“What’s this?” she asked, pausing in front of a large white box sitting upon a raised platform.
Nasa moved around to the side and flipped a switch, sticking his arm inside to demonstrate.
“It’s a shadow box. You can get inside and dance. Most women seem to have fun doing a little strip ease.”
She snorted at the suggestively playful waggle of his brows.
“In your dreams, Mr. Universe.”
“You’ll be the star of that show, Tiger Lily,” he told her with a wide grin. Before he flicked off the bright light, Dillon considered what it would look like from this side, to be completely enclosed in that box with him sitting in the chair below, unable to see anything except her shadow.
She got the appeal.
Nasa led her up a fantastic staircase made of reclaimed wood and hand-forged iron rails. At the top, they turned right, and Nasa pointed out the private lounge and bar area that had a perfect view of everything happening on the floor below.
“Members aren't allowed to have alcohol unless it's up here, and if they're drinking, they're not playing. The private rooms are this way.”
Nasa led her down to the open hallway, glancing back at her as they passed room three, pausing outside door number four.
“Balls out.”
The reminder of her promise to tell him how she was feeling made her grin. “Balls are out, and I'm nervous, but the same kind of nervous you get at the top of the roller coaster.”
Nasa smirked, twisted the door knob, and showed her into a room that looked like something out of a spa catalog. Again, not anywhere near the scary images she'd had in her mind.
The walls were painted a deep, smoky gray with a section of mirrors along the one side. A shaggy silver rug covered the glossy black floor beneath the wide massage table in the center of the room, and the cut metal ceiling had tiny holes pricked across the surface to give the illusion of starlight.
“This is one of the aftercare rooms,” Nasa told her. “Sometimes the play can be intense—the emotional or physical release so great, the submissive goes into a state of acute sensitivity.
"Too much outside stimulation can ruin the experience, so they come up here and spend time with their partner, being soothed and allowed to come back down to earth as gently as possible.”
Dillon noticed an abundance of soft, fluffy blankets, towels, and cotton sheets for the massage table, all neatly folded onto the shelving unit, an array of oil choices, and a wide range of aromatherapy options.
Elka kept pace right at her heel while Dillon explored, opening the only other door in the room to find a large bathroom, complete with one of those free-standing soaking tubs.
“There should be a robe on the back of the door,” Nasa said from right behind her, causing Dillon to stiffen up only for the briefest of moments.
“Most times, people go naked for their massage, but if you feel more comfortable with your panties on, that's fine. Get changed, and I'll set up out here. What kind of oil would you like me to use?”
Dillon half-turned to look over her shoulder, her belly twisting in knots even as arousal sparked through her because of that voice of his, low and gritty, had her feeling jittery and nervous in the best way possible.
“Whatever you prefer.”
His eyes were warm, his nostrils flared, and Dillon knew if she looked down, she'd see the bulge of his erection.
“Take your time.”
Dillon shut the bathroom door and faced her reflection in the mirror. In her session today, Dillon talked with Dr. White about the discussion she'd had with Top.
Dr. White listened attentively, as she always had, and Dillon confessed she felt more at home inside the biker compound at Perdition than she ever had in any ofher own carefully constructed fortresses.
Dr. White proposed some of Dillon's feelings came from Nasa's proximity, and with some thorough self-examination, Dillon couldn't deny it.
They also talked about what it would mean to go back to Dallas. She didn't feel safe in her home there; she was alone. The people she thought were her safety net were unreliable, and the Leviathans knew where she lived.
Dillon outfitted secure homes all over the place, not just in Texas. It wasn't like she’d lose business by moving, and now was an opportune time to do it.
Nasa made it plain he wanted her around, but three weeks into a high-stress situation didn’t feel like the best time to judge whether or not any kind of sustainable relationship could be forged. Then again, Top and Dr. White both saw a change in Nasa, which suggested he was planning for the long-term.
Surprisingly, the prospect didn't upset her.
From the day Nasa had come up to Dallas—even as she'd fought it—he'd made her feel safe. He'd done nothing but give to her, and Nasa was about to give more.
Dillon stared at herself, her hands braced on the white marble sink, and made a decision.
She went to the bathroom, washed her hands, stripped out of her clothes, folded them neatly on the sink, and took several deep breaths.
The air was cool enough to make her skin prickle, but as soon as she opened the door and walked into the main room, her temperature soared.
Nasa turned at the sound of her entry, the smooth black rock in his hand fell to the floor with a loud smack, and he stared at her in obvious surprise.
Her heart thundered in her ears as she walked to him completely naked, and as gracefully as she knew how, knelt at his feet.
He didn't move so much as a muscle for a least sixty seconds, frozen in shock. Nervous as hell, Dillon leaned forward to pick up the rock he'd dropped and offered it to him with a smile.
Their fingers touched, and Dillon felt the electricity race down her arm to sizzle between her thighs. Elka thought
