Paige’s lips did provide the perfect sort of tease, that was for certain. Martin could feel a bit of a rush of heat down his neck at the brush of her lips and the barely-veiled tease in her words. As the curvy girl worked her body up and down along his, his hand slipped from her hip up her rib cage and back again, the thin fabric of her dress catching in little places along his fingertips.<br/><br/>Lena’s question was as close a proposal as one could be. For better or worse, Martin had been on both ends of that specific question a handful of times in this very club. Often enough that he had a good idea of what his next move was.<br/><br/>The professor did his best to keep a thin smile fixed to his head as he nodded in approval of Lean’s suggestion. His grip tightened just a bit on Paige’s hip as he leaned over her shoulder and did his best to let both girls hear him at once. “They have small, private rooms upstairs, overlooking the dance floor.” He made a little motion with his other hand toward a darkened corner, through which a staircase would lead them up. “Follow me.”<br/><br/>He slipped past Pagie, finally relenting in his grip on her hip. His other hand came around her and grabbed at Lena’s, helping the girls wind their way through the throng of people that gathered now on the dance floor. They pushed through a black-painted door into a dimly lit stairwell and up a single flight of steel-grate stairs, the girls’ heels clanging all the way. If they were communicating at all, Martin couldn’t hear it over the remaining thump of the music and the clamour of footsteps.<br/><br/>At the top, a burly and terribly bored looking bounce barely looked up from his phone as Martin cleared the top step. “Glasses, ice, and tequila for three, please,” Martin said as they stopped for a moment. The bounced looked up with one eye, barely interested enough to leave his game of Angry Birds. Clearly, he recognized that Martin knew the drill. Finally relenting one hand from his phone, he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Second door on the right. One of the girls will bring it right up.”<br/><br/>Martin flashed a quick smile over his shoulder, “Please, come with me, ladies,” he said quietly as he led them down the hall. The top half of the walls for the length of it was made up of mirrors, broken up only by the occasional door every 15 feet or so.. Through the aforementioned door laid a dimly lit room ringed with plush leather benches around three walls, and tinted windows overlooking the dance floor. The outer wall to the hallway was exposed by the one-way mirror, the other side of which they now stood on.<br/><br/>There were small tables in the center of the room, arm’s reach from the benches. The point of the room was privacy and just enough comfort to keep people engaged and drinking. Depending on the company, they managed that well.<br/><br/>The door had a lock, that, when engaged, would activate a small red light in the hall, alerting staff that the occupants would like a touch of privacy. When the light was off, staff knew they could swoop in to refill drinks, clear empties, etc. Martin smiled as he held the door for the girls and let them enter. “I hope you find the accommodations appropriate for at least the next bit of our evening, ladies. Drinks should be here in just a moment.”<br/>