by S. Valentine
He removed his cigarettes from his pocket. Feeling for a lighter, he grumbled when he realised he’d forgotten it. Stepping behind the bar, he took the club’s personalised black strip of matches and retrieved one. Lighting his fag, he took a long, slow drag, the smoke then drifting from his lips. He felt Eva watching him.
“Don’t you have work to do?” Inside he felt a sick, acidic feeling in his stomach. He pulled out a stool, fearing he’d lose control any moment, and pick a fight, the hateful words he had for her spilling out.
“Like I said,” she paused, taking a sip of her drink, “I’m early.”
“Whatever,” he grunted. “Like me, you pick and choose your shifts.”
“Darion,” she said sternly. “Whether I come here in the day, or night, I ensure I do my eight hours, like you do. Don’t worry about that.”
“Well, take your drink upstairs. I told you, I run things down here.”
She shook her head, an expression of disbelief on her face. “I was getting to know Jasmine. As joint owner, don’t I have the right to get to know my staff?”
He remained silent, smoking his cigarette.
“Look.” She sighed heavily. “We got off to a bad start when I returned. Can we start over?”
Stubbing his cigarette in the ashtray, he made his way behind the bar again, pouring himself a large whisky. Back on his stool, he surveyed the room. He noticed Lexi on the stage, and Marnie leading a client into a private booth. Wendy was on the stage, slowly removing her top.
“Whatever.”
“Don’t be so grouchy. By the way, did you check the club’s bookings?”
“No, why?”
“We’re fully booked, Daz…for the next five months. Every single weekend is jam packed with no less than a party of fifty.”
“How did you manage that?” He hid the surprise from his face.
“The new distributor I hired has five years’ experience. He added like ten businesses in addition to the ones we already had to stock the leaflets.”
He nodded slowly.
“We have an ad in five magazines, which have weekly releases. And the website now has a video tour of the playrooms, and it’s had thousands of views. People like it.”
“Sounds like it’s all coming together.”
“It is.” She swept her hair off her face. “I’m looking forward to this month’s fucking paycheck.” She giggled.
“Solo Dancing” by Indiana now boomed from the speakers. Eva squealed and jumped to her feet. She rocked her hips from side to side, dancing. She stated that it was one of her favourite songs, her stare fixed on Darion. For some strange reason, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. As she ran her fingers down her collarbone, her chest, her stomach, and thighs, he found himself mesmerised. That familiar body. That familiar dance. The way she used to strip for him, teasing him, slowly removing her clothes item by item. As if seeing right through her clothes to the tattoos that he used to run his tongue along, he swallowed, hating what his raging hormones were doing to him.
Eva took a few steps forward until she was before him, still dancing. He found himself leaning back slightly to evaluate her, devouring every inch of her body. Eva’s smile turned dangerously sexy. She was the sort of woman that knew she was a catch, and didn’t mean to let anyone forget it. She had an air about her exuding trouble.
Leaning into him to create a bond of intimacy, she kissed her hand, and blew a kiss at him. His heart was galloping in his chest, his palms becoming damp with sweat. He shifted on the stool when she spun around, giving him a full view of her firm, shapely behind. Darion licked his lips to moisten them, trying to ignore the leaping sensation in his stomach, and his cock that was straining against his jeans.
When the song ended, he blinked a couple of times, feeling himself being pulled back to reality. Rubbing his forehead, he stood up, a mixture of rage and panic returning.
“Get to work, Eva,” his voice came out sharp, vicious sounding as heat flooded his face.
“Relax.” Eva giggled, flinging her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his. “Everything is running smoothly upstairs. I checked.”
He removed her arms and glared at her. Turning his back, he drained back the last of his drink.
“Don’t be so uptight, Daz. What happened to that fun, carefree man I used to know and—”
“Don’t.” He held a palm up, indicating for her to be silent.
“Fine. Suit yourself.” She shrugged. “I really wish we could get along,” she said, shaking her head vehemently. “For the sake of the club, at least.”
He didn’t respond.
