Undeniably Asher (The Colloway Brothers Book 2) (25 page)

“I wanted to claw her eyes out,” she moans.

A smile tugs at my lips, but I try to keep it at bay. Glad to know I’m not the only one feeling rather possessive. Reluctantly, I force my lips from her neck. “I rather enjoyed your verbal exchange to a physical one. You were brilliant.”

She rolls her eyes.

“Now you know a little bit of what I’m feeling.”

“Except I didn’t fuck Aaron.”

There’s no point denying the truth. “Touché. But it was just once and I didn’t have my tongue anywhere near a single part of her body, just so you know.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Stroking her cheek, I confess, “If I could undo it, I would. If it’s any consolation, I regret it.”

She shakes her head. I wish I didn’t cause the frown that’s formed on her candy-apple-glazed lips. “I’m sorry. We all have a past.”

I cup her face. “My past has completely faded. I see no one who came before you. You are all I see, Alyse. You are my future. Only you.”

Her eyes twinkle with moisture and I don’t think I could I love her any more than I do in this moment.

Before Alyse can answer, a waitress interrupts with our wine. After I sample and approve it, she pours two glasses and gives us privacy.

“To a perfect evening,” I say, holding up my glass to hers.

“To a perfect evening,” she parrots, clinking mine then taking a sip.

With Alyse by my side, I have no doubt it will be.

Chapter 25

Asher

“What kind of club is this?” she whispers the second we walk through the red steel, nondescript door. It’s unmarked and looks more like the entrance to an industrial building than to a club. Since it’s for members only, they don’t want flashing neon signs drawing the general public in.

“The private kind,” I reply, giving my name to the receptionist behind the glass booth.

When you enter Curieux, you are enclosed in a small ten by ten brightly lit space and met by a beautiful, but usually conservatively dressed woman behind the protective barrier. Anyone who happens to stumble across this by accident is easily sent on their way or escorted by security if they prefer the hard one.

But when you are granted access into the club itself, the entire atmosphere changes.

It’s dark.

It’s seductive.

The vibe is intoxicating. Liberating. Decadent.

While I’m not a member of Curieux, I do know the owner. He’s one of my most important clients and a good friend, so I have an open invitation. I don’t like to take advantage of my friends, however, so I don’t come here frequently. And now I’m glad I don’t. I want to share some first-time experiences with Alyse. If the night goes well, maybe I’ll even consider becoming a member.

“Mr. Colloway, you may place your personal effects in here.” The hostess opens a small twelve-inch door to her right where she slides out an intricately designed wooden, plum velvet-lined box. Cameras are a big no-no, so everything, down to pens and lapel pins are locked safely away until you leave.

I remove my cell phone, wallet, and money clip. I signal for Alyse’s small clutch, which she silently hands over, but I see the dozen questions written all over her face. I shut the lid and lock and pocket the small key. I also remove our coats, giving them to her.

“Thank you, sir. You and your guest are free to enter.”

I hear a buzz and the latch of the door to our right unlocks, as it has no handle on this side. Placing my hand on the small of Alyse’s back, I usher her forward and push the steel entrance open, holding my breath.

As soon as the door closes behind us, I pin Alyse to the wall, taking her mouth in a hungry kiss. She moans, twining her hands through my hair. Her bare leg winds around mine as I palm her ass through the short, sexy, brilliant blue dress she bought this afternoon after wedding dress shopping with her sister. I want nothing more than to fuck her right now.

I force myself back and search her eyes, hoping she’ll see my appeal. “Before we go any further, I need you to be open-minded.”

“Okay,” she answers tentatively, drawing out the word into almost a question.

“This is me letting you in.”

Her eyes soften and she reaches up to cup my cheek with one hand. “Judgment-free zone here. Promise.”

I nod, hoping she feels that way in a few seconds. Kissing the tip of her nose, I grab her hand in mine. We make our way down a dimly lit hallway until it spills into the guts of the club. The pounding thump of the sultry bass thrums through our bodies, setting a new rhythm for our hearts. There is an unmistakable sensual vibe that permeates every one of your senses, erasing inhibitions. I swear pheromones are pumped through the ventilation system.

“Wow,” Alyse breathes beside me. She grips my hand tighter probably without even realizing she’s done it. The first time I saw this, I felt the same way.

The club has two levels and while I’ve been to the lower level, it’s pretty hard-core exhibitionism and not really my thing. I’m more subtle about my taste, not minding if someone happens to see or watch, but I don’t go out of my way to fuck women in front of a room full of people, either. That doesn’t get me off; that just feels like a performance.

This level of the club is very open with a dance floor taking up the entire center. It’s still fairly early in the evening, but there are several couples twined and grinding on each other. The one rule on this floor is any sexual activity has to take place in a booth, not out in the open.

The whole place is black. The walls, the tile floor, the leather booths, the bar stools. All black. The right wall houses the long black marble bar and is dimly lit with purple florescent lighting.

Two-dozen booths take up the remaining three walls. They vary in size, from those for more intimate encounters to others that can accommodate a larger group. Every booth is secluded with walls that round slightly in the front and go all the way to the ceiling.

Each contains the same soft ambient lighting as the bar, which can be turned off by the occupants if they would like additional privacy, and translucent curtains, which provide a modicum of discretion. Due to the placement and situation, some of the compartments offer more isolation than others, as everyone has a different level of comfort and desire.

Tonight I’ve requested a rather secluded area toward the back of the club, because while I want to be here, I don’t want to share her with the entire place either. Maybe that’s the natural possessiveness coming out, but regardless, I still have this pulsing need to show her this side of me.

As Alyse stands quietly beside me taking it all in, I spot John, the club’s owner, headed our way.

