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Authors: Tara Brown writing as Sophie Starr

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BOOK: The Club
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But it’s the
wide girth of a sizeable cock poking its head between my lips. He runs it back
and forth, dragging the ridge of his cock head across my clit. I jump from the
touching of the overly excited and sensitive spot. He doesn't grind but uses my
pussy to stroke his cock. I have forgotten about my plan as a soft whimper
falls from my lips. “Fuck me.”

He instantly
comes to life, spinning me around so I can see the club before us from the dark
hallway but chances are they can’t see me, not in the flashes. I hear a wrapper
but before I can even blink he shoves his thick cock inside of me. I am thrust
forward as he enters me from behind but his large hand wraps around my stomach,
holding me back to him and arching my ass out so he can enter me better.

“I am going to
make you scream in public,” he mutters into my ear as he thrusts again. His
body fills mine to the brink of losing my mind but pulls me back from there as
he rubs all the right places. His hand draped across my abs holds me tightly to
him while his free hand circles my nipple through the thin, cool fabric.

The reality of
being fucked in a public place hits me hard as I start working myself over his
thick rod. Every time he impales me, I push back to meet the force of it, my
body spreading to accommodate him. I reach out wildly, grabbing to a pipe on
the wall as he drives in harder and harder, repeating the very same stroke, one
that could drive me to madness. He doesn't even flinch at the constant pace
being kept as the ridges of his cock stroke the recesses of my pussy.

I glance down
as suddenly a mop of red hair lowers in front of me. My dress is lifted and my
thrusting pussy bared as the stranger’s soft lips land on me. She licks my
clit, suckling from me. He slows his thrusts, accommodating the girl between my
legs. She flicks and sucks with warm kisses until between them both I am on the
edge, the brink of madness.

My body starts
to twitch and spasm as his cock forces an explosion from me. She licks faster,
grinding her face into my pulsating clit. I come all over him.

He pulls out,
grabbing the girl from the floor. He drags off his unspent condom, and puts on
another. His dark-blue eyes meet mine as a sexy rage overtakes him. “Lie down
on your back.” I don't hesitate. I lie back on the floor, ignoring my desire to
check it first. He pushes the girl to her knees, dropping to his behind her. He
shoves her face into my pussy again and enters her. I can tell from the face
they both make he is entering her anally. She winces, grunting slightly as she
takes him all in. He does the same but his hands grab at her in a way that
looks like it might hurt. She slips a couple fingers inside of me, pounding at
a much faster rate than he is inside of her ass. Lying there on my elbows, I
close my eyes and let it all be too much. There is no other way to deal with
it. The dimmed lights hide the sin just as the flashes try to make us see the
wrong we are doing.

But I don't
care. I don't want to see. I want to feel. Hands grab at me as my dress is
shifted to the side. Hot mouths cover my desperate nipples. She pulls from me,
replacing her slim fingers with something much thicker. It slides into me,
working its way in. I can feel the hardness of it and assume it’s a dildo. A
second one is placed inside of my ass, slowly until it all fits. The two are
worked, pumping at the same time. As teeth bite down on my nipples I orgasm a
second time, gripping with both my anus and pussy. The level of ecstasy is
overwhelming. Just when I don't think I can take a single second more I am
rolled onto my side. I look back as the other people from our small group leave
and it’s just me and Logan.

“It’s just a
night, darling. Let’s make it count.” He grins, pulling the dildo from my ass
slowly but leaving the extremely fat one in my pussy. He lifts a fresh condom
from his pocket. He pulls it on and pushes his cockhead against the rim of my
asshole. I don't have a second to argue the fact I am an anal virgin. He
presses himself in slowly, letting my body adjust to the width. He jerks the
dildo in and out of me, double penetrating me. I have a fantasy about this,
adding it to the public sex is like icing on the pervert cake. He rides my ass,
squeezing my cheeks and lazily pulling and pushing until finally he comes with
several hard thrusts.

I am in
pleasure overdrive, not orgasming again but somehow maintaining the high. He
grips to me as he finishes with heavy pants and groans like a caveman. I’m
instantly sorry it’s Logan with his cock in my ass. I’m instantly sorry the
entire night has happened. We have to work together. At least we can walk away
now and pretend we don't know each other. It’s just a sin that we can’t ever be
anything else.

