A Sinful Little Christmas. J. Critch Margot

on her lips. As seriously as she took her job and the club, she couldn’t help but have fun bantering with Michael.

      “Oh, I’ll watch it,” he said, making no secret of the fact he was looking at her ass. The fire that had burned between them the day before still lingered, despite their truce. She rolled her eyes, and pointed to the door. “Come on,” she instructed, walking in front of him, making sure to put a little extra swivel in her gait as she walked away.

      “This is the main playroom,” Alana told him as she led him down a wide staircase. So far, she’d shown him the bar, the private rooms. The Brotherhood ran a tight, clean operation, but he wouldn’t be able to get a feel of the place until it opened later that evening. Then he could see how Di Terrestres really operated with a packed house.

      Michael was relieved that while a lot of the sexual tension had remained from the night before, at least most of the animosity seemed to have evaporated. They’d reached an uneasy truce, but he knew that the fire between them remained, that it would continue to burn whether they wanted it to or not. Hopefully, he could manage not to get burned.

      He looked around at the plush benches and couches that lined the walls, several platforms, and tables that were bolted to the floor. Despite the bare furnishings, the large room still managed to feel intimate, classy, even with the lights up. “This place looks great.”

      “Want to see the dungeon?” she asked. Michael ran the words over and over through his head, trying to determine if there was a hint of innuendo in her voice. “It wasn’t a trick question,” she added when he didn’t respond.

      “Yeah, let’s see it.”

      She pushed open the wooden door, and escorted him into the dungeon. With the lights up, he knew it looked different than it would when the club was open and the room in operation. Several Saint Andrew’s crosses and different types of racks were scattered strategically throughout the room, while restraints, whips and other implements adorned the walls. Several cleaners diligently cleaned and sanitized without even looking up at them.

      Michael took it all in, and he barely heard Alana beside him, still speaking. He didn’t normally frequent the dungeon scene but he couldn’t stop thinking about taking Alana in there sometime, showing her how he also liked to be in control. He tried to mentally shake himself free of the image of Alana naked that had plagued him since the night before. This was supposed to be his new start. It was too important for him to screw up by lusting over his new boss. He had to get out of the dungeon, out of the playroom. He needed some air. “If there’s nothing else to see down here, why don’t we head back upstairs?” he suggested. “We can talk in my new office.”

      Alana nodded, and Michael wondered if he was imagining the longing way she looked around at the sexual apparatuses around them. He knew he had some sort of effect on Alana, but he wasn’t sure just how far it went.

      She preceded him up the stairs to the main floor of the club. His gaze dropped to her ass. The skirt of her emerald green wrap dress swayed with her hips; the swishing of the soft-looking material made him want to reach out to touch her. But with the way the tension crackled between them, he knew it would either lead to her smacking him, or him pinning her against the wall. Both options would be equally disastrous. Because he knew if he touched or kissed Alana, he would never want to stop.

      “Have you seen your new office yet?” she asked, looking back to him as they crested the top of the stairs.

      “I haven’t.”

      She grimaced. “It might be a little unorganized. We’ve been using it as an extra storage room. We’ve been without a general manager for a few months.”

      “Who’s been doing the job since then?”

      “Me.”

      “I see.” Michael knew the work that went into running a club. For one person, it could be the equivalent of two full-time jobs. “That must have been a lot of work for you.”

      “Yeah.” She pulled a plastic key fob from her purse and hovered it over a sensor, and Michael heard the click of the door unlocking. They walked into the room, and the motion sensor lights turned on. He looked around at the cluttered office. It was a nice size, but one wouldn’t know that based on the boxes, bags, old furniture scattered throughout. It was a far cry from the outward appearance of the public areas of the club, which were kept in immaculate condition.

      “It’s a bit of mess, I know, but we’ll get some people in to clean it ASAP. Your arrival was a bit of a surprise to me.”