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Start a War (Saint View Psychos #1)(40)

Author:Elle Thorpe

“You okay?” Nash asked quietly, watching me instead of the woman.

“It gets worse, doesn’t it?”

A twinkle of mischief sparkled in his eyes. “Or better, depending on what you like.”

I’d never even watched porn, so watching a live sex show was confronting. I wouldn’t have ever thought it would be something I would like. It seemed cheap and classless, and yet there was a throbbing between my legs that said otherwise.

We moved to the next cage. This one held another naked woman but also a naked man. Their bodies again were toned and perfect, glistening with oil and shining in the lights. They had blindfolds across their eyes, and they stood at the very edges of the cage where the onlookers could participate.

I glanced at Nash. “You can…touch?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Anywhere?”

“The performers will step back from anyone touching them in a way they don’t like, and security is on standby to throw anyone out at one word from them. But for the most part, yes. You can touch them anywhere. Want to have a go?”

I shook my head quickly, and Nash chuckled. But I didn’t move. My gaze was glued to the performers. Two women on the outside worked the man’s body. Their hands reached through the bars, one jerking his erect cock, the other playing with his balls. A man stroked his abs and hips and thigh. Whatever he could get his hands on.

The female performer stood sideways to us, a man’s fingers thrusting in and out of her core. Another man squeezed her ass, his fingers dipping between her crack while she rocked her hips. Breathy moans fell from her soft lips, like she was on the verge of coming.

I turned away quickly. That throbbing between my legs turned into a pulse that was hard to ignore. My panties grew damp.

“Do you want to keep going?” Nash asked.

“Yes.” The word sounded almost like a moan.

I was less surprised by the third cage. Again, it was filled with a naked couple. The man had his face buried between the woman’s thighs, licking her for everyone around them to see. They acted like they didn’t even see the people watching them.

It was dirty and hot and beautiful all at once.

A topless waitress swung by, her breasts small, high and tight, a black choker around her throat

“Want a drink, Disney?”

I gaped at Rebel in nothing but her panties.

She grinned at me. “Now you know why I didn’t need a dress for the night.” She offered the tray of drinks to me again. “Take one, you look like you need it.”

I took a glass of champagne, but my worry for my new friend drowned out the desire to drink. “Are you okay with this? They aren’t…” I dropped my voice. “Forcing you, are they?”

“No way. Nash and Axel would never have someone working here who didn’t want to.”

“So you want to do this?” I had to be sure.

Rebel’s bright-red lipstick gleamed around her white teeth. “Truthfully, Dis? I’ve never loved a job more than I love this one. The money is aces, and I kinda get off on guys watching me, all while knowing they can’t have me.”

Nash folded his arms across his chest. “Nobody here touches the staff. How much or how little the waitresses wear is up to them. Rebel could wear a dress if she wanted—”

“But the tips are better if you’re at least semi naked.”

Nash nodded. “Can’t argue with that. Most of our waitresses are happy to work in their underwear, or less.”

“I get groped more when I’m fully clothed and working at the bar,” Rebel said with a shrug. “In here, they wouldn’t dare.”

The uncomfortableness in my chest eased a bit, knowing Rebel was here and dressed as she was because she wanted to be, and not because anyone was forcing her.

She jerked her head toward the fourth cage. “Have you checked out Tiff and her guys yet? They were putting on quite the show just before.”

“We were getting there, but Bliss looked like she needed a drink.”

He wasn’t wrong. I swallowed several mouthfuls of the bubbly liquid, surprised at the quality of it. “I want to see.”

Rebel bumped me with her hip. “Atta girl.”

Nash let me lead the way, and I joined the group gathered around the fourth cage.

“Holy shit,” I murmured. I didn’t swear much, but it was warranted in this case.

The woman—Tiff—had three guys with her. All of them were big, buff-looking men. They had Tiff tied in a standing star position, silk ties around her wrists and ankles, the other ends tied to the bars on the cage. Again, there wasn’t a stitch of clothing between them. One of the guys kissed her deeply, plunging his tongue into her mouth while he held the back of her head. He’d gathered her long blond hair up in his fist and used it to guide her. His other hand tweaked and teased her nipple.

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