by M. S. Parker
I hadn't planned on going to a club the day after I arrived, but I had a couple outfits that would work. After going through them all, I wished I'd had a chance to go shopping, but in the end, I went with my favorite little black dress. I'd been told that it made me look older, which was a good thing when trying to pass for the age on my fake ID.
Since I had some skin exposed between my mid-thigh hemline and my mid-calf boots, I opted to take a taxi. Judging by the way the cab driver's eyebrows went up, Club Privé was well-known in New York, which did nothing to soothe my nerves. I pulled my phone out of my purse to see if Dax had sent me anything about how I was supposed to get in, but there was nothing. I assumed he left my name with the man at the door, and I'd just have to wait until I got through the line, but when the taxi pulled up in front of the club, there was no line.
I frowned, but paid the cab driver and got out. The man standing at the door was large, but he smiled warmly at the couple who approached him, then opened the door for them. His smile wasn't quite as wide for me, but he was definitely more pleasant than the bouncer I'd met at the club I'd gone to back in DC.
“Membership ID?”
I gave him a startled look. “Membership ID?”
“Club Privé is a private club for members only,” he said. While he wasn't rude or even abrupt, I got the feeling this wasn't the first time he'd had to turn someone away with this explanation. “Guests have to come in with a member.”
“What about an employee?”
The man gave me a hard look. “Which employee?”
“Dax Prevot.”
“Are you Bryne?”
I nodded.
The man reached for the door. “Dax is working security on the floor tonight. You should be able to spot him next to the bar. Stay on the first floor. Second floor is for VIP members only.”
“Thank you,” I said as I hurried past him. I hadn't needed to get my ID out, so I wasn't going to risk him asking for it now.
I blinked as I stepped inside, my eyes needing a moment to adjust to the lower club lighting. It wasn't the pulsing, flashing lights I'd expected. In fact, none of this was what I'd expected. The music was danceable but not the electronic beats most clubs used. There was something sensual, silky, about it, and as I looked at the people around me, I realized why.
This wasn't just any club. It was a sex club. And based on some of the leather and chains I saw, it seemed to cater to the S&M crowd. The membership requirement made more sense now.
There didn't appear to be anything inappropriate going on as I walked toward the bar, but I had to force myself not to stare at some of the people moving around me. The clothing was as varied as the people. Some were in what I thought of as normal clubbing clothes, showing fair amounts of skin, but not unusual. Others barely had the essentials covered despite the cold outside.
“Bryne!”
I heard my name above the music and turned. Dax stepped out of the shadows, and I allowed myself a moment to appreciate how good he looked. He slid his hand up my arm and leaned in until his mouth was near my ear. Damn, he smelled good.
“You want something to drink?”
I'd told myself that I wouldn’t drink tonight, if only because I wanted to keep my wits about me, but the sudden onslaught of nerves that I'd gotten the moment Dax's hand touched me made me reconsider my position.
“Nothing too strong.”
Dax nodded to show he heard me and turned to the bartender. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but a minute later, he handed me a glass with something pink inside. If he'd been some random guy I'd just met, I wouldn't have taken a drink from him, but the fact that he was security here made me think that he wouldn't risk his job by slipping me a drug.
I settled onto one of the barstools and sipped my drink as Dax moved to stand behind me. I could feel his eyes on me but kept watching the dance floor. When he leaned close enough for me to feel the heat from his body, my pussy throbbed.
I'd never had a serious boyfriend, and I'd never gone further than some hands-on action, but that had all been by choice. I'd always known that if I got involved with a man, my choice would be scrutinized to death by my mother and my great-grandparents, as well as every member of their social circle. If I was ever foolish enough to have a one-night stand, there would've been no way I could've kept it to myself.
When I first started thinking about moving to New York, dating wasn’t in the forefront of my mind, but the closer my move had gotten to becoming a reality, the more I realized exactly what it would mean to be away from my mother and her expectations. I could do what I wanted to do, and my mother wouldn't know about anything unless I told her.
And there was one thing I definitely didn't want my mom to know was on my agenda. Namely, sex.
“What do you think?” Dax asked, his breath hot against my ear.
A shiver went down my spine as his fingers brushed against my back. I gulped down the rest of my drink, letting the alcohol burn its way down my throat. I was going to need some more liquid courage before I answered that question.
By the time the club closed, I'd consumed more pretty pink drinks than I cared to count, and all of my worries had faded away. The world was overly bright and a bit fuzzy, but I wasn't slurring my words, and I was completely capable of walking by myself.
That last one was the current point of contention between Dax and me.
“I don't need your help.” I glared up at him as I tried to pull my arm away.
Dax grinned down at me, seeming more amused by my protests than moved by them. “I'm not letting you walk out there in those heels. You'll break your neck, and my boss will have my ass.”
I made a dismissive sound. “Your boss won't fire you. Rich guys like that only care about money.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Trust me, Gavin Manning isn't your average rich guy.”
I stopped and stared up at Dax. “Gavin Manning is your boss?”
