Longing: Club Inferno

by Jamie K. Schmidt

  “Okay,” she said. “You’re in luck. I’ve got a few hours free. What’s the name of the place?”

  —

  The coffee shop was adorable, tucked away on a side street in New Haven. It was decorated with a European flair. If she closed her eyes, she could almost pretend she was overseas. The lack of cigarette smoke, though, was a dead giveaway.

  Cesare’s eyes lit up when he spotted her. Anya had thought she would have to steel herself against his charm, but surprisingly enough, she didn’t feel anything. It was surreal. His aftershave used to send her loins into overdrive. Now he just smelled nice. His touch used to have her blushing like a virgin. But when Cesare claimed her hand and kissed her on both cheeks, she resisted the urge to wipe away his caress. It no longer felt right. Leading her over to his table, he held the chair out for her like the gentleman he was. And once he made sure she was comfortable, he snapped his fingers at the barista, like the aristocrat he was.

  “Due cappuccini,” he said.

  “Grazie,” Anya said, prompting him, and sent an apologetic smile to the man behind the counter.

  “You’re welcome,” Cesare responded, misunderstanding her.

  She shook her head. Typical Cesare.

  “So,” he said, sitting down and attempting to capture her hand across the table. “You’re looking lovely. Where are you modeling now?”

  Folding her hands in her lap, Anya met his gaze—which kept dipping from her lips to her cleavage and back again. “I’m between jobs right now. I’m working on a clothing line with Colleen and I’m looking to get into acting.”

  “Yes,” he said. “Tell me more about this Couture. Rita says it’s very interesting.”

  I bet she did.

  “Well, Colleen opened it up so she could explore some designing avenues that aren’t traditionally developed. And you know how she is. Somehow it turned into a luxury resort. But there’s a serious side as well. I’m helping her out by showing the guests my expertise in accessorizing.” Anya fixed her scarf over her gaping neckline and suddenly Cesare looked her in the eye for the first time.

  The waiter brought over their coffees. Anya studied the little biscotto that came with it.

  Fuck it.

  She dunked it in the coffee. YOLO and all that shit.

  “Tell me about the parties. They seem wild.” His eyes bored into hers and a faint trace of suspicion formed in the back of her mind. Was he trying to get her to admit to knowing about Club Inferno?

  Faking nonchalance, Anya shrugged. “You know how models get when they get all liquored up.”

  “I remember,” he said, trailing a finger up her bare arm. “Fondly.”

  Anya shifted back slightly and took a sip of her coffee. It was wonderful. She closed her eyes in bliss.

  “I told you,” Cesare said with a chuckle. “Just like home.”

  She was definitely coming back here.

  “Did you meet your stripper at one of these parties?” Cesare asked.

  “Well, my mother didn’t arrange the meeting.” Anya smiled brightly at him.

  The barb struck home and he backed off a bit.

  “What are you doing in Connecticut?” she asked when he continued to sulk. Why had she never noticed his pouty lips? They really weren’t attractive.

  “I have some business in the capital.”

  “Not in Manhattan?” Anya probed, hoping he’d mention the play.

  “It bores me,” he said, frowning as his cellphone went off.

  How could anyone be bored in New York City? Especially when you have more money than the Rockefellers.

  “Is that Rita?” she asked when he continued to scroll through.

  “It’s of no consequence,” he replied, but didn’t look up from his phone.

  “Mmm-hmm.” Anya finished her coffee. She would have loved another one, but then she’d be off the wall. Oh, what the heck, she was probably going to be up all night dancing. While Cesare pondered his phone and texted someone, Anya got up and got a refill. She hitched a hip on the bar stool and waited for Cesare to miss her.

  It gave her a chance to watch him, unobserved. His jet-black hair was going a bit gray, but because life was so unfair it made him look dashing instead of old. He had a few more lines on his face, and he didn’t smile as much as she remembered. Of course, chances were he was fighting with either Rita or his wife. He was still at it when she finished her second cup. Paying for her coffees, she tipped the barista because Lord knew Cesare wasn’t going to.

