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“Do I have to take off my clothes?” Sarah tugged on the hem of her black dress. It was shorter and lower cut in the front than she normally wore, but the Viewing was about finding a man for sex and according to Ethan men liked to look.
“No.” Ethan turned her away from the door and forced her to look at him. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
She stared into his blue eyes. Why couldn’t he be interested in her? She’d only met with him five or six times, but she trusted him. He ran his business, La Petite Mort Club, very professionally and he was gorgeous with his sandy brown hair, strong cheekbones and vibrant blue eyes. Sex between them would be good. Easy. He was attractive and...not for her. She didn’t want decent sex or good sex, she wanted mind blowing, screaming orgasms and that wouldn’t happen between him and her because there was no chemistry, no attraction.
“Listen to me.” He moved his hands to her shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. “You aren’t selling yourself to the highest bidder. You’re looking for a partner. One who’ll”—he grinned—“turn you on in ways you can’t even imagine.”
She glanced at the door where the men waited. Waited for her. Waited to decide if they wanted to fuck her. “I’m a bit nervous.”
“About what?”
This was embarrassing, but she’d been honest with him up to this point. She’d had to be. He was helping her...had helped her to choose the five men in the other room. “What if none of them...”
“They will want you.” He touched her chin, turning her face toward him. “A few of them may back out after this but not because they don’t want you.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I’m only going to say this once. You’re beautiful and different, unique.”
“That’s not necessarily a good thing.” She had long legs and a nice body—trim and firm—but with her auburn hair and green eyes she was cute at best, not gorgeous. The men she’d chosen were all rich, good looking and powerful. They could have anyone they wanted.
“It’s exactly what they want, or most of them anyway.” He took her hand and led her closer to the door.
She leaned on his arm, hating these shoes. She should’ve stuck with her flats but Ethan had given her a list of what she should wear and high heels were on the top. She’d found the smallest heels in the store and by Ethan’s look when he’d first seen her she might’ve been better off going barefoot. He’d met her at the private entrance and his gaze had been appreciating as it’d skimmed over her dress until he got to her feet. Then he’d frowned and shook his head.
“Finding the right men for you wasn’t easy.” He stopped at the door.
“Thanks a lot.” She shifted away from him, his words hurting a little. She hadn’t been sure of her appeal to the opposite sex in a long time, not since the early years with Adam.
“It’s not because you aren’t beautiful but because you want to be dominated and you want to dominate—”
“I do not want to dominate.” All she could picture was a woman in black leather with a whip and that wasn’t her, not at all.
“If you say so.” He smiled a little. “But, you do want to lead the scene. Right? Because that’s what—”
“Yes.” Her face was red. She could feel it. She didn’t want to talk about her fantasies again. It’d been embarrassing enough the first time, but he’d had to know what she wanted to compile a list of candidates.
“Most at the club are either doms or subs. Very few are switches.” His eyes raked over her. “That’s what’s so special about you. You want it all and...that’s what made choosing these men difficult.”
He’d given her a selection of twenty-two men who might be interested in what she wanted. She’d narrowed it down to seven. Two had been uninterested when he’d approached. That’d left her with the five who’d see her in person for the first time tonight, but she wouldn’t see them. That’d come after the Viewing when she interviewed any who were still interested.
“Remember what you want. This is your deal. You call the shots. At least a little.” He kissed her forehead. “But don’t refuse to give them anything. You don’t want a submissive.”
“No.” That didn’t turn her on at all and she only had eight weeks. One night each week for two months before she’d go back to her lonely life, her lonely bed, dreaming of Adam.
“You can do this.” He pulled a flask from his jacket and unscrewed the lid. “For courage.”
“Thanks.” She took a large swallow, the brandy too thick and sweet for her taste but it was better than nothing.
“Now, go find your lover.”
She laughed a little but sadness swept through her. There’d be no love between this man and herself. This would be sex, fucking. That’s all. The only man she’d ever love, her only lover, was dead. This was purely physical. “Thank you again.” She stood on tip-toe and kissed his cheek. He may be gorgeous and run a sex club but he was a good man, a good friend.
She turned and opened the door and walked into the room, trying to stay balanced on these stupid heels. Men wouldn’t find them so attractive if they had to wear them. The room was dark except for one light highlighting a small platform. That was for her. She stepped up onto the small stage. The room was silent but they were there, above her, hidden behind the one-way mirrors, watching and deciding if they wanted to take the next step—to eventually take her.
