Distraction (Club Destiny #8)(81)

Dylan chuckled. “Would you like something to drink?”

Sarah shook her head. “I’m good right now.”

“Let me introduce you to a couple of people.”

They maneuvered through the club, past the few people who were already there, most of them still clothed.

Luke McCoy turned, his eyes scanning the room, but Dylan noticed the second Luke recognized him. He headed right for them.

“Damn good to see you tonight,” Luke greeted when he approached.

“Thanks for allowing me in,” he joked as he shook Luke’s hand. “Luke McCoy, I’d like you to meet Sarah Davis. Sarah, Luke is one of the club’s owners.”

“Nice to meet you.” Sarah shook Luke’s hand.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Luke told her.

Sarah seemed surprised.

“My wife is close to Dylan’s sister. You’ve been a hot topic a time or two.”

Sarah blushed and Dylan slid his arm over her shoulder, pulling her into his side. “All good, I assure you.”

“Of course. But we’re still tryin’ to figure out what you see in this old, rusty cowboy.”

Dylan chuckled.

“He has his moments,” Sarah said sweetly.

“That he does.”

Trent chose that moment to walk up, quickly greeting him and Sarah. Once again, Sarah seemed nervous, which amused Dylan.

“You taking them on a tour?” Luke questioned, sipping his drink.

“That’s the plan.”

Luke turned back to Dylan. “Congrats, by the way. I heard you’re goin’ into business with this crazy fuck.”

Dylan laughed. “You heard right.”

“Good. He needs someone to keep him in line. Maybe his own club will keep him out of my hair.”

“Don’t count on it.” Trent smirked. “I live to interfere.”

“Ain’t that the damn truth.” Luke glanced down at Sarah. “It was great to meet you.”

“You, too.”

“I’ve gotta go find Cole before he gets in too much trouble.”

With that, Luke sauntered off, leaving the three of them standing there.

“You ready for this?” Trent directed his question at Sarah.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Her actions belied her words, so Dylan nudged Sarah forward, falling into step with Trent.

“The main floor is relatively tame,” Trent noted.

“Tame?” Sarah scoffed. “There are naked people and a woman with a… I don’t even know what that is.”

“It’s a crop,” Dylan added helpfully.

Trent chuckled. “Let me rephrase that. It’s relatively tame compared to what you’ll see upstairs. Thankfully, there is more privacy up there.”

“Thankfully? For who?”

Trent smiled down at Sarah. “You’ll see.”

True to his word, it didn’t take long for Trent to prove to Sarah that privacy was sometimes the way to go. After making a quick trip through the business end of the building where the offices were, Trent led the way down the narrow hall that overlooked the main floor. This side of the building held the recreational rooms. Unlike the three glass rooms on the main floor, which allowed onlookers to see from all angles, all of the rooms on the second floor had doors. Some people utilized them, marking the rooms as occupied.

Not surprisingly, most of the people who visited Devotion were there to watch or be watched, so it was rare that the room was completely dark—meaning the occupants inside weren’t visible to the voyeurs who lingered. Some were looking for participants to join them, others simply to be watched doing whatever it was that struck their fancy.

Trent continued on, leading the way to the largest of the rooms at the end of the hall.

“This is more how I envision my entire club looking,” he noted as they stepped inside.

It was unoccupied at the moment, which allowed them the opportunity to look around. There were several pieces of equipment, including a Saint Andrew’s cross, a spanking bench, and plenty of other “torture” devices.

“I envision your club being classy,” Sarah said, her eyes roaming the room before landing on Trent. “Similar to downstairs but on a grander scale. That’s what I’m really trying to say.” She smiled shyly. “When I look at you, I think of platinum and gold. That should carry over into your club. And aside from that, everything is clean and crisp and white. Rugged, sand-colored leather would be utilized, as well as dark hardwood.” She nodded toward his booted feet. “A balance between the two sides to you. Glitter and diamonds versus rustic and warm. A dichotomy, I guess you could say.”

“So you’ve given this some thought,” Trent noted.

“A little.” Sarah’s cheeks reddened.

“Keep going,” Trent urged, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the Saint Andrew’s cross.

“When I think about your club, I see a main floor with a central bar and various seating areas. That would be the glitter and gold part. Similar to the VIP area at Devil’s Playground. Only, more like a high-end hotel lobby, but bigger, more spread out. Then, instead of a second floor, yours will have a basement. A dungeon, I guess you would call it. That’ll still be classy, but darker, edgier. Sexy.”