The Club (4 page)

My ragged breath
shudders as I smile and close my eyes. My entire body is rocked with a shiver
as one of her fingers brushes delicately across my breast.

“What is your
fantasy?” She cups my breast, squishing it. “Go for something you think you
won’t ever have. Something really erotic.”

Somehow the
words fall from my lips. “My fantasy is to have sex with someone, like in a
room full of people but no one knows we are doing it. To be seen but not seen.”
I confess, but she stops touching me. She pulls away, leaving me breathless and
wondering what the hell is going on.

I swear I
blink and the clicking of my heels on the cement makes me realize we are out of
the car in a magical courtyard. There are lanterns and sparkly lights
surrounding us, casting shadows with the trees all around. “What is this
place?” The twinkling lights twirl in the air as if they are stars in the sky.

Out of the
haze of twinkling lights, a man in a black mask and a well tailored suit walks
up to me along the walkway to the house that resembles a castle. He smiles from
under the mask, and I can’t help but give him the look, as if I am safer from
under the mask.

He’s wearing a
black pinstripe suit with a red tie. He’s tall with a larger build and
sandy-brown hair that is styled like he means business, something that makes me
grin. At first I’m certain he’s a dream, the way the lights sparkle and the way
he looks exactly like Prince Charming. As he gets closer his navy-blue eyes
catch mine from behind his black mask. I am memorized by everything about him
and the best I can do is wobble and sway, muttering, “Hi.”

“Hello,” he
nods, going past me, taking the vision of beauty with him.

It’s dark
inside as I enter, not even realizing I have left the magical garden. The
hallway of the house is huge, with red and black couches filled with people
sitting and laughing. They each hold a drink or are making out with the person
next to them. It moves like an ocean, riding the waves of music. Nothing is too
loud or too cold or too much of anything. It’s perfect. The air tickles me, the
song plays inside of me, and the waves of the movements are seamless.

I trail along
the hall that’s wide enough to be a room, running my finger along the blood-red
wall as I round the corner. Everyone is speaking to others in dark corners,
hiding in thick drapes, or leaning against walls that the light doesn't quite
reach.

People rub and
grind their bodies against each other, and for some bizarre reason I want to
join in. I want to do this. It feels fantastic, like I could dance with and rub
against anyone. I walk toward a room filled with people dancing in a way I
didn't expect. They waltz and move as if I have gone back in time. The fancy
dresses, albeit short ones, make the dance moves seem fluid.

The crowd on
the edges is liquid too; they move in waves of laughter and drinking. They
don't stumble the way I do and somehow they manage to secretly run their hands
across my body. My coat is dragged off as hands squeeze my breasts through the
silky fabric of my dress. My movements are lost in the moments I can’t trace,
part of the haze that is the room and my fuzzy mind.

Hands grab me,
pulling me back to grind my ass in the stranger’s hard groin. Someone kisses my
neck as a young woman with a black dress and red mask approaches us. She runs her
hands through my hair, touching my face and leaving wet kisses on my chest as I
grind harder into the groin behind me. He grips me tighter, wanting more from
me as the woman with the red mask brushes her lips against mine, pushing her
tongue in. She devours me as my hands instinctively reach up to her supple
breasts. I can’t fight the drive and hunger I suddenly have for her. We each
are exploring each other’s bodies, pinching and teasing the hard nipples we
find beneath the silky dresses. The hands behind me probe under my dress,
slipping it to the side, thrusting fingers into me. She and I whimper with
pleasure into each other’s mouths. She is quivering from my rolling the bud of
her nipple between them as I am from the fingers dragging from my wet pussy
lazily and thrusting back in. I lean down, pulling at her dress to expose her
breasts. The small nipples pucker in my mouth from the strain of my biting
them.

He grabs my
hips and thrusts his hard cock between my ass cheeks while circling over my
clit. I gasp as he rubs me harder, feeling the wetness slip his fingers into
me, as the three of us grind and touch each other.

She pulls away
from us, moving to another crowd of people, touching and kissing at them like
she did me. I want to follow but the man I cannot see spins me around, pressing
his lips on me hard. The kiss softens as his tongue finds its way into my
mouth. He sucks my tongue, stroking it like a blowjob.