“Things would be so much easier if only I could work out what was going on in that head of yours,” she purred, with a little wink.
Darion felt the blood rushing to his face. The way she observed him made him feel as if she really could see right into his head, like she knew he’d fantasised about her. Feeling his chest tighten, he felt a sudden need to leave the room. Turning on his heel, he made his way toward the exit.
“Yeah, you keep running, Darion,” he heard her yell after him. “One day you’re gonna realise that me returning was the best thing that ever happened!”
As he stepped out into the chilly evening air, he took out his mobile to call a taxi. Now he did need that cool shower more than anything. He wanted to wash away the smell of Eva’s perfume that he was sure was lingering on his clothes. Maybe he was just imagining it. He didn’t want to take any chances. If only washing traces away of her was as easy as getting rid of her.
Chapter
Twenty-Nine
Gabi
Friday night appeared faster than Gabi had expected. Usually she would have been glad of the weekend being upon her; however this time she was overwhelmed with anxiety. She spritzed some perfume on her wrists and gently stroked one against her neck. Her blonde waves had been scooped up and arranged into a messy pile, with a few strands hanging loose. She’d decided to wear a short white dress, with buttons all the way up the front. The colour complimented her golden skin. It made her look almost pure, virginal.
She supposed she was virginal when it came to the antics in the playrooms, for she could bet that Darion would be ensuring she tried everything once. Taking her red Mac lipstick from the dressing table, she stained her lips with it, making them instantly appear fuller, sexier.
Although she looked as if she exuded confidence, inside she was a nervous wreck. She willed her hands to stop shaking, and her burning cheeks to cool. She’d helped herself to a quarter of a bottle of wine, hoping it’d give her Dutch courage. Taking a massive breath, she grabbed her white clutch bag, and made her way to the living room.
“If you don’t keep your man happy, someone else will.” Eva’s words echoed in her mind. She could do this. She could give swinging a good go. She could satisfy Darion’s needs. She could prove Eva wrong, that she was more than capable of keeping her man happy, especially sexually.
She was relieved when Darion called her to say he was parked outside. The quicker she got to the club, the quicker she could down another strong drink, and face her fears. She exited the apartment, locked the front door, and climbed into Darion’s Audi.
She got an instant whiff of his masculine aftershave as soon as she sat beside him. She took him in. He was wearing black jeans and a black shirt. His hair was gelled back, and he’d shaved, so only a millimeter of stubble shadowed his jaw line. He always made more of an effort on his appearance when it came to participating in the playrooms.
Her stomach tightened hard with longing, her pulse quickening. She linked her fingers together in a bid to stop herself from grabbing him and kissing him greedily. She had all night for that.
She felt the weight of his intense stare, as if he were undressing her with his sweeping eyes, a raw and animalistic lust in them. Gabi could feel the chemistry between them thick in the air. The admiration and desire was apparent on his face.
As if by a magnetic force, he possessed her with his mou
th, his tongue crashing against hers, exploring. Her pleasured moans met his. Gabi massaged his rock-hard erection through his trousers, whilst Darion slipped his hand under her dress, rubbing firmly between her legs.
“Mmmm…” he murmured breathlessly.
Gabi rocked against his hand, silently screaming inside for him to push her underwear aside and penetrate her with his fingers. Delicious shivers ran through her body. She felt her sex quivering as it became moist with arousal. She fumbled with the zipper of his jeans, desperate to stroke her hand along his smooth shaft.
“Darlin’.” He withdrew his hand, a dangerous smirk crossing his face. “Let’s continue this at the club.”
Feeling herself sink into her chair, she removed her hand and sulked. Why did he tease her and get her so worked up if he wouldn’t give her the pleasure of immediate release? Her core tightened, and she felt the burning, needy ache between her legs, unsure of how she’d manage the journey. She was so turned on she feared she’d explode.
“Let’s go inside,” she pleaded. “We can do it again at the club.”
He snagged his lower lip between his teeth. “It’ll be better if we hold it off…trust me.”
