Dark Xanadu Read Online Free PDF

look better than the tee…
    She shook her head. She could spend the whole evening changing outfits and never get anywhere. If she was going to go crash the scene at Dark Xanadu, she should go. If she was going to spend the night with some early Anita Blake and a glass of wine, it didn’t matter what she wore.
    Fantasies about kinky sex hadn’t started with Kent, nor had they started when she read her first Anne Rice book. She’d been dreaming about being tied up since before she really understood sex at all. Edward, her long-term, live-in boyfriend, hadn’t been the type for those fantasies, though. He was kind, gentle, and loving, and she loved him back. Sex with him had been pleasurable and mutually satisfying. He’d been dead for two years, and she hadn’t stopped loving him. That was part of the reason she hadn’t sought out—no, had avoided—men. She felt as if she were being disloyal for liking anyone very different than Edward, and yet the men who were most like him didn’t do anything for her at all.
    All of which brought her to the real reason why she wanted to go, and didn’t want to go, to Dark Xanadu. Kent. He’d probably be in someone else’s arms—well, more likely have someone in his arms. She’d only met him once. She ought to be able to deal with that, but she wasn’t entirely sure she could. On the other side was her fantasy that he would swoop her off her feet and make all her kinkiest dreams come true.
    Lipstick. She got up, smudged off the pale pink lippy she’d worn to work and replaced it with a ruby red she hadn’t used for ages. It was far too provocative a shade for the workplace, but it went well with her nearly black curls.
    Here goes nothing.
    She had time for second and third thoughts in the car ride over, but in the end she parked her blue Chevy Malibu in the lot behind the warehouse. The lot was nearly full, a few dozen cars in it all told. As before, nothing marked the building as a club. Obviously, keeping a low profile was important. She figured that probably meant that people entered from the back, too, so she walked up and tried the back door.
    It opened, but she didn’t see the broad expanse of the club she’d been expecting. Instead she was in a small “room” of sorts that hadn’t existed last time, although the wood plank walls didn’t go all the way to the high ceiling. She recognized Brennan immediately. The muscular man was sitting on tall barstool, wearing tight leather pants and a leather vest that was open in front. The man had more hair on his chest then he did on the top of his head, and he wasn’t anywhere close to bald.
    “Hey. Angela, right?”
    She nodded. “And you’re Brennan.”
    “You’ve got a good memory for names. Or you haven’t been able to get me out of your mind.” He grinned, taking the conceit out of the comment before she took him down a peg or two.
    The sounds coming from the club beyond were like a siren’s call to her. She could only imagine what was going on behind the moans and more. “Something like that,” she told Brennan.
    “May I see some ID, please?”
    Angela fished in her jacket pocket for her wallet and showed him her license. He took out his iPhone and looked between it and the ID for a few moments. “You’re not on the member list.”
    She’d expected that. And clearly, a place like Dark Xanadu didn’t let in people off the street. But from what she’d read in the membership application, a member was allowed to bring guests. And of course the owner qualified. “I’m Kent’s guest.”
    Brennan shook his head, obviously more amused than annoyed. “Ixnay. He would have told me and put you on the guest list.”
    She’d been so sure it would work. She sighed. If she got to this point she intended to shrug and let it go, deciding it wasn’t for her. But she didn’t want to let it go.
    “May I take your coat?” Brennan asked.
    “Excuse me?”
    “May I take your coat? It’s plenty warm in the