The realization brings me a rush of mental and physical relief. I feel like a Jasmine-sized weight has been lifted off my chest, or my heart, to be more exact. There’s someone out there for me still. Everything is going to be okay. I can move on.
But this feeling of relief is short lived and overshadowed by the fact that I’m standing here, panting, with a massive erection, in front of my dream girl. A girl who has been totally off-limits my whole life.
What the hell is she doing in this dark room anyway?
The girls said they were only going to look. It’s the only reason that Axel and I didn’t drag Clara out and insist she go somewhere else. They weren’t supposed to go in any of the rooms, and Madison certainly wasn’t supposed to be the one that stumbled into the dark room where I was waiting.
Declan and Axel had gone to grab more drinks, leaving me to give in to my own curiosity. I saw the lightbulb and lips on the door and thought perhaps it would be the least intimidating option. No bondage, no pain. Just the possibility of a brief encounter with a stranger. I went in, closed the door, and waited. I felt nervous, excited, and a little bit stupid, just standing in the small, dark room by myself.
What if a man came in? Would we realize we were both male and wait for women to come in? How does that all work?
I was just starting to worry about this when the door opened and somebody slipped inside. I couldn’t see much, but from the outline in the illuminated doorway, I could tell it was a woman. A small woman with long, wavy hair.
I banished all thoughts of fear from my mind as I reached for her, stroking her soft hair. When she didn’t protest, I pulled her close to me, feeling her tight, tiny waist. With her ample breasts pressed against me, and my hands cupping her firm, round ass, I leaned in for a kiss.
It never occurred to me that it could be Madison.
But now, here we are, standing among the shards of glass in a room the size of a closet. The air is thick with sexual tension, but also with shock.
What if it hadn’t been me in here to find Madison, but one of the other guys, like the ones at the bar? Guys with wives who are just looking for some young thing to play with, to find a girl they can treat like a toy. The thought of someone looking at Madison like that disgusts me.
But at the same time, I wouldn’t mind taking Madison into some of the other rooms here with me…
No, I can’t think like that. This is wrong.
I’m still staring at her wordlessly with my mouth hanging open. The mouth that just had Madison’s lips and tongue all over it. Madison abruptly stops picking up the shards of glass on the ground and stands upright, her expression matching mine. Her chest heaves as she breathes heavily, too. Her cheeks are flushed, her hair disheveled. Her eyes are wide and wild, and her lips are swollen from kissing.
She has never looked sexier to me.
But this is so fucking wrong. She’s not supposed to be here. She’s my little sister’s best friend, a girl I grew up with. She’s practically a sister to me. I’ve known her since she was practically in diapers.
Now, thanks to this place, diapers have a whole new meaning.
I don’t know what to say or do. Part of me wants to grab her, pull her close, keep kissing her, and never let go. Another part wants to admonish her, to tell her she has no business in a place like this and put her in a cab to send her home.
I don’t do either. It’s like a force takes over my body, and I run wordlessly out of the room, leaving Madison standing in the pile of broken glass.
I run into the men’s room, thinking at least there I should be safe from the girls. I throw myself into a stall and lock the door behind me. I use one hand to steady myself against the stall wall as I try to catch my breath and process my thoughts.
Now that I have a moment to think, I’m embarrassed. What must Madison think of me, running out like that? And what does she think of me being in the dark room in the first place?
I can’t stay. The thought of facing the guys or, God forbid, Clara or Madison after this is too much.
I take a few more deep breaths, then come out of the stall. I splash cold water on my face at the sink, and the bathroom attendant hands me a plush hand towel, which I accept gratefully.
Then I slink out of the bathroom, checking to make sure I don’t see anybody I recognize in the hallway. Moving as quickly as possible along the rows of doors, I slip through the meeting room, past the front bar, and out the door into the cold night air.
Grabbing my cell phone out of my pocket, I tap out a quick text to Declan and Axel.
* * *
Got sick. Headed home. You guys have fun
* * *
I know they’ll give me shit for it later, but I don’t care. Instead of heading straight home, I decide to walk a few blocks first to clear my head.
It’s chilly out, and I thrust my hands deep in the pockets of my leather jacket to shield them from the cold. Head bent down, I walk along the sidewalk, brightly lit by street lamps.
The sex club is in a part of town with a lot of restaurants, bars, and nightclubs. As I walk, I peer into the windows I pass. A young couple dining in a cozy, candlelit restaurant smiles flirtatiously at each other across steaming plates of pasta, their knees touching underneath the table. Then I pass by a nightclub, where people are sweating and grinding against each other to a techno beat, drunk on liquor and lust. I can feel the bass pounding through the speakers even from outside. I watch as a man approaches a woman from behind and passes her a drink, slipping his other hand down the front of her slinky top as they rub against each other. The moment seems too lewd for public consumption, so I look away.
It starts to drizzle, so I finally hail a cab. As I climb into the backseat, I realize that I’m jealous, both of the couple in the restaurant and the people in the dance club. I want that romantic connection, that special someone. My relationship with Jasmine taught me that I like having a girlfriend better than a string of one-night stands. But I also want what the people I saw in the club have—that crazy, animalistic lust for each other. Is it even possible to have both? If so, I haven’t found it yet.
Watching the raindrops stream down the window of the cab, I picture Madison’s face. First, I see her as she looked in the club, in that green dress, cheeks flushed, her hair cascading around her face. Then I picture her as a nerdy kid with sticks for legs and braces. Then I see her in the pink bathing suit, running and laughing, covered in drops of water from the sprinkler that sparkle in the sunlight.
I run my fingers over my lips, the lips Madison was kissing mere minutes ago. I wonder if she’ll tell Clara what happened. It probably doesn’t matter, and I’m blowing all of this out of proportion. Madison will realize it was all a mistake and we will go on with our lives.
But still, I can’t get that kiss out of my mind.
6
Madison
I’m in the library when my cell phone rings. It’s on silent mode, as usual, and I only notice because I had my phone sitting out on the table in front of me to check the time. The screen lights up and I nearly ignore it, until I see “Mom” flashing across my screen along with a picture of her smiling face.
I took that picture of her last year. We went for a walk in the park together and took bread to feed the ducks in the park’s little pond like we did when I was little. I snapped the photo of her on my phone just as she had turned to face me on the park bench, a huge, natural smile on her face. It was a good day.