Chapter 4

Amy

Tall and broad-shouldered, he looks effortlessly put together even in a place like this. The black button-down he’s wearing stretches across his chest, the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal his strong, defined forearms.

Dark slacks fit snugly against his hips, and his sharp jawline is dusted with stubble. But it’s his eyes—those dark, piercing eyes—that lock onto me, holding me in place.

His brows furrow, his expression somewhere between concerned and suspicious. "What the hell are you doing here?"

My throat goes dry. "Kenny, please," I whisper, clutching at his arm. "You have to help me. Dan can’t know I was here."

Kenny exhales sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. "Jesus Christ." He takes another glance around, his expression tightening. "You picked one hell of a place to be caught, princess."

Before I can reply, he grabs my wrist and starts leading me down the hall.

I stumble, my heels clicking against the sleek floors as I try to keep up. "Kenny! Where are we headed?"

"Somewhere Dan won't find you," he mutters, pulling me deeper into the back hallways of the club.

As we walk the atmosphere shifts. The lighting dims, casting deep, flickering shadows all around. The muffled sounds of the club fade away, replaced by something entirely different.

Low moans. Whispered filth. The unmistakable sound of skin meeting skin.

The lights are low, and the walls are lined with doors glowing softly in red and blue, some slightly ajar, hinting at the mysteries within. Rooms pulse with life, shadows dancing behind sheer curtains, half-hidden figures lost in their own world of pleasure.

As we pass one, I catch a glimpse of a couple, their bodies entwined on a chaise, completely absorbed in their moment, oblivious to the world beyond their pleasure.

My cheeks heat, my steps faltering. "Shit," I murmur under my breath.

I swallow hard, forcing myself to look straight ahead. Kenny seems unfazed; I guess he’s been here before. I barely have time to process that thought before another familiar face comes into view.

Lestat.

Dan’s other best friend.

Leaning casually against the wall.

He looks like he belongs here—commanding, comfortable. He wears a navy dress shirt, the top few buttons undone, revealing a hint of a toned chest. His brown hair is perfectly tousled, his dark eyes sharp and unreadable.

The woman standing next to him is stunning, her red-painted nails trailing lazily over his forearm as he speaks to her in a smooth, low voice.

But the second he spots me, the amusement in his eyes vanishes.

“What the—?” Lestat straightens, his gaze darting between me and Kenny. "What the hell is going on?"

Kenny doesn’t answer. Instead, he yanks open the nearest door, and before I can even protest, he gives me a gentle push inside, his broad frame blocking the entrance.

Lestat follows us in, his confusion shifting to something deeper as he takes in the scene around us. The door clicks shut behind us, muffling the sounds from the hallway.

The room is drenched in a soft, flickering light that casts deep shadows over its daring décor. A large bed dominates one wall, its black satin sheets and wedge pillows arranged with intention.

The air is thick with a heady mix—anticipation, temptation, and a lingering hint of perfume and leather.

The walls are adorned with restraints—neatly coiled ropes, leather cuffs, and shiny handcuffs—all displayed like pieces of art. Sensory toys fill the space, some soft and inviting, while others promise a sharper thrill.

Feathers, blindfolds, and delicate teasers rest on a sleek black table, and in the corner, a sturdy-looking chair stands, its built-in restraints leaving little to the imagination.

I swallow hard. This just got a whole lot more complicated.

"Alright," Kenny exhales, crossing his arms as he locks eyes with me, his dark gaze sharp and unwavering. "Start talking."

I take a deep breath, already dreading this conversation. No matter what I say, it’s bound to get back to Dan. "Blair brought me here for my birthday—to have a little fun. What are you guys doing here?"

Kenny raises an eyebrow. "We're adults doing adult things. Places like this aren’t really meant for kids like you."

I roll my eyes. "Hello? Birthday? I’m twenty-one. Legally and most definitely an adult." I settle myself on the edge of the bed, crossing my arms.

Lestat snorts. "Yeah, but you’re still Dan’s little sister."

"Younger," I correct.

Lestat blinks. "What?"

"Younger sister. You guys are only four years older than me." I shoot them both a pointed look, my glare sharpening.

"Yeah, and that argument’s going to hold up real well if Dan finds you here," Kenny mutters, rubbing his temple. "Jake isn’t here too, is he?"

I stiffen slightly before shaking my head. "We broke up."

Kenny’s expression darkens. "He dumped you?"

"I dumped him," I correct, my voice clipped, not wanting to dig into the details.

Lestat frowns. "Why? You were totally into that guy."

The words get stuck in my throat. "He... I..." The humiliation rushes back, sharp and stinging. I drop my gaze to my lap, my fingers curling into the sheets.

"Hey," Kenny’s voice softens. He reaches forward, tilting my chin up with his fingers, forcing me to meet his gaze. "What happened?"

I swallow hard. "I caught him with another girl."

A heavy silence hangs between us until Lestat breaks it with a low curse. "That cheating bastard. I knew it. Dan had him figured out."

"Yeah, well, I know that now," I snap, blinking back the sting of tears.

Kenny studies me, his expression unreadable. "I’m guessing this wasn’t just a birthday adventure, was it?"

I hesitate, then shake my head. "No."

I hate this. Hate the way I feel exposed under their scrutiny. "Can you please not tell Dan?"

Lestat barks out a laugh. "What? No way. We’re going to beat the shit out of that fucker."

"It’s none of his damn business." My voice is firmer now, but the pout in my tone betrays my frustration.

"Lestat, stop," Kenny cuts in, his voice steady, but there's something deeper there now. Something quieter, darker. His gaze sweeps over me, slow and assessing, lingering just a moment too long before locking onto mine. "So, your boyfriend cheats on you, and your first instinct is to come to a sex club for revenge? Do you even know what goes on here? What kind of guys come here?"

I glance around again, but this time, I see it differently. The neatly coiled ropes, the gleaming cuffs hanging like ornaments, the toys that range from delicate silk to unforgiving leather—all of it.

And the men standing in front of me—they aren’t just Dan’s best friends anymore.

Not in here. Not with the way Kenny’s fingers flex at his sides, or the way Lestat leans in just slightly, his smirk no longer just amused, but interested.

Heat licks up my spine at the realization, my pulse skipping. A wicked idea starts forming in my head.

I try to keep my voice steady. "Yeah, I know now. But it's what you guys are looking for. Why you're hear. Is it so weird that it's what I want to—" I exhale sharply, letting frustration and adrenaline blend into something bolder.

“You have no idea what you really want,” Kenny says.

"I wanted to get a little revenge sex and let loose. And you know what? I’m not leaving until I get it." My heart pounds, but I push forward, tipping my chin up in challenge. “You’re going to tell Dan everything anyway, right? So, I might as well have fun.”

Lestat lets out a chuckle, his gaze dragging down my body.. "Wow. Now we’re really not going to let you out of here with that attitude."

His tone is teasing, but there’s an undercurrent that makes my stomach tighten.

"And dressed like that?" He tilts his head, the lazy smirk still playing at his lips. "I don't remember you ever being this much trouble."

The air between us shifts. My skin tingles, my heartbeat hammering as my gaze flicks between them.

I was supposed to find a stranger tonight—someone to lose myself in, to erase the memory of Jake with a night of reckless, mind-blowing sex. But suddenly, another idea sparks to life, wicked and tempting.

Why not Kenny and Lestat?

They were here, in this club, looking for the same thing I was. Why not with me?

It could be our little secret.

Blair’s voice echoes in my head: If you start something, make sure you want to finish it.

I tip my head, my lips curving into something playful, something daring. “I’m trouble,” I tease, “What are you going to do about it?”