He pulls
himself and the dildo from me, letting me up from the position of my aching
side on the cold concrete floor.

I stand
awkwardly, feeling my orgasm drip onto my inner thighs. I don't look back at
him. I turn and walk as fast as I can into the crowd. The sobering effect of
the entire experience has claimed my high and taken away the purity of the
pleasure.

I see why
Jenny never came back. She couldn't look herself in the eyes and come back
here. I know I will never be back.

“Where are you
going?” I hear him yelling at me from the crowd but I manage to get to the
doors and flag a cab. I am gone, like Cinderella, before he can catch me. Only
I don't leave a glass slipper to help him find me.

I don't want
to be found.

 
 
Chapter Seven
 

As I arrive at
work, raw emotion is eating its way through me. My phone has rung a hundred times
in the past two days but I haven’t felt much like answering.

I mostly spent
the time soaking my nether regions in hopes of them recovering sometime this
year. Sitting is painful in several ways. One is definitely the reminder that I
let a man in a mask fuck me senseless for an hour. I’m flushed and walking with
a slight cramp as I get on the elevator.
 
Brandon has been bombarding me with text messages. I know he’ll be
waiting for me the moment I step off.

And as
predicted he is there. “Where have you been? Did you fall off the earth?” He
hands me my latte as I step off the elevator. “It’s cool, you don't have to ask
about my weekend and drinks with Hugh. It’s fine. He was a gentleman anyway so
I have no details for the water cooler.” He points a finger at me while
narrowing his gaze. “You got ugly fucked. You didn't even smirk at my joke
about us and the water cooler.”

I scowl.
“What? Jesus, wait until I at least drink my coffee.” I shake my head.
“Actually, don't wait. I don't want to know what ugly fucked is.”

He rolls his
eyes at me. “You know, remorseful sex. You had some. I can see the guilt, even
under your erase paste.”

I lift my
middle finger—the least classy thing I’ve done since having a penis in my
bum. “I had a bad night and I don’t want to talk about it.”

He follows me
down the hallway. “Someone is in the conference room, waiting for you.”

“What?” I
stop, turning abruptly and spilling coffee on my crisp white blouse.

Brandon
winces. “I just picked a bunch of shirts up from the cleaners, you're fine.”

“Who’s in the
conference room?” I’m sure I’m white as a ghost. His skeptical stare makes me
uncomfortable.

“Mr. Bennett.
He says he desperately needs to talk to you and I tried fielding the calls but
he is not having it.”

I swallow
hard. The safety of my office and the glass walls of the conference room make
it okay to see him. At least he can’t try to undress me or drug me here. I nod,
regardless of the fact my brain is screaming no. I know there is no way out of
it.

“Why do you
look like that?”

I shake my
head. “Just worried. I don't want to uhhmm . . . screw this
up. Important clients and all.” My voice is distant and when I change in my
office I don't even close the door—just strip down and drag on a new
shirt. I pull my scraggly hair up into a bun and tuck in my new blouse. “Did he
say why he wants the meeting?” My ass hurts thinking about it.

“He called
this morning asking for a meeting and that’s all I know.” He shrugs his narrow
shoulders, and walks with me to my office. When we get to the large glass door
of the boardroom I hold a hand up. “I’ll go alone.”

“Do you want
me to get some snacks and things? Coffee and tea at least?”

I shake my
head. “I just need some Advil and water please.” I slouch, entering the large
glass room and leaning against the door when I close it.

Logan turns,
smiling instantly. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

He gets up,
walking to me. He leans in, kissing either side of my face slowly. I notice a
distinct difference in him. The kiss is similar but the softness and
vulnerability in him is different. He’s not forceful and bossy. He’s delicate.
“I really wanted to talk to you. I know I screwed up asking you out and knowing
where you live, but I like you.”

