Poker Posse 1: Looking at Rose by Qwillia Rain

ones that came close were all men. Not an Amazon in sight. A part of her wanted to curl up and hide from the curious stares at the same time the attention sparked something in her. A strange urge to preen, to show herself off.
    Could Ibraham be right? Was it possible her height wasn’t as off-putting as she’d thought?
    “I guess what they say is true.”
    The comment from Norah registered. Rose turned to look at her. “What who says?”
    Mirrie laughed. “Inside every good girl is a bad girl dying to get out.”
    Rose chuckled. If anyone epitomized the bad girl emerging from a good girl, it was Mirabeth. She looked very sexy with her platinum-blonde hair framing her face and hanging in soft waves down her back. The electric-blue suede skimmed her figure and left her legs exposed from midthigh down. The same bright blue decorated her toenails, matching the open-toed four-inch stilettos she wore.
    “Exactly,” Norah agreed with Mirrie.
    In her favorite black stilettos, Rose towered over all four of her friends. The black sequined halter top and leather miniskirt hugged her curves, but she worried about her choice of outfit after seeing the skimpier ones on the different customers milling around. “Ari said it was leather night.”
    Ari’s hand was cool and soft as she patted Rose’s shoulder. “You look fine, Rose. Tall, but fine. Actually you look fabulous, like a naughty Snow White, especially with your hair down. All of you look great. Perfect for Omen’s crowd.”
    Norah and Ellie had chosen to wear leather pants and matching corsets. Instead of the ever-present black, Norah wore deep violet leather that went well with her strawberry-blonde hair and ivory skin, and brought out the gray of her eyes. Ellie’s outfit was a vibrant fire-engine red that highlighted the copper and gold in her chestnut hair, and quite the change from her staid outfits and tight chignon. She looked like the beauty who tamed the beast with her vibrant blue eyes and creamy skin. But of the five of them, Ari was the most daringly dressed in a white leather halter minidress that zipped closed from hem to the deep, plunging neckline. She’d left her red hair loose to fall in soft corkscrew curls down her back. All she needed was a little white cap and stethoscope to round out the naughty-nurse vibe.
    “The next show begins at nine. It’ll only last fifteen or twenty minutes,” Ellie explained, her voice vague since her attention was drawn to the man working with the flame.
    Norah shook her head at her friend’s distraction. “Once the master or mistress finishes their presentation, you can approach them to ask questions.”
    Ari nodded. “If you’re interested in experiencing what they’re demonstrating, you can ask, but if they say no, don’t push. Some forms of play are risky and take years to master, so playing with a novice doesn’t appeal.”
    Rose and Mirrie exchanged a look before Mirrie asked what they’d both been wondering. “How long have you three been coming here?”
    Each of the other three women blushed and then answered.
    Norah admitted, “About six months.”
    Ellie coughed, then said, “Eight months.”
    Ari confessed, “Three years.” Then she hurriedly added, “But for research.”
    Rose gasped, not sure if she was hurt that she hadn’t been invited by her friends or proud that she was friends with women brave enough to explore a lifestyle usually kept secret from the world. “And you never thought to invite us? That’s just mean. Just pure—Oh. My. God.”
    All thought left her the moment she saw a man climb on top of a black-barred cage and hold on as it rose off the ground.
    Ibraham. But not the daytime Ibraham she was familiar with. This one belonged to the night. Last night, if she really wanted to be specific. His hair was loose around his bare shoulders, and black leather pants hugged his lean hips and long legs. Even his bare feet were sexy. Was this what he’d meant about things she