A-List F*ck Club: The Novel

by Frankie Love

  She lifts an eyebrow, tilts her head to the side, cocked toward a hall filled with a bank of doors. Private rooms.

  I know what I need right now, more than anything else.

  “Look, get that waitress—Lindy, I think her name is—to come make drinks for the next hour. She’s a trained bartender—she’ll be able to handle it. I need to go fucking clear my head.” I pour myself a shot of top-shelf tequila and down it. Then another. Jordan eyes me warily the whole time. “I’ll be in my private room if anyone needs me. But I goddamned hope you make sure no one does. Understood?”

  Jordan nods, then speaking in his headset he calls for Lindy. “Anything else, Cal?”

  “Get Jules to my room in one piece.”

  Without saying another fucking word, I weave through the crowd of people. The club is pumping tonight, the DJ’s spinning beats and bodies grind on the dance floor. But I have no interest in this room. No interest in the dancers moving up and down the stripper pole in pasties and G-strings. No interest in any of it. At least nothing out in the front of the club.

  I want something behind closed doors.

  I want Jules.

  Even if she is playing me. Right now I want to get lost in her bronzed skin and long lashes. I want to get lost in her body and be found twelve inches deep in her pussy.

  11

  I watch Cal leave the bar. My eyes narrow as I try to understand where he's gone. I want him here, I want to keep looking at him across the room. At the way his biceps flex as he mixes martinis. The way his eyes keep scanning the room, his eyes landing on mine. Every part of my body is primed for what comes next.

  My heart, though... I’d be lying if I didn’t say it was trembling.

  It was one thing to let Tana do my hair and make-up, find me this see-through slip to wear, it was another thing to slip into a private town car with my roommates and come to the club, seeing Callahan here—that’s something else entirely. That is real. The rest, what came before, that was make-believe.

  Gretchen and Colette are debating whether or not Sawyer will be here tonight. I shake my head at them, wondering why they are so unaware of how the scandal might have actually affected Sawyer Bennett. My job isn’t to parent them, I’m supposed to be their friend. The one who wanted to come out tonight.

  And besides, I don’t know enough of the business to talk shop. The moment Danny, our agent, hears the name Sawyer dropped, he leans in, taking a sip of his vodka soda, and asks Gretchen if she thinks she could spend the night with him again. I turn my shoulders away from them and glance at the bar, wanting to see if Cal is there.

  I’m not expecting Jordan, the manager and the person who gave me such a hard time when I entered the club this evening, to come over and motion for me to follow him. I frown, standing up from the sunken couch. I look over my shoulder at my roommates and shrug. Pulling down my dress, I go where Jordan leads. As we stride through the club, we pass one of the real housewives of Orange County unzipping the front of her dress and exposing her breasts to a man who used to star on a sitcom when I was a kid. A few feet farther on, we cross last season’s bachelor from the TV show. Everyone here belongs.

  And by the looks of things, I belong here too.

  This dress I wear, my perfectly coiffed hair, and my nearly-bare body about to grace the cover of Sports Illustrated––everything about my appearance says I should be an honorary member of this club as much as anyone else.

  But inside?

  Inside I feel like a fake. A fraud. I feel like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Minus the sharp teeth. Truth is, I don’t bite. Looking around this room of celebrities, it seems like the person with the sharpest fangs is most likely the person who is going to win.

  I don’t need to win though. All I need is enough cash to bail out my family farm. Getting that second mortgage was a bad idea, but I understand that my daddy was between a rock and hard place. When I was in high school, Mom got sick, she needed chemo and radiation, and it was all out of pocket since her and Daddy lapsed on their premiums. I try not to get all political about healthcare costs and treating the sick––but the truth is, it’s a mess.

  My dad’s mom—Grandma—has always lived with us, but she’s getting old, her multiple sclerosis causes her so much pain, and she deserves better treatment—better everything.

  She had her son young, and then he and my mom had me young. Three generations under 60 living under one roof.