She knew he was right. Their climax would be more intense if they waited. Darion turned his head to focus on the road, and started the engine. The stereo screamed to life, “I Get Off” by Halestorm came from the speakers. The song heightened her raging hormones, making her want to ravage Darion to the sexual lyrics.
As they made their way through the darkness of the night, both of them were silent, taking in the music. Darion’s eyes were dancing with merriment, obviously eager for what was to come. Gabi drummed her fingers on her clutch bag, doing anything but keeping still. With a sharp intake of breath, she opened her window a little, desperate for the coldness of the air. Her whole body was heated, and she was unsure whether it was because she was dreading the playrooms, or because she was sexually frustrated.
“Gabi?”
“Yeah?”
“If we decide to go all the way…don’t forget the rules in the playrooms,” he began, his voice stern.
“I know, I know,” she cut in. “No separating, and no sex unless we both agree, and safe sex always.”
“Good girl.”
He was now gripping the steering wheel. Gabi studied him. He was chewing on his bottom lip. She’d never betray him and break the rules in the playrooms like Eva. She wished he could trust her.
“I don’t think I’m ready to go all the way.”
He looked at her, his features softening. “We’ll do whatever you’re ready for. This is for both our pleasure.”
“I need to take it one step at a time.”
He nodded in agreement. “You can lead the way, Gabi.”
She slouched in the chair, backing her head against the headrest, and stared at the road ahead. What room should she choose? Which people should she get intimate with? Same-sex, singles, or other couples? Her mind raced with hundreds of thoughts. Perhaps she should just go with the flow, try and relax, and enjoy the experience.
“I wonder if Audrina will be there.” She perked up a tad. She’d felt comfortable with her, and a rematch could be the best way of escaping getting intimate with strangers.
“Maybe.”
She noticed Darion’s lips tilt into a smile, making her flush with jealousy. There were the uneasy thoughts again—wondering if he fancied other women more than her, whether they were better sexually, more experienced, better looking. She rubbed her forehead, trying to dismiss it. She was the woman he was going home with, the woman he was in a committed relationship with, the woman he said he loved.
“It’s gonna be weird to eventually see you with another man,” he said, his face unreadable.
She watched as he straightened his posture, as if stretching out a stiff back. Gabi felt herself relax a little, knowing that he could be as worried and unsettled as she was made her feel better. Giving her up to other men obviously wasn’t as easy as he’d thought. It must have panicked him a little, although he got off on it simultaneously.
“Yeah,” she agreed. “It will be weird to eventually see you with another woman.” She concentrated on the road once more.
“Our relationship is strong. We’ll get through it. We’ll enjoy it.”
She doubted he even convinced himself, let alone her.
Chapter Thirty
Darion
Darion tightened his hold on Gabi’s hand. They were mounting the stairs at The Black Door. Eva had been warned to steer clear that night, so he felt nothing but an excited rush at having some fun with Gabi. Having a loving relationship and being able to sexually explore and be open with his girlfriend, and still do as he pleased, no restrictions, was most men’s fantasy, he believed. He really did have the best of both worlds.
He pushed open the door and stepped inside. Rock n’ roll music filled his ears. A red erotic glow cast over the room, over the luxurious décor, the bar area, and dance floor. The newly painted black walls with specs of glitter shimmered glamorously. The crowd was relaxed and lively at the same time, with people either sitting and chatting, or dancing, complete with drinks in their hands. There were couples, singles, people of all professions, all ages, shapes, and sizes. He noticed a couple of rich A-list celebrities in one of the VIP booths.
The magazine advertisements, revamped website, marketing strategies online, and in public had obviously worked wonders. Eva had been right. He hadn’t seen the place so busy in years. The profit turn over would be decent, he knew it. In respect of entrance fees, single women had the lowest fee, couples slightly higher, and single men the highest price. Then there was the money coming in for the beverages, and he could see that every single table was loaded with beers, cocktails, and expensive champagne.
Darion could feel the sexual tension in the air, as one thing everybody was doing was flirting.
