Beneath These Lies

by Meghan March

  From my front window, I watched as a black Escalade drove up the street. I left my front porch lights on as I slipped out the portico door and strolled down my driveway to my path, an extra sway in my hips.

  The blacked-out SUV slowed to a stop and the back door opened from the inside. I pushed through the gate and crossed the sidewalk to the curb before placing my foot on the running board. I climbed up inside, pulling the door shut behind me.

  The Escalade rolled forward, but my eyes were on Rix. He was dressed as I’d never seen him before, in a charcoal-gray three-piece suit, a crisp white shirt, and a silver tie that matched his eyes.

  Wow.

  “Am I underdressed?” I asked, glancing down at my black mini and royal-blue silk blouse.

  Rix’s gaze started at my feet and slowly rose to my face. Devouring. That was the word for what his eyes were doing to me.

  “You look beautiful.”

  His simple compliment filled me with warmth and even more excitement for the night ahead. “Thank you. You look . . . wow.”

  The smile on my lips came easily, naturally, and even though I had no idea where we were going or what we were doing, I was ready—because I was with him.

  “I clean up all right once in a while.”

  “I’d say more than all right.”

  Rix curled two fingers toward me, motioning me closer. I moved to the middle seat and he slid a hand into my hair, closing his fingers around the back of my neck. It was becoming his habit, and I was getting used to it. More than used to it, I was growing to crave it.

  “I need a taste, but your lips look too perfect to touch.”

  Instead of kissing my very shiny red lips—a bold choice for me—his mouth skimmed my jaw, the shell of my ear, and then down to my throat. Shivers rolled through my body, goose bumps prickling my skin with anticipation of more. I pressed my thighs together as his teeth scraped where his lips had trailed.

  My movement wasn’t lost on Rix, and his hand slid to my thigh. “Fuck, you’re a hot piece, duchess.” His words curled around my ear and added to the shivers.

  And then I remembered the driver. I jerked my head up and swung it toward the windshield. The man looked straight ahead, his sunglasses in place, even though it was after dark.

  Rix squeezed my thigh. “Johnny Doe doesn’t see anything I don’t want him to see.”

  We were already slowing in front of a large warehouse before I could reply.

  “That was quick.”

  Rix’s smile flashed. “And yet even with it being only minutes away from your house, I bet you’ve never heard of this club. Which isn’t a bad thing.”

  “What club? I’ve heard of clubs,” I protested.

  “Not clubs like this.”

  I lowered my voice. “Is it a sex club?”

  Rix’s laughter filled the cabin of the SUV, but Johnny Doe didn’t turn and look. “Do you want it to be?”

  Did I? Tonight I was feeling like a new woman, but was this new woman that bold?

  “Umm.” I flicked my gaze up to Rix’s flashing one. “I’ve never been to one before, so I can’t say I would even know what to expect.”

  “We’d ease you in.”

  My mouth dropped open and I blinked at him. “So it is a sex club?”

  “Guess you’ll have to come and find out.”

  Rix climbed out of his side of the SUV and came around to my door. My mouth was still hanging open when he offered me a hand, and we crossed the short stretch of sidewalk before reaching a black steel door. When the door opened without Rix having to knock, and a woman in a red dress stood inside, I remembered to shut my mouth.

  “Right this way, sir.”

  As she led us across a shiny black-lacquered floor to an elevator bay, also painted black, it was anticipation and not trepidation filling me. With Rix by my side, I didn’t feel fear. Maybe that was the upside of knowing that wherever you went, you were with the scariest SOB in the room.

  The woman in the red dress didn’t follow us into the elevator, but she did press a button and the doors slid shut.

  “So, you’re not going to tell me.”

  Rix shook his head. “No. You get to experience.”

  He pulled something from his pocket and dangled it from his fingertips. It was a mask. Lace and satin, embroidered in silver thread and studded with crystal gems. Black ribbon ties fluttered down.

  Oh my God, we really are going to a sex club.

  “Is that necessary?”

  Rix nodded. “Even I’ll wear a mask. It’s required tonight.”

