Wicked Christmas Eve by Eliza Gayle Page A

and used them to indicate behind her before he sat them in front of her. Megan scooped up one of her drinks and slowly turned the stool to investigate. The barroom was quite large with dark wood tables filling the space, but in the back corner, there were double doors propped open that led to a separate area. A private room rented out for parties if she remembered correctly. Although what her gaze rested on certainly lacked in privacy.
    Megan’s eyes widened.
    Just beyond the opening she spied a naked woman standing against a tall post with her arms tied over her head. Megan’s booted foot slipped from the ledge of the stool and landed on the floor with a thud. The tall blonde woman had a strikingly thin figure, willowy like a model with porcelain perfect skin except for the red streaks covering her ass.
    While Megan struggled for a consistent thought on what she was witnessing, an imposing male figure blocked her view of the mystery woman with the lovely backside. Broad shoulders, a lean torso, and an awesomely tight ass encased in black pants filled the doorway. Curious to see more, Megan shifted on the seat to angle her body for the best view. The rear view alone caused a slight tingle in all her girly parts. Now she wanted him to turn around so she could see the face of her newly imagined sex god.
    Instead her gaze was drawn to his hips where his hand held a flogger in a tight grip. A flash of heat tore through her,. Her sex moistened, and her nipples puckered at the thought of him raising his arm and using the flogger on the woman helpless in front of him.
    Holy fuck.
    Suddenly she felt like Alice in the rabbit hole. She was from a small, southern town. It wasn’t exactly a hotbed of sexual proclivities, but obviously that had changed. The bartender behind her cleared his throat, pulling her attention to the fact she was staring at something obviously not her business. She swiveled in her seat and brought the shot of alcohol to her lips. In one gulp, she downed the fiery liquid. She welcomed the burn in the hopes it would distract her from the wild thoughts now racing through her mind.
    A sex club.
    She’d never planned for a night like this but now… Well, her body grew hotter the more she thought about what might be going on in that room. What would it be like to let go of her inhibitions and spend a few hours just savoring the pleasures of sex with no strings attached?
    Between her legs, her sex swelled, and moisture trickled to the tops of her thighs. Maybe removing her thong hadn’t been a great idea after all. A faint cracking sound interrupted her train of thought. Was that a whip? Her hands closed into fists. Her clothes grew too tight. Megan reached for her second glass of tequila and dragged it closer.
    “Hey, Brian. Can I get a bottle of water?”
    The dark, rough voice filtered through her head. Megan’s gaze followed the sound and looked up into the tanned strong face—
    “Cyrus Jackson?” She blurted the name from her lips before she could stop them. Oh God.
    His gaze jerked to hers, giving her a hard, assessing look before he scanned her from head to toe. Heat crawled up her skin the longer he stared. Embarrassed at her outburst, she broke eye contact and stared down at her glass.
    “Do I know you?”
    He didn’t recognize her.
    Just like old times. Back in high school it had seemed most days he didn’t have a clue who she was. The fact she’d fallen madly in crush the first day she’d laid eyes on him hadn’t helped. It had taken an enormous amount of willpower not to follow him around like a lovesick puppy.
    Not that time and difference seemed to change things much. He looked as delicious as ever, and thoughts of spending a wild night with him ran rampant through her mind.
    “Sort of. I mean, not really,” she answered, despite the knot forming in her throat.
    He pushed the chair out next to her and took a seat. “Well, now I’m intrigued. How do I sort of not really know you? You