She stared into the blackness of the room. It wasn’t huge but its emptiness made it seem vast. She glanced upward, the light making her squint and she quickly stared back into the darkness. This was arranged for them to see her. That was it. She’d get no glimpse of them yet. She’d seen their pictures, chosen them but meeting them in person would be different. A picture couldn’t tell her their smell or the sound of their voices.
She tugged at her dress where it hugged her hips, wishing the questions would start, but there was only silence. She shifted, the heels already killing her feet. Ethan hadn’t liked them and if they weren’t going to impress, she might as well take them off. She moved to the back of the stage, leaned against the wall and removed her shoes. As she returned to the center of the stage a man spoke, his voice loud and commanding almost echoing throughout the room.
“Don’t stop there. Take off your dress.”
She bent, placing her shoes on the floor. That wasn’t part of the deal. She wasn’t going to undress in front of five men, only one. Only the one she chose. She straightened. “No.”
“What?” He was surprised and not happy.
“I said no. That’s not part of the Viewing.”
“I want to see what I’m getting.”
She stared up toward the windows, squinting a little. She couldn’t tell from where the voice had come. The speaker system made it sound as if it were coming from God himself. “And you will if I pick you.”
Another man laughed.
“It’s not funny. She’s disobedient,” said the man with the loud voice.
“Not always. I can be obedient.” These men liked to be in control but sometimes, so did she.
“Will you raise your dress? Just a little,” asked another voice.
“Didn’t you see enough in the photos?” She’d applied a few months ago for this one-time contract. She’d been excited and nervous when she’d received the acceptance email with an appointment for a photography session. She’d never had her picture professionally taken, since she didn’t count school portraits or the ones her parents had had done at JCPenny’s. She’d been anxious and a little turned on imaging wearing her new lingerie in front of a strange man, so she’d been disappointed to find the photographer was an elderly woman, but the lady had put her at ease and the photos had turned out better than she’d expected. She glanced up at the mirrors, hoping she wasn’t disappointing all the men. That’d be too embarrassing.
“Those were...nice, but I’d like to see the real thing before deciding if you’re worth my time.”
She raised a brow. “You can always leave.” She shouldn’t antagonize him. She was sure the bossy man had already decided against committing to this agreement. Disobedience didn’t appeal to him. That left four. If she didn’t pick any of them, she could go through the process again, but she didn’t think she would.
The man chuckled slightly. “I know that, but I haven’t decided I don’t want to fuck you. Not yet, anyway.”
The word, so harsh and vulgar excited her. It was the truth. That was what she, what they were all deciding. Who’d get to fuck her. It was what she wanted, what she’d agreed to do, and as much as she dreaded it, she wanted it. She was tired of being alone. She missed having a man inside her—his tongue and fingers and cock.
“Do any of you have any questions?” She clasped her dress at her waist and slowly gathered it upward, displaying more and more of her long legs. She ran. They were in shape. The men would like them.
“Lower your top,” said the same man who’d told her to take off her dress.
She didn’t like him. If he didn’t back out, she’d have Ethan remove him from her list. He was too commanding. He’d never allow her to be in control.
“I don’t know if he’s done looking at my legs yet.” She continued raising the dress until her black and green lace panties were almost exposed.
“Very nice and thank you,” said the polite man.
“You’re welcome.” This man might work. She shifted the dress up another inch before dropping it, giving them a glance at her panties.
“Now, your top,” said the bossy guy.
She lowered her spaghetti string off one shoulder, letting the dress dip, but not enough to show anything besides the side of her bra.
“More,” he said.
“No.” She raised the strap, covering herself. She didn’t like this man and wished he’d leave. She’d kick him out but that wasn’t part of the process and they were very firm about their rules at this club.
“He got to see your pussy. Why don’t I get to see your tits?”
“You got to see as much as he did.” She was ready to move on. She bent and picked up her shoes. “If there’s nothing else, gentleman, we can set up times for the interview process.”
“Turn around,” said another man.
It was a command, but she didn’t mind. There was a politeness to his order and something about the texture of his voice caused an ache between her thighs. There was a caress in his tone but with an edge and a promise of a good hard fuck.
