Chapter 7 – Alyssa
Damnit, Julian!
I should’ve known he was going to do something. He’s always pulling “surprises” like this, and I’m pretty sure it’s because he gets off on seeing how shocked I am every. Single. Time.
The asshole took my unknowing ass to a sex club, for crying out loud. I don’t care how nice and swanky it is. There are people hitting home runs on a stage in front of me, and all I want to do is go to the damn bathroom and tinkle.
And run into a couple of lesbians getting their Sapphic freak on in the stall next to mine, but that’s the least of my concerns right now.
See, theoretically, none of this bothers me. I probably would’ve been excited to come if he had gone over it with me first. Maybe, I dunno, asked. (It’s such a strange concept for him, I know.) My life basically revolves around this asshole springing me with surprises like “Put on your slinky cocktail dress, Alyssa,” and “By the way, here’s your collar, Princess. We’re going to a BDSM dungeon tonight! What? It’s for rich people. It’s totally legit.”
Him telling me to put my iPad away sealed the deal. It was one thing to ask me to dress up like an expensive ho because it was part of this place’s dress code. Quite another to imply that we’re here to get comfortable, not to do business. Nope. I suppose that’s for the big lunch meeting we’re doing at a fancy restaurant tomorrow afternoon.
“What the fuck,” I ask my reflection in the toilet paper dispenser. Beside me, one lucky woman is having the public bathroom orgasm of her life, and her female partner is encouraging her to do it louder. “What the fuck, Alyssa.”
I pull my phone out of my purse even though the line is now out the door because me and the lesbians are squatting in our stalls instead of getting a move on with our bladders. Cheers as friends recognize each other, some with the lushest European and Latin accents you’ve ever heard, sound through the large restroom. At least they drown out the woman coming in the stall next to mine.
I want to text someone… but who the hell do I text about this? My friends from school wouldn’t be able to handle this. They barely handle me going out with a billionaire. A sex club would go way over their heads.
When I emerge from my stall, I find a long line of the most beautiful women in the world. Supermodels. Heiresses. Lower class women who are hot and submissive enough to get cheap admission if they promise to entertain the men here. Many of them are on their phones taking selfies, texting friends, swearing at missing dates… and is one of them talking to her mom back in Taiwan? What a world.
A world I’m not entirely sure I belong in.
I mean, look at me. Or don’t. God knows I’m not interested in looking at my reflection right now. I’m still kind of a wreck after the long plane ride here. I thought Julian and I would be meeting Mr. Monroe and his crew in a quiet place to discuss actual business. Heaven forbid!
The server isn’t around to show me back to the VIP room. I know where it is. Finding the stairs isn’t the problem. The problem is finding my way through the growing crowd on this wild Friday night.
No wonder Mr. Monroe is one of the richest men in America. He has one of the most successful clubs in the world. And for rich people! Drinks here have to cost a thousand bucks a bottle! Well, some of them must…
I am so out of my element. Jasmine Cole couldn’t have prepared me for this. I don’t think anyone could have… least of all Julian, who thinks springing surprises on me is the funniest thing in the world. It’s a miracle I survived April Fool’s in his presence.
“Hey, sweetie.” A tall, imposing woman in all black leans against the wall in the shadows. I didn’t even see her as I tried to pass. “Don’t suppose you came here alone, because you’ve been fun to watch.”
“I…” Who is this? Why is she talking to me? Everything’s loaded with double-entendres, isn’t it? Ones that I can’t even understand! “I’m here with someone, sorry.”
“Oh, well.” She shrugs her lean shoulders. A look that implies I may have walked away from the night of my life hits me like a slap to the face. “Maybe next time, honey.”
“I’m here with Julian Marcus.”
Well, shit! Why did I feel compelled to say something like that? Do I think throwing my boyfriend’s name at her is going to change anything? Why… why am I touching the little leather collar around my neck?
Deep down, I know why. Julian has practically trained me for moments like these.
Other people are going to hit on me wherever we go. Not only do I have to know how to gracefully turn them down, I have to make sure they know who they are possibly fucking with.
As if on cue, the alpha woman’s confident countenance falters. “I see. Didn’t know he was in town.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Right. Grace and dignity. I don’t want to insult this woman… even though she thought it perfectly pertinent to hit on me as I walked by her. In a sex club, but whatever. “Excuse me. He is expecting me upstairs.”
“In the Diamond VIP lounge?”
“Absolutely.” Should I also mention that he’s doing business with the Damon Monroe, the owner of this fine establishment?
Nah. I’ll let her figure that out for herself.
I find the staircase without anyone else hitting on me. It’s almost as if some silent signal has gone out in the club marking me as taken, and it’s not the collar people can’t see until they get closer to me. It’s something else.
