The Delaney Club.
Fuck! What the hell was I thinking—agreeing to that little contest between Tabitha and I?
What was my grandmother thinking? And getting married? Geeze, she must have been smoking some high-class weed to think that was a good idea.
Wouldn’t be the first time, Delia made some freakishly outlandish decision on my behalf—although some of those decisions turned out sweet if I do say so myself. When I was fifteen, she’d caught me masturbating in my tree house. I’d actually had one of those life-sized blow-up dolls I’d conned one of my friends older brothers to buy for me online. I spread shaving cream all over the doll’s mouth just so it would feel slick when I stuck my dick in it. Lame, I know, but I was just a sexed up kid. It was the only lubricant I could get my hands on. After Delia stopped laughing so hard the tears ran from her eyes, she actually bought me a hooker. A…real….fuck my virgin cock off….hooker! And not just any hooker.
Samantha!
She was twenty-one, an older woman with soft curves and supple tender lips. All of them. Long black hair nearly brushed her perky ass and her smile was exquisite. She took her time with me, showed me how to please a woman for which I was grateful. A little too grateful. For a time we had a regular gig going on. Every Wednesday. Before piano practice but after dinner. I had so much sex at fifteen, my dick started to smile. So did my friends when I told them I’d given up every kind of sport in favor of piano.
Come to think of it, why my grandmother now thought I was gay was beyond me. Maybe she didn’t. She may have said that just to get my goat.
Sex with Samantha was exhilarating and free. At fifteen, I thought I was in love. That is until I met my wife. Boy, was that a mistake.
When I turned twenty I married Agatha Grimsley. Against my grandmother’s wishes I might add, but we were in love and nothing could stop us. We eloped on Valentine’s day, but by Christmas of the following year I caught her with another man and doing drugs. After I got over my anger, I tried to get her psychiatric help, but of course she wouldn’t go for it. I tried to end the marriage, but she said she would die if she couldn’t love me anymore. So I to give her money. That was a mistake too because you can’t buy off a schizophrenic. When she changed her mind and took the cash, I thought my worries were all over.
I was wrong.
Poor Samantha had stopped by to tell us she was getting married and starting a new life. Agatha stopped by just before, picking up some luggage she’d left behind. When she saw Samantha, she went insane, but I didn’t know that at the time because I was taking a shower. She snuck up behind the poor girl and stabbed her with a butcher knife. I heard the commotion and lots of shouting. The knife slashed in my direction as I walked out in a towel.
Six months later Agatha was behind bars serving three life sentences. Samantha survived, but we never saw her again.
So, yeah. Marriage was not for me so why did Delia insist upon it? I had no idea and I didn’t much care.
I ducked inside an empty room just as Elizabeth and the date were getting ready to leave her room. I could still hear them as they passed by, muttering about the weather, and any other inane conversation to break the silence.
I hopped down the back staircase, taking the steps two at a time until I reached the parking garage under the hotel. When I found my parked silver Porsche, I got inside and turned the key inside the ignition. As the engine roared to life, I pulled up leaving a few car lengths behind the limo. I was just in time to see the driver get out. He opened the door for Elizabeth and she got in.
God, she had gorgeous legs. Impossibly long in a tight leather skirt. So short in fact, I had a glimpse of her flesh-colored panties encasing that smooth pink pussy—my jaw tightened and my hands formed into fists. Wait! Were those flesh-tones or was she going commando?
Holy fuck!
Now, not only was I unhappy that the woman I was possibly falling in love with was dating another guy, but I needed to deal with my raging hardon. My cock had gone stone fucking hard—seeing her all dolled up like that. For him!
I imagined she dressed that way for me. Only me.
I could see my hands sliding up inside her skirt, my fingers hooking the elastic of her panties, skimming the mound with my thumbs before sliding the thin lace down her legs. Then she’d straddle me, take me deep inside her. Bury me tip to hilt while she promised everything was for me. Always forever for only me.
