Heat (7 page)

“No, I’m calling you picky, stuck up, and tight-assed.”

“Well, that’s okay then,” Mallory said, mollified. She rooted through the clothes and held up a leather skirt and electric-blue silk shell.

Colleen nodded. “That’ll do. Your shoes have to go.”

“I like my sneakers.”

“We’re not playing basketball.”

“I can’t wear heels. They hurt my feet.”

“Of course they hurt your feet. But they’re worth it.”

“I don’t like pain.”

“Do you want cheese to go with that whine? Look, I’ll compromise. You and I probably still wear the same size shoes. If I give you a pair of my low-heel”—she sneered—“boots, will you wear them?”

“Sure.” Mallory smiled. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d rifled through her sister’s closet. It would be the first time Colleen knew about it, though.

“I’ll see what I can find.”

Colleen went into another room and Mallory heard her go downstairs.

“This place is like Hogwarts for adults.” Mallory shucked off her clothes and put on her new duds. As far as her comfort level went, this outfit was pretty tame. She was looking forward to the party and dancing. Although she wished she could keep her jeans—the leather skirt wasn’t really her style. She was in the bathroom looking at her reflection and tugging on the hem of the skirt when the deafening noise of the dance floor flooded the apartment and was instantly cut off. She walked out to greet the newcomers, but the sight she encountered stopped her dead in her tracks.

The couple was clenched tightly together. The woman’s legs were wrapped around her partner’s waist and they were kissing as if it were better to suffocate than to come up for air. He carried her into the living room, his hands cupping her curved backside before he ripped her thong off with a sharp jerk of his hand.

Mallory closed her mouth and swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. The man turned and she saw his finely muscled back was tattooed with a dragon. She watched the beast flinch and move as the muscles of his body clenched. He was wearing fight pants and for an instant, she thought it was Max. But this man was a blond. The woman unhooked one leg from around his waist and pushed down his pants with her foot, revealing a taut ass that made Mallory’s knees weak. She sagged against the doorframe and tried to get the words “Excuse me” out. But when the woman impaled herself on the man, tightening her legs back around him, Mallory skulked back into the bathroom and pressed her hands to her flushed face.

Now what?
Did she hide until it was over? Did she interrupt them? What was the
etiquette involved?

Unable to see the pair coupling didn’t make the experience any less tame. Mallory gripped the sink as she listened to their grunting sounds of bliss and the thud of a wall where he slammed her into it. The woman keened affirmations and Mallory slid to the floor to wait it out. Still revved from this afternoon, the hard slap of their bodies and the man’s muffled groans of encouragement had Mallory trembling. But for the first time in a long while, it wasn’t from fear. She took a moment to revel in that triumph. She couldn’t say this was normal, but it was the closest thing to that she’d felt since the whole David ordeal began.

I don’t want to think about him
.

Mallory leaned back against the wall, where she could just make out the man’s fine ass as he pumped in and out of the woman. She saw the woman’s toes curl in satisfaction.

I want to think about this
.

Slowly, Mallory slid her hand under the miniskirt. Her panties were damp when she plunged her fingers in. Gliding through her thick, wet folds, she tickled her tightened bud in response to the enthusiastic pair in the living room.

Mallory moved her fingers to the man’s rhythm as he pounded into the woman. They were kissing again, as if starved for each other’s mouth. His strokes were longer now as he went up on his toes to enter deeper. Mallory pushed two fingers inside herself and her eyes half closed as she pictured being the one against the wall.

The man’s breathing became harsher. Loud guttural moans stretched out until his lower half thrust into the woman in a frenzied pace. Mallory matched it and her muscles clenched in ecstasy as the orgasm hit her. He shouted in triumph, and for a moment the only sound in the apartment was the three of them breathing.

“Oh Sam,” the woman said. “That was incredible.”

Mallory watched him ease out of her and set her gently on her feet.

He kissed her again. “I aim to please, Angie. I’d take you on the floor next, but the damn rug would give you rug burns.”

Holy crap! That was Angie from Max’s scene
.

“I don’t mind,” Angie breathed.

