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Standing in front of a mirror for the second time this evening, I don’t even recognize the woman staring back. The red silk dress hangs off my curves as if Poppy had my measurements when she designed it.
She is brilliant.
The two panels of fabric, attached at the shoulders, leave me feeling vulnerable, as there is a four-inch gap connected only by delicate leather straps laced down the sides. The alluring low cowl neck reveals my cleavage, making me feel naughty.
“You look like a goddess in all her glory. The bearer of new life, and a badass ready to whip her man into shape,” Poppy exclaims.
“Whip?” I say in a panic.
Poppy laughs and places a reassuring hand on my lower back. “Just a figure of speech. I know you and Jack are not here to take part, but to observe. At least now you look the part.” Poppy leans in close so only I can hear what she has to say next. “I reserved a private room if the two of you are so inclined.” Before stepping away from me, she playfully winks, then signals our departure from the room.
We make our way out to the main floor of the club. The music fills the air and the bass thrums in sync with my heart. I am nervous to finally be here, and the weight of what hangs over Jack and me only intensifies my anxiety.
The men are waiting for us, along with a tall handsome man with dark mahogany skin and a piercing stare that is set on Poppy.
“Mr. Thorne, this is Popeye and Olive Oyl.”
I cringe internally at the names Jack picked out for us. Though they are perfect.
Jack, dressed in a white shirt rolled up to the elbows, gray slacks, and brown leather suspenders, extends his hand. “Mr. Thorne.”
“Nice to finally meet you. And you, my dear.” He turns to me and his eyes graze over my body, hesitating at my waist for a moment before he smiles. Reaching for my hand, he pulls it to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “Poppy was excited to work on this dress for you. You are absolutely stunning.” My face reddens at the compliment. I feel stunning. I feel radiant.
Poppy sidles up to Mr. Thorne, who places his arm around her before she shoots him a nasty look and he drops his hand. Not sure what is going on there, but there is a history between the two of them. “Hawk, Lilla, your space is ready for you now,” she says.
In one fell swoop, Nate throws Violet over his shoulder and slaps her ass. He nods to Jack and me before he says, “We’ll be tied up in the back corner for a bit. See you two later.”
Jack and I stand awkwardly, the sound of laughter and music filling the main room as our friends weave their way through the crowded floor to partake in God knows what.
“Now, you two.” As Poppy steps in, she can sense the tension in the air, unsure of the dynamics at play between us. She shares a look with Mr. Thorne before turning back to us. “I need to step off the floor with Mr. Thorne for a moment. The bar is to the right. We have a lovely selection of non-alcoholic drinks.” They walk off the floor, already arguing with each other.
Being left with Jack, while my nerves are still frazzled, isn’t a good idea. I take it as a sign to walk over to the bar and order a mocktail. With my drink in hand, I turn to observe the room around me.
The space is separated into sections where there are many scenes taking place. Each scene involves at least two people engaging in bondage and submission while on-lookers gather around, either standing or reclining on the comfortable fawn-colored leather couches.
Jack orders a beer and presses against my side. “Harper—”
“Olive Oyl. There are rules,” I say, cutting my eyes to him.
He smirks. “I’m so sorry. About everything.”
“We can talk about it later.”
He takes my drink from my hand and sets it on the bar next to his beer.
“I love you, Harper. The last thing I would ever want to do is lie to you or mislead you in any way.” His eyes dart back and forth, assessing me, looking for my tells. The ones that indicate my emotions.
“But...”
“I did.”
“You did.”
“I’m sorry,” he says as he hangs his head.
“Did you get what you wanted?”
He lifts his head and looks me in the eye. “I did, for a moment.”
“Alright, let’s go,” Poppy comes out of nowhere. “I have a scene that would be great for beginners. She takes my hand and leads me across the floor to the back corner, with Jack following behind.
In this section, the dim lights create a cozy atmosphere, with a section of couches surrounding a softly illuminated wooden bench. A young woman in a black lace bra and matching panties sits still facing us. Her gaze is fixed on the floor, her hands gently resting on her lap, and her ankles elegantly crossed.
