Scrupulous (An Affliction of Falling Novel Book 1) (13 page)

Have I mentioned how royally screwed I am?

Chapter 8

Sorcha

Strolling up to Tryst with my naughty, dungeon-worthy outfit tucked under my long, wool coat, lost in thoughts of conflicting head-versus-heart nonsense, I barely see Samuel as I almost run smack into him by the front door.

“Damn, Sor. That male has you twisted up.” He shakes his head at me as he pulls the handle and lets me lead the way up to the main-floor bar. Upstairs would be closed tonight; this will be our home for the evening.

“Don’t know what you are talking about.” I huff as I stalk toward the employee entrance of the platform.

“Uh-huh.”

We promptly set about organizing everything to our specifications prior to the events beginnings. Random staff members are finishing up decorating and laying cloths over surfaces, giving the space a bedroom-like feel, especially with the flowing bolts of white cloth hanging from the ceiling.

“Are those beds?” I nod to the north wall that is now lined with small, pillow-less beds.

“Yeah, some couches over there too.” Sure enough, a section of cocktail tables have been removed to make room for a makeshift lounge area. “Well, this ought to be fun,” I mutter. Sexually frustrated is not the best way to begin work for a swingers’ night.

“Fun way to line my wallet,” Samuel mumbles under his breath with a hint of disdain.

“You have something against swingers?” He has no room to bear any judgments.

He grunts. “You know I support various styles, but swinging is nothing but an uncivilized fuck fest.”

“Pot, meet kettle.” My vinyl shorts squeak as if to punctuate the statement.

“Excuse you. Contrary to what you may think, the BDSM lifestyle and those who practice are not in it for the sex. I’ve already told you that. Any wanker can have that. It is about the power exchange, the discipline it takes. It is a beautiful exchange that focuses more on the mental blocks one may have that keeps them from experiencing the maximum build-up of ecstasy, and attempting to push you even deeper into that. You get to play out your heart’s desires in a safe environment that is supportive as well as structured in a respectful etiquette. There is no etiquette or grace to swinging. It is simply about the fuck, not the full mind-body connection that pushes you past preconceived notions, into a raw and unadulterated state,” he ends on a frustrated note.

“Damn, Samuel, did I touch a nerve? I wasn’t referencing BDSM. More the fact that you will leave here on the weekends with any dick that winks in your direction.”

“Soapbox moment. Touchy subject as always for me, duh. And I don’t salute every dick. You know they all have to have a submissive vibe to them, whether I am in Dom mode or not. I don’t ever bottom and don’t scene or play with more than one at a time. Multiples take away from my personal experience.”

“That is one thing I am quickly learning, the whole other side of the sexually free and the many ways to practice sex. It is quite freeing. However, you seem to be a walking contradiction just as much as you accuse me of it. Messing around freely some nights like a horny teenager, big, bad Dom other nights, delving out noncommittal discipline to those begging for it. Which is it, man?”

“You may not realize it, but I am just as disciplined as you, sticking to my tried-and-true rules and regulations. How I practice is foundationally the same; the level simply gets turned up in the dungeon as that is what works for me.”

I think about that for a moment as I cut some more limes and fill our tub. Thinking of one’s sexual practices as a volume button, turning it up and down based on desire or circumstances while the quality and structural foundations remain the same is quite poetic in my crazy head.

“You all right? The silence is deafening over there. You might give yourself a stroke thinking that hard,” he jokes, and I unfurrow my brow at the jab.

“Things are complicated.” I already can see where this is going.

“How complicated can dating someone be?”

I cringe at his mention of dating. “We are not dating!”

“Just fuck buddies then?” he jests.

Who am I kidding, it is more than that. “I cooked him breakfast after he spent the night, two nights actually.”

Samuel almost falls over the bar and has to abruptly set the rack of glasses he was moving down. “Can you repeat that?” he scoffs.

“I know! Shit. I don’t know what to do about him! He keeps popping up and refusing to leave. Wields my body like a fine piece of armory without a second thought. Pisses me off but I can’t tell him no. Bastard is getting all possessive and jealous. It’s all a bunch of foreign nonsense that I don’t have time for. He completely distracted me last night from all of my Samhain-planned traditions!” I had a routine every Halloween, one I liked to stick to, and I completely forgot what day it was the minute I saw him.

“Ahhh, you’re getting turned out by a Dom. I never thought I would see the day where she would be all grown up, letting a man stay the night, and getting domestic. Brings a fine tear to my eye to know you didn’t spend Halloween holed up by yourself, eating candy corn and watching Young Frankenstein.”

“You are such an arse; I really wanted that candy corn.” I chuck a lime at him.

“Didn’t think you would be into the hard kinky shit, though.” Samuel adjusts his vest and bow tie, muscled physique showing through as he is void of a shirt underneath.

“I don’t think I am. He’s not like that with me.” Not entirely.

“Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle. It would appear that you are changing him just as much as he is changing you. It’s fucking beautiful.” He pretend sniffs.

“Please, stop. I am not asking him to change for me. He’s free to be and do as he pleases. He can continue to be the big, bad Dom he is rumored to be. When we are together, I get a sense we both become a bit off-kilter though. Something else takes over. But, I really like what he’s introduced me to so far. Why am I telling you all of this?” My annoyed stance is evident.

“You need to get out of that head of yours is why, and who else can you confide in on this level? Breonna? Jade wouldn’t get the kink; Ben and Molly are the relationship types and have never understood your promiscuity. That leaves me.”

“Yeah, you are just as fucked up as me.”

“Right. We are probably the most sane and emotionally free ones of the bunch; normal social constraints don’t burden us. We have a higher level of consciousness in regards to the infinite possibilities of love and relationships, allowing our minds to be free.”

