I’d been working at Club Joi as the executive event coordinator for over six months and I hadn’t heard Elise’s name uttered once. At first, this made me ultra-suspicious—now I understood it was part of the respect and privacy the members extended to each other. There was zero gossip at the club. Which was frustrating. No one asked questions, more frustration.

Six months of nothing.

Elise was gone without a trace. The police were scratching their heads with no leads. Her parents were beside themselves with worry and heartbreak. And I was destroyed.

“Excuse me.” A smooth, rich voice pulled me from my thoughts.

I pulled my gaze from the scantily dressed women drinking champagne in front of the fireplace in the great room to a man who interrupted my thoughts.

Adam Newcomb.

The man was a real-life, walking, talking, billboard ad for something manly.

It was a shame he was a member of a sex club. If I’d met him out in the real world I would’ve done something outrageous to catch his attention, and if that didn’t work, I would’ve approached him and asked him out for a drink.

Sandy-brown hair, nice eyes, carried himself with an air of confidence. Not the kind that was cocky and screamed douchebag. His came from someplace deep, he was comfortable in any environment. He was the master of his universe, and that was because he was good at what he did and knew it.

He was sexy as hell.

But he belonged to a sex club and that was a hard pass.

“Hello, Mr. Newcomb. Is everything all right?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing.”

He was?

“Everything is wonderful, is it not?”

I glanced around the room. Everyone was smiling and happy. Having a good time talking to their fellow members, enjoying light hors d’oeuvres and the two-glass maximum for those who would be playing later. There were also strict rules about intoxication, and a drink limit for anyone who was participating in any kind of sex.

“It is,” he confirmed. “That’s why I’m wondering why you’re standing off to the side, frowning. Do you find something particularly distasteful or is it the party as a whole?”

Damn.

Shit.

“Of course I don’t find consenting adults participating in activities that are mutually satisfying distasteful. If I was frowning, I apologize, I was thinking about the champagne. More to the point, if the staff had ordered enough.”

Semi-lie.

I didn’t find it distasteful per se, it just wasn’t my scene. And it was not something I wanted to witness or be a part of.

Adam leaned closer, his mouth dangerously close to touching my ear when he whispered, “That sounds rehearsed.” I felt his breath against my neck, I caught the scent of his woodsy cologne, and against my will, I shivered. “Or more to my point, it sounds like bullshit.”

He straightened and I felt that, too. The loss of his closeness. It was only for a second, but I didn’t miss the way his heat had surrounded me.