I cock an
eyebrow but he laughs, holding a hand up. “Let me finish.” He escorts me to a chair,
pulling it out for me. “When my wife died a couple years ago, I never imagined
I would meet anyone who instantly made me feel comfortable. You do that. Your
sarcasm and wit put me at ease. I grew up in a busy family and we always were
hard on each other. You give me that same feeling. At the same time I see how
vulnerable you are after this whole divorce. I know this pain.” He smiles
softly, no longer the smooth talker. Now it seems as if the man at the bar, the
candid and sort of sweet one, is here to stay. He doesn't seem like the masked
ass-avenger at all.

I cringe,
realizing when he said he and his wife were separated before. He meant by
death. I never would have guessed that.

He sighs,
continuing. “I came on too strong, thinking you liked schmoozer guys. That's
not me. I like being upfront and honest. I don't write songs. I don't wear
cords. I can’t grow a decent beard to save my life. My chest hair is even a
little patchy, not cool and urban chic at all.”

I chuckle,
feeling my guard coming down.

“I asked you
out and followed you to the bar and I feel like a dick. You told me no and I’m
bad at no. I don't handle the word well at all.” He leans in as he sits across
from me. “I want you to know, I like you. I want to date you. So if you want to
date me too, I will fire your company and blame your bosses.”

I sit back in
the chair. “You would not work with me to date me?”

He nods.

“But I’m the
best at what I do; you might lose a lot of money.”

He smiles
wide. “And that is why I like you. There was no ego in that statement. You are
the best. You are better than the best. Your ability to predict market
fluctuations and a company’s demise is uncanny.” He sighs, folding his arms
across his chest. “But I want to ask you out for dinner in the worst way.”

I honestly
don't know what to say. “What’s your view on multiple partners in bed?”

He cocks an
eyebrow? “What?”

I nod,
completely baffled but desperate to know if the man in the black mask was him.

“I guess I am
against it. I tend to be territorial and competitive. Is this a test or do you
enjoy more people in bed than can truly fit?” His tone makes me smile. “Don’t
get me wrong, I’m excited this is where the conversation has gone. I thought
for sure you’d tell me to stick it up my ass.”

I gulp but he
doesn't even flinch. There is no way I will ever know if he’s the man in the
mask or not, but he certainly doesn’t seem like he is. “I will go out for
dinner with you. You don't have to fire me.”

He grins. “The
best of both worlds, my favorite outcome. Write your number here for me and
I’ll message you.” He slides a business card across the table at me. His hands
mesmerize me. “I will pick you up or we can meet. Dinner here at seven
tonight?”

I nod. At
least my body won’t be in the mood for anything too serious. Maybe a handshake.
He’ll think I’m playing hard to get but it’s better than him knowing about the
masquerade parties. “I’ll meet you.” I write my number on the back of the
business card.

“Why do you
look so stricken?”

I clear my
throat to buy myself a second. “I was sick over the weekend. Really nauseated.”

He winces.
“Something has been going around. My brother was in a terrible way the other
day. He’s been just beside himself. Mopey and not feeling well.” He winks.
“He’s a bit of a pussy though.” He stands abruptly. “I will see you tonight.
Take a nap. You’ll feel better.” He kisses the side of my face again, lingering
there long enough for me to be certain they are not the same man.

I leave work
that afternoon, dialing Bec to answer her ridiculous number of texts.

“Okay, I was
just about to call the National Guard,” she snaps her greeting into the phone.
“If you ever drop off the face of the earth like that again, so help me God.”
She purrs the next sentence. “How were drinks with Logan? I sort of assumed
maybe he rocked your world all weekend long.”

I frown,
walking down the road to my apartment. “No. It was whatever. I didn't feel
good. I stayed in and watched a movie.” I am a terrible liar.

“YOU WENT
CLUBBING AGAIN!” she screams. I have to hold the phone away from my ear.

“Yeah, God,
shut it.”

“Oh my God, oh
my God, oh my God! I need details. What happened?”

I shake my
head. “Non—”

“You say
non-disclosure form and I will fucking kill you—ya feel me?” Her bit of
Brooklyn starts to seep out.

I sigh my
answer. “I went and had sex with many people. It was fun. Stop. I can’t talk
about it and you know it. That's all I’m giving you.”

