Club Prive: Sweet Escape (Kindle Worlds Novella) (3 page)

“Please, but I’ll get—”

But she’s already turned on her Manolos and heading to the bar before I can get the rest of it out, her husband smiling at her retreating back.

He turns to face me again. “So you’re new to the city?”

“Yes, moved in a few days ago. I’ve visited often in the past, but this is the first time I’ve ever thought of settling down on the east coast.”

“Tired of all the Los Angeles sun?”

I laugh. “Ask me that in January. I’ve heard winters here can be brutal.”

The application process of becoming a member of this exclusive club had been intense, so I’m not surprised the owner knows so much about me. He probably knows my shoe size as well as the size of my portfolio, which is likely one of the reasons I’m getting such personal attention.

Carrie reappears by her husband’s side and their arms automatically go around each other, as couples seem to innately know how to do. “I was so excited to meet a friend of Krissy and DeVon,” she says as her eyes turn wistful. “I miss them so much. Krissy has been my best friend since forever, and I don’t get to see her nearly enough.”

I shoot a look at Gavin. “May I?”

His eyes narrow, but he nods, almost imperceptibly.

I fold Carrie in my arms for a hug, then bend to plant a kiss on one warm cheek and then the other. “There, gesture delivered. Krissy forced me to swear I’d give you a hug and kiss for her when I saw you.” I grin down into her pink face. “I’m quite sure she misses you too.”

Carrie pulls a phone from somewhere on her person, although I can’t imagine where she could have possibly hidden it in her skin tight dress. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to call Krissy now and let her know her gift was offered and received.” She whirls around and is gone, her finger punching at the screen.

Gavin is still smiling after her, his eyes glued in her direction until she disappears around a corner. “Were you given the tour when you arrived?” he asks, giving me his full attention again.

“I was, and your club is above expectation.”

Pride he doesn’t bother to hide spreads across his features. He turns and places his hands on the balcony railing, the only thing separating us from the dancers twenty feet below. I follow suit and sweep my eyes across the writhing mass of bodies, searching faces. Searching for the one.

“Performances will begin shortly,” he says, nodding toward the stage. There are two scheduled for tonight, and I’ve seen both. They’re very good. You’re welcome to enjoy them closer to the stage, in the members’ exclusive section.” I follow his gesture to the roped off area to the right of the raised platform. “Or from up here, in the VIP lounge. Both areas provide excellent viewpoints.”

Just then, a waitress arrives with two drinks on her tray. Gavin takes them both, passing one to me.

“To new friends,” Gavin says, lifting the cut crystal.

The glass pings as I click mine to his. “Absolutely.”

Turning back to the dance floor below me, I notice a door open across the room, and two women step inside. One is very light. The other dark. The shimmering aqua of the blonde’s dress reflects the lights brilliantly while the brunette’s black dress seems to absorb all the color around her.

Holding hands, the blonde leads the brunette farther into the room and straight to the bar, where she begins chatting up the bartender. The brunette turns, her eyes going everywhere at once, scanning the room, the dancers. Her hand slips up to cover her mouth as a nearly naked man crawls by her, being led by collar and chain by his mistress.

I smile when she tosses back her drink in two long gulps, then turns to her friend for another. The blonde laughs and throws up her hand to get the bartender’s attention.

It’s her first time here, clearly. I can’t help but wonder … are they a couple?

“Do you know those two?” I ask Gavin, and he expertly follows my line of sight without me needing to gesture.

“The blonde is familiar.” He pulls a device out of his pocket and taps on the screen. “Yes, she’s Brooke, a Sub and a guest of one of our members. Another of my wife’s best friends, actually.”

“Are they together?”

Gavin looks at them closer. “It’s possible, although my guess would be no. Would you like an introduction?”

With the new information, my guess would be no as well. If the blonde is a Sub, I can’t imagine the brunette being a Dominant. She doesn’t have that look about her.

Her eyes are too big, searching around the room. The blonde, Brooke I now know, presses another drink into her hand, then grabs her arm, pulling her in the direction of the dance floor. The brunette seems hesitant to go and gestures to a bar top table on one side.

Brooke shakes her head, smiling, encouraging. I can see now that they are good friends, one having finally convinced the other to come out and play. Another question I’m burning to know … will she?

