But each night she had closed her eyes, she hadn’t revisited that same dreamland. The man haunted her. His touches ignited her skin each time she thought about him. How his mouth felt on her flesh. The way his fingers had trailed over her breasts and her thighs. Cindy kept bugging her about going back to Hell’s Gate. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to, but the thought of maybe seeing the man underneath the cloak had her intrigued. April wasn’t sure about the rest of the club. Some of the characters had given her the chills. Especially the cheetah man who had been dancing with Cindy. Every night the yellow strip of plastic was beside her bed, enticing her to return. Friday night rolled around again and she searched through her closet looking for something to wear. For the first time she wished that she had something that wasn’t so conservative. Sighing, she heard the knock on the door. When she opened the door, Cindy had a grin on her face and a bag slung over her shoulder. “Thought you might want to get ready before we go.