“Are you going to obey?” His words were whisper soft and smooth.
“Yes.” That was going to be part of this too. Her commanding and him commanding. She dropped her shoes and turned.
“Raise you dress again.”
She looked over her shoulder at where she imagined he sat watching her.
“Please.” There was humor in his tone.
She smiled and slowly gathered the dress upward. She stopped right below the curve of her bottom.
“More. Please.” There was a little less humor in his voice.
She wanted to show him her ass. She wanted to show that voice everything but not with the others around. This would be just her and one man, one stranger. That was one of her rules. “No. Only if you’re picked do you get to see any more of me than you have.” She dropped her dress, grabbed her shoes and walked off the stage and out the door.
She was going to have sex with a stranger. She was going to live out her fantasies for eight nights with a man she didn’t know and would never really know, but she wasn’t going to lose who she was. She’d keep her honor and her dignity which meant she had to pick a man who’d agree with her rules.
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Annie finished making the bed and gathered the sheets from the floor, keeping them as far away from her body as possible. These sex rooms were disgusting and Ethan was a jerk making her work as a maid. She almost had her Bachelor’s Degree in Culinary Arts, but he’d refused to hire her for the kitchen—too many men in the kitchen. The only job he’d give her at La Petite Mort Club was as a maid and unfortunately, she needed the money too badly to refuse.
She stuffed the dirty sheets into the cart and hurried out the door. She had almost thirty minutes before she had to be at the next “sex room.” She hid the cart in a closet and darted down a back hallway, staying clear of the cameras. Julie, the woman who supervised the daytime maids, was a real bitch. If she were caught sneaking away from her duties, she’d be assigned to the orgy rooms every day. Right now, they all took turns cleaning that nightmare. She swore they should get hazard pay to even go in those rooms.
She slipped through a doorway and hurried to the one-way mirror. She stared at the couple in the next room. From her first day here, she’d been curious about the activities at the club. She was twenty-four and wasn’t a virgin but she’d never, ever done some of these things.
The woman in the room below was tied to a table, legs spread and wearing some sort of leather outfit that left her large breasts free and her crotch exposed. She had shaved her pussy and her pink lower lips were swollen and glistening from her excitement. The man strolled around the table as if he had all night. He still had his pants on but had removed his shirt. His arms and chest were well defined but he had a slight paunch. His erection tented his pants and Annie felt wetness pool between her legs. She had no idea why watching this turned her on but it did. Ever since she’d accidentally barged in on that guy and girl in the Interview room, she couldn’t stop watching.
The man below ran his hand up the woman’s inner thigh, glancing over her pussy. The woman thrust her hips upward and Annie ran her own hand between her legs. The man’s mouth moved but Annie couldn’t hear anything and then he slapped the woman across the thigh hard enough to leave a red mark. Annie jumped. She wasn’t into that, but she couldn’t stop watching the woman’s face. At first, it’d contorted in pain but then it’d morphed into pleasure. The man hit her again and then bent, kissing the red welts—running his tongue across them as his fingers squeezed her nipple.
Annie clutched her thighs together, searching for some relief. Her panties were soaked. It wouldn’t take but a few strokes to make her come. She started to slide her hand into her pants.
“Having fun?” asked a deep voice from behind her.
She spun around, her heart dropping into her stomach. “Ah...I was just finishing cleaning in here.” Damn, she should’ve closed the door but she hadn’t expected anyone in this area. The rooms were off limits on this floor until tonight and she was the only one assigned to clean here.
He shut the door and locked it before strolling toward her. She’d seen him around the Club, but more than that she remembered him from the military photos her brother, Vic, had sent to her. She carried one of the three of them—Vic, Ethan and this guy, Patrick—in her purse. He’d been attractive in the picture, but now that he was older and in person he was gorgeous. He had dark green eyes, brown hair and a perfect body. He stopped so close to her his chest almost brushed against her breasts. She was pretty sure it would if she inhaled deeply. She really wanted to take that deep breath and feel his hard chest against her breasts.
“Don’t let me stop you from enjoying the show.”
“I...I wasn’t. I should go.” She started to walk past him but he grabbed her hand.
His grip was warm and strong but loose enough that she could pull free if she wanted. She didn’t. Even though she only knew him from her brother’s pictures and letters, she’d had many fantasies about him when she’d been in high school. Her gaze dropped to the front of his pants and her mouth almost watered. He was definitely interested. She dragged her eyes up his body, stopping on his face. He smiled at her.