A man approaches the pair, and I find myself holding my breath. He says something to the blonde, who nods and speaks to her friend. The brunette just stares at her with wide eyes, clutching the glass in front of her. The blonde’s smile fades a bit as she shakes her head at the man, unwilling to leave her friend alone so soon after arriving.

They’re closer now, and I can make out the lean muscles in the brunette’s bare arms, the strong collarbone peeking out from the halter of her dress, the front of which covers small breasts whose tips are evident through the thin material. Long, lush hair is swept back from her face, exposing high cheekbones and full lips. Athletic and almost boyish in build, she also radiates femininity, a softness under the olive complexion.

She looks up at the ceiling, revealing a lovely throat and my dick snaps to attention. Her gaze lowers to the balcony on which I’m standing, gliding toward me from the left.

Look at me
, I will her.

Her eyes sweep past me, then snap back to my face an instant later.

That’s right. See me. Feel me. Want me.

I smile when she swallows hard.

Lifting my drink in a silent toast, I’m amused when she looks behind her. To one side and then the other before glancing back up at me.

No, it’s you I see. Only you.

A pink tongue flicks out to moisten her lips, her finger circling the rim of her glass. Trimmed nails, no polish. My gaze drops to her feet, and rose-tipped toes peek out from her strappy sandals.

Refreshing. Not high maintenance. Fresh but vibrant. Strong yet timid. I haven’t been this instantly fascinated by a woman in a long time.

“Are you certain I can’t arrange an introduction?” Gavin asks, his voice amused.

I don’t take my eyes off her, even as her friend pulls her onto the dance floor, and she begins to move to the solid beat of the music. She glances back up at me — a good sign — as her hands weave into the air above her head, her hips swaying seductively side to side.

“Would you have a private room available shortly?” I ask Gavin.

In my periphery, I see him tap his phone and slide his finger a few times. “Actually, I do. My best. Would you like champagne and strawberries waiting? Oysters? Escargot?”

I grin over at him, smiling into the blue eyes so similar to mine. “All of the above, please.”

He takes a step backwards. “I’ll make sure everything is arranged.”

Turning to shake his hand, I say, “Thank you, Gavin. I appreciate the hospitality.”

“Welcome to Club Privé, Gray. May your first evening here be memorable.”

I look down at the swaying girl and murmur. “It will.”

Chapter Four – Avery

As a man crawls on the floor being led around like a dog, I realize I’m not ready at all.

I gulp my drink, hoping it will calm my nerves and make me a hell of a lot less judgmental. Once upon a time, I thought I was open-minded, but I’m realizing just how closed it has been. Of course, maybe it’s only been closed because of what I didn’t know. Sure, I’d read the popular BDSM novels, but what Anna and Christian did in their playroom was nothing compared to this.

Brooke shoves another drink in my hands as a woman walks by wearing a thong with not much else, and her poor ass is striped in red lines. As a healthcare provider, I want to wrestle her to the ground and Neosporin her up. But when she walks up to a man in all leather and accepts his tongue down her throat, I realize she can take care of herself.

“She’s a billionaire,” Brooke shouts and nods at the red-butted woman. “She hit the market big with technology.”

And she likes to be spanked? With a cane?

I’m still trying to wrap my mind around it as Brooke pulls me closer to the dance floor.

“There’s an open table,” I tell her, gesturing to a bar top.

“Let’s dance,” Brooke shouts over the noise and pulls me toward the mass of writhing bodies. Just then, a man approaches. Not just any man, a sexy as hell blond one.

“May I join the two of you?” he asks politely, and I freeze.

Brooke looks over at me, then squeezes my fingers tighter. “Maybe later,” she says to him, and he simply nods and walks away. Brooke squeezes my hand again. “See? You’ll almost never get any pushback and if you do, meet the eyes of one of the bouncers.” I glance around and see huge men strategically placed around the perimeter of the room. “They’ll take care of everything for you.”

I feel myself begin to relax.

“This place is beautiful,” I say and look up at the ceiling so high overhead. It is beautiful. White marble floors. Chandeliers gleaming, the crystal creating prisms that reflect throughout the room. A glorious staircase leading up to a balcony. I wonder what’s up there?