He releases me
from what might be the most interesting kiss of my life and drags me through
the crowd of lustful people. We arrive at an empty couch where he sits, pulling
me into his lap and continues to kiss me as his hand slips inside my underwear
again. He pulls them to the side, rubbing circles around my clit. I moan,
gyrating my hips with his moving finger as he sinks two in, moving in and out
fluidly as I arch my back and push down on his fingers. I want more until my
body tenses up and lets go, coming on his hand as he continues his assault
inside of me. He pulls his hand out, sucking his fingertips clean of the
essence of me. It’s easily the hottest thing I have ever seen.

He pulls me
down, kissing me again, but this time it’s a passionate kiss not a dirty fast
one, but a slow kiss—one that makes your toes curl.

My mouth pulls
back from his so I can ask the thing I know I shouldn't. “I want to see your
face. What’s your name?”

“You can’t,
you know the rules.” He grins like he likes this feature of the pervy club.

“I hate
rules,” I mutter as he kisses my jawline, working his way down my neck. My head
starts to come out of the fog and somehow I want him even more. “I want you to
fuck me.” I bite at my lip, scared to be rejected.

He laughs,
rubbing his still rock-hard cock against me as he nibbles my neck. “I got
exactly what I wanted from you and in due time we are both going to get more,
trust me.”

“You don't
want me?” I ask, afraid of the question as he touches my hair, running his
hands through it again.

“I want you.”

I close my
eyes, relieved but confused. The moment has a sobering effect but it doesn't
last long as his hot breath lands again on my lips, licking and tracing them
with his tongue. “I want to have sex with you,” I whimper as he grinds his cock
into my underwear.

“Good.” He
moans and rubs me in his lap harder.

“I need to
feel you inside me, right now,” I growl, closing my eyes when he tears at my
dress, pulling it down to expose my breasts. His lips encompass my nipples,
sucking on them and pulling at them. I moan loudly, pushing harder into the
rigid cock straining against his suit.

“I want you
naked in my bed, screaming my name,” he groans as I ride him, gyrating my hips
in circles like a lap dance, needing more.

“Tell me your
name.” I groan as he bites down and lifts me off the couch with his hard
thrusting.

“I can’t and
you know that.” He moans and tenses his body, letting his come explode inside
of his suit, leaving him a mess and both of us breathless.

He lifts me
off his body, holding my face and staring into my eyes as we both attempt to
catch our breath.

I don't know
why but I sort of like this game of masked crusader.

The lights in
my room are killing my eyes as I peek through my lashes and wince at the sun
blaring through the cracks in the blinds.

I sit up fast,
looking down.

How did I get
home?

Memories start
drifting back in. Memories of me begging for sex and a beautiful man driving me
home.

What was I
thinking? What was wrong with me?

Holy mother of
God, I kissed a girl and sucked on her breasts.

What the fuck?

I’m still in
the hideous mini dress and my underwear feel old and gross from being dry
humped on the couch. I need a shower and some holy water and a confessional.

How could I
have let all of that happen? I didn't have sex in college.

Last night was
a write-off, except for him. I cannot stop thinking about him. Part of me is
ashamed for every moment, but the other part is giving myself a high
five—in the vagina.

I get out of
bed, fighting the headache and stomachache lingering inside of me, to get to
the shower. I don't dare look at myself in the mirror. I skip makeup, tie my
hair into a bun, and pull on the comfiest suit I own.

The elevator
ride up to work is worse than the one down from my apartment. Waves of nausea
roll up and down my stomach, churning and gurgling from nerves and whatever else
is in my system.

I almost run
into Brandon when the doors open to him standing, waiting for me. “Morning,
sunshine.” He smiles sweetly as if we are both having a grand fucking morning.
He hands me coffee and instantly turns on his heel, barking away about our
morning.

“We have a
busy day. Are you ready to crush balls and dreams all at once?”

I growl
earning me a wry grin. “Someone seems cheerful, did you have a rough night?” He
looks sideways, giving me a suspicious look when we walk to my office.

“I had a fine
night and I AM cheerful today,” I sigh, sounding less than convincing.

“What did you
do last night?” he asks, making me sigh. I don't answer, but just lean on my
desk, lost in a daydream of the mystery guy.

“Hello?
Hannah?” Brandon waves his hand in my face. “What is going on with you today?
You better watch it, everyone is going to think you’re going soft.” He jokes
and hands me my messages. “Oh right, we have a meeting in ten minutes. Get
ready for it. Bring the bitch out for this one. Apparently, we are dealing with
some guy and his company. There are some people who think he’s an asshole. He
wanted a meeting with you today and he is a new client. Just called us the
other day and sent over some stuff he wants us to do.”