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Watching turns us all on.” He kissed the back of her hand and she jumped as his tongue darted out, tasting her skin.
“I...I should go.” She didn’t move.
“No, you should watch.” He dropped her hand and grabbed her shoulders, gently turning her toward the mirror. He trailed his hands up and down her arms. “Watch.”
The man in the other room was now sucking on the woman’s breast as his fingers caressed her pussy.
“Would you like to hear them? Or do you like it quiet?” His voice was a rough whisper against her ear.
“Sound, please.” She wanted to hear their gasps and moans. She wanted to close her eyes and pretend it was her. She shifted, squeezing her thighs together.
He chuckled as he moved away. She felt his absence to her bones. He’d been strong and warm behind her and for a moment she’d felt safe, safer than she had since her brother had come back from the war, broken and sad, and her father had started drinking again.
The woman’s moans filled the room and Patrick came back to stand behind her, this time placing his hands on her waist.
“I’m Patrick,” he said against her ear.
She couldn’t take her eyes from the scene in front of her. The woman was almost coming as the man thrust his fingers inside of her.
“What’s your name?” He nipped her neck and she jumped.
“I...I...” If she told him her name, he might say something to Ethan. Ethan would kill her if he knew she was in here watching.
“Tell me your name.” His lips trailed along her neck and she tipped her head giving him better access.
The guy was kissing his way down the woman’s body. Annie wanted to touch herself, to make herself come but Patrick was here.
He nibbled her ear. “Why won’t you tell me your name?”
“I...I’ll get in trouble.” She rubbed her ass against his erection, hopefully giving him a hint.
“Tease.” His hand drifted down her stomach, stopping right above where she wanted him to touch. “Tell me your name or I’ll make you suffer.” He unbuttoned her pants and left his hand—warm, rough but immobile—resting on her abdomen.
“I can’t.” She stood on tip-toe, hoping his hand would lower a little but he was too tall or she was too short. He had to be almost six foot and she was barely five-foot four. “I could get fired and I need this job.”
“Darling, Ethan won’t fire you for fucking a customer.”
“We can’t.” She spun around. She hadn’t thought this through. He was her fantasy come to life and she wanted him to be hers just for a moment, but Ethan would find out and then she’d be in deep shit.
“Don’t worry. I’m a member and you work here, so we’re both clean.” He hesitated, his hands tightening on her hips. “Are you protected?”
“What?” She had no idea what he was talking about.
“Ethan makes sure everyone at the Club is clean but only the...some of his employees are required to be on birth control.” He ran his hands up her sides, getting closer and closer to her breasts. “Are you on birth control?” His eyes darkened as they dropped to her tits. “If not, it’s okay. There are other things we can do.”
Oh, she wanted to do everything his eyes promised, but she couldn’t. “No, I’ll get in trouble. I need this job. I have to go.” She tried to move but her feet refused to obey, so she just stared at his handsome face.
“Are you sure?” He bent so he was almost eye level with her. “I promise. Ethan won’t care. A lot of maids become...change jobs. The pay’s a lot better.” His eyes roamed over her frame. “Especially, for someone as cute as you.”
Ethan would kill her before letting her become one of his pleasure associates.
“I could talk to Ethan for you.” His hands moved up her body, stopping right below her breasts.
Her nipples hardened and she forgot everything but what he was making her feel. He ran his thumb over one of them and she leaned closer, wanting him to do it again.
He did. He continued rubbing her nipple as he spoke. “I could persuade him to let me...handle your initiation into club life.”
Her heart raced in her chest. It could be just her and him doing all these things she’d seen. Her pussy throbbed but she couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t do it. She couldn’t have sex for money. Her parents were both dead but they’d never understand and she couldn’t disappoint them. “No. I can’t do that...not for money.” Her eyes darted to the door. She needed to get out of there before she did something she’d regret.
“That’s even better.” He smiled as he stepped closer. “We can keep this between us. No money. Only a man and a woman.” He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Giving each other pleasure. A lot of pleasure. In ways you haven’t even imagined.”
There were moans from the other room and she glanced over her shoulder. The man’s face was buried between the woman’s thighs.
