by Angela Price
“Come, my office is here.”
He enters a door, and opens it for me. The room is a good size, and comfortably furnished. There are a few bookcases, mostly filled with awards and other memorabilia; not very many books.
His desk is large, and covered with papers and invoices. I step inside, and sit down in a chair facing it. He starts to go behind the desk, but thinks better of it and leans across the front instead, his flat stomach and muscular build obvious in fitted clothes. I’m suddenly aware that my face is right on level with his crotch, and I wonder if he planned it that way.
“Sadie…may I call you Sadie? Or shall I call you Miss Graves?” he asks, his manners intact.
“You may certainly call me Sadie. You wanted to see me, and I’m here. How can I help you?”
He smiles, and looks a little wry. “I know Lucas hates me, Sadie, and I’m sure he’s said nothing but unkind things about me and this operation, but…” I pause him.
“Now wait; that isn’t fair. I don’t know what happened between you and Lucas, and its none of my business. I’m here to talk about staff uniforms, if that’s what you want. But I’m not here to talk about Lucas, and we aren’t a couple. So get to it, Jonathan, or I’ll be on my way. I’m not a big night-clubber.” He tries to hide his surprise. “Lucas told he himself that he was in a relationship with you.”
“I understand that. But what he neglected to tell me is that he is also in a relationship with Violet Emery. I’m not into sharing.” I sigh.
He looks at me thoughtfully. “Can I ask you a question, Sadie? Without offending you?”
“You can try” I smile wistfully.
“Have you been with many men?”
Ah. The loaded question. “I’m sure it’s obvious. I haven’t. In fact, I’ve only been with Lucas.”
His eyes widen slightly. “I see.” He takes a deep breath.
“Okay, let’s stick to business here” he says, briskly changing the subject. “I want latex uniforms for all my female staffers. They have to be covered enough to do their jobs without being exposed – bending, lifting, getting things that require stretching. But they need to look sexy. The only color I’m interested in is black, and they need one for every day of the week that we’re open. That means five days; five outfits. There are fifty-two women who work here, bartending, serving cocktails and waitressing. That means I need two hundred and sixty uniforms, cut to fit. I’d also like latex bow ties for the male employees. There are twenty-six of them. They need at least three apiece, so that’s seventy-eight ties. I’d like you to walk around with me to see what other suggestions you might make on dress, if you’re willing.”
“All right” I say, standing up. He pauses, just for a second.
“Sadie, you’re going to see some things in the lower level that might disturb you. And you might get incredibly turned on. I don’t want to minimize what you might see. I sensed that you were inexperienced, and in this place that quality is like blood in shark-infested water. Hell, even I want to pull your skirt up right now and bury my face between your legs.” I color immediately.
“But you won’t” I say, levelly.
“Not unless you change your mind. But if you do, I’m bringing you back in here, and I’m going to slide you back onto my desk and eat your pussy until you beg me to fuck you.” My belly does a high, hard cartwheel. He reaches out, and touches the bow at my throat, his eyes never leaving mine. “Lucas Sutton isn’t very smart, is he?” He looks thoughtful, and releases my ribbon.
I don’t say anything, and I try to control the low level of sexual excitement I feel toward Jonathan. This guy is animal. Whew.
Sadie, you’re just lonely. Deep breath, sister.
He opens the door, waiting for me to follow him into the club. And so, I do.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Locked Out of Heaven”
Bruno Mars, Unorthodox Jukebox
Latex is located in an old bank building, and has something different on each of its six floors. The uppermost floors are private, for VIPs and other regular patrons. The next three floors are limited to straight drinking and dancing. The basement floor originally housed twelve bank vaults, which are used now for live sex shows. They feature both amateur and professional sex performers, in straight, BDSM and gay scenes. There’s a steep cover charge to access the lowest level, not to mention a required metal detector and full bag and body search of patrons. Jonathan isn’t taking any chances on the safety of his performers, and the bouncers are armed and dangerous.