“Asher, glad you could make it again.” John shakes my hand, but his attention is all on Alyse. I can honestly say I don’t blame him, but I still don’t like it. Even though I realize I made her buy the sexy dress she’s wearing today after she sent me a picture from the dressing room.

“And who do we have here?” John asks, turning his body toward Alyse.

I pull her closer. “She’s mine,” I warn. John’s a good friend, but he’s also a player. I would not put it past him to make a play for
her
.

“Asher, stop.” Alyse slaps my chest. “Alyse Kingsley,” she answers, holding out her hand. He takes it, bringing it to his lips. I growl and John laughs.

“John Weaver, owner of Curieux. I guess you’re off-limits. Too bad.” He winks at Alyse and I’m about one second away from knocking his ass into next week when Alyse wraps herself around me, hands roaming underneath my suit coat, up my back.

Her touch calms my raging jealousy. Maybe this was a bad idea after all. Maybe Conn was right.

“I’m yours,” she whispers in my ear. When her lips touch my neck, those thoughts flee and I harden painfully, one hand snaking up to fist her hair, while the other pulls her flush against me.

“Looks like I need to get you both to a booth,” John says wryly.

After a quick, hard kiss, we follow him to the back of the club. Alyse keeps her head forward, but I can tell she’s scanning the place without trying to look too obvious. I’m dying to know what’s rolling through that pretty little head. I’m about to find out as John stops at the furthest table in the far northwest corner. It’s secluded, but still open to anyone who decides to walk by.

“Enjoy your evening.” He nods and winks as he turns and leaves.

“Come here,” I tell her gruffly. Sitting down, I hold out my hand. She stands there looking between my face and my hand and I anxiously wonder what her next move will be.

Will she accept me for who I am and stay?

Or will she tell me I’m a sick son of a bitch and flee?

Yes. I’m absolutely thinking I should have disclosed this aspect of myself before I fell hopelessly in love with Alyse Kingsley. In the next five seconds, I will either be the happiest man alive or I’ll be emotionally annihilated with my heart bleeding out on the dark floor beneath me, which is pretty apropos, considering that’s what will take up the space in my empty chest cavity if she leaves.

Eternal darkness.

Chapter 26

Alyse

My mind has been racing for the last five minutes, trying to catch up to exactly what I’m witnessing. Asher told me this afternoon he was collecting on his bet tonight, but I had no idea it would be this. It
has
to be this.

“
When we win, you’ll let me do anything I want to that sexy body. Whenever. Wherever.”

The few couples on the dance floor could seem to care less that anyone is watching. While none are outright having sex, their hands and mouths freely roam each other’s bodies as if they are in the privacy of their own bedrooms.

From my angle, I can see clearly into one circular booth without the translucent curtain drawn. A woman, with her back to me, is on her knees giving a gorgeous man a blow job. And by the look of ecstasy on his face as he guides her bobbing head up and down, she’s doing a bang-up job.

I’ve heard of sex clubs, of course, read about them, too, but honestly never thought they
really
existed. In looking around, however, I quickly deduce this can be nothing else but.

And I’ve never seen anything more erotic in my life. I mean, I’ve watched pornos before, who hasn’t? But watching a D-grade porno is nothing like what I’m currently witnessing in real life. It’s a sensual feast for the eyes. I find that I am impossibly turned on.

Now it’s all making sense. Asher’s nervousness tonight. His mysterious words about “letting me in.” He’s showing me a part of him that he’s not sure I will accept.

Now I’m standing before him in a secluded, dimly lit booth in the back of the club. I recognize the fear and worry in his eyes as he holds out his hand for mine. I hesitate only momentarily before I take it, and once I do, I visibly see his entire body relax.

“Baby,” he whispers in my ear when he pulls me down to his lap. He buries his face in my neck and I wrap my arms around his head, holding him tightly to me.

“I won’t be shared,” I say. I’ve never been to a place like this, done anything like this, and am not exactly sure what Asher’s proclivities are or what he expects of me, but I feel like I need to state my limits up front. Being passed around to other men like some object is not something I would ever entertain.

He pulls back, his eyes burning into mine. “No one touches you but me. You’re mine. And if this makes you uncomfortable, we can leave.”

I don’t want to leave. God help me, I want to stay and see where the night goes. My pussy has been throbbing since thirty seconds in the door. Actually, it’s been pulsating constantly since he told me he wanted to fuck me at dinner. “What do we do?”

His smile is slow, impossibly sexy. He hasn’t shaved for a couple of days and all I can think about is getting those whiskers to burn my most sensitive skin.

“We have a drink, we talk, we relax. We see where the night takes us. I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

I trace his hairline lightly, committing every one of his beautiful features to memory. “What do
you
want?” I ask softly. His dick twitches underneath my leg, causing a gush of wetness to seep from my core. At this rate, I’ll be putting a very visible, very telling stain on my new dress.

“Everything you’ll give me, Alyse.”

I start to tell him everything I am already belongs to him, but a feminine voice interrupts.

“Two Jamesons on the rocks, courtesy of Mr. Weaver.” A beautiful, scantily clad waitress whose low voice is as sultry as a sex phone operator sets two amber-filled glasses down on the small table in the center of our intimate space.

“Thank you,” Asher replies, barely giving her a glance to which I’m secretly glad.

Feeling a bit nervous, I reach for a cup and bring it to my lips. Whiskey isn’t generally my drink of choice, but I only had two glasses of wine with dinner so I could use some liquid courage about now.

“Do you remember the Fourth of July that year?” he asks.

How could I forget?
I’m sure my cheeks are tinged in embarrassment. In all these years, we’ve never talked about that day. “Yes.”