  Grandma isn’t getting better, and I want to save the farm that means so very much to her. She was born there, raised her son there, and that son raised me there. Losing the property will be like losing ourselves.

  I can’t let it happen.

  “Where are we going?” I ask.

  “Just follow me,” Jordan says when we get to a quieter place. It’s so dark here under this archway though, it’s hard to see his eyes. And I wish I could because I’ve always thought eyes told a story words couldn’t.

  “If you're trying to get me to leave the club, just ask.”

  At this, Jordan leans closer. “Look, I have no reason to trust you, and right now, I don’t trust anyone. I only do as my boss tells me. And right now, my boss is telling me to bring you to his see employee in room 24.”

  I pull back at his words, recoiling at the thought. I am getting sent to a man in a private room—because Jordan’s boss requested it.

  “What the hell? I’m not a prostitute,” I tell him, seething.

  “I never said you were.” Jordan sighs. “Look, the bartender, Cal, has an hour off and wanted to know if you’d join him. Not trying to be intense here. If you don’t want to come it’s fine, I’ll tell him you had other engagements. Alright?”

  He looks so honest, standing here with his hands raised in defeat. Honestly, he looks like he’s seen better days, and I imagine as the manager of this club, today has been a living hell.

  “I don’t have other engagements, Jordan. Mostly because you took my phone,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.

  “You can have your phone back. Honestly, you’re the one who practically forced me to take it.” Jordan reaches into his pocket and hands me my phone. “Cal trusts you, and Cal’s one of the best guys I know. I want to trust you too. It’s just, shady shit went down last night, and the last thing this club needs is more of it.”

  I nod, understanding that at least a little bit. I don’t want to get caught up in any tabloid shit storm either. I’m going to endure enough flack from the folks back home with my practically naked body on the cover of a magazine. I don’t need to a sex scandal to boot.

  “Cal is in room 24. He’s waiting for you,” Jordan tells me, smiling out of the side of his mouth. “Don’t break his heart, okay?”

  I may have considered Jordan a slime ball when I first met him, but he talks well about Callahan and doesn’t seem like he has any ill intention toward either of us. I lean in and kiss Jordan’s cheek, before sashaying down the hallway toward the man who is waiting for me.

  12

  The moment Jules walks into the room, I know my night has just gone from bad to glorious. She smiles coyly, and she may be a girl from the cornfields of Indiana, but she caught on pretty damn quickly how to slink around the room looking like a goddess.

  “You asked for me?” she says, stepping toward me. The lights are low in here, casting a soft glow about the room, but this room was made especially for me. And what happens inside of it can’t be seen by anyone else.

  Unless that is, we want to let our kink flag fly.

  Otherwise, we can keep the room as it is, there’s a black velvet couch, BSDM gear hanging on the wall, an armoire filled with satin panties and silky lingerie.

  Those things are fine, sweet, and innocent even. But I like more than sweet. And I want to see if Jules does too.

  This club wasn’t nicknamed the Fuck Club for no reason.

  There’s a perfectly good reason. A perfectly hot one too.

  “So,” Jules says. “This is one of the infamous
sex rooms at the club?” Running her hand along the velvet curtain, she picks up a feather boa and lets it rest on her shoulders. Walking toward me, she wraps the boa around my neck playing the part of a sex queen, not a woman who's just lost her virginity twenty-four hours ago.

  “You seem pretty comfortable in here,” I tell her. “Honestly, I was pretty damn shocked to see you here at all. Why did you come?”

  Jules licks her lips, pouty and perfect. “I came here because I couldn’t imagine waiting until Monday to see you again.”

  “But I thought you said you hated this club, and everything it stands for?”

  “Maybe I just didn’t understand this club,” she says.

  “Even after the press released those photos today? I thought you’d run away, scared.”

  “And where would I run to, Callahan?” She blinks slowly, her thick lashes brushing against her cheek. “The only place I wanted to run was into your arms.”