  Going back to the table, she rested her fingers on his shoulder in a brief touch. “I have an appointment,” she said. “It was nice seeing you again.”

  “Wait.” Cesare jumped up from his chair. “I’m sorry. I had a business emergency.”

  “I understand,” Anya said. “But I need to get going.”

  “We will have to do this again,” he said, walking her out of the coffee bar.

  She gave him a noncommittal sigh and ducked away from his kiss. Waving to him as she drove away, Anya felt a chapter in her life close. She wasn’t sure if she was happy or sad.

  Anya headed back to Couture, and after wandering around for a bit, lost in her own thoughts, she overheard that Clint was in the dungeon, so she made her way down to Club Inferno. The dungeon was gearing up for the after-party. There was enough booze to drown China and the scenes that were being set up were a little complicated for her brain to take in.

  “What’s the hook for?” she asked Jana, who sauntered up to her.

  “That’s an ass hook.”

  Of course it is.

  Anya was at a loss for words.

  “Are you okay?” Jana said.

  Anya was going to defend her reaction by saying that one doesn’t usually think of a giant fishhook as going into your rear end but then realized Jana was talking about her fainting spell last night. “Oh yeah, thanks for asking.”

  “Master Dante was concerned about you.”

  “That’s sweet of him.”

  “He wanted me to tell you if you needed anything to just ask.”

  Anya smiled. “I appreciate that. He’s very kind.”

  “He can be a loving and benevolent master,” she said.

  Tamping down her snide remark about his being a real hard-ass with the knives and whips, Anya said, “Can I ask you a personal question?”

  Jana nearly danced with glee. “Those are my favorite types.”

  “I’m getting involved with Clint,” she said. “And we’re not quite meshing yet. You know, in the kink areas. I was wondering, for example, what are your hard limits?”

  Taking her by the arm, Jana led her away from the scene as two Doms carrying black PVC outfits came in. “I don’t have many. Necrophilia, scat, and water sports mainly.”

  Anya stumbled. “I…I didn’t think I had to mention those.”

  “Clint’s experienced enough to know. I’m hard-core.”

  “So…” Anya tried to find the best way to word what she was worried about. “How do you know Master Dante won’t go too far with the stuff you do like? I mean, I saw him throwing knives at you.”

  Jana’s laugh sounded like tinkling bells and Anya felt a little foolish about being such a worrywart. It wasn’t as if Clint was going to be winging sharp objects at her.

  “Master Dante is an expert. Accidents happen, obviously, but he’s very careful. He treasures me. And I have a safe word if I need to use it.”

  “Have you ever used it?”

  “In the beginning, when I should have, I didn’t, and it caused problems. I had something to prove and it wound up not being a good experience for either of us. So if you’re looking for advice? Scream that safe word when you first begin with Clint. After a while he’ll take you to the next level. But you’ve got to trust him. If you don’t, none of this works.” Jana encompassed the dungeon around her with a gesture of her gloved hand.

  “I haven’t really known him long, but I trust Colleen wouldn’t hire someone who would be i
rresponsible.”

  Jana pursed her lips. “People are human. No one’s perfect. I like Clint. He’s a responsible Dom. Colleen wouldn’t hire anyone who takes chances. He makes some hot movies. But he’s not the Dom for me. Too pretty. Too concerned with pleasure over pain.”

  “That’s a bad thing?”

  “You don’t know who you are until you know how you handle pain.”

  Anya thought that was pretty damn deep. She realized that Jana had walked her to Clint’s studio. She hadn’t recognized where they were going because she had been blindfolded before. But she heard Clint’s voice through the door.

  “Are you and Leo going to the concert tonight?” Anya asked.

  “If we please our master. The master told me to keep an eye on you, but even if he didn’t I wouldn’t mind if you came to me if you have any questions.”

  “Just one more for now.”

  She inclined her head.