Poppy urges us to sit, and we do so, ensuring there is a necessary space between us. “If either of you needs me, I will be at the pulpit.” Pointing to the podium we passed on the way to the bar. Then she saunters away.
A crowd begins to form and Jack has to move over to allow more of the spectators to sit down. The space between us no longer exists, and I’m fully aware of my bare side pressing against his body. To keep from reaching out to him, I match the submissive on the bench by folding my hands on my lap and crossing my ankles.
A large man, about the size of Nate, walks around the bench like a predator stalking his prey, his eyes locked on the woman in front of us. There is an air of strength and calmness about him, a dominant presence in every way. Alpha male, as they would say in those romance books that Aubrey loves to read. Hell, I love them too. But there is a sexual tension here I wasn’t expecting.
I am not an idiot. I researched places like this online and picked Violet’s brain. Half of my prenatal appointments turned to this topic. I knew sex was involved, but watching this seems personal, intimate.
The dom stands behind his sub and her heart races. Her breathing increases and her once-folded hands are now a single clenched fist, her fingers intertwined as if she is trying not to reach out. I know the feeling. Her eyes are still low but they no longer focus on a single point, instead they flit back and forth.
Jack shifts closer to me, and I glance over as I feel his knee gently brush against mine. The woman sitting next to him on the other side is taking more space than she needs.
“Lie down, Tam.” The command left the dom’s body and I swear the bass from his voice was calling to everyone in this room, man and woman alike.
“I almost dropped to the floor,” I whisper in Jack’s ear.
“You and me both,” he softly laughs.
The sub twists around, her legs straddling the bench, and lies back. He straps her down and I catch myself leaning forward, getting sucked into the scene before us.
“Tamlin has been on a journey and tonight we are going to help her reach the end,” he says to the crowd before returning to the bound woman. “Tonight, you won’t call me Master. You’ll call me by my name. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Wyatt.”
“Good. Let’s begin.”
The woman next to Jack leans toward him. “What do you think her journey is?” Her hand rests on his arm.
He causally slips out from her grip and says, “I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”
Wyatt mischievously taunts Tamlin, twirling a crop that seemed to materialize out of thin air from a nearby rack. In my research, I stumbled upon a rack adorned with an assortment of crops, floggers, and paddles, just like the one set behind the bench. With each tiny scrape and slap, Tamlin gasps, as do many of the on-lookers. However, none louder than the woman next to Jack.
“Tamlin hasn’t had the pleasure of squirting and tonight I’m going to rectify that.”
The crowd cheers and the woman says loud enough for everyone to hear, “I’ve never squirted!” A few people laugh and she smiles at the attention while others are involved in their own personal moments. A few people sit in the laps of their partners, kissing and fondling. Clearly picking up the sexual tension in the room.
Wyatt slips his hand into Tamlin’s panties and rubs her clit and she cries out with pleasure.
“Holy shit,” I say under my breath. I wasn’t expecting it. I should have been, but holy hell, is it hot watching this all unfold. Jack’s arm stretches above my head to rest on the back of the couch behind me, his fingers resting on the tip of my shoulder, sending goosebumps down my back and arms.
“This is hot.” His warm breath dances along the skin of my neck. I am about to say something when he jolts. His hand grips my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. A hand, one that is not mine, now rests on his thigh, dangerously close to his cock. An intense feeling erupts from deep within me, and I can’t stop myself.
Leaning forward, I angle myself toward Jack and the woman. Feeling someone staring at her, she looks around before landing on me, her hand still on his leg. “Remove your hand,” I say clearly.
She smirks and says, “It’s fine.”
“Bitch, get your hand off my man’s leg.”
She lifts her hand dramatically and makes a shitty face at me, as if I just ruined the chance she had with him.
Fuck this.
I stand and step between Jack’s legs, sitting down as his arms wrap around me instinctively. The woman scoffs before she moves down the couch away from us. Clearly not needing the space she stole from Jack.
