on reality. You’re not the type to pick up a man in a bar and go for a quick fuck behind a closed bathroom door or in the back seat of a car in the parking lot no matter how horny you are. She again allowed her gaze to drift across his body. No matter how desirable he looks or how much he makes your pussy throb.
Mitch glanced around the bar, apparently checking to see if anyone else needed anything, then returned his attention to her. “Can I get you something to eat? Best hamburgers in town.”
“No, thanks. I had a late lunch a couple of hours ago.”
“Peanuts, pretzels, or popcorn?”
She couldn’t stop the laugh. “Do they pay you a bonus for getting rid of the stale bar snacks?”
His laugh joined hers. “Ah…if only it were so.” He winked. “But it’s an interesting thought. Maybe I should pass that on as a suggestion.”
His smile faded as he reached out and lightly touched her cheek, just a quick brushing of his fingertips against her skin but enough to pucker her nipples and dampen the crotch of her bikini bottoms beneath her jogging shorts. Her physical reaction to his touch both excited and shocked her.
If what she had heard was true, her main objective was to gain admittance to the top floor of the three-story building. The floor rumored to be a sex club that catered to high profile members, including industrialists, elected officials, and even religious leaders. Were these people illegally using funds that didn’t belong to them to indulge their personal pleasures and satisfy their sexual appetites? That was what she wanted to verify. That was the crux of her investigation, not that a sex club existed, but whether members were spending money that didn’t belong to them. Money entrusted to them for legitimate purposes. Members who were betraying that trust.
The liquor license listed it as a private club, all above board and legal. But she suspected more, that the truth could be uncovered with an in-depth investigation. By approaching the situation as a prospective club member—a prospective female applying for membership in a rumored sex club—Dani hoped to succeed where male reporters had failed.
The uncomfortable idea of how far she would have to go to gain access to the club had occupied her thoughts on more than one occasion, especially if the rumors about a sex club proved to be true. She would be willing to go topless if absolutely necessary, but totally naked? And having sex with a stranger…or worse yet, more than one stranger…in front of other strangers? That notion terrified her and brought into question how badly she really wanted this story. Bad enough to participate in an orgy?
She focused her thoughts. She had to get past her hang-ups and concerns, stop dwelling on what if , and concentrate on how best to dig out the truth. The first step in her quest for that truth included the ground floor Oasis Bar—a popular local hangout right on the beach catering to a wide spectrum of clientele. The second floor of the building housed the Ocean View Bistro, a first rate restaurant with an elegantly casual atmosphere serving excellent food, albeit a little pricey.
And then there was the mysterious door at the end of the bar with a small sign labeling it private . Could that indicate the entrance to the private club on the third floor? A private elevator not available to the public? No one had approached that door since her arrival. Perhaps Third Floor didn’t open its doors until after dark.
The possibility also existed that the door only led to an office with the word private meant to tell customers the door did not lead to restrooms. But she didn’t think so.
The entire building with an attached three-story parking structure on one side, plus a building next door on the other side that appeared to be apartments, belonged to an individual rather than a corporation—a man named Leander Washington. She had also discovered that there wasn’t a mortgage on any of the
Mitch glanced around the bar, apparently checking to see if anyone else needed anything, then returned his attention to her. “Can I get you something to eat? Best hamburgers in town.”
“No, thanks. I had a late lunch a couple of hours ago.”
“Peanuts, pretzels, or popcorn?”
She couldn’t stop the laugh. “Do they pay you a bonus for getting rid of the stale bar snacks?”
His laugh joined hers. “Ah…if only it were so.” He winked. “But it’s an interesting thought. Maybe I should pass that on as a suggestion.”
His smile faded as he reached out and lightly touched her cheek, just a quick brushing of his fingertips against her skin but enough to pucker her nipples and dampen the crotch of her bikini bottoms beneath her jogging shorts. Her physical reaction to his touch both excited and shocked her.
If what she had heard was true, her main objective was to gain admittance to the top floor of the three-story building. The floor rumored to be a sex club that catered to high profile members, including industrialists, elected officials, and even religious leaders. Were these people illegally using funds that didn’t belong to them to indulge their personal pleasures and satisfy their sexual appetites? That was what she wanted to verify. That was the crux of her investigation, not that a sex club existed, but whether members were spending money that didn’t belong to them. Money entrusted to them for legitimate purposes. Members who were betraying that trust.
The liquor license listed it as a private club, all above board and legal. But she suspected more, that the truth could be uncovered with an in-depth investigation. By approaching the situation as a prospective club member—a prospective female applying for membership in a rumored sex club—Dani hoped to succeed where male reporters had failed.
The uncomfortable idea of how far she would have to go to gain access to the club had occupied her thoughts on more than one occasion, especially if the rumors about a sex club proved to be true. She would be willing to go topless if absolutely necessary, but totally naked? And having sex with a stranger…or worse yet, more than one stranger…in front of other strangers? That notion terrified her and brought into question how badly she really wanted this story. Bad enough to participate in an orgy?
She focused her thoughts. She had to get past her hang-ups and concerns, stop dwelling on what if , and concentrate on how best to dig out the truth. The first step in her quest for that truth included the ground floor Oasis Bar—a popular local hangout right on the beach catering to a wide spectrum of clientele. The second floor of the building housed the Ocean View Bistro, a first rate restaurant with an elegantly casual atmosphere serving excellent food, albeit a little pricey.
And then there was the mysterious door at the end of the bar with a small sign labeling it private . Could that indicate the entrance to the private club on the third floor? A private elevator not available to the public? No one had approached that door since her arrival. Perhaps Third Floor didn’t open its doors until after dark.
The possibility also existed that the door only led to an office with the word private meant to tell customers the door did not lead to restrooms. But she didn’t think so.
The entire building with an attached three-story parking structure on one side, plus a building next door on the other side that appeared to be apartments, belonged to an individual rather than a corporation—a man named Leander Washington. She had also discovered that there wasn’t a mortgage on any of the
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