“The bedroom is much more comfortable.” Mallory darted back away from the door, but not before Sam had turned and looked right at her—and gave her a saucy wink. “And big enough for three.”

Mallory hid in the bathroom until she heard the bedroom door close. Scrambling to her feet, she fixed her clothes and splashed some water on her face. Instead of feeling shame, she felt exhilarated.

I guess Max isn’t the only one who likes to watch
.

Colleen came back up the stairs about fifteen minutes later and Mallory was waiting for her.

“There are people having sex in the bedroom,” Mallory hissed at her sister, grabbing her arm.

Colleen frowned. “How many people?”

“Two.”

Colleen’s face cleared. “Yes, that’s correct.”

“You could have warned me.”

“I thought you were going to follow me downstairs instead of staying up here like the Queen of Sheba.”

Mallory grabbed the boots out of her sister’s hands and sat down to zip them up.

“What did you think of Sam?”

“Hubba hubba,” Mallory said.

“He’s a dear. But don’t take him too seriously. He’ll break your heart.”

“I’m not planning on taking him at all.”

“That’s a shame. He really is a good time.”

“Is he one of your ‘instructors’?” Mallory said the last word twitching her fingers in air quotes.

“Not tonight he’s not.” Colleen looked her up and down. “I suppose you’re presentable.”

“Gee, thanks.” Mallory stuck her tongue out at her sister behind her back.

The music hit her in the face when they walked back into the club. Mallory looked back, but she couldn’t find the secret door at first glance. She was trying so hard, she almost bumped into the thrones, which were no longer empty.

A woman with plum-size breasts, naked as the day she was born, waved a penis-shaped scepter at her before sucking on it—much to the delight of the cheering crowd. She could see that the Happy Buzz people spent a lot on advertising. There were company banners up, and more than a few people were wearing T-shirts with their logo on it.

The king was dressed in leather chaps and nothing else, and he was enthusiastically whipping the couple that had been kneeling in front of the thrones. They were on their hands and knees, and she could see fine red lines crisscrossing along their backs.

“Jackson is a master with the whip,” Colleen said when she looked back and saw Mallory was gaping. She had to practically yell in her ear over the noise of the music and the crowd.

“What’s it feel like? Doesn’t that hurt?”

Colleen cocked her head. “A bit. At first. Then the endorphins kick in.”

“I had to ask,” Mallory said, not sure whether to be appalled or intrigued. “I thought the fashion side would be a little more … I don’t know. Stuck up?”

“The people here tonight are prospective members to the VIP side of Couture. If they can’t handle this, they can’t handle Club Inferno.” Colleen led her to the middle of the dance floor. “I have a Master’s class to teach tonight. Have fun. If you decide you want to get lucky, use a condom, please.”

“Wait, you’re leaving me here all alone?”

Colleen fixed her with a stare. “Go make friends. Dance. Have a drink, for crying out loud. You’re safe here.”

Mallory felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes.
Crap
, she was a mess if she was getting all choked up about being safe in a sexy nightclub. “Thanks, sis.”

Colleen shook her head and hurried through the crowd. They had their ups and downs, but her sister always had her back. Mallory spun around in a circle, taking in the flashing lights and people dancing. Making her way up to the bar, she eavesdropped in on a few conversations.

“It’s like he has magic fingers! I haven’t had a massage so relaxing in decades.”

“I didn’t like the taste of it on the banana. I don’t think it’s the good chocolate.”

“It’s a video game, but you wear a full-body sensory suit.”

Mallory ordered a Manhattan and charged it to her room. Leaning her back against the bar, she took in the Hot Spot in all its glory. There was a man hanging upside down from a rack. He was naked except for a tiny leather G-string. Women were lining up to spank him. He already had several handprints on his muscled backside. Without realizing it, she had drained her glass. The man was let down after a few minutes, and while his cheeks were as flushed as his backside, he was grinning broadly.

Safe, sane, and consensual. Just like Max said.

