Authors: Tara Brown writing as Sophie Starr
The Club (8 page)
I pause on the
street, staring at him. “You knew who I was six months ago?”
“Of course.
You think I climb into bed with just anyone?” He gives me the wry grin. “I mean
in business. I knew who you were and I wanted so badly to be with you. But at
the time I was still grieving my loss and couldn't do it. I didn't want
anything more than just a night. So I set a deadline—six months and made
the reservation to hold myself to it. I knew I would do whatever I had to, to
get you to go to dinner.”
My heart beats
a mile a minute again, but for all the right reasons. “You must have known
about Evan then too?”
He nods.
I lean in, pressing
my lips against his. I have a terrible feeling he’s been to the club too, but
it doesn't matter to me. I don't care. I just want him and dinner and candid
talks over wine. I want a relationship and to be held, not pushed down on a
dirty floor in a seedy bar.
His hands
encompass my waist, holding me tight to him. The kiss is loaded with potential
and promise but it’s left there. Like we both need to see where this road will
take us. The good part is that at least we are willing to try again, even with
the battered hearts we share.
I owe that to
the club.
“I want to
give you something. It was given to me a year ago and I really think you could
use it.”
Brandon gives
me a look. “If it’s some coke, I have my own friends, but thanks. So I gained a
little weight, that's no reason to recommend going meth head.”
“Oh my God.” I
roll my eyes. His bitterness toward love and life since things didn't work out
with Hugh has been annoying beyond belief. I pull the small card from my purse.
“It helped me move on and get past some of my insecurities about myself and
helped me with some issues I was having, even if it was a bit unorthodox. To
say the least.” I reach across the desk and hand it to him.
He looks
confused, turning the card over as he scratches his head, looking sideways at
me. “What the hell is this? I was hoping for a vacation but you hand me a card
that has a weird number on it?” He looks flabbergasted.
“It’s a card
that will get you into a down-low dirty sex club, where all your dreams can come
true or you can choose to walk away and find a fresh start.”
“Are you
kidding me?” he asks, looking more than shocked.
I nod, not
sure if I regret my decision or not.
“I have heard
of these and have always wanted one. Where did you get it?” he whispers,
looking to the door.
“I got it from
a friend of a friend. Have you seen the movie Fight Club? Same rules apply with
this. You can’t talk about it or mention it at all. You text that number with
your name and someone will contact you. When you’re done with it, you pass it
on to a person who needs it.” I grab his hand. “I am giving it to you because I
think you might actually be lost and this helped me find myself. We can’t ever
talk about it again.”
“I know what
this is. You take this crazy drug when you get there and you see who you want.
Everything is an illusion from the drugs and whatever else they have going. I
have one friend who swears she fucked Brad Pitt there. Apparently, your mind
plays tricks on you.” He touches his heart with his other hand. “Oh my God,
Han, I love you.” He wipes a fake tear from his sarcastic face and walks out of
my office. “Oh, I almost forgot, Mr. Bennett is here to see you. I told him the
boardroom was busy so he is coming down here to your office.”
I grin,
smoothing my skirt and feel myself light up when he walks into the office.
“Mr. Bennett,
how are you?”
He cocks his
head to the side, closing the door behind him. I hear the lock turn as he
sweeps me into his arms. I love the smell of his aftershave and the way his
skin feels against mine, but this is my office. “Put me down, Logan!” I growl
as he sets me down with my desk behind me.
He spins me
around roughly, leaning into my nape to whisper. “I like it when you call me
Mr. Bennett.” Roughly, he lifts up my skirt, pressing my hips and thighs into
my desk. His hands come around the front of me, undoing my blouse like a
master.
He reaches a
hand into the top of my bra, squeezing the fleshy mound of my breast and
pinching the nipples. I moan as the sound of his belt and zipper flood my ears.
He pushes me down over the top of my desk, spreading my legs. The condom packet
makes me instantly wet. “Where do you want it, Ms. Edwards?”
We have never
had rough sex like this before. I didn't even know we were at this stage. I
shake my head. “Not in my ass.”
He shoves
himself against me, grinding his cock between my cheeks. “What is my name?”
“Not in my
ass, please Mr. Bennett.” It seems rehearsed but it isn’t. I desperately want
him inside of me, just not like that. He shoves his cock into my awaiting
pussy. We both groan into the feel of him filling me up.
“Do you like
being fucked in your office, Ms. Edwards?”
“I do, Mr.
Bennett.” I cry out into the papers on my desk, desperate for the orgasm I
suspect I’m about to have. He makes short, hard thrusts, just the way I like
it. He kneads my ass, just the way he likes it. And when I come he pushes
himself in farther, harder, making my orgasm that much stronger. When he comes
he bends forward, biting my back softly and moaning into me. He lays his head
flat for the briefest of seconds as we both try to figure out where we are.
“I’m so glad
we are more than just a night, because I love you, Hannah.”
I nod my
sweaty face against the paperwork, completely in agreement with his statement.
“I love you too, Logan.”
He kisses my
back where the bite was. “See you at home then.” He gets up, straightening
himself and leaves my office. I get up, cleaning myself up and trying my best
to put myself back into one piece.
Everything
about the moment we just had is unadulterated. He is perfect. We are flawless
together. We met under the worst of circumstances and we have become exactly
who we wanted to be all along.
As nasty as it
sounds, I owe it all to the club.
