by Meghan March
This is when it’d be nice to have friends. But working all the time makes having friends inconvenient at best and impossible at worst.
I pull into a parking spot a block away from my apartment, and pick my way down the broken concrete sidewalk to the gate that once again reminds me of the club and the man I’ve got to stop thinking about.
When the metal clangs shut behind me, Harriet’s voice comes from the base of the curved wrought iron staircase just outside her back door that leads up to my apartment.
“Oh good. You saved me from having to climb those awful stairs. I was just about to leave you a note.”
“What’s going on?”
She’s wearing a peach feather boa and a jaunty hat in the same color sits on her curls.
“Taking a last-minute trip with a gentleman friend. I’m past due for renewing my membership in the mile-high club.” Her statement is so matter of fact, that I can’t help but choke on my laugh.
“Where are you headed?”
“Norway, I think. Or maybe he said Nicaragua. It could’ve been Naples. Regardless, it’ll be a good time. I’ll be back in a few weeks. Maybe a month. We’ll see how long he can entertain me.” She bustles over to hug me, and the feather boa tickles my nose. “Take care of yourself, dear. Get some dick.”
I bite my lip to keep my mouth from dropping open as she steps away. Instead, I give her a serious nod. “I’ll work on that.”
She turns, but then spins back around and points at me. “You made something new, didn’t you?”
I nod. “I did.”
“It’s about damn time. That heron is mine if you ever decide to sell it, so don’t you dare unload it while I’m gone.” She waves and twirls, disappearing back into her place through the back door. “Be safe! Don’t forget to use condoms for group sex!” She shuts and locks it without another backward glance, which is probably good because once more, I’m dumbstruck.
As I climb the curving metal staircase, I shake my head. An octogenarian is living a bigger life than me. Or septuagenarian. Either way, Harriet is grabbing life by the horns and I’m . . . waiting for it to come to me.
It’s not until I’m stepping out of the shower that a small voice breaks through my conflicting thoughts. What if I don’t wait? What if I go after it?
I can’t get the possibility out of my head as I wipe the steam from the mirror and face myself.
“Am I done waiting?” I ask my reflection. After a beat, I answer myself. “Yeah, I think I am.”
Wrapped in a towel, I pad out to my living area and grab my phone off the table. I find a number I’ve never had the occasion to use and tap out a text.
* * *
Temperance: Will I be able to get into the club tonight if I don’t have a card?
* * *
My two front teeth worry my lower lip as I set my phone down on the table. Magnolia Maison doesn’t strike me as the type to reply right away.
I force myself to head back into the bathroom and leave it be. That lasts about thirty seconds before I spin around to grab the phone and leave it on the edge of the sink while I do my makeup.
Either way, I’m not going to stay holed up in my apartment tonight. I’m going out, and I’m going to live.
Chapter 20
Temperance
The reply comes as I’m blow-drying my hair.
* * *
Magnolia: You work up the nerve to come and I’ll take care of you.
* * *
It’s like she can see inside my head to the warring thoughts.
Don’t even consider it.
Bad idea.
Come on, what could it hurt?
Maybe if you just go and watch . . .
She’s also right about me having to work up the nerve. It’s a full two hours later when the elegant mansion comes into view.
Every time I’ve come here has been different. The first time, I was completely unprepared. The second time, nervous but excited. This time . . . butterflies the size of turkey vultures flap around in my belly.
I almost chicken out at the gate. But I don’t.
I put my Bronco into park and lean on the steering wheel for a few seconds as I contemplate changing my mind for the hundredth time.
Why don’t I turn around and drive home? Because once I walk in those doors, I don’t have to be me. I don’t have to worry about all the responsibilities hanging over my head, the future, or the past.
I never knew I could crave an escape so much. And then there’s the man.
Whether he’s here or not, he’s unleashed something inside me that I never knew existed.
The valet opens the door and I step out, already wearing my mask. I’m finally starting to feel like I belong. Instead of walking up the stairs with wary steps, I climb them with confidence, my stride evidence of my resolve.
I’m ready for whatever comes next.
Magnolia meets me inside the foyer. “Don’t you look sassy tonight?” She appraises me from head to toe. “Damn, girl. Where you been hiding that body?”
I opted for a red dress that’s been hanging in the back of my closet for a year, unworn and the tags still on. It’s red, formfitting, and scandalous.
It suits my mood perfectly.
“Thanks for letting me come tonight.”
Something twinkles in her eyes, but I don’t know what. Magnolia seems like she has more secrets than the entire Catholic church combined, and I’m not sure I even want to uncover the first layer of them.
“Anything for a friend. You look like you’re here to start a fight between all the men who are going to want a piece of you.”
I may have thought of one specific man as I dug this dress out of my closet, but that’s not something I need to admit.
“I’m just here to watch,” I tell her.
“Sure you are, sweet thing. That’s what they all say at first.” She turns toward the staircase. “But let’s get you a tour anyway. See what you came to see.”