Patrick turned her around, pulling her against him and wrapping his arms around her waist. “Are you wet?”
“What? No.” She struggled in his arms, her ass brushing against his erection again.
“Oh fuck. Do that again.” He kissed her neck, open mouthed and hot.
She stopped trying to get away. She wanted this...this moment. She shouldn’t but she did, so she wiggled her butt against him again. He was hard and long and her body ached for him. It’d been too long she’d had sex. She needed this.
“Would you like me to touch you?” His hands drifted over her hips and down her thighs.
She’d like him to do all sorts of things to her. She nodded.
“Say it.” His words were a command she couldn’t disobey.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” He untucked her shirt from her pants.
“Touch me. Please.” She was already pushing her hips toward his hand. She wanted his hand on her, his fingers inside of her.
“Are you wet?” he asked again.
She inhaled sharply as he unzipped her pants.
“Don’t lie to me. I’ll find out in a minute.”
She’d never talked dirty during sex and she wasn’t sure she was ready to do that with a stranger. Her heart skipped a beat. Maybe, she shouldn’t be doing any of this with a stranger. She grabbed his hand. “Maybe, we shouldn’t.”
The woman below cried out and the man straightened, wiping his face and unbuttoning his pants.
“Watch. The main event is about to happen.” Patrick’s hot breath tickled her neck.
Her gaze locked on the man’s penis. It was large and demanding. He straddled the woman, grabbing his cock.
“Don’t you want to feel some of what they feel?” He nibbled on her ear and then neck. “I can help you.”
She may not know him, but she trusted him. He was a former marine. He’d been a good friend of Vic’s. He wouldn’t hurt her and she needed to come. She loosened her grip, letting go of his hand. He slipped inside her pants, caressing her pussy through her underwear. His fingers were long and strong. She closed her eyes, leaning against him as he stroked her.
“You’re already so wet and hot.” His breath was a warm caress on her ear. “But, I’m going to make you wetter and then, I’m going to make you come.” His other hand shoved her pants down, giving him more room to work. “Open your eyes and watch the show.”
She did as he said. The man was inside the woman, thrusting hard and fast. The woman was moaning and trying to move but the restraints kept her mostly helpless.
“Fuck, you’re soaked.” Patrick’s hand cupped her and she arched into his touch, rubbing her ass against his erection. He shoved his hand inside her underwear, his finger running along her folds until he slipped one inside.
“Oh.” She grabbed his hand—not to push him away, but to make sure he didn’t leave.
He smiled against her hair. “Don’t worry, baby. I won’t stop.” He stroked his finger inside of her and his wrist brushed against her clit.
She needed more. She needed to touch him, feel him. She turned her head, wrapping her arms up and around his neck. He kissed her. It was desperate and wild, but he stopped too soon.
“They’re almost done. You don’t want to miss it.”
She turned back to the mirror. The man below continued to fuck the woman as Patrick finger-fucked her. His other hand slipped under her shirt to her breast. His lips sucked her neck as he rocked his erection against her ass. He was everywhere, and she was so close. The muscles in her legs constricted. Her hips tipped upward.
“Wait, baby,” he groaned in her ear, as he pushed a second finger inside of her. “Just a few more minutes.”
His fingers were stretching her and it felt wonderful. She moaned, long and low as he thrust harder and faster, almost matching the pace of the man in the other room. She could almost imagine it was Patrick’s cock and not his fingers inside of her.
“Oh...oh,” she cried out. He was pushing her toward the edge. Her body was spiraling with each pump of his fingers. She was going to come—right here while watching that couple. It was so dirty and so wrong and it only made her hotter.
The woman below screamed and her body stiffened. The man thrust again and again and then grunted his release.
“Show’s over.” Patrick nipped her neck at the same time he pressed down on her clit with his thumb, sending her shooting into her orgasm.
She trembled and he pulled her close, his hand still cupping her pussy and his fingers still inside of her. When her heartbeat had settled, he removed his hand and bent, pulling off her shoes and removing her pants before lifting her and carrying her to the wall.
“My turn.” He wrapped her legs around his waist.
Her phone rang. “My work phone. I...I have to answer it.”
“When we’re done.” He unzipped his pants.
“Annie, answer the phone. I know you’re around here. I can hear it ringing you stupid bitch,” yelled Julie.