I imagined fucking her inside the limo while we kissed and groped in the back seat. Those long gorgeous curls would fall over her face. Half concealing. Half on fire. Until she couldn’t take it anymore and she threw her head back.
I could almost feel her in my ear, all breathy and filled with longing. Begging me to make her come.
Faster.
Deeper, Damon.
Please.
My cock throbbed as I thought about how she’d rip the top of her dress down so I could play with her tits. I’d fondle and suck their little nubs and then pull back to watch them bounce while she pounded on my cock. I slipped down in the car, groaning as I felt the bulge begin to grow. Unzipping my pants so I could breath, I saw a wet spot in my boxers.
Fuck! I was a spying on her with another man. I was a damn spy and I’d almost come inside my pants again. I needed to stop this shit. What was I, a fucking stalker? I took a deep breath, trying to clear my mind. The only thing that made me feel better about all this, was I’d promised Jason I’d keep Liz safe from this moron in case the whole date went south. He actually wanted to pay me. That made me laugh, especially when he insisted I needed the money.
If he only knew what a joke that was. In the real scheme of things, the Club was small potatoes. My real money was wrapped up in stocks, bonds, an oil company or two, and even a dance studio for the very rich. I guess my little charade of appearing hapless and hopeless around clients worked out pretty well. Jason said he trusted me. I’ve no idea why. Unless it was because he’d gotten the impression I couldn’t possibly be interested in his sister. Life was weird. Jason and I had become fast friends, but rather than have someone he knew and trusted show Elizabeth a good time, he’d picked a total stranger based on some stupid list he and Liz cooked up.
The limo turned onto Maple and Vine with me right behind them. I had to speed up so I wouldn’t get stuck behind the light. When they pulled up in front of the Lafayette Restaurant, I relaxed a little. At least he wasn’t taking her on a deserted dirt road. The guy had money but he also had class. Lafayette was one of the best known restaurants on this side of town, the service impeccable with a perfect view of the White House.
I turned off my car and slid myself down so I wouldn’t be seen. I couldn’t go inside because Jason didn’t want Liz seeing me which seemed like a pretty good plan. I figured I’d just wait, make sure she looked okay when they left the restaurant. Wasn’t crying or anything, and follow them back. How long could it take to have dinner, right?
Turned out, an hour and fifteen was all it took, which I found odd for the Lafayette. This was the place to be. It was an establishment that catered to presentation as well as strange cuisines. It usually took that long just to get through the appetizers. My heart lurched and I almost bolted from the car when I saw her face as she stepped out the door. She looked scared shitless and I didn’t know why.
Then I saw the object of her anxiety. A man who looked around sixty was waving a cigarette around near Liz’s face. He wore a charcoal grey suit which didn’t exactly match the white scruffy beard and brown slouch hat perched on his head. He looked like a cross between a refugee and a criminal from Texas.
Elizabeth’s face was beet red, but not because of fear. Her apprehension had turned to rage the minute the bugger put a hand on her arm. I swear I saw lightning flash from her eyes. Whoever this guy was, she certainly didn’t like him. As she shook his hand off her arm, Tom came to her rescue, getting in the guy’s face and raising a his fist in warning. Liz and the slouch hat guy appeared to be arguing. Then the li
mo pulled up. As the driver got out to open the back door, the slouch hat guy sneered, flicked his cigarette into the bushes, and stormed back inside the restaurant.
Chapter FIFTEEN
Elizabeth
I checked myself in the full length mirror of my very spacious living quarters, thinking how very scandalous I felt in such a tiny, tiny bikini. It was even skimpier than the one I wore around Damon. Jet black and soft against my skin, it had three six inch spaghetti straps instead of ties that hugged my hips with a plunging neckline and cups that literally pushed me up and over, giving the illusion of more cleavage than I actually had. On a whim, I’d purchased the suit in one of the gift shops, taking the advice of the sweet sales girl when she told me it brought out my auburn highlights, made my green eyes sparkle, and looked lovely next to my tanned perfect skin. I knew she was only trying to make a sale, but I told myself she was right. Even when she told me I’d get every man’s attention. Good. I wanted attention. I loved how it made me feel. I felt voluptuous and hot. Very, very hot.