  My cock stiffens, her words exactly what I want to hear, but I can’t help but wonder if they are true. Is she playing me? It doesn’t seem likely that she went from innocent virgin to vixen overnight.

  “I’m surprised. I thought you said you wanted me to take you on a real date. Dinner and a movie, remember?” I don’t know why I am pressing her like this, not just pulling her in my arms or bending her backward, thrusting my cock inside her pretty little cunt. I can’t help it, but I need a few more answers before I plunge myself deep inside her pussy.

  “Oh, I still want that dinner and a movie. Reservations, even. But that isn’t all I want. I told you last night I wasn’t opposed to coming to one of these rooms if I was with the right man.”

  “And what makes you think I’m the right man?” I ask her, stepping toward her, and sliding my hand around her thin waist. I know I’m pushing, requiring more of her than I require of any other woman. The goddamn truth.

  But I can tell Jules isn’t like other women. I can ask her questions and she wants to answer me.

  My hands can’t help but hold her body, pull her closer to me.

  “You took my virginity, didn’t you?” She looks at me, with sincerity. I hate that I questioned her at all.

  “I’m not looking for a relationship,” I whisper in her ear, protecting myself. What if she is the reason the photos were leaked? I don’t want to paint myself the fool.

  She licks her lips, considering my words. She doesn’t look offended. “I didn’t say I was looking for a relationship either. I said I wanted a man, the right man, to take my virginity. And that was you. It’s not my problem that you’re also the right man to take me to a room at the Fuck Club.” She crosses her arms, and I love this look on her.

  She came across so honest and real last night, and now she is showing me another side of herself. She’s not just a gorgeous woman, she also has spunk, humor, a fucking wild side.

  “I just don’t want to overwhelm you,” I tell her as I nibble her earlobe. “This place isn't nicknamed the Fuck Club for nothing. Our rooms... they get hot. And you don’t have much experience.”

  Her hands run over my chest, then her fingers slip through my belt loops, and she smirks. “No offense, I know you work here and all, but it doesn’t look all that special in here. A velvet couch, a whip, handcuffs... but that isn’t anything extraordinary.”

  I raise an eyebrow, take her hands from my body, and walk to a switch mounted on the wall. My hand hovers over it. “You think you can handle it? Because, sweetheart, the heat is going to come and I want to make sure you are ready.”

  She lifts the hem of her sheer dress, pulling it over her head and dropping it on the floor. She stands before me in a leather corset and thigh highs, garter belt, and four inch stilettos. “I may have just lost my virginity, but I never said I didn’t have kinky fantasies.”

  I press the switch with my palm, and the two-way mirrors expose what is happening in the rooms around us. Above us and on either side.

  The couples in these rooms aren’t all celebrities. Some are employees. But all have requested rooms tonight that will allow other couples to watch if they wish. I chose this room for a very specific reason. I want to see how dirty Jules might want to get.

  Because I may lead a life on the down-low, but I also love to get down and dirty when I fuck.

  Last night I showed her my softer side, the side that knows how to make love to a woman.

  Tonight? Tonight I want to make her come until she forgets to breathe. I want to make her gasp as I pound her perfect pussy. I want to lick her cunt until she gushes all over me.

  I said I don’t want a relationship.

  But if I found a woman who can fuck like a porn star and then smile like the girl next door? That is the woman for me.

  Jules’ eyes go wide, and I take her hand and point up to the ceiling.

  Above us two men fuck a brunette, she’s on all fours, getting fucked in the ass, her mouth wrapped around the cock of the man kneeling before her. My cock twitches, hard as hell. I watch as Jules’ perfect mouth falls into an O. I want it to stay that way, I want her mouth to circle my cock too.

  “Oh, God,” she manages, watching as the men pound the woman senseless. You can tell the woman above us is loving it. She pulls the man's cock from her mouth, and the man behind her pulls out and he begins stroking his raging hard-on as the cock in front of her shoots ribbons of creamy come all over her face.