“Oh, shit.” She shoved Patrick away, and ran across the room, grabbing her clothes off the floor. “It’s my boss. She’ll kill me if she finds me like this.”
“I’ll take care of Julie.” He headed for the door, zipping up his fly. “Don’t move.” He grinned over his shoulder at her. “You can take off your pants again, but other than that, don’t move.”
“No. Please.” She raced over to him, grabbing his arm. “I need this job.” And Ethan could not find out about this.
“She won’t fire you. She can’t. Only Ethan can fire you.” He bent and kissed her.
His lips were gentle and coaxing this time and her body swayed into him. He pulled her even closer and she could feel his cock, thick and heavy, pushing against her. Her pussy tightened again in anticipation.
“Damn it, Annie. This is going to be so much worse if I have to call your stupid phone again. Get out here!” Julie was only a few doors down.
She grabbed Patrick and tugged on his hand. “Please, hide.” She glanced around, looking for somewhere that would conceal a six-foot muscular man.
“I’m not going to hide from Julie.”
––––––––
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Terry wandered through the crowd of well-dressed women and men at La Petite Mort Club. It was the same scene every time Ethan, his friend and owner of the Club, threw one of these events. The members mingled with the newbies, hoping to snag something different or someone interesting.
Ethan strolled casually toward him, a ready smile on his face as he greeted his guests. “Terry, about time you made it down here.”
“Like you can talk.” His friend spent most of his time in the back office, watching the Club on monitors.
“I’ve been mingling for over an hour.”
“It’s your business not mine.” He leaned against the balustrade, peering down on the crowd.
“True, but you could sell your practice and buy me out.”
“And run this place?” He laughed. “No thank you.” He tossed back his scotch. “I spend enough time here as it is.” He used to practically live here except when he was at the office or in court, but lately he’d been staying home more.
“Good turn out tonight.” Ethan waved at a waitress and a moment later they each had another drink.
“Yeah, but I don’t see one interesting person in this crop of wannabe members.”
“And you can tell if someone is interesting just by looking at them?”
“I can tell not one of them has an original thought. Look at them. They’re all in red.” The Club was awash in a sea of red dresses—short, long, dark, light but always red.
“It is a Valentine’s Day party.”
“I know but you’d think one woman”—he held up his finger—“one would consider that everyone else would be in red and wear a different color.”
“There are some pinks out there.”
“Same thing, just lighter.”
Ethan grabbed his phone from his pocket and looked at the text, frowning.
“Problem?” The Club was usually a safe place but on open night events, when Ethan allowed non-members access in order to recruit new members, the place could get dangerous.
“A little skirmish over a woman.” Ethan grinned, his blue eyes sparkling as a couple of young guys hurried past them, almost tripping in their haste to stay close to a group of very attractive women. “These youngsters haven’t learned that sharing is more fun.”
He ignored Ethan’s teasing. He’d taken a lot of shit from Ethan, Nick and even Patrick because he wasn’t into the sharing thing. He preferred it to be him and one woman, one sweet, little sub. Since he was in no mood to listen to any more crap, he’d change the subject. “Those kids barely look old enough to drink.”
“You’re showing your age.” Ethan patted his shoulder. “You should find some nice, young thing and teach her how to please her master.”
“Maybe I will, if any of them show enough originality to dress in something other than red.”
“I’ve got to go and sort out this problem.” Ethan slid his phone into his pocket. “I’ll find you later. If you find that elusive non-red dress, I’d suggest we share but...” He chuckled as he headed down the stairs, maneuvering through the crowd like he had nowhere to go, when in reality he was heading for the back—the playrooms.
Terry’s eyes stopped and lingered on the new hire, Desiree, who was moving around the room, talking and flirting with all the men and some women. She was interesting—exotic and smart—but there was a shrewdness behind her eyes that he’d learned a long time ago to avoid. A woman like her had an agenda and she stuck with it, no matter what.
Someone slammed into his back, causing his drink to spill down his front, staining his shirt and suit.
“Oh...oh, I’m so sorry.”
He spun around and encountered a red dress and breasts—milky white and lush. The skin would be fragrant and softer than rose petals.
“Oh. Your shirt. Let me get something to wipe that up.”
He forced his eyes away from those lovely breasts. Her hair was a rich mahogany. It’d probably hang past her shoulders in waves of curly silk but right now it was piled haphazardly on her head in what had been some kind of elegant style before disobedient strands had escaped their restraint. She looked mussed and damn it, he wanted to be the one to muss her.