“Holy shit,
you are the worst friend I have ever had. You went to a fucking sex club,
fucked a bunch of people in a booze-soaked orgy, and won’t give me a fucking
droplet of info? You’re a whore.”

I nod. “You
have no idea.” I hurry to my place, nodding at George as he gets the door for
me.

“You have a
parcel, Ms. Edwards.”

I freeze,
muttering into the phone, “I’ll call you back.” I hang up, turning to face the
desk. “You sure?”

He nods.
“You’re the only person I know who hates mail.” He lifts a large manila
envelope. “Had to sign for this one.”

I take it,
feeling the weight of my entire marriage in it. “Thank you, George.”

He sees my
face and wraps his arms around me in an awkward embrace I couldn't have ever
expected. “He never deserved you.” He pats my head twice and releases me. I
turn and walk to the elevator, completely weirded out and yet soothed by the
words spoken by someone whose opinion I trust and cherish. No one knows people
like doormen. They see everything.

When I get to
my apartment I slump into the chair, loosing all the confidence my naughty
sexcapades have won me. Acting like a whore hasn’t made me feel better about
getting a divorce. All it did was make me feel like I wanted to try again. I
see that now. I want love again. I don't want some filthy sex and a series of
one-night stands. I want someone to hold me and know me. I’ve spent thirty-five
years getting to know me and I want to share that.

I slip the
card from my purse, staring at it. Everything is different now and this card is
the reason why.

I get it. I
get why the lawyer gave it to Jenny and why she gave it to me. It’s a glimpse
of what being single can be like. It’s a glimpse of the dating pool and the
expectations placed on you sexually, like anal sex. It’s a world that maybe
women who have been married have sheltered themselves from, and maybe for good
reason.

I tuck the
card back into my purse, completely confident I will never use it again. I pull
my phone out and delete the number, noticing a new text from Logan.

Meet me at my
place instead. We can walk to dinner.

I see he has
shared his contact information with me and add it to my phone. When I see the
address it makes me smile. We are neighbors. He lives a couple buildings over
from me.

Something
about the innocence of the text and the prospect of dinner makes me excited,
and not in the way I was about the dress box. This is a way that feels more
natural to me.

I finish
getting dressed and head out the door, feeling liberated by the fact I am
picking him up. When I get down the street I realize he actually lives in one
of the old row houses. I love their architecture and dated style. I don't make
it up to the door to knock before it opens for me. I step back as a handsome
man identical to Logan, but clearly not him, steps from the entrance. He grins.
“Why hello, gorgeous.”

I roll my eyes
but my stomach is aching. I know exactly who he is. He waggles his eyebrows at
me. “You must be Hannah. Damn, Logan didn't mention you were fucking stunning.”

I step to the
side on the front stairs to give him room to get by me.

“I’m Charlie,
his brother. His much more handsome brother.” He winks like I might fall for
that.

My mouth is
sour and my heart is beating like a drum so I don't have a witty retort and
thankfully I don't need one. Logan comes down the large hallway with a grin.
“Get away from my date, Charles or I’ll be forced to telephone mother and tell
her where you’re off to tonight.”

He glances
back at his brother. “You know the rules.” He looks back at me. “It’s just one
night—you should come with me and forget about him. I will rock your
world.”

I lift a hand.
“I’m good.” I try to mask my voice but it comes out hoarse. Logan comes to my
aid, taking my hand in his and pulling me down the stairs. He glances back at
his brother. “Don't stumble in here at three in the morning either. Go home for
once.”

We turn and
walk down the road. My heart races like a rabbit’s and my throat is tight but
the moment we are passed the street we both live on, it ends. The feeling
inside of me is gone. It’s replaced with a type of relief I almost want to cry
from. I had been convincing myself he wasn't the guy and he isn’t. Yes, a
worse-case scenario is it’s his brother, but I can live with that over it being
Logan.

I turn and
smile wide. “What’s this restaurant like?”

He shrugs.
“I’ve had the reservation for six months. First time eating here.”

I scowl. “You
made a reservation six months ago for dinner here? Was there a list?”

He shakes his
head. “No. I just knew I had to clear my head before I asked you out. I’m ready
now.”

BOOK: The Club
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