  “Is this—”

  “I promise you’ll enjoy it, so stop worrying.” He held the mask out, carefully laying it in place, and tied it around the back of my head before sliding a much simpler black mask over his face.

  The doors opened then, and my first impression was of low music, clinking glasses, and hushed conversations. We stepped into a large room filled with dining tables and large, round velvet columns lining both sides. The floor was the same black lacquer as downstairs.

  There were no whips. Or chains. Or naked people.

  Instead there were men dressed in suits, women in skirts and dresses, and all were masked.

  Everything was set up facing a large stage with a black velvet curtain. Ornate silver light fixtures hung from the ceiling.

  “What is this place?” I asked, my voice quiet.

  “Tonight, it’s the hottest burlesque club you’ve never heard of before.”

  Burlesque?

  “Really?”

  Rix nodded and led me to one of the velvet columns, which was actually a private booth of some sort. Raised several feet off the floor, the table sat in the middle with a half-round black leather upholstered bench seat. It had a perfect view of the stage, and was concealed from view unless you walked right up to the opening. Candles flickered on the table, and a bottle of champagne chilled in a bucket.

  Rix gestured to the rounded stairs. “Ladies first.”

  I climbed the stairs and slid across the smooth seat with his hand heating the small of my back. The lights began to dim almost immediately.

  “Just in time,” Rix said as he reached for the champagne. Popping the cork without hesitation, he poured two glasses. I accepted one, and he clinked the rim of his to mine. “Cheers, duchess. I think you’re gonna like this.”

  The house band started to play, which was coincidentally when I noticed there was an orchestra pit. The curtains split to reveal two black wrought iron beds made up with silky black sheets.

  A woman leaned against the frame of one, dressed in an elaborate red-and-black top and skirt, and a man against the other, wearing simple black slacks, a white dress shirt, and a black tie.

  I’d watched burlesque before, but never anything completely scandalous, only the run-of-the-mill sassy striptease. I’d seen the LIVE SEX SHOWS signs on Bourbon Street but hadn’t thought they were legit. More a scam to lure in drunk tourists willing to hand over money for the real NOLA experience.

  But this . . . They started to move with the music. The woman pretended to ignore the man, who, even from our vantage point, looked hungry for her.

  Was that what someone else would see when Rix looked at me? I glanced over at him, taking my eyes from the stage for just a moment, to find him watching me, his silver eyes intent.

  Ah . . . so that’s what this was about. See how the straight-laced chick reacts to naughtiness. I slid closer to him on the bench and pressed a fingertip to his jaw, intending to turn his head back toward the stage.

  “You’re here to watch the show,” I whispered when he kept his eyes on me.

  “You’re the one I’m watching, duchess. Every chance I get.”

  My cheeks heated, but so did other strategic parts of my body. “Rix . . .”

  “Valentina.”

  The music, sultry and sexy, picked up a deeper bass beat, and I looked to the stage and back to Rix.

  “Watch the show.”

  I complied
and was captivated.

  The woman was teasing the man. She sat on one of the beds, fluffing her hair, checking her lipstick in a compact. The man came closer, but she stood and bent to fix her shoe, popping her rear out in his direction, but rose before he could touch. And then the clothes started to come off.

  His first. He pulled off his tie and tossed it on the bed he leaned against before unbuttoning and rolling up his cuffs.

  Her attention dropped to the tie, and she flipped her hair before unsnapping part of the front of her sequined top and shimmying it off. Instead of revealing skin, it gave way to a deep V-cut strapless number. She tossed the discarded layer at his face, but he caught it in midair. The act unleashed him.

  He stepped forward, wrapping her long hair around his fist and grasping the back of her head. His lips found her neck, her chin, her ear . . . much like Rix had in the SUV on the way here. The man was ravenous.

  The woman arched back, grasping a handful of his shirt. The man didn’t stop for long moments, and when he did, it was to tear his shirt off and spin her around. Pinning her to the bed, he shackled both wrists above her head and kissed her again. Every move was more erotic than the last.

