Free Hells Gate: Santino by Crymsyn Hart Page A

can take it.” Cindy checked her watch. “Fuck. We’re running late. I wanted to get there by now, but it took me forever to do my hair. I hope he doesn’t stop early. As it is, there’s going to be a line. I can fix this.” Her friend pulled her top down so April’s scarlet satin bra showed. She started to protest, but the other woman slapped her hand away.
    “Who’s this he you’re talking about, and what about a line? I thought we were going to dance. You said that no one cares what you look like at this place and people leave you relatively alone. I didn’t sign up for waiting in line to see someone.”
    Cindy waved her off. “You’re going to have a good time. I promise. And no one will bother you. Maybe if they say hello or something. But the regulars won’t hit on you. I’ve been here with Cleo, from work, a bunch of times. This place is awesome. They have a dozen or so different fetishes you can try. Cleo was the one who told me about the particular one that I want to check out. You have to try it with me, but we gotta go or the line gets really long. He only takes a certain amount of people during the night.”
    April rolled her eyes. It seemed she was getting in further over her head than she had bargained for. “So what makes this guy so special? What kind of fetish does he do? Tie you up and whip you? Tickle you until you beg for mercy? Smack your ass with a paddle until you bleed?”
    “Of course not. Those are for the vanillas who walk off the street and don’t know what they want. This guy kisses you.”
    April chuckled. “That’s it? He kisses you and nothing else?”
    A knowing smile crossed her friend’s lips. “Oh, there’s more than that. Cleo gave me the lowdown on her experience and said it was better than sex. I’ve been dying to try it, but he’s only there a couple of times a month. Come on.”
    Cindy grabbed April’s arm and pulled her out the door. April clutched her purse and knew there wasn’t any way she was escaping. Nothing about what her friend said about playing tonsil hockey with a strange man sounded intriguing to her. April didn’t even kiss anyone until the third date. Most guys didn’t appreciate that, but it weeded out the bad seeds, in her opinion. If they couldn’t wait to jump her bones, then what was the point in dating them?

 
    Chapter Two
     
    Twenty minutes later, they stood outside the club. April rubbed her arms from the chill that tinged the night. A shiver snaked along her nerves as she stared at the blackened bricks of the nightclub’s exterior. A long line of patrons wound around the corner of the building. People chatted around her while they waited to get in.
    “This is bullshit. We’re never going to get in to see him.”
    “It’s not the end of the world. We can always come back another night.”
    The line began to move again. Cindy grabbed her arm. “Not on your life. It’s only eleven. This place stays open until four in the morning. I’m sure we’ll be able to see him. Besides, I’ve been anticipating this all month.”
    April giggled from a quick image that flashed through her mind.
    “What’s so funny?” Cindy asked.
    “Nothing. Just the vision of you rehearsing your kissing as if you were a teenager in the bathroom mirror waiting for your hot date. I can see you puckering up to the glass and waiting for it to kiss you back. Or maybe you were checking your technique.”
    Her friend’s cheeks reddened. She looked down at her shoes and then back at April. Cindy shifted and then glanced back at the club. “I did no such thing.”
    April punched her arm lightly. “You did. Oh my God! You were practicing for tonight. Please don’t tell me you were actually placing your lips on the mirror. Next you’ll tell me you were kissing your hand.”
    “You’re such a bitch. Now keep going. We’re almost inside.”
    She rolled her eyes and moved with the line. They had finally come to the entrance of the club. At the entry was