She leads me up the stairs toward the low, rhythmic music coming from the room I’ve yet to see.
“Is that . . . the dungeon?” My question comes out more hesitant than I anticipated, and Magnolia glances over her shoulder.
“Dungeon’s downstairs. We’ll save that for another visit.”
I’m not sure whether I’m disappointed or relieved, but anticipation elbows both emotions out of the way as she pushes open the door.
Dark purple lights bathe the room in color, and a DJ is set up on one end. A long, heavy slab of wood stretches the length of one wall, and is manned by two bartenders.
Several conversation areas are set up in small groupings around the room. Most are occupied.
Masked women sit on the laps of men or curl around other women. There’s no full-on nudity, but plenty of skin is showing.
This is where the foreplay happens.
“This is the mingling area. Great place to trawl for a partner if you’re in the mood for some variety. You’ll always find someone at the bar.”
Two men across the room look our way, one nodding at me.
“They’re good at scenting fresh meat.” She gives me a pointed look. “But as long as you keep it inside the club, you’ll be fine. No one would dare step out of line here. You want to stay or do you want to try something else?”
I take another look around the room, feeling self-conscious when I count the number of eyes on me. None of them belong to him, though.
I told myself I wasn’t going to look for him here. That I didn’t care if he was here.
I actually convinced myself of it, but obviously that didn’t last long.
“What are my other options?”
Magnolia leads me out of the bar area, and the music quiets when the door closes behind us.
“I think you know what else we have to offer. Private viewing rooms. Rooms where you can be viewed. Rooms where you can be tied up and left to wait for a stranger to come fuck you. Pick your poison.”
I�
�m not sure if she’s trying to shock me, but I refuse to show any surprise. “I want to watch.”
“I always knew you had the kink in you. Come with me.” She gives me a wicked smile and precedes me up the stairs to the third floor. “If you want to watch but also be comfortable, I have the perfect room for you.”
“Okay.” My heartbeat accelerates and I tell myself it’s because I’m hoofing it up so many stairs again, but even I know that’s a bullshit excuse.
The two other doors I’ve stepped through stand out like beacons, but we don’t go toward either of them. Instead, she leads me to a new one.
“I think you’ll like what you’ll be able to see from here.”
She pushes the door open to reveal a large curved leather sectional like you would expect to see in a living room, but instead of facing a television, it’s turned toward a viewing window.
“Are all the rooms on this floor for voyeurs?” I ask.
Magnolia nods. “Next level up is all private.” She hands me a remote. “Click this, and the window will defrost and you can enjoy. If anyone bothers you, shoot me a text and I’ll take care of them.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
I wait for Magnolia to leave before I make myself comfortable on the center cushion of the sofa.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I press the button on the remote and the window clears, allowing me a perfect view of another room. It looks like something you’d expect to see in a harem, or at least what I’d imagine a harem would have been like. A huge round cushion takes up a large portion of the room, and sheer fabric drapes down from the ceiling.
But it’s what’s happening on the cushion that sets my blood on fire.
Two men. One woman. She’s spread out between them, and four hands roam her naked body while she arches upward.
Holy hell. A ménage.
My thighs clench together as one man, a blond, spreads the woman’s legs and kneels between them, dragging his tongue along her skin. She moans as the other man sucks on a nipple, keeping her hair fisted in his hand.
I press back against the cushions, my gaze rapt as the kneeling man peels off her panties.
“So wet. You’ve been such a good girl. I think it’s time I eat this juicy cunt.”
I didn’t know it was possible for me to go from nervous to soaking wet in under sixty seconds, but, hey, new personal best.
The man looks to the corner of the room as though seeking permission. “You want to see me lick her pussy? Or should we make her wait?”
My attention zeroes in on the shadowed corner of the room, and I squint like it’s somehow going to help me see who he’s talking to.
There’s a chair in the corner. With a man sitting in it.
Instead of responding verbally, a big hand waves them on as though indicating the man should get to work.
Rather than dragging my gaze back to the threesome spread out on the cushion, I focus on the corner. On him.
There’s not enough light to see a face, but I can see his hand on his knees, gripping as though fighting for control.
They’re big hands, but are they his? Is that why Magnolia brought me here?
A tidal wave of contradicting thoughts washes through my brain.
He likes to watch. He made that perfectly clear.
But if he came here tonight . . . why not invite me?
Was the note a lie? Is he done with me?
Ridiculously, a lash of pain swipes across my confidence.
That asshole.
“Aren’t you going to come join us?” the man at the woman’s breasts says. “You haven’t played in a while. I bet you miss the sweet grip of a hungry pussy.”
I stand and walk toward the glass, straining to hear his answer. “You better not,” I whisper to the empty room, my hands clenching into fists.
Instead of envying the woman with all the attention, I’m consumed with jealousy and want to drag her out by her hair.
What the hell is wrong with me? Why do I care? I can walk my ass right back down to the bar room and pick up a man of my own. He isn’t that special.