  When he released his hands, she pushed at his chest, and he bounded up from the bed. She rose and pushed him backward until his knees hit the other bed and he sat. She climbed on his lap and with a snap of her wrist, the skirt of her outfit fell away, leaving bright red cheeky panties with a black bow on the back. This time it was her turn, pressing him down, pinning him, and taking what she wanted.

  Both of his hands wrapped around her ass and squeezed, bringing her closer until she was directly above his face. He tore her panties in half, revealing a tiny red thong. She moaned, riding his face, and I couldn’t stop myself from looking back at Rix again.

  His eyes were trailing down my body to where my nipples were puckered and pressed hard against the silk of my blouse.

  He must have felt my stare because his gaze cut to mine, and in that moment I wanted him to unbutton my blouse and touch me. I wanted him to tear my clothes off the way the couple were onstage. I wanted him in a frenzy for me where what he wanted most in this world was me.

  But that couldn’t happen here. Yes, the booth was semi-private and I was wearing a mask, but still . . . I just couldn’t. I might be finding my inner vixen, as evidenced by the slickness gathering between my legs at watching this show with Rix at my side, but sex in a semi-public place was pushing my limits too far.

  Wasn’t it?

  His gaze was on me, but now the fire was banked and concern was visible.

  Crap. Me and my overactive brain were killing the moment. I looked back to the stage, the woman straddled the man, lower now, so she could tear at his belt with her teeth.

  I wanted to be the aggressor for once. The instigator. But I wasn’t sure if I could do that here.

  I leaned close to Rix’s ear. “I need to use the ladies’.”

  He narrowed his eyes on me, but slid out of the booth so I could pass. “You okay?”

  I nodded. It was a lie. I wasn’t okay, but I would be.

  Walking toward the back of the room, I found a server, and he directed me to the ladies’ room.

  Instead of going inside, I walked past it, looking for another door. There had to be something. I pushed open a door marked PRIVATE.

  Bingo.

  It was a storage room of some kind. Flipping on the light revealed stacks of chairs, a few tables, and shelves of linens. There was no lock on the door, but I was turning over a new leaf. Pulling my phone from my clutch, I slowed when I saw my reflection in its glass screen. My mask hid the nerves, anticipation, daring, arousal, and a hundred other emotions rioting, but at least if we got caught, it would hide my identity.

  Was that why I was being so daring tonight?

  No, I decided. It wasn’t the mask that had freed me from my inhibitions and given me this plan. It was Rix.

  I swiped my screen and punched in my passcode incorrectly. Three times. Get it together, Valentina.

  Finally unlocking my phone, I clicked open a text to Rix.

  VALENTINA: Need you.

  It was the truth. I did need him. Now.

  His response was instant.

  RIX: On my way.

  I waited thirty seconds before I pulled open the door a crack. Rix was striding toward the ladies’ room, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his phone. Concern marked his expression.

  He slowed near the ladies’ room. It was time.

  “Over here.”

  Brows furrowed, he jerked his head in the direction of my voice and strode toward the door.

  “What—”

  I pulled the door open the rest of the way and grabbed the soft wool of his suit coat to yank him inside.

  “What the—”

  Shutting the door with a click, I flipped off the lights and pushed him toward an empty wall.

  “Shhh. You don’t want anyone to catch us, do you?”

  I wished I could see his face, but I worried the light would draw attention to us, and there was nothing in the world I wanted interrupting exactly what I was doing right now. Which was shoving the jacket off his shoulders, tossing it on the table to our left, and threading my fingers through his. I lifted both of his hands up over his shoulders and pressed them against the wall. He didn’t fight me.

  “My duchess is feeling naughty tonight,” he whispered to the dark room.

  “Maybe just a little.” I caught his bottom lip between my teeth and tugged before flicking and soothing it with my tongue. My mouth closed over his, my tongue sliding inside. I loved his taste, his scent, everything about this man.

  I just love him.

  The realization struck me and I released his hands, wanting to touch more of him, wanting this scene to play out like it had in my head. A fantasy I never knew I had until I’d watched the show onstage tonight.