Whoa.

My breath catches as I meet the eyes of a man standing with his hand on the railing. Dark hair, a beard surrounding the most perfect looking lips I’ve ever encountered. I can’t tell the color of his eyes. But I think they’re looking at me.

He lifts his drink and smiles.

Self-consciously, I look over my left shoulder and then my right, making sure he’s not smiling at someone behind me, but there’s no one there. I look back up and notice he’s standing next to someone, maybe his brother. Both men are incredibly handsome, but I’m only drawn to the one.

“Come on, let’s dance,” Brooke yells over the music and I set my empty glass on the table and join her at the edge of the crowd.

As I allow the music to take over, letting it flow through my system, I feel his eyes on me, as if they were caressing my skin. I look up at the balcony again and meet his intense gaze. I turn, desire humming through me, and continue to dance, focusing back on Brooke and the pleasure of simply letting all of the thoughts that constantly circle in my brain go.

The music is driving, the bass thumping through my chest as the song comes to an end and the music changes. Brooke grabs my arm. “There’s about to be a show!” she squeals into my ear.

The dancers all turn toward the stage, scattering to tables or moving closer for a better view. My feet are cemented into place as I watch a man in a tuxedo lead a woman wearing a black fishnet dress up the steps. She’s wearing a collar and six-inch stilettos, her long blonde hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. She’s beautiful. And erotic. The expression on her face serene.

The man whispers something to her, then kisses her cheek, his fingers gliding down her arm to take her hand. The Sub shutters at the touch, and her nipples grow hard through the mesh of her dress, her head bowing in submission. She turns and places her hands behind her back while the Dom picks up a coil of rope. As I watch, he fashions an elaborate set of knots, beginning above the girl’s elbows and stopping at her wrists. He walks her toward a padded bench and presses on the nape of her neck until she’s bent over it, her head and ponytail dangling on the other side. I watch her face as he walks behind her again and notice the small smile playing at her lips.

I jump as the smack of his hand on her ass resounds through the cavernous building, seeming to vibrate through my brain. The Sub’s eyelashes flutter. I can almost hear her sigh. Another smack and she bites her lower lip. Another smack and she cries out, the sound of the most intimate ecstasy. It’s too personal, and I feel like I shouldn’t be witnessing something meant only for them. But I can’t tear my eyes away. Not from the show, but from her face. The surrender and need I see there.

Behind her, the Dom raises the hem of her dress to her waist, and my gaze is pulled to the patchwork of pink and white, the design caused from him spanking her through the fishnet. I squirm as he bends and kisses the damage he’d inflicted, running his tongue over her reddened flesh.

With a knee, he spreads her legs farther, and to my surprise, spanks her between them. She cries out, her head snapping up, the hands bound behind her tightening into fists. He spanks her there again, but this time leaves his hand in place. When he removes it, it’s shiny with her arousal. He shows it to the audience before slowly licking his palm and fingers clean.

Rooted to the spot, I’m not sure if what I’m feeling is revulsion or something raw and primal, but my panties dampen, and I press my thighs together.

The Dom walks to a table where he lights a candle, the tip of the long red taper flaring to life. My stomach churns as he moves to stand over her again. I watch, the breath caught in my lungs as the blood red wax melts and the first drips rain down on her naked bottom, running down the backs of her thighs. She cries out, her head thrown back, her long throat exposed as she screams, “Yes.”

Electricity seems to crackle around me as I feel a man approach me from behind. He stops only inches away, the heat of his body touching mine. The smell of him encloses around me. Citrus and mint, bergamot and thyme. I close my eyes and know it’s
him
. His breath on my hair. His scent. I can almost feel the brush of his beard on my skin. All of my senses come alive before he says the first word.

“May I touch you?”

Gooseflesh raises on my arms and my nipples pebble under the thin silk of my dress. Something deep inside of my belly squeezes in the most delicious way.

My mouth is dry, so I nod and brace for the feel of his fingers on my shoulders or my arms, maybe even my waist. But instead, his hand slides down my hair. He gathers it at the bottom and rolls it up until it’s twisted around his hand, his fist pressed into the nape of my neck.