She clicked that she was fine with both men and women. As for her hard limits? The list was so long, covering every little detail that years of operation had told the club were more important than making sure they knew everyone’s last names. What a great reminder that I’ve just changed back to my maiden name. So much paperwork. Why had she changed her name to her husband’s in the first place?
Right. Because it was part of their kink.
I’m fine… with anything… Punishment won in the end.
“Thank you, Miss.” The woman took back the tablet and stood up, punching something into the options menu. “You will be escorted to your room in about half an hour. If there’s anything we can supply for you, let one of us know.”
Amelia inhaled a deep breath when she was alone again. As soon as the woman moved, Amelia glanced up and made brief eye contact with someone on the other side of the small room.
Breath was suddenly hard to come by. For the next few seconds, Amelia struggled to remember where she was. You’re in a club. Where women like this exist, I guess.
Amelia had encountered plenty of women who struck her chords in Hellfire. Most of the ones who were so obviously gay had a specific style. Their expensive haircuts and tailored clothing spoke of a luxury that few could afford in LA. Their homes may be small, but their wallets are big. Amelia had been with a few women like that, although Roger preferred to see her with overtly feminine women who often didn’t identify with “labels.” Was that why the woman on the other side of the room caught Amelia’s attention?
Short, dark hair clipped above the ears and tapered with icy blond. Cool, gray eyes that saw right into Amelia’s soul. A heart-shaped face that was both youthful impishness and uncouth maturity. That navy blue jacket was perfect on those broad shoulders and hugging that rectangular torso. Amelia barely had time to notice the wild choice of white pants and a black blouse before she looked away. Was she looking right at me? That’s what such a little, knowing smirk was for, right? Yet Amelia couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact again. Not when it meant acknowledging her fledgling attraction to someone who wasn’t her ex-husband.
With her chest constricting and her thighs sweating against the leather chair, Amelia bolted up from her seat and headed for the restroom. There, she splashed cold water on her face and touched up her makeup in the wake of such necessary foolishness. As she stared at her fair complexion and tendrils of loose blond hair bouncing before her lacey mask, she wondered if she would come to regret this night, like she regretted so much of her adult life so far.
Chapter 3
BREE
“What do you know about the hottie in the black bunny mask?”
Kyle, who had finished serving a half-naked couple already on their third drinks of the evening, turned to Bree with consternation on his face. “Excuse me?”
Bree jerked her head toward the crowd behind her. “The blonde with the black baby doll and the bunny ears. What’s her deal?”
With a sigh heavy enough to rock the bartop, Kyle slammed his hands down and shook his head. “What trouble are you trying to get into now?”
“Come on. Be my wingman. Before I go begging for the key I saw her slip one of the waitresses. I need to make sure she’s worth calling in some favors.”
“Do you hear yourself? You might as well be slobbering all over my bartop.” He shooed her away. “I’ve got enough people in here doing that as it is. Only they’re usually slobbering over each other.” He glanced at the half-naked couple canoodling on their stools. Every time one of them groped the other, a yelp erupted for Bree to hear.
“Just tell me if you know her or not.”
Kyle shielded his eyes and gazed into the crowd amassing in the front room of the club. “Uh huh. Was she a little on the short side?”
“Sure.”
“Tiny little mouth?”
“You bet.”
“Oh, man.” Kyle froze as he spotted Bree’s target. “How is she keeping her nipples in that thing? She might as well let both girls out since they practically are anyway.”
Bree stole a look over her shoulder. She couldn’t see Amelia, but she knew she was there. “Tell me what you know. She’s a regular, isn’t she?” A girl like that had to be. She was way too comfortable with her unicorn status to be anything but a regular on the BDSM sex club circuit.
“She’s a regular, yeah. But…” He held up his hands, as if fending off Bree’s frenetic sexual energy. “She’s not the kind of regular you’re used to hooking up with. Trust me. There’s a very unflattering term for a woman like her. I’d give her a few more months before approaching her. Assuming she’s still single by then.”
Bree’s brows threatened to cut into her nose. She crossed her arms and pressed her lips forward, daring Kyle to say that “unflattering term.” “I don’t know if I should be impressed by your professionalism, or annoyed with your desire to say she’s a slut or something.” Not like Bree had a problem with that. Some of her best girlfriends were of such a persuasion!
Kyle sighed. “Yeah, that came out wrong. That’s Amelia. Don’t know what last name she’s going by now. She just got divorced.”
That only slightly surprised Bree, who hadn’t anticipated that level of stress coming from the far corner of the room. She looks good for recently divorced. Damn good. “So? That means she’s a free agent on the hookup market.”
“She was married to a man, Bree.”
“So? You ever heard of a power bi? They’re up there with the power bottoms on my list of ‘favorite types of women.’” That was a lie, but it sounded good when it dumped out of her mouth. I’m gonna make it the truth now, though. “Power Bi” needed to be a thing. Bree had heard of “Messy Bis” and “Chaotic Bis,” but “Power Bi” had the positive oomph to it the world desperately needed – in her humble lesbian opinion. While she never saw the sexual appeal of men, she didn’t hold it against women who did. Why should she? It didn’t matter once she was the one in bed with a lovely lady. Besides, if I were gonna be into men, it would’ve happened by now. Not only because of her age and comfort with herself, but because of all the men she had seen over the years doing the very things she loved to do with women. There was a reason Bree was a regular in the swinging scene, whether coupled or solo. She loved the sexual energy people around her had to share – period.
Kyle drummed an unprofessional finger against the bartop. Whenever Bree dressed him down a little bit, he always lost his patience for one of Hellfire’s most frequent customers. As long as a supervisor didn’t seem him, he’d be fine! “All I’m saying is that you might be biting off more than you can chew, Bree. She seems like a nice lady, but it’s hard to tell sometimes when their partners keep them leashed and muzzled, if you know what I mean.”
That gave Bree brief pause. Not because the image of Amelia – what a lovely name! – putting on a real roleplaying show didn’t titillate her, but because Kyle had a point. Women, be they submissive, dominant, or the elusive switch, often had difficulties coming out of a high-intensity relationship like that. A marriage? That implied some seriously broken trust along the way. It was bad enough outside of kinky arrangements. When a Dom broke a sub’s trust, however, Kyle was right… it might be more than Bree could chew on an average night.