  “I want you,” I told him as I reached for his belt buckle and slipped the belt free.

  “I always fucking want you.”

  “Right now. Right here.”

  He lowered his hands to glide down my sides and he squeezed my hips. “Thank God.”

  The next words I wanted to speak stuck in my throat. They were dirtier, filthier than I’d ever spoken before, but they were exactly what I wanted. So I found the courage to say them anyway.

  “I want you to fuck me against this wall. My legs wrapped around your waist, you holding me up until we both come. And then I want to straighten my skirt and your jacket and walk back to our table with no one having any clue what just happened.”

  I imagined his eyes flaring with heat. His hands squeezed my sides in approval.

  “I’ll give you whatever you want, duchess. Especially that.”

  His hand dropped lower on my leg until he found my bare thigh and slid up it. He paused when he didn’t feel any panties.

  Once again, I wished I could see his face, because the shock had to be perfect.

  I’ll shock him again someday.

  His groan filled the room. “Killin’ me.” Rix’s hand closed around my bare ass and slid low between my cheeks. “Soaked. Perfect. Mine.”

  One finger circled my opening, teasing just enough to bring out my own moan. I wanted more. Needed him filling me.

  As soon as the thought entered my head, he plunged one finger inside.

  “Oh God. Yes.” I rocked my hips against him.

  “Wish I could watch you fucking my finger. So damn perfect.”

  “More.”

  His forehead lowered to mine as he continued to thrust his finger in and out. “You want me? Here? Where anyone could walk in and see us?”

  The recitation of the discovery we could face did nothing to chill my desire. If anything, it fed the flames.

  “Yes, here. Now.”

  “Then I better give you want you want.”

  His hand left me, and I heard the hiss of a zipper. I reached out, palming his cock an
d closing my hand around it to stroke.

  “That what you want?”

  “Yes.”

  Both hands wrapped around my ass and he lifted me. “Legs around my waist, duchess.”

  I followed orders, and his cock fit between us perfectly. Frissons of pleasure scattered through me as I ground against it, going higher each time to push the head against my entrance. Rix lifted me, helping my purpose along. Seated against me, he lowered me slowly and his cock sank inside me, inch by inch until I was filled. Gloriously, amazingly filled.

  The sounds of our breathing and my whimpered moans eclipsed the silence as Rix lifted me slowly before lowering me back down. I savored every movement. Reveled in his touch. My clit brushed the fabric on his dress shirt, and each time it sent me higher and higher.

  “Oh God. Like that.”

  Rix moved me effortlessly as I clung to his shoulders. It wouldn’t take me long to go over the edge. I was already close.

  Thrust after thrust, I moaned louder, digging my nails into his shoulders where the muscles bunched and rippled as he lifted me.

  I squeezed my eyes shut as I felt the orgasm draw together and then . . . it splintered into a thousand shards of pleasure radiating from my center out through my limbs. I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold back the scream, so I pressed my lips against his shoulder to silence the sound.

  Rix paused, letting me revel for a few moments before he continued. Stroke after stroke, faster and faster. His ragged breathing clued me in to his quickly approaching orgasm.

  I wanted it. Wanted him to let go. With me. Because I did this. This was my daring move, and I loved knowing that it brought him to the brink.

  Rix didn’t silence his roar as he came. His forehead dropped to mine as his chest heaved with each breath he sucked in.

  “Gonna kill me, woman. But what a way to go.”

  Kill him? I couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped. He made me sound like some kind of skilled seductress, and that couldn’t be further from the truth. But then again, I had been tonight.

  Rix pulled away, and that’s when it hit me. We hadn’t used a condom.

  Oh. Shit.

  He stiffened, and I knew he’d just had the same realization. He reached around the stack of linens beside us, producing a cloth napkin, and I quickly cleaned up. I’d just finished blindly setting my clothes to rights when the door swung open and the light flicked on. As soon as my eyes adjusted, they swung to the young server standing just inside the door, shock stamped on his expression.