The decision is easy on where we’re going to eat. What I’m not set on is whether I can do what she’s asking. Society X has paid my way through law school. The money I earn is enough to pay rent, my bills, and tuition. Kennedy is asking me to go against my employment contract and spy for her. After dinner, her and I have to sit down and work out a contract. There is no way I can put my job on the line.

I follow Kennedy back to her house and pull my car in behind hers in her driveway. It almost seems like a surreal moment, almost like we’re sharing a house and life, and coming home at the same time from the office. I try not to let my thoughts get the best of me, except I can’t help it. Kennedy is in front of me with her pencil skirt accentuating her perfect ass as she climbs the stairs to her house and all I can think about is gripping it in my hands while I pump into her.

She turns and sizes me up. I smile, knowing she can figure out what’s on my mind. I can’t help it. There’s something about her that I can’t put my finger on, but have a feeling that she’s going to be someone in my life for a long time.

“I’ll grab the take out menus,” she says after dumping her briefcase on the table by her door. I set mine there as well and place my keys next to hers.

The thoughts running through my mind should have me running for the hills, but seeing our keys side by side really makes me think that I should start thinking about settling down. I know my grandmother would like to see me married before she dies. As she always reminds me, she’s no spring chicken.

“What would you like to eat?” She walks down the hallway with her hand full of menus and her ‘come fuck me, Hunter’ heels tapping against her wood floor. I thought I ate out a lot, but damn she has me beat. She fans the menus out and looks at me, silently asking me to draw blindly from her pile.

“You,” I say as I pull her to me. She giggles and drops the menus on the floor as my lips find her neck.

“We can’t have sex, Hunter.”

“Why not?”

Squirming out of my arms, Kennedy slaps my shoulder. “I’m hungry and we have work to do. I was serious about what I said at the office. I need your help with this case.” She doesn’t say anything about the contract and I know it’s going to be up to me to bring it up. The problem is I don’t want things to be awkward. I mean, how the fuck do you ask your new boss—who also happens to be the woman you’re sleeping with—to guarantee your future? It’s not even a pleasant thought, me having to ask Kennedy to do me a solid and protect me. Makes me look fucking weak, but I can’t show her. Hell, I don’t even want to see it myself.

“Okay, let’s order.” Grasping her hand, I lead her into the kitchen where she has a small table. We spread out the menus and decide on Italian. She calls in our order while I grab our briefcases and bring them back into the kitchen.

“Do you want a glass of wine?”

“Yeah, I’ll take one if you’re having one.” I’m not much of a wine drinker, but I don’t want to assume she has beer in her refrigerator either.

While Kennedy pours our wine, I set up my laptop. Working is the last thing I want to do right now. I’d rather sit on the sofa with her next to me with the lights dimmed and the television on just for the background lighting. I may be a stripper, but do have a romantic side, and working through dinner is not romantic.

But I get it. She has an important case and I’m her intern. Technically, I’m Chris’, but I still work for the firm. Kennedy places my wine glass down and sits across from me. Her legs instantly rub against mine and a smile spreads across my face.

“How do you not have a girlfriend?”

“Excuse me?” I ask, looking over the top of my laptop. “I thought you were my girlfriend.”

Kennedy is unable to hide her smile even though she’s trying to be serious. “I’m not talking about now, but before …”

“Are you saying that I’m good looking?”

She pulls out her laptop and opens it, hiding behind her screen. “All I’m saying is that your glasses distract me.”

It’s not the first time I’ve been given a compliment about my glasses, but I never knew they were a distraction. Kennedy telling me this is something I’m going to use in my advantage. The next time we fuck I’ll wear them and make sure she’s on top. We’ll see how distracted she’ll be then.

“Do you want me to take them off?”

“Can you see without them?”

I shrug noncommittally, not really giving her an answer. I can see without them, but I like that I can make her squirm. If I’m not mistaken I hear her groan, but before I can say anything she’s taking a folder full of papers out of her bag and placing them in the middle of the table.