I nod,
ignoring him. Clients aren’t hard to deal with. They‘re all the same. I look
back at Brandon, realizing he’s gone suddenly. I sigh again, staring out the
huge windows of my large office.

Brandon pops
his head back into my office a few moments later. “Ready?” He purses his lips,
realizing I am not myself. “Have you been sitting here this entire time? Have
you gotten ready? Where’s your makeup?”

I flinch. “So
which company is this?” I ask as he hands me my makeup bag. I open it up,
avoiding eye contact as I quickly apply a moderate amount of foundation,
powder, mascara, and gloss. Brandon applies the blush. He thinks by being gay
he has the ability to do makeup but it isn’t the case. He always adds too much.
“Brandon, what company is this?”

“I believe a
little of everything. Last year they were doing some real estate
developing—they were the ones that wanted to expand the shoreline with
apartments last year. I showed you the papers yesterday,” he says quietly as we
walk arm and arm down the hallway.

“I don't
remember. You’ve talked on the phone with them, right?”

“Yes, they
were pushy for this meeting. I think you’ll need to get your bitch on. These
two are smooth talkers and everyone I know says they’re assholes.” He nods at
the room when we round the corner and can see both men in the boardroom. Both
are around my age or a bit older. One is wearing a nice dark-grey suit with a
baby-blue tie. It fits him perfectly, forming around his sculpted muscles. His
hair is sandy brown, cut short, and nicely styled. He has a wide jaw and a rugged
face. He looks like he’ll be fun to wrestle with.

The other one
is shorter but not as good looking. He has on a black suit with a reddish tie.
He almost looks like a surfer dude in a suit.

They both turn
as soon as we enter, fixing their ties, and walk over to Brandon and me.

I put my
resting bitch face back on, walking confidently over to them, holding my hand
out to the one in the dark grey suit. “Good morning. I’m Hannah Edwards.” I nod
as he takes my hand, squeezing it in the handshake, almost gripping me too
tight. His dark blue eyes light up slightly.

“Logan
Bennett. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Edwards.” He curls his lip up as
he says my name, as if it’s weird for him to be saying it. Jesus, what has he
heard about me? Am I another Jenny, a hapless divorcée?

I let go of
his hand, noticing right away he flexes as if I have squeezed too hard. The
entire interaction is awkward. I try to ignore it, reaching for the other man
to shake his hand. “Hannah Edwards, lovely to meet you.” I smile at him as he
takes my hand, shaking firmly. He moves like he might kiss the back of my hand
but doesn't act on the response that seems as if it might be second nature to
him.

“Hugh Simmons.
It is a pleasure to meet you as well.” He raises his eyebrows at me. I can see
the smooth operators they are, but I have no time nor desire to have my hands
kissed and their smooth talking couldn't fall on worse ears than mine.

I hold my hand
out to the right. “This is Brandon Howell, my assistant. He will be the one to
call if you need anything.” I find a chair and sit with Brandon beside me.

“So if I need
a question answered, it will be Brandon answering it in the future?” Logan
asks, annoyed almost.

“Yes.” I don’t
smile when I look them both in the eyes. I have dealt with this sort of
bullshit my entire career. Men have no issue dealing with a pretty assistant as
long as she fits the mold, but they always have an issue with the woman being
the boss and the gay guy being the assistant. It drives me to a savage place. A
stabby place.

“If we need to
reach you?” Logan asks, narrowing his gaze.

“We sort of
assumed you would be at our beck and call.” Hugh crosses his legs, tapping
lightly on the arm of the chair.

“I do all the
research and risk assessment. My workload for each client is lengthy and drawn
out when a takeover is being contemplated. Would you rather me on the phone,
twirling my hair for you or with my face stuck in a history of the company’s
hidden endeavors?”

They both
offer up raised brow stares each.

“I don't get
paid to twirl my hair, gentlemen. I pass on the information to Brandon. He has
much nicer hair and a better set of social graces than I do. He is just as
informed about your company and future endeavors as I am.”

Brandon
chuckles under his breath. Logan nods. “I can see we will be in very capable
hands.”

I nod. “Let us
hash out the details of this company you are wishing to buy, rather then
worrying about the formalities of who you are going to talk to on the phone.”

Logan laughs,
crossing his arms. “Fine!”