I spin on my heel and almost wobble right off it when I realize I’m not alone. A man stands just inside the doorway. My stranger.
“Why don’t you want him to touch her?” The question comes out in almost a mocking tone in that deep, rasping voice. One corner of his mouth curls up in a smirk. “Wishing you had all those hands on you instead?”
“You.” It comes out like a curse. “You—”
He pushes off the door and steps toward me, his gaze predatory. “That’s right. Me. Only me.”
Power rolls off him in waves, and I remember what Magnolia said about him being dangerous.
“I thought you were done with me. Decided to move on to something new and different.” I’m not sure what prompts my honesty, but I have nothing to lose by telling the truth.
He doesn’t slow, and instinctively, I back up until my shoulders hit the glass of the two-way mirror.
“Why would I move on when I haven’t gotten nearly enough of you?” He traps me against the glass, then turns the question around on me. “Why are you here? Looking for something new and different?”
I lift my chin. “Maybe I got tired of waiting.”
He cups the back of my neck, curling his fingers under my chin. “We can’t have that.”
He releases his hold on me only to pick me up and lift me into the air.
“What—”
“You wanted to watch, we’re going to watch, and I’m going to make you wait until all of them come before you get what you want. Time to teach you some patience.”
He settles into the corner cushion of the sofa with me cradled in his arms, both my legs over one thigh and my ass resting on the other.
“But—”
“Watch.”
He turns my chin to face the trio, where one man is still trying to get the man in the corner to participate.
“So you thought that was me? Sitting in the corner, getting ready to jack off while I watch them both take her?”
“Maybe,” I whisper.
“You were jealous.” It’s not a question, but a statement.
“Does it matter?” I look up at him and his pale gaze meets mine.
“It makes me fucking hard to know that you were pissed thinking about it.”
“Then why the lesson in patience?”
“Because I’m a perverse son of a bitch, and I want to make us both suffer.” He drags his tongue over his full bottom lip. “I’m not going to fuck you until you’re dying for it. Maybe we’ll let them watch us to warm them up for round two.”
His suggestion slams into my chest like a freight train. “What? That’s not—”
“Not what? Something that makes your pulse hammer?” He reaches out to press his thumb against my throat. “Because you’re lying if you say yes.”
“I’m not ready for that.”
He strokes my skin. “Now that, I believe. Watch.” He turns my face back toward the window.
One man has his face buried in the woman’s pussy, and she moans while the other holds her thighs apart.
“Have you ever imagined what it’d be like to have two men touching you?”
I shake my head.
“Why not?”
I swallow the saliva pooling in my mouth. “Because . . . it seems wrong.”
“Is any of it really wrong if everyone’s okay with it?”
“I guess not.”
The woman’s back bows off the cushion, and my inner muscles clench at what she must be feeling.
“I bet you’d scream even louder. Two cocks. Four hands. Might finally tame you. Then again, I’m a greedy motherfucker and I like you wild.” He growls the last words, igniting my core, and I shift on his lap. “You like that I want to keep you all to myself. That I’d rather fuck you while they watch, wishing they could have you.”
“I don’t know.” My voice sounds hesitant. Nothing like the
bold me who walked in the front door of this place.
“You do, but you haven’t admitted it to yourself yet. You will.”
The man in the corner stands and approaches the trio.
“My turn.” He unbuttons his pants and pulls out his cock. “I want her mouth.”
My stranger’s hand clasps my ankle before working up my leg to stop on my thigh. “I want your mouth. I want to feel you swallow me down. My cock hitting the back of your throat as you try to take me deeper.”
I suck in a breath.
“I jacked off this week imagining fucking your face. You on your knees in front of me. Those dark brown eyes wide as you swallow every last drop.”
I tear myself away from the scene to meet his heated gaze. He pushes my dress up my thighs and skims a finger over my pussy.
“Fuck me, you’re not wearing panties.” His voice deepens, becoming hoarser.
“You stole them last time.”
“But you didn’t know I’d be here.”
“Maybe I was hoping.”
His finger traces the seam of my lips as he bites down on his. I reach up and use my fingertip to tug his lip free.
“I want to bite your lip.” I don’t know where it came from, but my admission is the truth.
“Then what are you waiting for?”
Boldness, the kind that set me on this path tonight, rises up, and I wrap my hand around his neck, pulling him down to me. I drag my teeth over his full lower lip.
His lungs heave, and before I can finish what I started, he pushes a thick finger inside me. I turn my head into his shoulder as he fucks in and out of me.
“Not. Fair.” I bite out the words, my teeth digging into the muscle hidden beneath the soft fabric.
“Don’t ever expect me to play fair.”
He brings me all the way to the edge, clenching around him, before he pulls away.
“Wait—”
“No, I want you to come on my face.” He moves me off his lap and goes to his knees on the floor. “Watch them and imagine they’re watching you.”
That’s all he says before he buries his face between my legs, lashing me with his tongue.