The Scoundrel's Lover by Jess Michaels Page A

make anyone forgive him anything if he used it to his advantage. She lifted a hand to cover her lips, afraid she would call out to him if only to see him put those clear eyes turned on her for a moment.
    But her joy faded as he lifted a tumbler of scotch at his side and made a salute to the others before he downed it in one swig.
    With a sigh, she turned away. Marcus stared at her a moment, then quietly slid the spying mechanism closed. They were silent in the dark for a while as she gathered herself. Then she turned toward his shape in the darkness.
    “Do you have these spying holes to ensure your patrons are not cheating?” she asked.
    She heard his low chuckle, and even though she couldn’t see his handsome face, the dark sound hit her in the gut and then wound lower, lower, until her sex began to tingle. She scowled.
    “Am I amusing?”
    He stopped laughing, but there was still the sound of a smile in his voice as he said, “No, not at all. But I’m not certain you want to know the answer to your question.”
    “I would not have asked it if I didn’t,” she said, peevish in the face of his teasing.
    He hesitated. “Very well. No, my dear, not to prevent cheating. We let our patrons work out those details, and most are quite honest when it comes to their cards.”
    “Then why?” she asked, trying to think of some reason beyond her suggestion.
    He caught her hand and drew her to the next peephole in the hall. When he slid it open, she leaned forward and her eyes went wide.
    In this chamber, she could see a large bed against the opposite wall, and on it were the tangled bodies of a man and woman. They were both completely naked and the man was lying between the woman’s legs, licking her most private of areas with great gusto. She arched with every slurping lick, crying out in pure ecstasy.
    Annabelle spun away, and Marcus closed the little door. She leaned against the opposite wall, wishing she could read his expression in the dark.
    “There are some who get a thrill out of watching others,” he explained. “And being watched.”
    “You mean they know there may be people in the hallway observing them?” she asked, utterly shocked at the notion.
    He nodded. “There are many private rooms in the club which do not have these devices, so those who come to these rooms are well aware they may be watched.”
    “Why not just do their business in the main hall?” she asked, her mind bombarding her with so many sensual images that she could hardly think straight.
    “There is something more erotic about being ‘caught’ rather than being blatant.”
    She covered her hot face with her hands, trying to control her breathing and failing miserably at the act.
    “I think, Miss Flynn, that you very much like watching,” he said.
    She took a step away in shock. “How dare you?” she whispered.
    He reached out, and his fingers dragged her hand down slowly. “How dare I? I have watched you observe those in the main hall when you come through. And I heard your breath catch—not just in shock, but in desire—when I opened the window to this room. In fact, I think if I opened it again, you would not be able to help yourself but to look at what that couple will do next.”
    “You go too far,” she whispered, but she couldn’t put any heat into her words. She couldn’t even deny he was correct.
    “I know I do,” he said, his voice now rough. “But I cannot seem to help myself.”
    He slid the little window open a second time, and the light hit Annabelle’s face like a slap. She tried to turn away from it, to prove to Marcus that he was wrong about her. But the moans of the woman in the room had now turned to moans from both the participants and she found herself turning toward the scene, edging closer until she could see the couple again.
    They had shifted on the bed so that now the lady was straddling her lover’s face. While he continued to lick her, she leaned over him, sucking his member deep into her