I take a deep
breath, catching a whiff of his cologne. It hits me in the face, stopping me
from thinking. I have smelled that before, but where?

He leans in on
me at the large table as I sit down. “Do you need a hand with any of the final
details?” he mutters with his hot breath on the side of my face, sending
shivers down my spine.

I turn, facing
him with a narrow glare, wanting to push him away but there is something about
his eyes and smell that gives me déjà vu.

“No, thank
you.”

Brandon and
Hugh speak over the finer details as they each get a coffee. It dawns on me
then Hugh is also gay and the smooth-talker thing is an act.

Logan nods at
me, still laying it on fairly thick. I can tell his isn’t an act. “You want to
get a drink and talk about the future?”

“I don’t date
clients, thank you anyway.”

He cocks an
eyebrow, offering up a smug grin. “Who said date? I meant business meeting.”

“If you have
any questions or concerns, Brandon can deal with them. I will do everything I
can to expedite the research and get you a list of top candidates I suspect
will be close to running out of options and be prime for the picking.”

“I don’t need
Brandon to deal with me,” he whispers, leaning in closer. “I was hoping we
could have worked closely together.” My stomach drops.

“Mr. Bennett,
it was lovely to meet you and now I have a lot of work to do, Mr. Bennett,” I
say quickly, hating that I’ve just said his name twice in one sentence like a
desperate idiot. He must know he’s unnerving me, even if I refuse to admit it.
I stand abruptly, annoyed by his affect on me. Perhaps it’s the cologne or the
heat of his body next to mine. Either way, the night before has compromised my
judgment and ability to do my job with him in the room.

Brandon gives
me a look but I shake my head subtly. “It was a pleasure to meet you both and I
will have Brandon here finish up with the small details.”

Brandon clasps
his hands together. “We have already hammered out most of the details.”

I shake Hugh’s
hand, realizing how soft and manicured it is. How did I miss that the first
time?

When I shake
Logan’s he slips a card in between our palms. “If you change your mind about
drinks, call, Hannah.” He says my name like it’s something special or just
mystifies him completely.

I swallow
hard, gritting my teeth at his forwardness. “Have a great day.” I turn, running
from the room like a nut.

When I get
back in my office I slump into the chair, wiping the sweat from my brow. I
glance at the glow on my fingertips and wonder how long I was sweating and if
anyone else saw it.

Brandon comes
in moments later, closing the door. “What the hell was that about?” He throws
his hands in the air. “What is wrong with you?”

“Oh my God, I
don't know. He was throwing himself at me.”

“No, you are
in heat. You have desperate divorcée written all over you.” He leans his back
against the door, shaking his head. “What is going on with you? I told you to
bring the bitch and you brought her sleazy sister. You were cat and mousing him
all over that office.”

“I wasn't, I
swear. I just—well, I did something last night and I can’t talk about it.
It has me on edge, and the divorce. I don't know.” I can’t think how to explain
it so I shrug. “I just should have taken a couple days off and I didn't.”

“Well,
whatever it was, I hope you got laid because you are acting like a nut.” He
snaps his fingers at me while pursing his duck lips.

My mouth opens
but my lips don't move. He nods knowingly as I blush and look stunned. He slaps
the folder down on my desk. “Hot damn, that is what I’m talking about. Miss
Hannah got herself some.“ I scowl but he laughs harder. “This is the stuff I
had put together for the meeting, which you just blew off. At least Hugh asked
me out and I am certain Logan is still panting in the elevator. I doubt they
noticed the massive blow off.” He points at me, nodding slightly. “Keep your
secrets, milady, but I can smell orgasm all up in this office. Dirty bitch.” He
opens the door, leaving with a nasty little grin.

I call Bec,
finally responding to the hundred messages she sent while I was in that
meeting.

“Morning.” I
don't know what else to say. How do I explain any of it? I don't even remember
everything and I’m not sure about what I do.

“Omg, how was
last night?” Her voice is desperate.

“It
was—fun.”

“Fun? Fun?
Seriously? That's it?”

I wince,
knowing it will kill her. “I signed a confidentially waver and discloser
agreements. I can say I don't get how Jenny went once. I sort of want to go
again. It was—fun.”

“You had fun?”

“I did, so
please tell Jenny I said thank you.”

She sighs. “I
fucking hate you. Fine, I will. Fuck you. Are we on for drinks later?”

“Yes! Six?”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Bye.” I
hang up, biting my finger and contemplating the entire twenty-four hours.