We take an elevator to the lowest level and he checks in with the bouncers to let them know he’s bringing me along. They nod curtly to me as we walk past. Jonathan and I walk slowly past the first vignette. The room is small, and its audience is full. There’s a wooden stage at the end of the narrow room. The lighting is perfectly balanced so you can see every body part, yet it’s flattering to the performers. There’s a naked man tied to an inverted triangle, and he’s gagged. His eyes are wide open. I realize he’s moving his sex in and out of a rubber vaginal replica, in time. There’s a whirring sound emanating from it. Ah, vibration. I’m repulsed but unable to look away. Over him, holding a long, thin cane in one hand is a redheaded dominatrix. She’s wearing a teal-colored corset and matching thigh-high boots, her breasts exposed. She doesn’t have anything on from the waist down.
She’s holding a remote control in her other hand. Turning the vibration on and off, I guess.
My breath catches in my throat. I recognize her, of course.
It’s Sidney Poole.
Since she’s otherwise engaged, I know Sidney can’t – or won’t - see me. I press Jonathan’s hand to let him know I’m ready to move along. There’s a crack of cane against flesh as we walk out, and I’m glad I’m not looking. The remaining vignettes are full of naked people in various positions, having sex. Jesus. I feel flushed, guilty for seeing what’s in front of me. And I’m wet. Really wet. I can see why people are down here. No one seems like they’re bothering anyone else, though the clientele is mostly men. Every lone man around me has a slightly dazed look, like he needs sexual release, and soon. Couples aren’t sure whether to watch what’s happening in front of them, or to touch their companion all over.
Jonathan leans over to me. “Do you feel it, now? The excitement?” He moves me in the crowd until I’m in front of him, and then he reaches around and slips his hand into my shirt. He pulls my demi bra cup down and fills his hand with my breast. He squeezes one long nipple between his thumb and index finger. My sex clenches, but he’s the wrong man. There’s only one man I want to touch me there. The thought saddens me. The man I want is with someone else tonight, and he’ll be kissing her at midnight. I’m in a sex dungeon on the Lower East Side, getting felt up by this moron.
Damnation.
I move expertly away from him and close my shirt. I turn around, look at him seriously in the eyes, and shake my head. No.
He leans forward. “I had to try, Sadie. You’re special. Lovely, really. I apologize; it’s easy to get out of line down here.” I nod, and tilt my head toward the elevator indicating that I’m ready to go. He acknowledges me and we start moving.
We’re almost past the last vignette when I look up. This live sex stuff is like a train wreck; it’s like I can’t not look. Why is that? I think about Lucas losing Sidney Poole, to this lifestyle. What a shitty trade. A life of love and intimacy, for…nothing.
The last vault has a black contraption in it, made out of ropes or webbing. There’s a woman tangled up in it. It’s holding her up, though, and that’s a good thing, because her sex partner is fucking her hard, and she’s gasping out little cries of pleasure mixed with something close to anxiety. The room is full to bursting with onlookers. The man’s thick penis is sliding in and out of her with a smacking sound; his balls are slapping her rhythmically. He’s built, and he’s grunting with satisfaction. He pauses to flip her over, and she’s facedown, his cock banging into her sex, her ass jiggling
with each thrust. He reaches around her rib cage to pinch her nipples, and whispers to her, loud enough for everyone to hear, “You like that, don’t you baby? Tell me that feels good. I want you to say it.” She groans, between gasps. When she doesn’t speak right away, he rams her with his cock faster and faster.
My brain makes the connection before my conscious mind does.
I start to run, out of the vault space and toward the elevator. No wait, there are stairs.
Jonathan can’t keep up with me. No one can.
It’s him.
It’s Dusty Kennon.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Last Request”
Paolo Nutini, These Streets
I spill out onto the sidewalk, and my mind starts racing.
I still have my purse clutched in my hands, and inside of it is my cell phone. I pull it out and call Peter, but his number goes straight to voicemail. Figures.