  “Do you get jealous seeing Master Dante with other women?”

  “Oh no,” Jana said. “I live to see to his pleasure. If it makes him happy, I’m content. And I’m well rewarded for my obedience and service. Besides, it’s me he wants in his life. The others are just for fun.”

  “Thanks.” Anya smiled. There was no way she could ever be that accepting. But she was going to try to achieve some of that self-confidence that Jana oozed. Jana wasn’t super beautiful and didn’t have a perfect body. She was normal but so comfortable in her own skin that she came off as fabulous. Anya was striving for some of that.

  “Have fun.” With a wave, Jana disappeared into the shadows of the dungeon.

  After listening at the door for a moment, Anya didn’t think he was with anyone, so she knocked. Seconds later he threw open the door, a fierce expression on his face.

  “I said I was not to be disturbed,” he snarled. His words rapped into her like bullets from a machine gun. Stunned, she blinked back tears.

  “Well, pardon the hell out of me,” Anya said, and whirled on her heel.

  “Wait,” he snapped.

  The tears faded into anger. She looked over her shoulder. “Who do you think you’re talking to in that tone of voice?”

  Clint crooked his finger, a small smile playing around his gorgeous mouth.

  Anya narrowed her eyes at him.

  Leaning against the door frame, he stretched his arm over his head to give her a good look at the muscle definition on his bare arm and chest. Her mouth went dry. He rolled his hips ever so slightly, so it drew her eyes down to the tight jeans he was wearing. She forgot to breathe.

  “You did that on purpose,” she said accusatorily.

  “You coming in or not?” His voice was all sin and invitation.

  “I didn’t want to bother you,” Anya said, realizing Clint’s behavior was all for show in case it was a dungeon submissive. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch.”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said with true regret. “Switchblade tapped me to make a few YouTube videos for them during the after-party. I’m swamped.”

  “Can I help?”

  “Uh, yeah, don’t you have classes?”

  “Nope. It’s my day off. Everyone seems to be busy and I don’t mind helping.”

  “That would be great.” He held out his hand to her and brought her inside.

  Anya was impressed with the setup. It looked like a professional studio. He set her to work cleaning up props while he puttered around on his computer.

  “How did the shoot go last night?” she asked, holding up a ripped T-shirt.

  “They had a good time. They were doing a forced-consent scene. He was pretending to be asleep and she came in and tied him up and sat on his face. Then she fucked him.” Clint said it matter-of-factly, as if he was reading off a grocery list. He squinted at the computer and shook his head.

  “Problems?”

  “I’ve got RAM issues.”

  “Sounds like a personal problem,” Anya teased.

  “I can ram you just fine.”

  Anya liked the sound of that. Her smile faded a bit as she recognized the chair she’d sat on while Clint pleasured her. She was trying not to be bothered by it. Maybe she’d watch the video again and this time see what Clint had wanted her to see. Maybe they could watch it together.

  “The biggest problem is going to be the lighting,” Clint said, oblivious to her thoughts. “The dungeon has to stay dark for the mood, so I’m going to have to brighten it up with the editing software. I need to take some sample shots so I can come back here and play around with the settings. It’s going to be pretty boring.”

  “I can entertain myself.” Anya sat on a swivel chair next to his computers. “Can you launch the space shuttle in here?” She gestured to the equipment.

  “To the moon, Alice,” he teased, shaking his fist. Anya laughed at the old television show reference. Her grandmother used to watch The Honeymooners.

  “Has anyone approached you with doing a pay-for-play web show?” Anya said.

  He laughed. “You bet. Colleen thinks we should set up a room upstairs where the lighting is better and have BDSM instructional videos.”

  “That sounds cool,” Anya said. “I bet Jana and Leo would be all over that.”

  “We’ve got to be careful not to use anyone that the models or designers might recognize. We want to keep Club Inferno secret as long as we can.”

  “They can wear masks.”

  “Kinky, I like how you think.” Clint checked the settings on his camera. “You want to direct a scene?”

