Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“Well, I will leave you three to it.” Kent stood, and I joined him. He said his goodbyes and turned to me at the door. “Maybe you can show her the ins and outs yourself. Demonstrate some scenes for her.”
“Fuck off,” I grumbled.
With a waggle of his brows and a laugh, he left.
“Let’s get started, shall we?” When we stood outside the office, I turned to Hanna. “If at any point you want to stop or feel uncomfortable, just let me know, and we can head back here.”
I knew a little about Hanna’s past. I knew she was what spurred on Erik’s charity, but I didn’t know the details. While I didn’t want to alarm her, I also didn’t want to coddle her. I was sure she got enough of that from everyone else who knew.
“This is the bar where everyone can relax,” I said, gesturing to the open area in front of us. “It’s fully stocked, but there is a two-drink maximum to keep everyone safe.”
She looked around the room with wide eyes, and I tried to see what she saw. A dance floor with a DJ booth opposite the bar, backlit with warm lights. High-top tables in between and a seating area toward the back. We designed Voyeur to be a comfortable place to relax and enjoy yourself, no matter what you liked. The colors were warm browns, leathers, and wood.
“Along this back hall we just walked through, you saw a collection of iPads where you can make your selection for what you’d like to view for the night. The options are…abundant. When you check-in, you’ll be given a bracelet with a number, and you’ll enter that number when you choose, and it will vibrate when the room is ready.”
“Okay.”
Her eyes were still wide and tinged with nerves, but she’d pulled her shoulders back and stood tall. I admired her strength to push through any fear she may have. A woman with that kind of determination turned me on more than any pair of great tits could.
“It’s still early, so the lounge is quiet, but it never gets too rowdy.”
I directed her to the bar so she could get a better feel of the layout, and Carina followed like a silent sentinel, watching over Hanna.
“Is there…activity out here too?” Hanna asked, stuttering over her words.
“Sex?” I asked to clarify, and also to watch her cheeks flood with color.
An added bonus was to watch her determination show. She swallowed and cleared her throat, but held my eyes, even raising her chin like a regal queen. “Yes. Sex.”
My lips twitched along with my dick at hearing such a simple word slip from her lips. When she dropped her gaze, I reprimanded myself. This was a client. This was a young woman who had been through trauma, and here I was, hitting on her like some pervert. Shaking my head, I answered her.
“Things can become graphic out here, but we ask that the patrons keep it subtle. No overt sexual acts in the middle of the room or on tabletops. The allure of the lounge is to tease and excite you about what lays down the halls.”
She licked her lips, and her eyes flicked around, stopping when she looked over my shoulder at the seating area. “Like that?” she almost whispered.
“Oh, damn,” Carina muttered, fanning herself.
I scanned the leather club chairs and found a section circled around a low table. A woman sat on a man’s lap, her back to his chest, her legs on either side of his, with his hand under her skirt as the other gripped her breast over her shirt. Two more men sat—stroking their cocks over their pants—so they could watch the man’s fingers move in and out of her pussy. I knew if we sat there long enough, they’d have their dicks in their hands, jerking off to the woman’s pleasure.
“The seating area is where most of the public acts happen. It’s darker over there and can offer enough illusion of privacy while still exploring exhibitionism.
With a jerky nod, she turned to face the bar, asking for a water. I moved to stand next to her and gave her a moment to collect herself. Her small fists clenched and unclenched atop the bar, and a part of me I thought I’d killed off long ago, ached to soothe her. To ask her if she was okay or if there was anything I could do to make it better. My own fists clenched, holding back the urge to brush her hair back.
She almost emptied the entire glass of water before she glanced my way. “As long as it’s consensual.”
“Always.” When she looked over again, I held her stare so she could feel the sincerity of that promise. “If you ever feel uncomfortable, come to me or any of the staff. Each of the rooms we’ve walked past has a guard standing outside to make sure everyone is safe.”