“Let’s talk about the case.”

When she goes to open the file, I put my hand down on it. “Before I take this step I need the contract, Kennedy. I can’t risk my job like this.”

She nods, returns to her laptop, and starts typing. The doorbell rings and I offer to grab dinner. When I return to the kitchen, she’s gone, only to come back in carrying a set of papers.

“Here’s your contract,” she states, handing it to me.

We swap; I take the paper in her hand and she takes the food. Kennedy filters around the kitchen while I read. She’s offering me a one-year position at full salary in the event I lose my job as a part of this case. In exchange I work for her twenty-four-seven until the case is solved. The clause at the ends says I must reapply for this job after one year, assuming I have satisfactorily passed the bar exam. Kennedy has already signed it, leaving a space for my signature next to hers. I read it over again before adding my name to the solid black line. The one-year salary is more than I make at Society X and I’d be foolish to pass this up.

By the time I’ve read and signed the contract, my dinner is waiting for me on the table. My wine glass has been refilled even though I’ve barely taken a sip. If I’m thinking this is going to be a romantic dinner for two, I’m mistaken—the file is open and pictures are spread out on the table.

“You were sure I was going to sign?”

Kennedy glances up at me as I hand her the paper. “You’re a smart man, Hunter. What I’m offering has to be more than what you make at the club. If not, I’ll make sure it is.”

“It’s plenty,” I tell her. Any of the other guys, if given this chance, would’ve asked for more. Working this closely with Kennedy not only gives me the chance to learn from her, but to be with her more. Both are bonuses in my book.

 

 

Society X is an elite club that allows you to explore your sexual fantasies, be someone you’re not anonymously and find ways to take your encounters with your partner to a whole new level. I’ve never thought of it any differently until now.

As soon as I step in the back door my stomach starts to roll. Everything that Kennedy told me the night before sits heavily with me. So much so that I passed up a night of being buried between Kennedy’s legs to just hold her.

I knew people came to Society X to cheat on their spouses, it’s a given. Sex clubs, strip joints, they all have the same stigma and it’s not going to be any different because of status. I suppose deep down I didn’t want to know it was happening here, or that my co-workers were involved. But then again, why wouldn’t we be at the center of the issue? We can’t get into trouble here. We aren’t the cause of the underlying marital issues.

However, we aren’t the answer either. I suppose working at a place like this you become numb. It’s not like we’re asking questions before we get down and dirty. We’re paid to bring others pleasure and right about now that sounds sick.

The schedule for tonight hangs on the wall. I reach for it and pray that I am not in any of the rooms. Last night, as Kennedy was telling me about her client, Jennifer, and how devastated she is, I saw a look in Kennedy’s eyes that told me the same thing … she would be hurt if I were with someone else, job or not.

I let out a huge sigh when I see that I’m only dancing. Easy. I won’t have to decline any rooms and draw suspicion to myself. Before I get to work, I walk over to the female side and survey the crowd of men in attendance. The room is packed, making it difficult to see each and every face there.

Anger boils within, making me want to grab each guy by the lapels and ask them if they’re married, and if so, do their wives know they’re here? But I realize I’m not any better than the men sitting here, watching my co-workers take off their clothes or partaking in a lap dance. I’ve seduced countless women and never batted an eyelash about doing it because they were paying me. I was giving them what they wanted and enjoyed every single second of it.

I give up after three or four walks through the crowd. From the picture Kennedy showed me, the one I focused on memorizing, the man I’m looking for is blond, medium build, and average. There wasn’t anything striking about him, except I could see in his eyes that he doesn’t give a shit, which unfortunately are half the men here.

Most of the men are ignoring the fact that I’m looking right at them. They move to the side so they can see better—some even give me a dirty look, silently asking me why I’m blocking them from seeing the stage. Unless Jennifer’s husband, Chad, is in this room with a sign that says ‘I’m using the viewing room to cheat on my wife’, I’m never going to find him.

