Sweet Surrender (Elite Heirs of Manhattan Series Book 2) by Missy Walker

Author:Missy Walker [Walker, Missy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: www.authormissywalker.com
Published: 2024-08-15T00:00:00+00:00

“Very well, Miss Black. You’re all set.” The intimidatingly beautiful girl behind the reception desk finished processing my payment before collecting my purse and phone to lock away under the counter. “Have a lovely evening.”

I couldn’t believe it. I had paid a membership fee to revisit Club Caramel. Until now, I could tell myself it was only a casual, passing interest sort of thing. Once money changed hands, it was a different story.

It wasn’t like I couldn’t afford it, even if I never came back. Nobody behind the desk batted an eye at the fact I was wearing a mask as I had before. In fact, my anxiety lessened a little when I entered the main room and found a few guests also in disguise. It made sense. Party or no party, there was still a little bit of a stigma around this kind of business. Even though we were all there together and, therefore, just as open to scandal if we outed each other, we felt like we had to hide.

My hunch was right. It was a lot quieter this time, though a few dozen people were getting a start on the evening. Since it was still early, there wasn’t a lot of action going on. I knew once the liquor started flowing and inhibitions dropped away, it would be a different story.

I ordered a dirty martini at the bar, self-consciously adjusting the corset I wore over a pair of tight leather pants. Not a true corset, but it gave the right effect, pushing my boobs up until they were practically a shelf I could carry a drink on. The pants fit like a second skin, tucked into knee-high boots. It was very tame compared to the wild outfits and costumes worn by other members. Some people chose to change in the club’s locker rooms to avoid being seen in their club wear outside the premises.

Discretion was key.

I could appreciate that, especially since my nerves were jangling, even with vodka entering my system. What if he didn’t show up? That was possible, even probable. Still, there had to be part of me holding onto a shred of hope, or else I wouldn’t be here.

I sipped the martini, observing a demonstration of various punishment techniques going on at the far end of the dance floor. That was one thing I wouldn’t have expected—the amount of technique behind the sort of activities I’d always figured came naturally.

How many ways could a person be spanked? As it turned out, there was plenty I didn’t know. “You want to be careful not to strike up here,” the latex-clad instructor explained, hands against the lower back of his partner. “You don’t want to damage the kidneys.” I never would’ve thought of that. There was a lot more to this than I had imagined, and it had me paying closer attention to the demonstration as it went on.

Until…

The hair on the back of my neck lifted, and goose bumps raced across my skin. I didn’t have to look to know I was being watched and didn’t need proof of who was watching me.

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