I’ve left my coat inside, and it’s freezing. I’m suddenly aware that I didn't have a panic attack, and I just saw my abuser. I’m oddly pleased. And I thank my stars that he didn’t see me. I have to process this. I’m not sure what it means, but it all means something.
I look at my texts. There’s one from Emma, telling me:
U B CAREFUL! <3 U!
And only one more. My heart almost stops. It’s from Lucas.
SADIE, I HOPE YOU’RE SAFE WHEREVER YOU ARE TONIGHT. I MISS YOU EVERY DAY. HAPPY NEW YEAR. LUCAS
His text is only a few minutes old. I feel desperate, and I miss him so deeply right now that I’m probably not thinking straight. I text him back.
LUCAS, I NEED HELP. CAN YOU PLEASE SEND EDGAR TO GET ME? I WENT OUT WITH PETER AND NOW I CAN’T FIND HIM. I’M TWO BLOCKS OVER FROM LATEX, BUT I’M GOING TO KEEP WALKING. PLEASE. Sadie
My phone rings within one second. I don’t even get to say hello.
“Jesus Christ, Sadie! What in the hell? You’re in danger. Are there any restaurants nearby?’
I sigh, irritated. “Yes, I see a pizza place ahead.” I tell him the name and he tells me the car will come to get me within minutes. He hangs up without saying goodbye. That’s a nasty habit, Lucas. Really.
I buy a coke from the 24-hour pizza shop and sit down at a table to wait for Edgar. It’s sticky, I notice idly. Imagine that. I put my forehead into my hand, and mentally check out for a few seconds. One of the pizza guys asks if I’m okay, and I smile wanly at him and say yes, I’m fine. I’m cold, I think. But fine.
The door to the restaurant flies open and Lucas comes inside. Oh. He’s still the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. I think he’s gotten more beautiful, if that’s possible. Or maybe I’ve just missed seeing him so much that he’s gotten more attractive. Who knows? He’s wearing jeans, sneakers and a sweatshirt. My sex clenches so hard that I have to take a deep breath.
He’s not dressed up.
I stand in my skirt and tall heels, and he looks me up and down, letting out a low whistle. “Hi, Sadie. You look delicious.” My panties are still wet, and just looking at him gives me the most intense feeling of sexual longing I’ve ever had. I have all these mental images of fucking and sucking in my mind, and it’s been weeks since we’ve been together. I can barely speak.
I clear my throat and lick my lips. “Um, hi, Lucas. I, ah…wasn’t expecting you to come here. I figured you’d be busy tonight.”
“No, I’ve been hanging out with Sadie Sutton.” He moves closer to me, and takes my hand in his. I feel like I’m vibrating when he touches me. He looks at me, and his eyes open wide. “Mmm. I felt that.”
I try desperately not to make an improper response. I’m going to do something dumb, I just feel it.
“Come on, I’m taking you home.” He turns around, my hand in his, and heads toward the car.
Inside, he doesn’t sit too close to me, which is a blessing. Because I’m a sexual landmine right now. One false move and KABOOM. I suppress a smile. What in the hell is wrong with me?
I shake my head. Maybe that will clear out those thoughts.
We ride in silence and I realize soon enough that we’re headed to 66th street. “Lucas, I thought you were taking me home?”
He looks serious. “Sadie, it’s New Year’s Eve. There’s no way I’m risking getting into traffic with a bunch of drunks tonight, and it’s already ten o’clock. You can stay with me, and I’ll take you back tomorrow. Do you need to let Jenny know where you are?”
“No, she’s with her parents on Long Island this weekend. She won’t be back for two more days.”
“Hmm. Okay.”
“Will Violet be upset that I called you? I’m not trying to create problems. And, I’m really grateful for you, Lucas. This is something a real friend would do. I won’t forget it.”
He looks over at me, an incredulous look on his face. “Sadie, baby. You just don’t get it. I haven’t seen Violet since the last day I saw you. I’m trying to prove a point.”
He slides close to me and pulls me to him.
“I need to kiss you, Sadie. Need it. Seriously.”
I smile a little at him, remembering his words to me in my bedroom, the morning we first were intimate.