“Paper towels? Napkins?” She glanced around and then hurried over to the bar.
She was short and curvy—her body succulent, ripe and he’d bet juicy. She grabbed a stack of napkins and headed for him. Her dress was too tight, like she’d recently gained some weight. He usually went for the tall, athletic types but for some reason his dick had picked this woman.
She returned to his side and dabbed at the wetness on his shirt and jacket as if she actually gave a shit about his clothes. This was no subtle caress, no flirtation—just indifferent efficiency.
“I’m so sorry.” She wadded the napkins in her hand, still patting at his clothes.
“You said that already.” His words came out gruffer than he’d meant. No one treated him with disinterest. He was a rich, successful, attractive man and she was treating him like a child. He wanted to pull up her—unfortunately, red—dress and fuck her right here. They were at the Club. It wasn’t out of the question.
Her hand froze. “Oh.” Her large hazel eyes looked startled and then hurt. “Sorry. Ah, excuse me.” She headed toward the stairs, dropping the wet napkins in the trash before disappearing in the crowd.
He turned around, so he could see the first floor and waited for her to appear. She hurried across the downstairs room, bumping and stumbling through the crowd. A lone, scared, little rabbit in a room full of predators. She stopped for a moment, scanning the crowd as if searching for someone.
“Who are you looking for, little rabbit?” he mumbled to himself. “A husband? Boyfriend?” He grinned as he lifted his scotch to his lips. “Girlfriend?” He frowned at the empty glass. “You spilled my drink. I’ll forgive you, but it’s going to cost you.” He waved at one of the waitresses. “Everything has a price, little rabbit.” As one of the best divorce lawyers in town, he knew that better than anyone.
The waitress brought him another drink. He paid, giving her a large tip before turning to find his little rabbit. He took a sip of the scotch, enjoying the smooth burn and his lush little bunny’s journey through La Petite Mort Club. She froze in her tracks, her jaw dropping open as she gazed at a threesome on one of the couches.
The woman was sandwiched between two men, stroking one’s cock as the other man fondled her beneath her red dress. The man behind her looked up and said something to the little rabbit. Her face heated and Terry’s eyes dropped to her chest. Yep, they were a pretty shade of pink but what he really wanted to know was if the color matched her pussy.
She stumbled away from the threesome, bumping into another man. It was Richard, who stopped her from falling and then immediately let her go, stepping away. She was safe with Richard. As a member of the Club and a gentleman, he knew that safewords were law and consent was absolutely necessary. She said something to Richard and continued through the Club, disappearing in the crowd.
“You’re not getting away that easily.” He followed along on the upper floor, keeping her in sight. He had no idea why but he wanted her. Maybe, it was simply because she was different than everyone else here.
He took another sip of his drink. It was obviously the little rabbit’s first time at a place like this but she didn’t seem eager to participate or interested in watching. She truly seemed to be looking for someone specific—not just someone to fuck. Well, she’d found the latter because he was going to fuck her. In the office he followed his head but at La Petite Mort Club his cock was king.
She headed toward the playrooms. There was no way he was going to miss this. He sauntered down the stairs, grabbing another drink on the way. She wasn’t hard to follow. She left a path of irritated people in her wake as she bumped into them and apologized profusely before hurrying forward. Her full, round hips swayed under her tight, red dress that’d seen better days—hem frayed and at least five years out of style. Not that he minded, especially the snug fit of the cloth, but his women were usually much more put tougher.
They were the CEO types—women who thrived on being in charge. He enjoyed teaching them how much fun turning over control could be. When they were with him, he was their Dom, their master and he made sure they loved every second. He told them when to kneel, when to suck, when to spread their legs or ass and when to come. The more power they had in their everyday life the more they craved bowing to his wishes. His little rabbit wouldn’t know what power was. She was a hot mess of a woman. Still, his dick wanted her, so his dick would have her.
She was hurrying out of the first playroom when he entered the hallway. Her eyes were huge and her cheeks were on fire. She ducked into the next room and quickly came out—even redder than before.
“Excuse me.” He’d offer his assistance in her search. She’d be grateful. He could capitalize on that unless she was looking for her husband or boyfriend. He wasn’t in the mood to share. He would, however, allow the other man to watch. He could give the guy some pointers on how to take care of his wife because this woman obviously needed guidance.
