Chapter 15

Her hand was smooth and strong, gripping his hand firmly. She had taken his hand quite naturally, the better to lead him through the darkened passageway, he presumed. But it still felt very intimate, too physical.

Arif smiled in the darkness at his own prudishness: How can holding hands be too physical? It was probably just married-man's-guilt. But there was something about this woman, Lena Kapoor, that oozed sensuality. Which made even the act of holding hands seem shockingly suggestive.

Take the way she was showing him around these secret places, for instance. He had only just met her a little while ago, accidentally, and here she was, treating him like an old friend, making him privy to the private crannies of her nightclub. At the same time, he was enjoying the thrill of this unexpected encounter, this feeling of anything-can-happen-next, feeding off the vicarious pleasure she obviously got from the whole business.

He looked up as she turned back briefly, motioning to her left. He looked and saw what she was pointing at. They were in another room now, immediately adjoining the first one, the museum-like office that he had accidentally entered. This room was in complete darkness, but there was enough light filtering in from the left to illuminate it sufficiently enough for them to find their way without bumping into furniture.

The light came from a floor-to-ceiling tinted glass window that ran the entire length of the left wall. This wall curved sharply around in a crescent, disappearing further ahead. Arif realized that it was a continuation of the same one-way mirror he had seen in the first room.

He understood the layout of the place now. The whole of Sin City was one giant square with a large circle drawn in the center of the square, perimeters intersecting. Like a pizza in a box. The pizza was then bisected into five triangular slices, which were the five sections: Bikini Bowlarama, Footloose and Fiance-free, One's company, CyberCingles, and Cool Pool. The blank space left between the rim of the circle and the perimeter of the square was where the private offices were located. It was this oddly shaped area they were exploring right now, pausing to look through the one-way glass into the different sections.

Right now, Lena was showing Arif the view of the Bikini Bowlarama. A giant state-of-the-art bowling concourse packed from end to end with gorgeous young invitees. All clad in bikinis. Even the men, he realized, amused. Some of the men were wearing little chest-straps which matched their thong briefs. He had seen something like it once on fashiontv. Apparently, it was a trendy style in some of the world's more uptodate beach resorts: male tops.

As he and Lena watched, a guy and a girl approached, laughing boisterously, and the man pressed the woman against the glass wall. Arif suddenly found his hand, the one touching the glass casually, covering the exact spot where the woman's right buttock was pressed back. The couple began to kiss, their virtually naked flesh pressing against each other, the woman's body mapped out on the glass like an anatomy lesson. She parted her legs playfully and pulled the man's hand between them. He ran them up and down the inside of her thighs, then paused at her crotch. Arif watched with disbelief as the man pulled the bikini brief downwards, stretching the fabric, and slipped his middle finger up into the woman. Her buttocks clenched and unclenched around his probing finger.