  “Are you serious?” Anya said, holding her flaming cheeks. “I couldn’t do that.”

  “Just talk dirty to them. I’ll film the rest.” He held up his camera.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “In the meantime, can I use you as a model for the sample footage I need to test for the lighting? You can keep your clothes on. Or not.” He gave her a once-over. “You look beautiful.”

  She pulled her shirt down slightly to show off her cleavage. When he whipped the camera up, Anya laughed and covered herself.

  “Sure.” She wiggled her butt at him as they left the studio.

  “Keep tempting me to spank that,” he said, “and see where it gets you.”

  Anya shivered. She liked his master voice.

  They spent a few hours taking some campy footage of her dancing in and out of the scenes, pretending to be shocked.

  “Okay,” Clint said, “give me your intrigued look.”

  “I’m ready for my close-up now.” She batted her eyelashes at him.

  Walking in close to her, Clint backed her up into the wall and kissed her. What took him so long? Anya sagged into his arms, deepening the kiss. The best thing about making out in a dungeon was no one cared. The worst thing about making out in a dungeon was people continued doing their own thing as if you weren’t there.

  “I’ve got the butt plugs ready for the scene,” Steve, one of the Doms, said. “I’m going to put them in the cabinet next to the harnesses and whips.”

  “Giddyap,” Clint muttered against her lips.

  Anya spoiled the erotic moment by laughing. Her body was still tingling.

  “You know,” he said conversationally, “if we were lovers for a couple of months, I’d close the curtain and fuck you over that sawhorse.”

  “Giddyap,” she breathed.

  “Tempting,” he said. “But the first time is going to be long and memorable.”

  “What are you doing tonight?” she asked. “After the after-party?”

  “Sleeping,” he said regretfully. “Tomorrow night, I just have to run an adult Truth or Dare. You’re welcome to join in. And Thursday, I’ve got another dungeon shoot. Actually, if you want to come to that, you can watch. Dina likes an audience.”

  “Okay.” Anya found herself agreeing. Anything to be with him.

  “I’ll see you at the concert; you’ll be with Colleen, right?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe I b
etter go check.”

  He kissed her again. “Can’t wait to see you.”

  “I haven’t left yet.” She caressed his back and shoulders, loving the hard planes of his muscles.

  They continued kissing, each reluctant to let the other go. Anya’s pulse was hammering every time his hand skimmed over her body. She was so ready for that giddyap, her hands went to the buttons on his pants.

  “I’m looking for Clint Reyes,” the strident voice of a vulture seeking prey called out.

  “I hate her,” Anya said, and peered over Clint’s arm to see Rita standing there with her hand on her hip. At least Rita wasn’t gunning for her. Yet.

  “Duty calls.” Clint kissed her one last time.

  “Watch out,” Anya said, holding on to his arm. “She’s a man-eater.”

  “I got this.” He winked at her.

  There was no way in hell Anya wanted to leave Rita and Clint alone, especially in a sex dungeon. But her phone buzzed, signaling a text from Colleen.

  Come up to my office. We’ve got trouble.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Hell no, Cesare di Giovanni is not getting a members-only pass,” Colleen said, putting her hands out to soothe Anya, whose enraged screech had Nefertiti running into the office. “He called me up, said he was in town and wanted to come down and see Couture. Luckily, I had an excuse with Switchblade coming here tonight so I didn’t have to be rude and tell him flat-out no way in hell. He then spent a half hour grilling me about you.”

  “He was probably on the phone with you as soon as I got into my car. What did you say?”

  “I said you were doing fantastic and had moved on. I suggested he do the same.”

  “He was hinting around about Club Inferno over coffee. I bet Rita told him about it,” Anya said. Honestly, she was more worried about Rita talking to Clint than Cesare trying to worm his way into Couture.

  “If she did, she’s not going to be here for very long.”

  “Don’t kick her out. She’s the type of person who will go right to TMZ and the press. She’ll out Couture in a heartbeat.”