Like, oh, Julian leaning against the railing above the main room, his powerful figure incapable of facing anyone but me as I carefully come up the stairs.
“Enjoying the sights?” I ask him. Our host is having a small conference with two of his bodyguards. It doesn’t look serious, but it may spell an early ending to our otherwise pleasant evening.
Julian looks me up and down as I come closer to him. “I always do, Lyssa.”
I instantly enter his hold the moment he offers it to me. It may be fairly warm in this club, but there’s nowhere I’d rather be than wrapped up in Julian’s embrace. Especially if it’s his warmth doing most of the heating up around here.
“You’ll never guess what happened on the way back from the bathroom.”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “Someone hit on you, didn’t they?”
Nerves erupt in my poor body. “How did you know?”
“Because the party’s starting on a Friday night in a sexually charged playground. I’d be personally mortified if no one hit on you when you were caught in the wild, Lyssa.”
“Well…” I swallow. “It wasn’t just anybody. It was a woman.”
“Oh?” That has certainly piqued my boyfriend’s interest. “Now there’s a thought. My lovely Lyssa in the clutches of an experienced Domme. The east coast doesn’t hurt for them, that’s for sure, and it’s not only to perform for money and fame on the sex club stage.”
“Pretty sure you don’t want me cheating on you with a woman, though.” Come on, this is Julian. The one with a gay brother? If any billionaire would consider even homosexual cheating still cheating, it’s Julian. Although..
“Was thinking more about something fun we might be able to do together one day.”
Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me at all, either. “One thing at a time, please. Let’s save the threesomes for a special occasion.”
“With me, my sweet,” Julian says with an extra squeeze to my torso, “every day is a special occasion.”
Instead of rolling my eyes – with a smile, of course – I look over Julian’s shoulder. Mr. Monroe is picking up his small amount of things and stepping out with one of his bodyguards. To us, he says, “Afraid I must be going now. We still on for tomorrow?”
Julian confirms. I wish Mr. Monroe a pleasant evening, although knowing him and how money works now, he’s off to the hospital for a late night visit with his wife and newborn before wandering home.
“Make sure that Mr. Marcus and Ms. Pendleton are well-tended to until they leave,” Mr. Monroe says to the server. “Whatever they desire, Lucy.”
She bows in his direction before turning toward us.
Whatever we desire, huh? Considering what Julian said, I don’t know how I feel about looking at this young woman through a new pair of eyes. Shit. Is it because of all the sex going on around here that’s filling my head with horrible ideas? Or are they good ideas?
No, no… they’re horrible, because poor Lucy is only trying to work, and here Julian and I are talking about threesomes with other women! I mean, it’s probably nothing she’s not used to hearing in this club, but I’m acting like she’s some kind of escort who only doubles as a waitress at a club.
For all I know, though, she is an escort!
“We’re fine for now,” Julian says. “Thank you, Lucy.” He nods to Stu, still on stoic duty, before leading me back to our couch. We sit down as the song changes from hard and feisty to slow and sensual. “You may not believe me right now, Lyssa, but it pleases me to not only know that other people see what I see in you, but that you were able to graciously turn them down. Or at least I assume you did.”
He’s looking at my throat when he says that. I slip my hand between his legs, my pinky dangerously close to coming into contact with…
His hard-on. Because of course he’s erect.
I know every inch of this man’s cock by now, but I’m still shocked when I get this kind of reaction from him. And, hell, I may have been a virgin when he first stuck it in me, but I wasn’t a stranger to dick. Not even my previous third-base partners got this ready for me. I once told Julian about my ex-boyfriend and how he couldn’t stay hard for five seconds. To that, Julian had said, “You’ll never have that problem with me. And if I do get that old, I’ve got the money to afford the best medication. So like I said… never a problem.”
When we first started this contractual relationship, I thought jealousy would be a huge issue with him. As it so happens, Julian only gets jealous and borderline possessive if he thinks I’m the one interested in someone else. Men (and women, I guess) being interested in me is a simple fact of life that can be a source of pride for him. After all, what man doesn’t want to believe that he’s dating one of the most desirable women in the world?
I don’t think I am. One of the most desirable, that is. I’m simply Alyssa Pendleton. If anything, the only thing I’ve got going for me is that Julian thinks I’m the damned bee’s knees.
Well, I guess that’s the only thing that really does matter, huh?
“So what do you think of a place like this, Lyssa?”
I’m glad for the slight change in topic. “It’s certainly interesting. Wish you had given me some warning, though.”
“Warning?” His eyes widen. “Who needs a warning for fun like this?”
“Please don’t tell me you’ve got other surprises up your sleeve.”
His eyes are not getting any smaller. Not even when he grins at me.
Whelp.
