.

Dimitri’s expression is humorless, devoid of the same joy, as he stares the man down. His jaw is set, and his heart races against my back in the erotically charged atmosphere of the club. “Did you touch her?” His words carry a deadly tone, and heads turn to watch the new scene.

Sleaze stumbles against the chair, pushing it to take a step back. “Excuse me?”

“I asked, ‘Did you touch her?’” Dimitri repeats, even more threateningly now.

More eyes glance our way, causing the anxiety pressed in my chest to build up.

“Sh-she’s a serving girl,” Sleaze says, raising his hands slightly. “We aren’t allowed to touch them.”

Dimitri glares at the man, his brows pinching together. He seems to be in thought before his expression relaxes, and then one of his hands wraps around my waist. “Good,” he rasps, right over my head. “She’s mine.”

My heart flutters from his unabashed declaration, which leaves me speechless. His hand on my waist slides to my stomach, where a gap in the salacious outfit allows him to press his rough skin over my churning belly.

The touch of his hand immediately makes my toes curl, and my pussy recalls with a zap the orgasm his body brewed that night. It starts to crave that touch again.

I am so shameless. ~Where the hell does my feminism go around this man?~

Sleaze’s head jerks back. “What?” His brows rise.

“She’s mine,” Dimitri repeats, tightening his hold.

Just like Sleaze, I am agape. Oh god! Is he really calling me his?

“Woah, woah, woah!” Sleaze shakes his head in disbelief, his hands in front of him. “Relax, man. You haven’t been here in ages. I meant no harm.”

Dimitri uncurls his arm from around my waist and drags his hand down my arm, entwining his fingers with mine in his strong grasp.

Warmth flickers through my fingertips, twisting my nerve endings to send a euphoric rush to my brain. I have lost my voice and any power to react, willing to let him drag me away without protest.

The truth is, I am too obsessed not to follow.

“None of your concern,” Dimitri says. “And to everyone here”—his voice rises as he turns his head to catch the eyes of the other members in the room—“if I happen to see anyone as much as staring at her ass, I’ll have your membership revoked.”

Murmurs among the guests fill the space before Dimitri drags me with him, leaving my mind scrambling to piece together what is happening. We pass room after room until we reach a corridor illuminated by fluorescent lights. At its end, Dimitri opens a door.

The space inside is dim with red everywhere. A king-sized bed sits at the center, where the red continues: red silk sheets, red pillow sets, and a red cushioned headboard. The walls are bare except for the one opposite me, which makes me scream internally.

Hanging on it, on full display, are various objects of torture.

No, they are objects for sex play, I realize when my eyes focus. Neatly arranged, there are flogs and whips and—~are those butt plugs?~

My fingers turn sweaty in Dimitri’s grasp as I take in each tool, every one tantalizing me with the possibilities of sexual awakening it holds. The throbbing of my clit intensifies, and my panties become slick from my excitement.

I rip my hand out of Dimitri’s when the feeling startles me. “What the hell?” I yell, raising my voice so high that I don’t recognize it.

He puts his hands on his hips, a glowering look on his face. But after a moment, his expression changes, softens, and he saunters toward me, backing me to the door and dwarfing me with his height. “That mask,” he says, his chest muscles rippling.

My ass hits the door behind me, and I splay my hands on its cold wood as he steps closer.

“It’s nice,” Dimitri continues, bringing a finger up to graze the edge of my mask. He bends to align his face with mine. “But I’d recognize you even if you were buried beneath a thousand masks.”

Chills run up and then down my spine, most of them settling between my legs. Before I can scold myself for getting turned on, Dimitri stands straight, takes a half step back, and sets his jaw.

“Take it off, Miss Renée.” His tone is distinctly unamused.

I swallow and take the mask off, letting it drop to the floor as Dimitri scans my face, his brows still knit in that disapproving scowl. “Mr. Rossi, I—”

“That’s not my name for you.” His words are sharp. “What’s my name, Anya?” A muscle in his jaw ticks viciously.

Since he doesn’t seem to be in the mood for my brattiness, I hold it in check. “Dimitri,” I answer.

He pinches my chin between his fingers, his eyes cold on me. “Remember that. Now, what the hell are you doing here?”

~Didn’t you see me out there?~ “I work here.” ~What else would I be doing?~

“For how long?”

~Me? How long have you been a member here? ~“For more than a week now.” My answer does nothing to erase the tension on his face.

If anything, he seems to be more tense now. He moves backward a step, running his thick fingers through his hair. As he does this, his rings catch the light of the golden-lit ceiling. “Fuck, Anya! Why?”

I raise a shoulder as I cross my arms, trying to keep my cool and not show him how distracted my body is right now to be inside this chamber. “Because I’m struggling to live a good life, to pay my bills—my rent. This place pays well.”