After he’d greeted Tiana at the door―his employee who monitored the membership list―he made his way toward the bar. Hungry, predatory eyes from both women and men swept over him. Darion instantly felt his ego swell. Some of them knew he owned the club, and some didn’t. Darion didn’t like to make a big fuss about it, as it sometimes had the affect of intimidating people. He didn’t want that. He wanted everybody to feel at complete ease.
Turning to look at Gabi, he flashed her a smile, and noticed she was curiously eyeing the room. He slipped an arm around her waist and ordered them drinks at the bar.
“It’s busy tonight.”
“Yeah. It is,” Gabi agreed, eagerly reaching for her glass of white wine.
Darion turned back to face the crowd. He took in women: brunettes, blondes, redheads―the lot. He noticed several that he wouldn’t have minded getting up close and personal with.
“Shall we go and sit in a booth?” he asked Gabi.
“Why not?”
He wove through the bustling crowd. The booth in the corner, which was a small seating area, was always kept reserved for Darion. He grinned at the bartender that rushed over, asking if he wanted any other drinks. He asked her politely to fetch a bottle of champagne. He felt like going all out.
Dropping onto a red velvet sofa, he placed his whisky on the table and reached for his tin of cigars. Gabi sat next to him, and he couldn’t help but notice that she was tense. Wasn’t she as excited as he was at what the night would bring? He took a long puff of his cigar.
“You okay?” he asked, prior to blowing smoke from the corner of his mouth.
She nodded.
“If you feel uncomfortable we can go. Remember, I will never pressure you into doing something you don’t wanna do.”
“I’m fine.” She beamed. “Just need a few drinks to calm my nerves first.”
At that moment, the bartender returned with a bottle of champagne in a silver bucket of ice, complete with four glasses. She knew it was certain they’d soon have company. Darion poured himself and Gabi a generous glass. Then he sat further bac
k on the couch, relaxing, super proud of the club. He wondered which room to visit. Maybe he and Gabi would visit them all. He had no idea how far she was willing to take it.
Taking another drag on his cigar, his eyes locked with those of a beautiful redhead. She flashed him a flirtatious smile. He took the cigar between his fingers, and grinned back at her slowly. He felt the pace of his heartbeat grow faster. His breath caught in his throat as lust jolted through him. He sat straighter, intrigued, when she seductively skimmed her collarbone with her fingers, prior to landing on her breast, teasingly.
He continued to stare at her, silently daring her not to avert her gaze. Placing the cigar between his lips, he took another puff, and blew the smoke out slowly, causing it to swirl around him, obscuring his view. When his line of sight was clear again, she was gone.
He doused his cigar in the ashtray, picked up his drink, and turned to Gabi. He’d expected her to be focused on him, either insanely jealous and aroused, or furious, revealing her sexy, dark side. She was neither. She was laughing at something an attractive man was saying to her. On closer inspection, Darion noticed he was an actor he’d seen on television a few times. He felt himself grow a little faint with envy. Taking a sip of his drink, he put it down and slicked back his hair with his hand.
“Who’s that?” he asked, sliding his fingers up and down Gabi’s leg possessively, warning the man that Gabi was his. Then he felt ridiculous. It was a swingers club, it was what they were there for—to mingle and all do as they pleased sexually. He couldn’t keep Gabi to himself. It was not only hypocritical of him, but completely out of character. He’d never had a problem sharing before.
“It’s Jayce Carter,” she replied. “He’s from that show, Those Were The Days.”
“I see.”
“He’s asked if he can join us.” Gabi’s expression was blank and he had no idea what she was thinking. “He’s with his girlfriend,” she added.
He felt his muscles relax a little, and told Gabi he was fine with it. Jayce welcomed him with a nod of the head, and sat on the sofa opposite them, his girlfriend following suit. Jayce was extremely handsome in a clean shaven pretty-boy way, and his brunette girlfriend was equally attractive. If Gabi was drawn to Jayce, maybe he would be the one to make her feel more comfortable in the playrooms.