Tonight, however, was not an average night. Bree wasn’t looking for love, but she did want a good time. Now that she set her sights on Amelia, that vivacious little pixie in a black baby doll and bunny ears? Nothing could stop her. Nothing except Amelia saying No with that adorable tiny mouth of hers.
“It’s love at first sight,” Bree said with a lackadaisical shrug. “Tell me what you’ve seen. I want to know what I’m offering her when I enter her room at the key party.”
“You’re kidding. You got her key? Is this what this is all about?”
“I haven’t gotten any key yet, but I’m about to.”
“Oh, and you have some great plan to ensure you get her key?”
“I have my ways. I’m persuasive. It helps that I’ve tipped the girl handing them out.”
“That’s not how it works, Bree.”
“You’ve been in charge of the key parties before? Wait. Have you been a part of them?
“You know that’s not allowed.” The words “I wish” were muttered beneath his breath. While other sex clubs allowed their staff to participate in the festivities on their days off or after their shifts, Hellfire was strict about the meeting of bodies between staff and guests. If it happened, it was to occur off the property, and nobody would know about it. Preferably. The government had already investigated this place upside down and inside out regarding human trafficking and prostitution rumors, and the owners were not about to lose their fat million-dollar paychecks over it.
“Tell me what you’ve seen she likes. I swear I’ve never seen her before, with or without a man on her arm.” How could Amelia be a regular and Bree never knew? They must not have been regulars at the key parties and orgies. Not that Bree recognized every regular who came to those events, but she knew them well enough. Hell, she saw some of them in that room right now. If I don’t get Amelia’s key, I’m gonna get Betty Lindstrom’s key. There was Betty now, rubbing up against her husband with her hand firmly on his ass. Betty’s cute, but no thanks.
“They mostly kept to their friend group. Don’t know much about them personally, though. Occasionally they ordered drinks.” Kyle knitted his brows in thought. “She likes vodka drinks. Yeah, whether it was her or him ordering, it was always martinis and screwdrivers.”
Now Bree was on to something. “A girl who likes vodka is a good friend of mine.” She would have said that about any liquor or spirit. They were all the same to her when envisioning her dream woman. A tough girl who drowns in scotch. A pretty, fragile gal sipping her martinis. I’ll take them all. Kyle needed to keep talking and paint this picture for Bree. “I get the big feeling she’s the submissive type.”
“Big time.”
“Nice.” Bree tapped her upper lip, elbow digging into the bartop. Every time she stole a glance in Amelia’s direction, it was with the hope the lovely blond vixen would still be there. Should Bree’s heart ever be broken… “You said something about a leash and muzzle…”
“Didn’t think that was your style.”
“Not really. You know how I am, though. I’ll try anything once for the right lady.”
Kyle shook his head. “I don’t know what else to tell you. She used to come in here a lot with her husband. They had their friends. Ever since the divorce… well, come to think of it, this is the first time I’ve seen her all year. Not used to seeing her by herself. You said she was here for the key party?”
“Oh, yes.” Bree was already rehearsing what she would say to the woman in charge.
“Be careful, Bree. It’s clear she’s here to blow off some post-divorce steam. This is probably her first time playing since she divorced her husband. Ahem.” He continued to clear his throat until he had Bree’s attention again. “He wasn’t only her husband. He was her Dom. She’s probably going through all sorts of stuff. Don’t get your heart trashed.”
Bree scoffed. “Since when do you give a huge shit about my heart. Bud, you’ve seen me around here. I’m usually the one breaking hearts.”
A gaggle of laughing, half-drunk women appeared at the bar. Bree could hardly hear herself think over their squeals and promises to get “toasted” that night. Yet she could still hear Kyle saying as he walked away, “You’re still human, right?”
Bree struggled to get his point. So what if this was only a one-night stand with a beautiful woman? What, was it because she said something about “love at first sight?” That was a lark. She only said that in jest. Like, come on. When have I ever actually fallen in love with someone at first sight? That wasn’t her style. She fell in lust. She considered her options and picked the one most pleasing. Everyone knew she was a bit of player. People knew what they were getting into when Bree walked into a room and started flirting with them. She couldn’t turn down a pretty woman’s advances. Nor could she say no to approaching someone as enigmatic as Amelia.
She should have said hello to Amelia. Yet when Bree looked for her, she realized her baby doll with the bunny ears was missing. Back in the bathroom? In the locker room, getting ready for her big night? Or, if Bree were lucky, she might find that blond ponytail twirling on one of the stripper poles in the back of the main room.
Nope. Just some of the usual couples and working girls livening up the place. Bree nodded in acknowledgement to some of her old acquaintances and checked the time. She had half an hour to get that key.
It only took her a few minutes to figure out who was in charge of the party that night. Hello, Donna. Donna was high on Hellfire’s totem pole, and nobody mistook her for one of the waitresses or dancing girls. Not with that stern face framed with riveting curly hair, fuck-me boots that stabbed the earth whenever she walked, and biceps that were toned in LA’s most intense gyms. The only unnatural thing on Donna’s body were her lips, which she kept prominently injected. Bree didn’t get it, but she wouldn’t tell a woman she couldn’t do whatever she wanted to her body. Like that rockin’, fiery angel tattoo on Donna’s back, on full display that night beneath her mesh blouse and black tube top.
Donna looked up from her tablet as Bree approached her on the far side of the room. Donna always did this – survey the evening from a safe distance, where people weren’t likely to bother her unless they needed something. Or are really that desperate. Yet Donna wasn’t afraid to flex the giant rock on her ring finger. Oh, she wasn’t married. Hadn’t been in a relationship in ten years, as far as Bree knew. That ring was a gift from Donna to herself, to scare away flirtations while also showing off how much she could fuck them up with one swing of the arm. She makes a great bouncer when she has to fill in. Bree was attracted to Donna, of course, but the manager had made it clear from the first night they met that she only played for one team – and it wasn’t Bree’s.
“Can I help you?” That sardonic tone made Bree feel right at home.
“You can, actually.” Bree put on her most chipper smile as she sidled up to Donna, currently tucking her tablet beneath her arm and steeling herself for Bree’s over-the-top aura. “You see, I signed up for tonight’s key party…”