Ordering another drink, she sipped delicately through the tiny bar straw and felt her hips sway with the Pitbull song the band was playing. The dancers were writhing together in a sea of flesh and leather. The stress that had been bunched into a ball in the center of her back started to ease for the first time since she’d left David. She was surrounded by people having fun and losing their inhibitions—along with several items of clothing. Tugging down self-consciously on her skirt, Mallory scanned the bar area. She should have fought to keep on her jeans.

Several men and a few women made eye contact, and she knew all she had to do was walk over and say hello and she could be out on the dance floor grinding with a stranger. A tickle of excitement started in her belly and her breathing quickened. Would she wind up with her legs wrapped around some muscled stud, while he nailed her against the wall? She finished the drink in a quick swallow and ordered a third.

Deciding to take it easy because the dance floor was tilting a bit, Mallory ate the cherry out of her drink and tried to tamp down her frustration. It was almost enough to make her wish David were here, just so she’d have someone to take into a dark corner or one of those rooms that looked like confessional booths. Mallory made her way over to one. She looked over her shoulder, but no one seemed to think anything was amiss. Opening the door, she sat on the bench. It was nice to be off her feet, and the wooden booth muted some of the Ke$ha remix that was blaring while the band took a break.

The small room had a bench and four walls. It resembled a confessional, but without all the religious baggage. There was a window carved in the wall about face height. After taking a fortifying sip of her drink, she slid it open. A blindfolded man looked up at the noise. He was shackled to the wall. His jeans were puddled around his ankles and a woman was on her knees with his cock in her mouth. Mallory watched her head bob up and down his shaft, her hair flying around her face. The man strained at his bonds, writhing in ecstasy.

“You like to watch?” he said in a husky voice.

“Yeah,” she surprised herself by answering.

“I like an audience. Are you in there alone?”

“Yeah.” She took a drink.

“That’s a shame. There’s room enough there for two. Are you wearing a skirt?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Go find someone to lift it up and give it to you while you watch. I’ll be here all night.”

“Oh.” Mallory leaned back, shutting the window. She tanked the drink, feeling the wetness between her thighs and a pulsing need to do exactly what the man suggested. She sat there for a moment, her head spinning pleasantly. Mallory was reaching the stage where she didn’t have to think anymore and she was beginning to like it.

The band started playing “Time Warp” from
The Rocky Horror Picture Show
as she left the booth. She shimmied over to the bar for a refill. Manhattans tasted good. She finished that one quickly so she could get in line with the rest of the partygoers with her hands on her hips. Maybe she could dance away the need to have sex. Or maybe she should go back to her room and break in the new vibrator.

“Having a good time?” Max said.

Whirling, she put her hand on Max’s naked chest. His hair was loose and hanging down to his shoulders in a soft, black wave. Women were gawking at him and Mallory stepped in closer, as if staking a claim. “I’m so happy to see you,” she gushed, while the tiny part of her brain that was still sober tried to tell her something very important. But she didn’t want to listen to it. “Do you want to go into the confessional booth with me?”

“The what?” He saw where she was pointing. “Hell yeah, but I don’t think you know
what you’re asking.” His smile flashed and he held her close to him when she jumped to the left and almost fell on her ass. “Wow, you’re trashed.”

“I’m having a great time,” Mallory told him. “You’re so strong and handsome.”

“Yeah, I hear that a lot from drunk women.” He swayed with her, dancing to the beat. Mallory had to hold on because the room was spinning.

“I think you hear that from sober ones too. Buy me a drink?”

“I think you’ve had a few drinks too many. This is your first night at the Hot Spot, after all; you might want to ease into this.”

“I have, but don’t worry. I plan on being on time for your nine a.m. class. But you have to tell me, why nine? Noon is good. Maybe some people want to sleep in after a night of boozing and whipping.” She leaned in close to him. “Did you know that Jackson is a master with the whip?”

“My goodness, Dr. Bryant, you
have
been sowing some wild oats tonight, haven’t you?” Max said. “I didn’t peg you for the BDSM type.”

“I’m not usually. But Colleen had to go teach a class. She said the dolphins were good.”

“Dolphins?” He looked into her eyes, cocking his head.

“Yeah, the pain only hurts until the dolphins come in.”

“Endorphins.”