Expose the truth.
An hour after they landed, they drove up to the Paradise Lost Hotel. The sign seemed a bit understated for what she’d expect of a Nevada hotel, lacking the neon lights and pizzazz of those found on the strip. The two-level hotel was a dingy white brick building with a working fountain in front. It didn’t look like much from the outside, but she was sure if the wealthy Sawyer had set them up here, it couldn’t be as bad as the place they’d stayed at in Florida.
The driver opened the door and she slid out of the limo. She held a hand over her eyes to shield them from the sudden light.
With the duffle Joe had given them, Logan wordlessly sidled up beside her as the door opened and Sawyer Hayes appeared.
He was just as handsome as she remembered. His blond hair fell in soft waves to just above his shoulders, and his eyes were a piercing shade of jade. The youthful innocence of his face had disappeared in the decade since she’d last seen him on television, and deep laugh lines were etched around his eyes and the corners of his lips. The few days’ worth of stubble on his chin failed to hide his dimple. In his torn jeans and a simple navy T-shirt, it would be impossible to guess his net worth by his clothes.
The nondescript lobby of the hotel was decorated in beige and crème with a Berber carpet and aerial photos of the Vegas strip. She found it odd that the front desk had two computers but no people working behind it. The place was strangely quiet, as if they were the only people here. Maybe business wasn’t doing that well and that’s why Sawyer had chosen this location as their hideout.
Smiling wildly, Sawyer shook Logan’s hand and gave him one of those typical guy half hugs while pounding his back. “Good to see you, man. Even if it’s because you’re on the run from the Feds. You never do things easy, do you? I remember that one time you got caught with those twins—”
“Sawyer, this is Rachel,” Logan said, efficiently and thankfully cutting him off before he could expound on his trip down memory lane.
Sawyer took her hand and kissed the top of it. “Sorry to meet you under these circumstances, Rachel, but it is a pleasure nonetheless.”
Even though she didn’t buy his suave act for a second, she was still affected by his flirtation and felt her cheeks heat with a blush. “Thank you.”
He released her hand. “If you’d like to join me downstairs tonight, I’d be happy to find some appropriate clothes for you to wear.” He lowered his voice, raising his eyebrows. “Unless you prefer to wear nothing at all.”
Was Sawyer still flirting, or was she missing something? “I’m sorry. I don’t think I understand.”
“You didn’t tell her?” Sawyer asked Logan, shaking his head.
Logan shot Sawyer a deadly look before turning to her. “The Paradise Lost Hotel isn’t actually a hotel. It’s a sex club.”
“We’re staying at a sex club?” she asked shrilly. “Like Benediction?”
Was everyone into the lifestyle these days?
“Tell me you’re a submissive,” Sawyer begged, taking a step closer to her. “My cock will wilt in disappointment if you’re a Domme.”
“Hands off,” Logan said, practically growling as he yanked her under his arm. “Keep them and your damned cock away from Rachel.”
Sawyer threw up his hands. “Sorry. Didn’t know she belonged to you.”
“I don’t,” she said, neither of them listening.
Logan’s eyes flashed a warning. “Well, now you do.”
Shocked, she peered up at him, wondering what the hell had gotten into him. Sure, he’d agreed to figuratively and literally show her the ropes of BDSM for as long as they were on the run, but since when did she belong to him?
“It’s not like you to be so territorial,” Sawyer said, his lips tipped up in a grin. “You used to share your toys.”
“I’m no one’s toy,” she declared with her hands on her hips, although neither of the men seemed to hear her. They were acting like cavemen. She half expected Logan to beat his chest and drag her by her hair to his cave.
Coming from anyone else, she would’ve been offended and given him a piece of her mind, but with Logan, she was oddly aroused by his display of ownership. It reminded her of how Cole treated Danielle and how Jaxon behaved with Kate. Logan was acting as if he was her Dom, and rather than anger her, it made her feel secure. She wanted to belong to him. Did that mean she wasn’t only submissive in bed, but in other aspects of her life? How could she be submissive and, at the same time, want to be in control?
She frowned. And what did Sawyer mean about sharing toys?
Heat unfurled in her belly. She had a feeling they weren’t talking about Legos.
She followed Sawyer and Logan down a hallway of what would normally be hotel guest rooms. Her mouth watered and her stomach rumbled as they passed a vending machine filled with chocolate bars and bags of chips. Even though she’d eaten in the limo, she had a couple of days of calories to make up for, and she didn’t plan on doing it with steamed vegetables and broiled fish.
When they reached room number 109, Sawyer swiped a key card through the reader on the door and then handed a card to both of them before opening the door and ushering them inside. “The guys are on their way. We’ve all been waiting for your call.”
Whatever expense Sawyer had saved on the exterior of the hotel and the lobby obviously went into the bedrooms. Everything about the room screamed “luxury.” Here the crème-colored carpet was thick and lush, and the walls were painted a light gold. The mahogany king-sized, four-poster bed had one of those gauzy canopies hanging over the top of it, and it was covered with a gold-and-crimson brocade comforter and throw pillow. A crimson cushioned bench sat at the foot of the bed.
After spending one night in a car and two in less refined bedrooms, she could definitely get used to it here.
“Knew I could count on you,” Logan said, dropping the duffle on the bed.
“The guys?” she asked, confused.
“Our friends Oz, Hunter, and Rowan,” Logan clarified.
Sawyer leaned casually against the doorframe, his arms folded across his chest. “Yeah, well, not so easy with the Feds on your asses, but Oz created credible stories and the appropriate backup trail to throw them off their scent. He made it look as though we were meeting you at Mount Rushmore in South Dakota.”
She sat down at the bottom of the mattress and practically moaned at its softness. “That’ll help thwart the FBI, but Evans and Fink will be looking for us in Vegas.”
Sawyer smiled. “Not here, though. There’s nothing tying me to this place.” He pushed off the frame of the doorway and straightened. “There’s food in the mini-fridge and everything in the vending machine is free, so help yourselves. I bought you each a few days’ worth of clothes and already put them away in the dresser.” He pointed to a closed door across the room. “You can find toiletries in the bathroom, so feel welcome to take a shower.”
Clean clothes and a shower that didn’t have mold growing in it sounded like heaven right now.
Sawyer checked his watch. “I’ll call you when the guys get here, and we can figure out your next move.”
Logan strode to Sawyer and shook his hand. “Thanks again for sticking your neck out for us.”
Sawyer nodded, smacking Logan’s shoulder. “My club, Paradise Found, opens at nine downstairs. There’s a separate entrance at the back that leads directly to it, so if you choose to remain up here, you’ll have all the privacy you need so long as you stay in your room. The others will be . . . occupied during club hours.” He turned, his gaze lasering in on her. “And Ms. Dawson, I do hope I’ll get the pleasure of your company in the club tonight. If you’re worried about being recognized, you’re welcome to wear a mask. We don’t have the same exclusive requirements that you find at Benediction. For thirty-five dollars and a waiver, you get entry into the club for the night. For that reason, several of our guests choose to wear masks to maintain anonymity.” He tipped his chin and shut the door behind him as he left.