“I don’t want to kiss you in the car, in front of your staff. Okay?”
“All right.” He backs away slightly.
We arrive at his building, take the elevator to the fourth floor and walk into the great room. “Go to my room. Don’t get ready for bed.” I nod, feeling that uncomfortable feeling of unsatisfied sexual need between my legs. I feel like those guys at Latex looked.
In need of a serious fucking, my brain whispers. No doubt.
I wander into Lucas’ room and sit in an upholstered chair by the bed. It feels good in here; warm and comfortable. The door opens and a curious little canine face peeks in. Sadie. She pushes her way in and lopes over to a little dog bed in a corner.
Lucas comes in the room with a glass of ice water for me, and two aspirin. “I just figured you got stressed out; thought these might help.” He hands them to me. I take the water and swallow them down.
“Now, tell me what you were doing tonight.” He looks calm and interested, not nuclear, so I explain about the uniforms and my meeting with Jonathan. His eyes go dark, but when I tell him about going downstairs he becomes visibly upset. “Sadie, that’s a good place to get yourself raped. Every man there is on hard. Did Jonathan try to take advantage of you?”
The last sentence is a whisper. “Were you turned on?” He looks stricken, but resigned to whatever I say. After all, there’s no reason why I can’t sleep with other people. He knows this. After all, he has.
“Actually, he stuck his hand in my shirt and squeezed my nipple. It was already long, so I guess he thought that was what I wanted. We were watching a woman give her partner head, and she was really enjoying it. It was incredibly arousing. You’d have to be dead to not be turned on in that place.”
Lucas’ breath catches, and he licks his lips. “What did you do?”
“I closed my shirt and told him no, and he apologized.”
“You were aroused?”
“Yes, very.” I squeeze my thighs together, remembering it. I shut my eyes, for a second.
“Tell me what you saw.” He grabs my hands and pulls me from the chair to the mattress. I sink onto it, now sitting right next to him.
“Well, there was a man sitting on a loveseat, and the woman undid his pants and pulled out his penis and she started licking the head, just softly at first. He immediately got excited. And then she started licking him all over, and sucking him, until she got most of him in her mouth. She gradually brought him closer to orgasm, and he was whispering to her how good it felt…and she was moaning; it was very, very sexy.”
Lucas eases one hand under my skirt, and slips a finger inside my panties. He closes his eyes and groans when he feels how slippery I am, and then he’s kissing me, hands everywhere. It’s like he wants to devour me.
He breaks and pulls away. “You were t
his excited, and you said no? Why?” he looks jealous, confused and incredibly full of need all at the same time.
“I don’t know, Lucas. I just…didn’t want him touching me. I only wanted you to touch me. It was simple, really.”
And with that, he’s mine. His need is at least as powerful as what I’m feeling. He has all my clothes off in no time, but he leaves on my stockings, my shoes…and the ribbon.
He’s between my legs, excitedly licking me into orgasm, two fingers inside me, when he pauses to exclaim over the length of my clitoris. I prop myself up on one arm to look at it. It’s almost as long as the first knuckle on my little finger. I watch him tongue and suck it, and I blow apart when I pinch my own nipples at the same time. Oh my God. He knows exactly how to make me come.
I gratefully give him head, watching the end of his shaft swell and redden. “Oh, Sadie. Shit. Baby, you’re incredible.” I love pleasing him, but soon he pauses me. “I have to be inside you now. Please?”
He pulls me to the edge of the bed and rocks his entire length into me on the first thrust. I cry out in enjoyment, and he quickens, thrusting in me faster, groaning and panting as he speeds up. He watches our bodies join with a look of both desire and turmoil on his face. He wants to come, but he’s holding back. Between my trip to the dungeon and the orgasm he gave me, everything south of my navel is drenched in wetness. His cock is shiny with lubrication, grinding rhythmically into me. He stops, flips me over and enters me from behind; haltingly telling me between thrusts that he loves the feeling of being fully inside me, all the way. He grips my hips, and moves slower, almost at release.