“I’m not kidding you,” he replies dryly.

“But… but… why?” I look up, hoping he can see how confused I am and give me some clarity. “You don’t even like me.”

August averts his gaze. He casually glances around the room before meeting my eyes. With a sigh, he bends his head to put his face close to mine, almost as if he’s making an admission he’d rather not. “I very much like fucking you, and, honest to God, you all damp and smelling so good—straight from my bathtub—well… I decided to do something about it.”

I scan the club, briefly mesmerized by the sight of a woman on her knees, alternatively sucking on three different men’s dicks. I’m appalled.

But also turned on.


I’m not ready to accept any of this, though. “But you could have made a move at the house. Right there when I walked out of the bathroom in only a towel. I don’t understand why you brought me here.”

I’m stunned when, rather than answering me, August yanks me into his arms and spins me around toward the interior of the club. His body moves behind me, his arm sliding around my stomach to hold me tightly to him. I can feel the length of his erection pushing into my lower back, proving this atmosphere very much turns him on.

I feel his breath on the side of my face, his lips near my ear. “This is who I am now, Leighton. What you see… all this kinky fucking… this is me.”

I let out a shaky breath. This is what he likes?

His free hand goes to the hem of my dress, slowly snaking it upward. Cool air hits my thighs before his fingers slip into the front of my panties. “Yes, this is the man I am now. And I want you here, in this club, and I want to see the type of woman you are.”

August flutters the tip of his finger perilously close to my clit, but otherwise doesn’t touch me. Mind floating, my good sense seems to slip away. For some reason, I can’t seem to care I’m standing in front of these people with my dress hiked up and a man’s hand between my legs. On the contrary, I push my hips forward, hoping to force more contact.

I know he’s waiting for me to tell him what to do. To tell him to either fuck me right here in public or take me home.

Instead, I need my curiosity appeased. “This is where you come every night when you’re not at the hospital?”

August doesn’t answer at first. Instead, he pushes his entire hand into my panties, palming my sex. “No, I haven’t been here lately,” he replies before squeezing me. God, it feels good. I let my head fall onto his shoulder. “I’ve been going in to work to make up for the hours I’m spending at the hospital.”

I suck in a huge breath, the relief he’s not been coming here to be with other women rushing through my veins.

But he knocks the wind right out of my sails. “I do come here often, though. I spend a lot of my free time in this club. Once we get Sam home and settled, I expect I’ll resume those practices.”

“Oh,” I reply, not able to hide my crushing disappointment. Because how can I ever compete with the women here?

“What do you want to do, Leighton?” he murmurs against my ear, squeezing my pussy again. “Going to let me fuck you in this club? It’s okay to say ‘no’ if you want. I’ll take you home… just say the word.”

But if I say no, he’ll come right back here to get his rocks off. I know it, and he knows I know it. He doesn’t have to voice the reality for me to know it’s indeed a choice I have to make.

The internal debate warring within me doesn’t give a rat’s ass that this could be another “one time only” thing with August. I’m well aware we probably have no chance of a future together.

What I have to decide is if I am the type of woman who is able to accept the challenge of something new and decidedly wicked. Do I have it in me to let down my guard—to become completely uninhibited?

Do I trust August to protect me in here?

I answer him with nothing more than a touch.

A powerful touch, though. I reach back, cup him between his legs, and give his balls a resounding squeeze to mimic the way he’s touching me. I’m feeling brave when I whisper, “Do your worst, August.”

His laugh is dark and rich, almost mocking. A frisson of fear pulses through me, turning me on even more.

August removes his hand from between my legs to flag down a passing waitress. I look at the tray she’s carrying and realize it’s not for drinks, but rather has a wide array of objects that might be beneficial in a sex club. Condoms, lube, and small vibrators. Tiny little silver objects that look like they were made to clip onto something, along with a leather device that has a thin dildo attached to it.

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