“Or that is what we tell ourselves to justify our lack of morals and sanity?”

“That would mean admitting we have a problem. No, definitely not. We are like some metaphysical bodhivstas practicing the higher conscious self.” He begins to chant “Ohm.”

“Yeah, that’s it,” I laugh. It is nice to converse with a fellow-minded kinky individual whose main concern is my wellbeing, and not getting into my pants.

“Now, this problem you have named Gavin. Is it really all that bad? I’ve had a boyfriend once, well, twice to be exact. Neither lasted long, but there were some upsides to what I remember. Rather liked it, been thinking about doing it again.” Samuel says reminiscently as he lines up his shakers.

“Oh, really? What’s his name?” my lips crook in a half smile.

“Reed. The sweet sub from the club, keep coming back around to him. He suggested a possible contract.”

“Damn, doesn’t that beat all? Am I to be the last one standing then?”

“From the sounds of it, you don’t have to be. Here, quick, look at this.” Samuel runs to the mini back room and I follow in my thigh-high black leather boots, cursing myself for wearing the damn things. He pulls a small jewelry box out and beams as he opens it to show me the tasteful and masculine gold chain. It would be quite flattering against the young man’s skin tone.

“I am guessing this means you are taking him up on his suggestion. This passes as a collar?”

“Yeah, surprised you remembered.”

“There may be gaps in my knowledge on the lifestyle, but I paid close attention to all things stamped ‘commitment’ so I knew to avoid them,” I chuckle as I lean heavily into the doorframe.

“Do you think he will like it?”

“Babe, you could give that sweet thing a string of rope tied together and he would wear it with pride. It’s beautiful.” Sadness drifts through me and a sense of self-imposed loneliness takes residence in the pit of my stomach.

“Time to go. You ready for this?” Samuel asks, pulling me from the emotional drowning taking place.

“Hells ya, should be quite entertaining.” He slaps my barely covered bottom causing me to yelp and reminds me that no matter how chummy we get, he will always be a Dom.

The night went quite well and proved to be more than entertaining. The jolly yet good-natured sexiness of it was comforting. Normally, in a bar, there is a whole lot of game playing and façade constructing that goes on in order for patrons to try to pull a good time, if they were even that lucky. This was an honest version of the very same thing─ all members stripped of any preconceived notions or ill-constructed fronts. The night was void of pointless conversation and individuals attempting to either attract another from across the room with tricks of the trade or run away from shoddy pick-up attempts. Anyone in attendance was here intentionally for the same reasons. You approached or were approached, the answer was either yes or no, and you went from there. Some preferred to sit at the bar for most of the evening to watch the festivities but most took turns rotating from the bar back into the crowd. Many wore masks and fancy caps and capes, an attempt at a masquerade theme even though almost everyone walked around pretty much naked, with a few wisps of clothing here and there.

As Samuel had put it, it really was a jam-packed fuck fest with expensive décor and booze. After the initial semi-shock of seeing people openly going at it on multiple surfaces of the bar, my mind became swept up in its own world.

My thoughts often drifted to Gavin as I went through the motions of pouring drink after drink; the mindless chatter, moans and slapping of flesh all fading to nothing more than stereo noise. The Velvet Rope plagued me and had me wondering if I would ever be fully comfortable with the lifestyle as it was such a part of who he was. I suppose I should give it a go. I am not a prude and have liked what he’s introduced me to thus far. What gives me pause is the so-called etiquette and rules that couples engage in─ submissive poses, kneeling to another, being toted around like a toy, completely giving your control over to another one hundred percent. I envied those who could do it, but I’m not sure that I am capable. Or, is it that I am not sure that I can truly be what he needs.

Gavin

“Speak,” I say in a clipped tone into the receiver of my hands-free set at the intruding call.

“Such a welcoming way to answer the phone for your boss. Gives me the warm and fuzzies,” Daz’s raspy voice rings out through the speaker.

“I knew who it was, newfangled thing called caller ID and all.”

“Ha-ha. Get your ass over to the Haight St. Club. Some douche bag thinks it’s okay to express their Godly views and is causing a scene, pissing off my regulars. I don’t give a fuck what church they crawled from─ make sure they understand that religion and politics don’t have a place in my establishments. Shove a pecker up their ass just to get the point across if you have to.”

“Let me guess, you don’t give a shit if I have other plans.” I flip a bitch down 19
th
and head back towards the club. So much for picking up my favorite street tacos to bring back to Sorcha’s.

“You? Have other plans? I am your plans, motherfucker. Seriously, you know I can’t send anyone else. You are the only one I have who can handle these situations the way I need them dealt with.”

“Ah, Daz, love you too.”

“Fuck off, asshole.”

“Done and done, boss.”

What the hell am I going to do? There is no way I will be back to Sorcha’s place in time. Not showing up will surely piss her off and set my plight back. She isn’t the most open, trusting person as it is. This will cut all my work off at the knees.

Jesus and the thought of spending a night away from her is more than I can bear. I was looking forward to getting lost in her softness and breathing in her sweet cries of pleasure. Now I get to go handle some asshole who thinks it’s their God-given right to tell others how to live their life.

I used to get off on missions like this, now they are unpleasant side effects of my specific career choice. Security and PI work on a high-end level, sought after for my degree of discretion and efficiency if you will, has always done me well. Someday, I will be able to step back from the hands-on aspect of it so I can be more hands on with other developments.

I just bought an old beach home foreclosure on the outskirts of Half Moon Bay that needs a lot of work. It was a way for me to keep busy and deal with my stress in a new way. My brother from across the pond told me I needed a hobby, which could be about right. Sex certainly had begun to lose its appeal, and I needed an escape to call my own.