I go back to the schedule and scan the rooms to see who is performing a threesome tonight. Donnie has three of the four scheduled and I fume at the thought that Kennedy may be watching any of them. Watching. She’s only watching and not for pleasure … except it’s impossible not to be affected by that shit.

“What’s up, Hunter?” Donnie pats me on the shoulder as he passes by. His dick is hanging out of his underwear, seemingly forgotten that he didn’t cover back up before exiting the stage.

“Just being jealous of your talents, man. Three in the viewing room tonight!” I play it off the best I can.

Grabbing himself, Donnie winks. “Hazards of the job, man. I’ve been here a long time.”

“Don’t you get tired of it?”

“Nah,” he replies, shaking his head. “The way I see it, I’m a fucking sexual therapist.”

“Interesting concept.”

Donnie pulls out the chair, thankfully covering up his dick. “These women, and sometimes men, come in needing a fantasy fulfilled, but don’t know how to do it without the help of the club. They know I’m not going to ask their name or want to fucking call them in the morning. They also know I’m clean, so the anxiety of wondering if you can trust your partner is taken off their chests. They come here because they don’t want their neighbors knocking on their door, bringing over a fucking casserole while the chick has a dick buried in her pussy and sometimes asshole, or having to use their name at a hotel where someone might know them.”

“What about the men who come in to live out the fantasy of a threesome or being watched?”

He moves to the mirror and starts reapplying the lotion we use. “Rare, but it happens. You gotta remember, people who are using the rooms aren’t getting something at home. If a dude wants a threesome and his wife is saying no, chances are he’s going to find a way to get one.”

“And you think that’s okay?”

Donnie catches my gaze through the mirror and frowns. Turning, he comes toward me. “Are you getting all philosophical on me?”

I shake my head and hang the schedule back up. “Nah, just working through some shit. My neighbor thinks her boyfriend is cheating on her and it got me wondering.”

“Is he a member here?”

“No,” I laugh him off. “They live in my apartment complex, there isn’t any way he can afford to be a member. Besides, she doesn’t know I work here.”

“She probably wants your dick, Hunter. I bet she’s crying on your shoulder, making your insides all weak so you’ll fuck her. Be sure to wrap that shit before you do. The last thing you want is a pissed off boyfriend and a baby on the way.” Donnie shakes his head again and goes back to the mirror, admiring himself.

“Ever fuck a guy?”

He grabs his dick and nods toward me. “You wanting some of this?”

“Fuck no,” I say sternly. “I don’t swing that way, man.”

Chuckling, he turns back to the mirror. “I prefer chicks, but if the customer wants my dick up his ass who am I to say no?”

“Right, makes sense. I hope the crowd is good tonight.”

“It will be,” he replies, winking at me as he leaves the dressing area.

Spying for Kennedy is going to be hard. Donnie is tight-lipped about his clients, as he should be, and the only way I’m going to know if Chad is signed up is by happenstance. There has to be another way to find out who he’s partnering with, unless he’s bringing his own women in. That is something Kennedy and I didn’t discuss. Any member can use the viewing room, with another member. Kennedy just assumed it was with staff.

Pulling out my cell, I call her.

“Did you find something?”

I try not to let my heart drop to the floor with thoughts that she’s using me—that maybe she’s been using me from the start.

“Only that I’m dying to have you spread wide beneath me, does that count?”

“Yes,” she laughs.

“I’ll take care of you tonight, I promise.”

“Glad to hear it. But in all seriousness, did you have any luck?”

“Not really. Donnie is our best bet, but you need to consider that Chad may be bringing in people from the outside. Any member can use the room, and if they have a guest pass they can bring in non-members. He may be using the viewing room to cheat with another member of the club, and by the amount of dates in his calendar, it’s probably cheaper here than at a hotel.”

Kennedy sighs. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

“That’s why we’re a great team. In more ways than one.”

“Yes, that’s true. I’ll see you later.”

We hang up and I pocket my phone. The last thing I want to do is go to work tonight, for either job.