As I left my room, I saw Tom going around the corner. I flattened myself against the wall hoping he didn’t see me. The last thing I wanted was his attention. Maybe that made me a bitch but I didn’t care. The whole time we were together, I couldn’t stop thinking about Damon. Damon’s tongue between my legs. Damon’s mouth all over me. Damon’s’ everything. Then I thought of that blonde I saw him with. So gorgeous and petite with platinum blonde hair and tits so perky they just about poked through her shirt. When I thought of Damon’s hands all over her, I thought I would be sick.
Waiting with a towel draped around my neck, I pushed the round button between the elevator doors, watching it blink to life.
God, this metal square box made my heart rev out of control. Jason would have a fit if he knew what I was thinking right now about his friend He’d tried to be a good brother. Really he had, but how could he know the date with Tom would be a fiasco? Not due to anything Tom said or did. He was a perfect gentleman, minus the part about failing to call ahead for a table. I was grateful for the way he handled my stepfather too.
When the doors whooshed open, I found Damon standing there in a grey sleeveless sweatshirt. Muscles rippling. Body contracting as he leaned forward. Smelling of moist skin and heated pores. Damn, he looked sexy with all that sweat pouring down his face. His eyes scraped the length of me. “Elizabeth…”
I noticed a rise inside his trousers. Shit, could I get any more horny? I almost threw my arms around his neck right then and there. Begged him to taste me once again.
“Going somewhere,” he asked in that deep husky voice that melted me into a puddle.
“I was just going to take a swim. You know? Practice, practice, practice! Can’t be a shark if I swim like a guppy.”
He chuckled, probably thinking what a nerd I was.
“Great but… there’s just one little problem.” He pinched his thumb and forefinger together and at first I thought he was referring to my bikini. “It’s better I show you I guess.”
“Show me. Show me what?” Anything this man had to show me got me excited in more ways than one. My nipples tightened almost painfully. I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Not that,” he said smiling. The heat in my face intensified and I took a step closer as the other people in the elevator made their way around us. We looked at each other for a long time, I—wondering if we should get back in the elevator and do a repeat performance and he—by the looks of the tiny tent inside his shorts thinking exactly the same thing. “Actually, right now is not good but hold that thought.”
I will, but not too long!
“Come with me.” When he took my hand, I marveled at how right we felt together. Besides my nipples feeling stiff and wanting desperately to pull that drawstring that was holding up his shorts, I loved how the skin of my palm felt inside his leathery one. Like we’d held hands our entire lives. It was….comforting. I’d never felt that way with a man before. I think he felt it too, because he took a minute to smile at me before we continued out of the lobby and walked down to the pool.
As we walked into the sunshine, we were assaulted by children’s’ voices and so much laughter it made me smile.
Damon’s face positively beamed. It was clear how much he loved kids. They were everywhere. At the bar eating hot dogs and hamburgers. On the grass playing badminton. But most of them were in the pool. Teenagers and small ones. All frolicking in the clear blue water—like it was the most wonderful place on earth. Some were on other kid’s shoulders rough housing and trying to push each other off. A long string of teenagers waited in line at the diving board.
“Wow,” I said, tickled there was so much fun going on in what was usually a very neglected pool.
“Great, isn’t it?” Damon said. “Watch this.” He let go of my hand, took a few steps back and canon-balled into the deep end of the pool. Water went everywhere and I found myself drenched from head to toe. I wasn’t upset though. In fact, I burst into laughter..
As his head poked up, water dripping from his lashes, he lunged forward trying to dunk a teenage boy. When I thought what a great dad he’d make one day, a warm feeling went through me. I’d never thought that way about a man before. Not even with my three husbands. Why was that, I wondered. I liked kids. I liked them a lot, actually.