Someone bumped into me from behind, and I lost my balance, stumbling into Dax. His arms automatically went around me, and I found myself pressed against his chest. If I'd been completely sober, I would've immediately extricated myself and tried to play it cool, out of habit more than anything else. At the moment, however, I gave into what I wanted and wrapped my arms around his waist, breathing deeply, getting lost in the scent of soap and sweat and him.
“Bryne.” Dax shifted so that I'd look up at him. His expression was serious. “How drunk are you?”
I considered the question seriously, wanting to make sure that I clearly understood what was about to happen. When I was satisfied that I could still think, I answered, “I'm sober enough to know I want you to come back to my hotel room with me tonight.”
His features softened, and he lifted my chin to look directly into my eyes, desire and something else flaring hot behind his. He ran a thumb over my bottom lip and growled low in his chest.
“So beautiful,” he murmured. “Unique.”
The fact that he waited to answer made me even more certain that this was what I wanted. He might've had a rough exterior, but he wasn't a bad guy. My gut had been right about that. And there was definitely a connection between us.
“I'm not looking for a relationship.”
I shrugged as I ran my hands around to his chest. Damn, he was firm. “Me either.”
I knew there was a chance I'd regret this, but it was my choice, and that was what mattered. I'd come here to start taking control of my life, and this would be my first big step.
His eyes narrowed, and the world around us fell away. For a few seconds, all that existed was the two of us. Then he nodded and bent his head. The moment his lips touched mine, heat shot through me, and I knew I'd made the right choice. I'd had some good kisses, or at least I'd thought so at the time. Dax blew them all away.
When he finally released me, I swayed on my feet, and it had little to do with the drinks I'd consumed. My lips tingled, and my body demanded more. Any doubts I might've had about him
being my first were gone. I wasn't a prude, and I hadn't been waiting for a serious relationship to come along. I'd been telling the truth when I said that I wasn't looking for anything permanent. I wanted sex, and I didn’t want to settle for taking care of things myself tonight.
Dax slid his arm around my waist as he hailed a taxi. We spoke very little during the ride to my hotel, but the air around us almost seemed to crackle with electricity. I was hyper aware of every place our bodies touched, and judging by the way Dax's fingers tightened around my hip every so often, he was too.
By the time we were walking down the hallway, my nerves were stretched taut with equal parts anticipation and anxiety. I opened the door and stepped inside, wondering what I was supposed to do next.
Fortunately, Dax didn't let me wonder for long. Before the door was even closed, his mouth was on mine again. Any previous gentleness was gone as he claimed me, teeth and tongue demanding even as his hands moved over me. I managed to get my boots off, then let out a startled squeak when he lifted me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist, moaning into his mouth as he hardened against me.
I was vaguely aware that we were moving but was more concerned with the feel of his hair between my fingers, the movement of his tongue with mine. Then we were falling back onto the bed, and he released me to catch himself on his hands, his body stretched out above me.
My pulse was racing as he pushed himself up on his knees and pulled his shirt off. My breath caught as I took in the sight of him. The tattoos on his arms linked to swirls of black ink on his chest and ribcage before disappearing to his back. A small silver stud was through one nipple, and I shivered at the thought of how it must've felt to be pierced there. One of my friends back home had tried to convince me to get it done, but I'd chickened out. There was nothing chicken about this man.
“Your turn.” His eyes were dark as he stared down at me.
Wiggling under him, I managed to pull my dress up and over my head, liking the way his eyes lingered on me as I slowly exposed the matching bra and panty set I'd worn underneath.
He leaned over me, his mouth taking mine again as he moved us farther up on the bed. One hand slid between us, unhooking my bra before tossing the garment aside. His hand covered my breast, his palm against the hard point of my nipple. I gasped as his fingers teased and rolled the sensitive flesh, sending pulses of pleasure through me. Then those long fingers were moving down my stomach and under my panties.
I'd touched myself before, and I'd had a couple dates who'd done some over-the-clothes groping, but I'd never had someone else's fingers between my legs. I bit down on Dax's bottom lip as a finger slid between my folds. The tip brushed against my clit, and I pushed my hips up against his hand, wanting more.
“Damn,” he murmured as his mouth moved across my jaw. “So wet.”
His finger slipped inside me, and I made a small sound. He pressed his lips against the side of my neck, and I closed my eyes, letting myself be lost in the sensations of his finger moving inside me, his thumb rubbing against my clit. I could feel his teeth worrying at the skin on my neck, the pull of his mouth, and I knew I'd have a mark in the morning. I might be annoyed then, but at the moment, I only wanted him to make me come. I could feel the orgasm building inside me, the way pleasure was coiling, twisting, waiting to explode.
A second finger joined the first, and now my hips were moving in time with his strokes. Then his fingers bent, moved, and I cried out as they rubbed over my g-spot. Little white dots danced across my vision, and Dax swore as I dug my nails into his shoulders. His mouth closed over my nipple, and his attentions roughened. Hard suction, sharp teeth, and the sort of pressure between my legs that told me a climax was not far off.
My muscles tightened, and I was there. I made a sound I didn't recognize, twisting my body this way and that, though I wasn't sure if I was trying to get away from Dax or trying to get closer. It didn't matter either way. He was the one in control. A second wave of pleasure washed over me, and I could barely breathe.
