“Feel free to get a drink and explore the house. Different things happen in different rooms. This room over here is for socializing. Then when you want more privacy, you can go into the back rooms. Some are just for women. Some are just for men, others are for couples and another is for everyone to enjoy themselves together.”
I hand over my trench coat and Nicholas takes off his suit jacket and loosens his tie.
Something comes over me and I reach over and unbutton his shirt.
He smiles.
“You getting in the mood?” he asks without stopping me.
I lick my lips.
It’s not so much the others that get me excited, it’s really just him.
Once his shirt falls open, I move the tie out of the way and run my fingers over each defined pectoral muscle.
They relax and flex with each breath and I bite my lower lip to hold back the excitement that starts to build in my core.
At the bar, I take my martini and watch Nicholas take a sip of his whiskey.
We make firm eye contact before he gazes down at my breasts. This very expensive bra does make them look amazing.
I glance around the room.
Nicholas’ eyes aren’t the only ones on me.
We are the newcomers here. Fresh meat. We’re here to do a job, but first, it’s time to play.
8
When we meet them…
Carrying our drinks, we make our way toward the far end of the room where two groups of couples sit perched on a fat leather couch. The tall blonde has her hands on the crotch of the man next to her who is dressed in nothing but a black pair of James Bond style knickers.
I can see his massive package and she licks her lips as she feels it.
The couples are so engrossed in conversation that I wonder if they will make room for us.
They do.
The smaller brunette seizes her gaze on my bosom and immediately sits up and waves us over. Her legs part and cross at the ankles and I mimic her body position when I sit down.
Nicholas introduces us as Thomas and Meredith Puglisi.
Just a couple of everyday normal couples coming to a strange house to meet other normal couples they can hook up with. I can’t help but smile at the ridiculousness of this situation. And yet…at the same time…maybe this is my chance.
As Nicholas talks and I nod and confirm whatever it is that he says, I turn my body slightly toward him and part my legs. The corset digs into my thighs but it also forces me to sit up straight and makes my breasts look fucking epic.
Danika Montezuma, the brunette, hangs on every word that Nicholas says while touching her face and lips. When he makes a joke, her skin flushes and she laughs nervously.
Suddenly, a pang of jealousy rushes through me like a bolt of lightning.
I am not Nicholas’ girlfriend.
The only reason I’m here is to pretend to be his wife.
But this is not a place where regular rules of society apply. The whole point of this place is to break all rules of engagement.
Everyone here is either a couple or a single woman looking to get with someone else.
Some are into finding a third, some are into a full blown orgy.
So, if Danika wants Nicholas, there is nothing really that I can do to stop her from having him. Right?
I don’t know.
I’ve never been anywhere like this.
So far it feels like a bar or a nightclub just with more scantily clad people. But the fact that if you like someone all you have to do is go to another room, makes it quite unlike any other nightclub I’ve ever been to.
“Meredith, right?” a beautiful man with messy cool blond hair says, putting his hand on my knee.
My cheeks flush and I flash him a quick smile.
“Yes,” I confirm. “What’s your name again?”
“Jack Gilbert,” he says, running his fingers up my thigh.
He lets his hand linger there, probably waiting for me to draw the line between what’s okay and what’s not.
But my eyes drift over to Nicholas and I see Danika’s breasts brushing up to his arm.
He touches his jaw, and then reaches over to lift her chin.
I purse my lips, clenching my teeth.
Danika isn’t the mark, and neither is Jack.
Why are we here wasting our time with them?
Why is he subjecting me to this?
Of course, the truth is that at this moment, I couldn’t care less about the con. I’m again in the dark about most of it, expected to just play a part as his sidekick.
But watching him flirting with another woman, touching her…my jealousy tightens all of the muscles in my body.
My stomach hardens and my breaths become faster and coarser, getting lodged somewhere in the back of my throat on their way in and out.
Immediately my mind plays a game of comparison with my rival. I’m at least twenty pounds heavier. My thighs are much bigger. My hair isn’t as shiny. My eyes aren’t as beautiful.
But then she leans over to me and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. Jack runs his hand on the inside of my thigh.
My eyes dart to Nicholas as I search his face not so much for help but for an explanation.
Instead of providing one, he just leans over and kisses my neck.
“Stay with it,” he whispers.
I inhale loudly and lean back against the couch.
When Danika reaches for Jack, he brings his hands up to her face and kisses her.
They kiss each other by leaning across me.
For a moment, I lose myself in the way Jack’s toned body tenses and relaxes with each breath and then it occurs to me that it’s okay to touch.
I reach over to him and press my fingertips to his skin.
He moans and I let them move down his body watching his mouth move around hers.
A quick jerk snaps me out of my trance.
It’s Nicholas standing in front of me and pulling me up from the couch. Danika and Jack part long enough for me to get up before falling back into each other’s arms.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“We need to go somewhere else.”
I follow him but reading the expression on his face, I can tell that this isn’t planned.
No, it’s not like something is happening or we are about to be found out.
It’s something else altogether.
His movements are quick as if he is fueled by anger rather than a strong sense of purpose.
Then it hits me.
I stop in the hallway, pulling my hand away from his. “Are you jealous?” I ask.
9
When I see her…
“No, I’m not jealous,” he snaps back at me. I smile. He’s a good liar but not that good.
“Why are you smiling?”
I shrug. “Just find it funny.”
“There is nothing funny about this,” he says.
He leads me down a few stairs to another room. There are couples having drinks at the far end, but he pulls me into a semi-private booth near the entrance.
“I can’t sit here,” I say.
“You have to,” he says. “I want to talk.”
“I can’t sit here because if I continue to wear this corset for another minute, I’m going to pass out.”
As much as I love the way my waist looks in this thing (this is the first time in a long time that I haven’t felt self-conscious about my midsection), sitting in it is nearly impossible.