Damon swam over to the side of the pool. “Come here, Liz.” With a crooked finger, he beckoned me toward him. When I leaned down to see what he wanted, he wrapped his arms around my neck, pulled me into a huge sloppy kiss while pulling me into the water. Taken by surprise, I shrieked at the top of my lungs.
We both came up sputtering and laughing.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” I said when I’d recovered enough to form a few coherent words. “Who are all these kids?”
“They come from all over really. Some are from foster homes or the big brother, big sister programs. And this little guy is Terrance.” He ruffled the hair of the boy he’d been trying to dunk.
“Hi Terrance.” He didn’t answer or maybe he didn’t hear me and then spun off toward the deep end.
“He can’t speak,” Damon said. “Hasn’t said a word since he saw his father shot.”
“Oh my god. That’s awful.”
“It happens.”
“So who pays for them to come here?”
“I do. Sort of.”
“You?”
“I don’t charge them anything to be here and most of them go home at the end of the day.”
“How the heck can you afford that, Damon? How is it that on your salary as a trainer you can…”
“Because I own the club.”
“Wait. What?”
I was still in his arms but I wriggled myself free. Staring, it was as if I were seeing him for the first time. Damon Donovan. Dedicated yoga and exercise instructor. Body Builder. Player and lover of women— had a soft spot for disadvantaged kids. Who knew? And he had a bit of money. He had to.
“You have no idea how free it makes me feel to tell you the truth.”
“You mean about the kids?”
“No. That I’m not a poor shmuck getting all sweaty every day. I have money, Liz. A lot of it. The classes are a hobby for me. A hobby I enjoy sometimes more than anything else. But still, it’s just a hobby.”
I was taken aback. He’d never actually told me anything to the contrary. I just assumed.
“So you’re telling me you own the Delaney Club?”
“Yup. Well, part of it. My grandmother owns the controlling half.”
So that was why Delilah turned a blind eye when she saw us get out of the elevator.
“What else haven’t you told me?” I was feeling a little betrayed, even though it made no sense to feel that way. He hadn’t lied to me. Not really.
“Not much. I…”
As if on cue, that gorgeous blonde came strolling on deck. She was wearing a peach and avocado sundress that hugged her curves a. Cork wedge heels elongated he
r slim legs. The texture of her hair was even more beautiful than I’d remembered. Gold and silky. Not a strand out of place. To be honest, the woman was stunning especially when the sun shimmered overhead like it was doing right now. Of course Damon would be attracted to her. What man wouldn’t be? My heart squeezed in my chest and suddenly I felt foolish for even thinking I had a chance with him.
Damon swam to the side of the pool where the blonde crouched down to talk to him but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. I knew how I felt though. Like I wanted to scratch her eyes out or maybe get that freaking perfect hairdo all wet and sloppy. Of course I couldn’t do any of those things. All I could do was watch him move toward her, notice how close their faces were, their lips only inches away. He could have kissed her if he wanted to, but he didn’t. For some reason I felt he wouldn’t. I didn’t know why I thought that, but I did. There was something…familiar about the way they looked together. I lifted a hand to my face, feeling the heat there, my stomach in knots. When they started laughing, confusion wrestled in my brain.
The conversation only lasted five minutes and Damon was back at my side.
“So let’s practice our dead float,” he said. I couldn’t look at him. I didn’t want to give myself away, but I was feeling insecure and a little bit…jealous?
“I’m…I’m not feeling well,” I said, making my way toward the stairs.
“Liz?”
I kept walking refusing to turn around.
“Liz… Something wrong?”
“What? No!” I lied.
“There is. I can tell you’re upset, but I don’t know why. Talk to me.” His voice was calm, full of concern. We didn’t have dibs on each other and I felt stupid for being jealous.
“Liz… please.”
I tightened my resolve, willing the hurt to go away. I simply needed to accept facts, that we were hot for each other, and when I looked into those gorgeous blue eyes of his I was doing what I always did, seeing something that clearing wasn’t there. There never was.
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