As she leaned into him, Tag slid his hands beneath the hem of her shirt, caressing the smooth skin he found there. Sweeping her silky hair out of the way, Tag tilted his head down and gently sucked on her neck until she was pressing against him. He wondered if she even realized she was doing it. In fact, she seemed so focused on the scene in front of her, he wondered whether she knew he was even touching her.

When she turned in his arms and pulled his head down to hers, crushing her mouth to his, he got his answer. She apparently liked it.

Kissing her back was the hardest thing he’d done in a long time because he was trying to keep himself under control. With several people hanging around, their eyes just as easily roaming the two of them as much as the trio in the room, he wanted to ensure McKenna knew exactly what she was doing.

When she pulled back and those exotic eyes locked with his, he held his breath. He didn’t care what she said next, as long as the result was going to be him buried inside of her in the very near future.

“You were going to show me that room, weren’t you?”

It was his turn to be speechless as he nodded his head and took her hand, damn near dragging her back to the stairs. He managed to slow down as they ascended, but how he wasn’t sure. He just needed to put his hands on her. All over her. Everywhere.

He wanted to drown out all of the chaos in his brain and the only way he found that was possible was to lose himself in McKenna. Ever since that very first kiss in his car, Tag noticed that the noise in his head quieted when he touched her. The only thing he couldn’t seem to get past was the place.

The club didn’t bother him, in fact, he had frequented it on many occasions, reaping its full benefits, but with McKenna, it just felt different. For the first time in his life, he questioned whether or not he wanted strangers witnessing the ecstasy he managed to find in McKenna’s arms. Maybe it was the vulnerability he felt when she unraveled him with just her eyes, or the barest of touches.

As they approached the second floor, Tag realized it was too late to think about it now. The only option he had was to continue until one or both of them firmly decided otherwise.

Approaching the security guard, Tag typed his code into a small, portable keypad the man held out in front of him. The guard glanced down at the small screen before turning it back for Tag to see. On the screen were three red numbers that corresponded to the room they’d been assigned. Nodding his head, he walked as slow as his long legs would allow with McKenna in tow.

Once at the room, he had to scan his club key in order for the doors to open. Tag pushed open the heavy glass panel door, then stood back and allowed McKenna to precede him into the room. The door closed behind them with a whoosh, the lock clicking loudly in the small space.

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“The McCoy’s spared no expense did they?” McKenna asked as she began moving about the small space.

“They’re concerned about safety,” he told her. “Can you blame them?”

McKenna smiled back at him, and he once again was lost in her beauty. Good God he was turning into a fucking sap.

“After seeing that floor,” McKenna nodded her chin upward, “I can’t say that I do.”

Tag couldn’t agree more. He had never been fond of the third floor, but that’s because his own kinks leaned more toward bondage, the occasional spanking, and being watched. He didn’t even get a great thrill out of watching.

Tag stood back, allowing McKenna to look around the small, ten by ten room. There wasn’t much to see really. The back wall was made of exposed brick while the other three, including the only door, were made of glass. Still to this day, Tag had no clue how Mistress Serena managed to keep all of the glass so clean and clear, but somehow she did.

He knew the rooms were sterilized after each person left, and for sanitary purposes, they used only a fitted white sheet on the small mattress in the room. That’s also why the room wreaked of bleach and disinfectant. The floor was tiled with white marble, and the only other piece of furniture was a small bedside table with a single drawer in it.

McKenna pulled open the drawer while Tag watched, and he knew what she would find. Condoms. That’s all. And there weren’t that many because again, Mistress Serena was concerned with safety, so she had them restocked after every use to ensure they hadn’t been tampered with, which Tag explained to McKenna as she eyed them.

“It’s definitely not an upscale hotel room,” McKenna smiled.

“That it’s not,” he agreed.

“Do you do this often?”

Her question shouldn’t have surprised him, but he suddenly wasn’t sure he wanted to answer her. Why, he didn’t know. “Not as often as you think,” he finally replied.




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