I wasn't even aware that Dax had moved until I heard a tearing sound and forced my eyes open. He was kneeling between my legs, his jeans pushed down to his thighs so I could see that he wasn't wearing anything underneath. As I watched, he rolled the condom over the long, thick shaft that curved up toward his stomach. My pussy clenched at the sight of it even as I realized how much bigger he was than the toy I’d packed away in one of my bags. He probably wouldn't be able to tell that I was a virgin, but it was going to be a tight fit.
He leaned over me again, pulling aside the now-soaked crotch of my panties. The rough material of his jeans rubbed against my thighs, and then the tip of him pushed against my entrance. I looked up to find him watching me closely. There was lust in his eyes, and I could feel the tension in his body, but he still took the time to make sure I still agreed to this.
I nodded, biting down on my bottom lip as he eased his way inside. As I stretched to accommodate him, I slid my hand around to his chest, needing a distraction from the nearly overwhelming sensations rippling across my nerves. My fingers found his piercing, and as I began to play with it, Dax stilled, his body stiffening. I looked up as he growled, then cried out as he drove the rest of his cock into me with one hard thrust.
I whimpered, nails scratching at his chest, muscles trembling. I didn't know what to feel. The edge of pain that came with a deeper penetration than I'd prepared myself for. The almost unbearable fullness of being completely and totally filled. Or the pleasure from the way his body pressed into mine.
Before I was completely ready, he began to move, each stroke going deep. He wasn't being too rough, but there was no gentleness to it either. This wasn't making love or even having sex. This was fucking, pure and simple.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and began to move with him, urging him to take me harder and faster. I wanted to feel him inside me for days, wanted the memory of my first time to be branded in my mind. To be the standard against which all other encounters would be measured, even if there were no romantic feelings involved.
He shifted, the movement causing the head of his cock to drag across my g-spot with every thrust. I kept my grip on him with one hand and moved the other down between us. I moaned as my fingers touched my clit, the bundle of nerves slick and swollen. Dax's hips jerked as I clenched around him.
“Fuck.”
He sounded like he was close to losing it, so I began to move my fingers over and around my clit, using the pressure and motions that I knew would get me off. His mouth closed over mine, and I parted my lips, letting his tongue mimic what his cock was doing. He slid one hand under my head, fingers tightening in my hair until it hurt.
He tore his mouth from mine. “Fucking come, Bryne. I can't hold back any longer.”
He slammed into me hard enough to make me cry out, then did it again, forcing my orgasm to break over me. The pleasure was sharp, almost brutal, and I clung to Dax as he pushed himself deep, his muscles tensing. He let out a groan and pressed his face against the side of my neck.
We stayed locked together until the sensations began to ebb, and then Dax rolled off of me. I stared up at the ceiling, suddenly sober, and trying to figure out what I was supposed to do now. I was mostly naked and completely uncertain about whether or not I should cover myself or act like the nudity was no big deal.
I clearly hadn't thought this thing through as much as I thought I had.
Dax sat up, pulled off the condom and tossed it into the trashcan next to the bed. Without looking at me, he stood, pulled his pants up, and then bent to pick up his shirt.
“That was fun.” He pulled his shirt over his head. “See you around, Bryne.”
I watched as he walked out without a backwards glance. As the door clicked shut behind him, I wondered if I'd just made a horrible mistake.
Chapter 4
Okay, so I'd told myself that I wouldn't get all upset when the one-night stand I'd initiated was over. And I wasn't upset. Not exactly. I wasn't
all weepy and wondering why Dax had walked out with barely a word. After all, he hadn't pretended this would be anything other than what it was. I wasn't angry at him or anything like that. And I wasn't really angry at myself.
I just wasn't sure if sleeping with a guy I'd just met on my second night in a new city had been the best move. Still, it had at least been my decision, made free of all the pressures that came with living in DC. It wasn't upset, I finally decided, but rather regret I was feeling, and regret I could handle.
As I finally started to fall asleep, I reminded myself that at least the sex had been good. All right, beyond good. My entire body was still humming.
When I woke up the next morning, I felt better. Yes, I'd had sex. Great, toe-curling, sex with a smoking hot guy. It hadn't been pity sex or sloppy drunken sex. It'd been two consenting adults who wanted each other. A decision I'd made for myself, and one I refused to let myself regret.
First things first though. I needed a shower. By the time I got out, I felt more prepared to figure out what I should do next. For most people who moved, getting a job would be first priority, but thanks to the inheritance I'd gotten from Nana and Papa's estate, employment was only as much of an issue as I wanted it to be.
Which meant that I could focus on the other reason I'd chosen New York City as my destination. I wanted to act, but I was hoping to make it on Broadway rather than in film or on TV, so NYC made sense. What had solidified it for me, however, was the letter my mother and I had found while going through some of Nana and Papa's things.
As I worked my brush through my hair, I paced, trying to figure out how to get the information I needed without risking seeing Dax again. I wasn't angry at him, but I didn't want him to think I was a stalker or some pitiful girl who couldn’t let go. If I went back to Club Privé tonight, I was sure that's what he'd think. But I had to go back. It was the only lead I had.