Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72648 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72648 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
I went crazy on my hair and makeup tonight too. Wavy curls and a windblown beachy look, plus dark shadow and eyeliner with ruby red lipstick, sends the clear message that I’m up for a wild time tonight. As I looked at myself for a final time in my bathroom mirror, I knew tonight was more about me feeling good about myself after Caleb broke me down than anything, and I was not going to shortchange myself in any respect.
Essentially, I’m going all in.
I move past other club members and make my way down the short hallway that leads out to The Deck. I’m not quite sure what to expect, but given the name “The Deck,” I’m going to assume it is just that. An outdoor gathering place.
What I don’t expect as soon as I open the door and step outside is that this part of the sex club, while indeed an outdoor venue, is made entirely of transparent acrylic so you can see straight down, 40 stories, to the city below. For a brief moment, my stomach lurches as I have the sensation that I’m getting ready to fall. I grip onto the door handle and balance myself as I take a deep breath.
Lifting my head, I glance around to take in my surroundings. In addition to the see-through deck, the furniture—chaises, chairs, tables, bar—are also made from acrylic, so nothing impedes the view.
To my left is a bar area where I spot Declan at the end. Casually dressed in a pair of charcoal-gray pants and a white, button-down shirt opened at his throat, he has a drink before him. His eyes are pinned on me—first on my face—then they make a slow roll down my body and back up again. His lips tip up in appreciation.
After another deep breath, I release the door handle, then take steady steps in my high heels across the acrylic toward him. There don’t seem to be many people out here. Perhaps it’s the slight chill in the evening air, or maybe things don’t get started until later. There is a handful of men standing in a group. Bachelor party, perhaps? There’s one other couple at the bar—a man and a woman—with their heads close together, clearly murmuring dirty things to each other.
When I reach Declan, he asks, “Would you like a drink?”
I shake my head as I reach out and pick up the glass sitting before him. I dip my head and sniff. Bourbon.
Lifting his glass to my lips, I take a deep swallow before setting it back down to the bar top. “I’m good.”
Reaching a hand out, Declan slides his fingertips over the patch of bare shoulder showing. “One of the great things about a sex club is it isn’t necessary to waste time on social niceties or foreplay.”
“You can get right down to the heart of the matter,” I say in acknowledgment.
Declan’s gaze moves from where his fingertips are sliding against my skin to lock onto my face. “Efficiency at its finest,” he murmurs.
Without warning, his hands move to my waist and he pulls me in. I gasp. His legs spread out from his barstool. He draws me in until his thighs cage me in. “But I happen to like foreplay.”
His words send a shiver up my spine. They seem promising and ominous at the same time. I have no choice but to leverage myself by putting my hands on his shoulders because the next thing I know, he’s pulling my dress over my head. I have a brief flash of self-consciousness as I realize I’m the only one out here without any clothing.
“Nice,” Declan rumbles as he notices I didn’t bother with panties.
He also notices something else different from the last time. His eyes narrow before coming to meet my own with an appreciative smile. “You waxed?”
I nod, once again feeling strangely self-conscious. I don’t want him, however, to think I did this just for him.
For tonight.
“About a week ago. I like the feeling.”
I was a big-time waxer when I was married to Caleb. He’d always seemed to like it. After the divorce, though, those barren times when I wasn’t having sex with anybody, I hadn’t felt the need. But Declan reawakened my sexual side, so I decided to go bare again. It feels better whether I’m taking a shower with water pelting down on my slick skin or touching myself.
I imagine it’s going to feel over-sensitized tonight, and I can’t wait.
Declan’s palms come to cup my jawline on either side of my face, and he dips his head in closer to me. “I need to know if you have any lines you don’t want to cross tonight?”
I am not unprepared for this question. I have spent a lot of time over the past few weeks—not only for my job but to assuage my general curiosities—researching sex clubs. I’ve seen enough to know exactly what goes on here, and I feel well informed.