“You?” Her eyes narrowed.
That wasn’t the reaction he was used to. Women usually purred for him.
“Are you following me?”
“What would you do if I said I was?” He took a step toward her.
“I’d scream. There are bouncers here. I saw them.”
Lord, she was cute. “Yes, but if they came running at every little scream they’d die of exhaustion.”
As if to emphasis his point a woman screamed in ecstasy. His little rabbit’s face heated and she averted her gaze.
“Who are you looking for?” He ran his finger lightly down her cheek. Her skin was as smooth as porcelain but much warmer and softer.
“Ah...” Her breath hitched, making her breasts swell dangerously above her gown.
He could have her out of it in a minute. The skin would be even softer than that on her face. “Did you lose your husband?”
“No.” She licked her lips.
There was no way he could let that offer pass. He slowly bent, giving her time to refuse him. He may command his women but he made sure they always wanted it first. Her eyes dropped to his mouth and he couldn’t help a slight smirk. She wanted this as much as he did. He moved closer and let his lips rest gently on hers. He’d take it slow, make her yearn for him and then he’d make her obey.
“What are you doing?” She turned her head.
“Kissing you.” His lips brushed against her cheek. He wasn’t about to lose ground.
“Why?” She turned again, her eyes meeting his.
The confusion in her hazel gaze was as obvious as the hideous dress on her gorgeous body. She may remind him of a rabbit but she couldn’t be that naïve. She had to be in her mid to late thirties.
He should use flowery words—tell her she was beautiful, desirable—but that wasn’t him. Blunt was the kindest word to describe him. “Because, I want to.”
“You don’t even know me.”
He was losing ground. The interest in her face was being replaced with disgust. “No, but I know I want you.” Damn, he shouldn’t have said that.
“Well, too bad.” She pushed on his chest and he stepped back, letting her pass.
“This is a sex club, you know.” He followed. “If you aren’t here for sex, why are you here?”
She spun around. “I’m quite aware of what this place is and just because I don’t want you, a stranger to...to”—she waved her hand about—"in the hallway.”
He laughed. “We wouldn’t be the first. There are people fucking in the main room.”
“I know. I saw.” Her cheeks heated.
He stepped closer. “You are adorable.” He touched a strand of hair that was resting on her shoulder. It was like satin.
“I’m a mess.” She pulled her hair free from his fingers.
“A hot mess. A fiery, hot, sexy mess.” He moved closer with every other word. “One I want to fuck, right now.”
Her eyes hardened. “Too bad because I don’t”—again she waved her hand about—“you know, with strangers in the hallway.” She shoved his chest again.
He took a small step back but he wasn’t giving up yet. “We can go to a private room.”
“No.”
Shit. By the look on her face, he’d just made a bigger blunder.
“Let me go.” She pushed him again.
Damn. She’d said the worst three words in the English language besides I love you. He moved away, releasing her for the moment. “Sorry.”
She harrumphed.
“I made a mistake.”
“Yes, you did.” She hurried down the hallway but not before he’d seen the look of hurt in her large eyes.
“What the fuck do you want from me? I made a mistake and apologized.” He trailed after her.
“I want you to leave me alone. Please. Go away.”
He stopped. His little rabbit was running but perhaps, he shouldn’t chase. She darted down a hallway toward the hardcore BDSM rooms.
Normally, she’d be fine—embarrassed but fine. Except with all the newbies here, tonight wasn’t a normal night. He hurried after her. “Hey, I don’t think you want to go—”
“Leave me alone.” She walked faster. “I need to find my friend and get out of here.”
“Okay, but I don’t—”
“Go away.” She sounded both mad and as if she were going to cry.
“Suit yourself, but I warned you.”
She strode into the closest room. He should leave. Let her find out that he wasn’t the worst thing in a place like this, not in a long shot, but his feet followed her. She was his little rabbit. He’d found her. No one else was going to enjoy her until he’d had his taste.
“Vicky? Vicky? Are you in here?”
He stepped into the room, staying in the shadows. She was looking around in the dark for her friend. It only took a moment for one of the six guys to notice the little rabbit who’d stumbled into their den.
“Shit,” he mumbled. Not one of those guys was a regular.