“What are you doing?” he asks as his hands slide up and down my thighs.
“We don’t need this.”
“What?”
I lean in, my breasts dangerously close to his mouth as I whisper in his ear. “You already know how to make me squirt. Come with me.” I stand, grab his hand, and pull him through the floor, making a beeline to the pulpit where we find Poppy.
“Was the scene not to your liking?” she says with a concerned look on her face.
“The scene was great, Poppy. But we’ll take that private room now.”
“Private room?” Jack asks, but I ignore him.
“You got it, babes.” Poppy grabs a set of keys and motions for us to follow her down the hall. She unlocks the door and tells us that the door will lock automatically when we enter and that we have the room until midnight.
Jack motions for me to walk in first, but when he shuts the door behind him, I slam him against it. My mouth on his, taking whatever I can get from him. He grips the hair at the nape of my neck and pulls back, and I release a pitiful whimper. He nips my bottom lip before forcing his tongue into my mouth. Breathless, I break the connection and step back. My eyes rake over his body, from his dark curls to his strong shoulders... all the way down to his bulging cock.
I sit on the couch and wait.
“Harper, I—”
“Kneel.” Without hesitation, he drops to the floor. With a quirked eyebrow, he smirks before lowering his head like the submissive did not long ago.
“Good boy.”
His chest heaves rapidly, rising and falling with each breath. As I extend my foot towards him, he gently grasps it to remove my shoe, placing my bare foot on his thigh. He repeats this with the other foot. Rubbing his hands together, he then slides them up my legs, rubbing my calf muscles. I let out an involuntary moan and immediately shut my eyes.
Jack’s hands slip under my dress as they continue to caress my legs and now my thighs. His fingertips edge along the fabric of my panties, dangerously close.
“Do you like that? Am I pleasing you, mistress?”
“Yes,” I say breathlessly. “I’m not angry.”
“I fucked up so badly, Harper. How could you not be?”
“When did you turn the notification off?” I watch as he winces at the reminder of what he has done.
“The night before the storm,” he looks at me as something funny crosses his mind and he chuckles to himself, “when you thought I was watching porn at work.”
“What?!”
“Sorry baby, I don’t watch porn at work. I just manipulate the life of my best friend, force her to live with me, spending day and night reminding her that we are perfect for each other. All until that one special moment, when she’s in distress, and I swoop in like a knight in shining armor.”
His confession slips from his lips with ease, and an invisible weight lifts off his shoulders. His hands continue to rub away aches that settled into my muscles. The heat from his hands sinking into my skin. With each pass, his knuckles brush against my core.
My panties are now soaked.
“Why?” I whisper. Stopping, his hands grip my thighs as he leers up at me.
“You gave me reason to.”
* * *
An aspirin and a bottle of water later, I tuck her in to sleep it off. Turning to find my way to the couch, she grasps my hand and tugs me close to her, murmuring incoherently before stringing some words together.
“We make the most beautiful babies. Right? I wanna make more babies with you.”
Harper’s drunken confession leaves me speechless. Her words make my heart race, though I can’t forget the scent of vermouth on her breath.
“We do make beautiful babies, Harper,” I whisper.
“Then we should do it. Fuck all this friend bullshit. I love you and I love your cock.” She snuggles into the pillow and brings the blanket up under her chin. “I miss your cock. You never share him with me anymore.” Her eyes flutter closed before whispering again. “I love you, Jack.”
“Tell me that again in the morning.” I brush the hair off her face. “I love you too.”
“I don’t remember any of that, Jack.” My hand cups his chin, bringing his eyes to meet mine.
“Was is true?” Brown eyes, wide and terrified, plead with me to ease his guilt but he has nothing to feel guilty about.
“Every single word.”
Jack’s face lights up as a smile spreads across his face before he brings his lips to mine. Softer this time. I haven’t seen a smile like that since he first held Silas, and my heart bangs against my ribcage. He has confessed, and now it’s my turn. Using a delicate touch, I apply pressure to his chest, gradually pushing him away.
“I stopped taking the pill a week before the storm.”