  “Can we hear them too?” Jules asks, her eyes fixated on the threesome.

  I grin, loving that she wants to hear the sounds. I press another button, happy this ménage wants us to hear them too.

  The man’s grunts fill the room. The woman’s voice surrounding us. “Come all over me, baby,” she begs. “I want you to come on my titties, please!”

  The man obliges, showering her with more, and the man who fucked her from behind walks in front of her too, and then she is showered with come, she parts her legs, and her hand starts working her cunt over. From this view we watch her legs spread, her hand moving over her slit, the come from her pussy dripping onto the glass floor.

  “You like that?” I ask Jules, knowing she hasn’t even set her gaze on the three rooms surrounding us. If she liked the room above, I can’t wait to see her reaction to the others.

  “I’ve never... it’s like... porn but better.” Jules shakes her head, captivated by what is above her. “You like watching them?” she asks.

  I growl, unzipping my jeans. My cock straining and needing to be released.

  “I fucking love watching you get turned on by what you see.” I step toward her, brushing the hair from her face, wanting to see her in her little outfit closer up. Her tits are huge, bigger than I remembered from last night. The corset squeezes them up, and God I want to lick her nipples, run my cock over them, titty-fuck her nice and good.

  “It makes me really hot,” she tells me. “My pussy, it’s so...” She shakes her head as if she doesn’t know how to explain it.

  I slip my hand into her tiny panties and feel the heat. “You are so wet and ready.” My fingers stroke her as she sucks in a breath of air, and I press my hand to her cheek and turn her head to the side. “You like what you see in that room?” I ask her.

  The room to our right shows two women grinding against one another. I recognize one woman as a star in a recent indie film. The other woman is a morning talk show host. One is on her back on a massive circle bed, the other one is over her, and they are 69ing. Licking one another’s pussies like it’s their last goddamn meal.

  Jules sucks in her breath and I touch her pussy, faster this time. My fingers roll over her little cunt, and I am already imagining her on her back.

  I use my hand to tilt her head in front of us, where a group of six fuck in every way imaginable. There are two women and four men. The women are riding the men, their tits bouncing, groaning in pleasure.

  One of the men has his cock down one woman’s throat, and his hands are in her hair, moving her head faster and faster as she sucks
him off, while at the same time a cock is buried deep in her pussy.

  The other two men watch in pleasure, jerking off as they watch the fucking in front of them. Before they come though, they walk over to the women, grabbing their asses and pulling them from the men they are riding. They jerk off on the women’s asses and then plunge themselves deep in their assholes. The women moan in pleasure as they begin kissing one another.

  It’s one of the hottest orgies I’ve ever seen, all six of the participants releasing everything they’ve held back.

  I’m ready to release a thing or two myself. And Jules must realize how hard I am because she pulls down my boxers and wraps her hand around my thickness.

  “They can’t see us?” she asks.

  I shake my head, “Not unless we gave our permission. And tonight we’re not giving permission to do anything besides one another.”

  I move her face so she sees the room to her left.

  This room has a different kink going on. A woman is dressed up in a baby doll dress, and she’s sucking on a bottle. The naked man standing before her watches while stroking himself as she mounts a stuffed pony and starts riding it. “You like it when I ride my pony, Daddy?” she asks.

  “I want to see your pussy, be a good little girl and take off your panties,” the man says coarsely.

  At that, I see Jules’s eyes get wide. “That’s not my thing,” she tells me.

  “That’s fine.” I press a button and turn off the mirror to that room. “Which one do you like the most?”

  I watch as Jules looks between the other three rooms. She shakes her head biting her bottom lip. “It’s hard to choose. They all... They all turn me on.”

  “In that case, let’s fuck while watching them all.”

  She must like that idea because she pulls my hand from her pussy, and laces her fingers through it.

  “Fuck me on this bed,” she tells me. “But not like last night. Fuck me rough. Make me scream. Make me scream your name, Callahan.”