Dimitri drops his hands from his hair and speaks through his teeth. “Anya, this is a sex club. You can’t put this shit on your résumé.”

“It’s not for my résumé.” I plan to explain more but then remember how he basically called our night a mistake. My cool flies away, replaced by icy anger. “Why the hell am I even explaining this to you? You fucked me, you regret it, and now you don’t care anymore.”

“Stop being a brat, Anya.”

I scoff and uncross my arms. “What are you gonna do?” ~I don’t need to listen to this. ~“Just leave me alone, Dimitri. You’re narcissistic and toxic.”

Spinning to face the door, I turn the knob and push, but Dimitri closes his hand around mine and stops me. His grip is so strong that no matter how much I try, my hand doesn’t budge beneath his.

Our skin contact once again sets off fireworks within me, but I force myself to focus on my anger. Fortunately, his words help me do that.

“You can’t work here, Anya,” he growls. “I won’t allow it.”

“You won’t allow it? Why would I even need your permission?” A laugh bursts through my lips, making him draw his eyebrows together. “God! You’re just like Blake. Just as controlling. Hashtag: we aren’t in a relationship.”

I try to twist the knob again, but he puts his other arm around me, trapping me between them. His sudden proximity unnerves me, causing my body to shiver as I calculate how close he is to touching.

My professor. My ex’s dad. My fucking torment.

His head bends low as he whispers over my cheek, “It’s not about control. This place is filled with filths who won’t hesitate to bend you over the nearest table.”

“I…I…can protect myself,” I stammer through a series of nervous exhales.

“No, you can’t. You have to leave.”

Irritation twists my lips. I spin around, shoving him so hard that he stumbles a few steps back. My frustration mirrors his countenance as we lock eyes in a silent challenge, neither willing to back down.

“Fuck off!” I curse.

“Anya…”

“You’re just a coward!” I push him again, taking us deeper into the room. “Got scared easily, didn’t you? Screw you, and screw your fucking son!”

“Anya…”

I pant when I see he is a few steps away from me now. A good distance separates us, giving me enough reprieve to control my hormones that want to jump his bones. “Don’t stop me unless you are willing to admit that one night wasn’t enough. Because it wasn’t for me!”

Emotions flash across his features before settling into a blank expression as he gazes at me. “Anya,” he says, his voice deeper than before. “Kneel.”

Not expecting that, I can only blink. “What?”

Dimitri steps to the side, a smirk playing on his hard features as he circles me. “This is what you want, isn’t it? A repeat of that night? You don’t want to work here. You want to explore what this place has to offer.”

My heart thunders when he stops and I see that the door is now behind him. I have no escape, so when he walks toward me, I can only retreat to the bed, where I stop when the backs of my knees hit it.

His eyes sparkle. “Ask me how I know that.”

“How?” I ask, breathless and confused.

His smirk broadens, and he reaches a hand to my neck, his fingertips grazing my spine. His thumb brushes my cheek as he murmurs, “Because, baby.” He bends low as if he is telling me a secret. “I know every atom that makes you. Call it an obsession, but I know what gets you off.”

His gaze turns dark, lust flickering in his pupils when he takes in my appearance like I dressed solely for him. “You’re a good slut, aren’t you? Then kneel before Daddy, and let him grant your wishes.”

The throbbing between my legs grows unbearable, and the moistness makes the lingerie stick to my pussy, causing me to squirm. “You will grant all my wishes?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“And where will that put us?”

As if in thought, he purses his lips before cocking his head. “You wanna be my dirty little secret, Miss Renée?”

I swallow hard at his question, my pulse racing. I nod, then say, “But just sex. I’m not ready for a serious relationship. I like you, but I just want your body.”

Dimitri bends to my eye level, his irises still dark. “Then let bodies do what lips do. You be my secret, I’ll be yours. Is that fine with you?”

My world goes topsy-turvy as I respond, “Yes.”

He smiles. “Tonight, I’m your genie, baby girl. All you have to do is kneel.”

My eagerness to accept his offer consumes my thoughts with nothing but slutty obedience, and my legs collapse beneath me. I am on my knees before I know it, his groin at eye level. When my gaze touches it, the thick bulge underneath his pants blooms.

Dimitri puts his hand on the crown of my head, tilting it back so I can meet his eyes. His thumb brushes over my lips, dragging my bottom lip down before letting go with a ~smack~. “I’m going to fuck this mouth now. Then, I’ll fuck you. Is that okay?”

I am completely lost in lust as I answer submissively, “Yes. ~Sir~.”

Whatever happens now, I know I have opened Pandora’s box. I am his fucking Alice. He is my rabbit hole.