Amiyah
Back at Lena’s, the night air clung to our skin, sticky with barbecue smoke and sweat. We were sprawled across her living room floor, two half-empty bottles of wine and a bag of gummy worms between us, our hair piled up in messy buns.
Lena had her fan going on high, lying back against the couch with her legs stretched out. She glanced at me, eyes narrowed. “Alright, spill it. You been glowing harder than Beyoncé at Coachella since you came back from that bathroom. What the hell happened in there?”
I covered my face with both hands, laughing nervously. “Oh my God, Lena—”
“Don’t you dare leave me hanging, Miya. You dragged me to that damn cookout where every man looks like sin and every woman looks like they stepped off a runway. I need the tea. Now.”
I peeked out between my fingers, grinning. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
She sat up straighter. “Girl, please. I’m begging you to corrupt me.”
I sucked in a breath and let it out slow. “Calla followed me to the bathroom. There was a knock on the door, and when I opened it… she grabbed me by the throat and kissed me.”
Lena’s eyes went wide as she fanned herself dramatically. “Jesus.”
I couldn’t help it—I burst into laughter, the memory rushing back hot and fast. “No, it was… Lena, it was nasty. She didn’t waste a second. She pushed me up against the door and slid her hand straight down my shorts.”
My best friend clutched her chest like she’d been shot. “And you let her?”
“Let her?” I giggled, shaking my head. “Girl, I spread my thighs like I was on payroll.”
We both broke into cackles, wine sloshing dangerously in our glasses.
When the laughter died down, I swallowed and lowered my voice. “She finger-fucked me, Lena. Right there, standing up. Two fingers, deep, curling just right—her other hand was on my throat, making me look her in the eye while she whispered the filthiest shit I’ve ever heard in my life.”
Lena’s fan clicked louder as she flipped it on high. “Oh my God.”
“She made me say it,” I whispered, cheeks burning. “Made me call her Mistress. And when I did…” I trailed off, goosebumps racing down my arms. “I came so hard I thought my knees were gonna give out. She licked me off her fingers while I was still shaking.”
Lena’s jaw dropped, her lashes fluttering like she was trying not to combust. “Miya, I swear to God… if you don’t fuck that woman, I’m fighting you or fucking her, one of the two.”
I buried my face in a pillow, laughing so hard tears pricked my eyes. “She gives dom vibes, right? Like… capital-D Dom.”
“Dom?” Lena scoffed. “She gives CEO of my pussy vibes. I can see it all over her. The woman breathes power. No wonder you look like you saw Jesus in the bathroom mirror.”
I groaned into the pillow, my stomach aching from laughing. But when I lifted my head, my grin faded into something hungrier. “That’s not all I saw.”
Lena arched a brow. “Oh, there’s more?”
I bit my lip, heat pooling low in my belly. “After I got myself together, I came back out but couldn’t shake this feeling… so I followed them. James pulled Calla to the side of the house. I hid by the corner and…”
Her eyes widened. “And?”
I swallowed, my voice dropping. “I saw him drop to his knees. Eating her pussy like he was starving. And then he—” My thighs pressed together, heat shooting through me all over again. “—he spread her open and ate her ass too. Like he belonged there. Like she was his last meal.”
Lena slapped her own thigh, her jaw dropping. “NO. You did not watch that happen.”
“I did.” My cheeks burned, but my smile was wicked. “And I touched myself watching them. Rubbed my clit until I came while he tongue-fucked her from behind. I didn’t even feel ashamed. Not a drop of guilt, just pure hunger.”
Lena tossed her head back, fanning herself like she needed CPR. “Girl. You’re a nasty little voyeur, and I love it.”
I laughed, covering my mouth, my body buzzing with the admission. “I can’t stop thinking about it, Lena. Calla breaking me in that bathroom. James owning her outside like she was his, while I was watching, wanting them both, fuck, I think I need them both.”
Lena smirked, eyes glittering. “So you want them together? You want to be their little plaything.”
I sighed, my voice shaky but sure. “God help me… I can’t wait to experience them both at once.”
The room went quiet except for the hum of the fan, and for once, Lena didn’t tease me. She just nodded slowly, eyes dark, lips curling.
“Then, best friend… you better buckle up. ‘Cause from what I saw today, they’re not gonna stop until they’ve got you right where they want you.”
Her words sank into me, thick and electric, and I couldn’t deny the truth.
I didn’t want them to stop.
Lena was still fanning herself, giggling every time I glanced at her. “Miya, I swear… You had the nastiest night of your life at a family cookout. This some shit only you would do.”
I rolled onto my back, staring at her ceiling. “Don’t remind me, my head is still spinning.”
She propped herself up on one elbow, eyes glittering. “Well, since we’re talking about freak shit… You know I got a new set tonight.”
I turned my head toward her. “At Provocateur?”
“Mhm.” She smirked, biting into a gummy worm. “They finally gave me a prime slot. Whole new routine I’ve been working on. It’s sexy as hell, too. I want you there, Miya. Come watch me and cheer me on. I need my number one fan.”
I loved watching Lena disappear and Soleil take the stage.
Watching her dance was the definition of poetry in motion.
The skill and grace of a classically trained ballet dancer, but the seduction and sex appeal of a porn star.
There had been a time or two when I'd wondered just how my best friend fucked because she danced so nasty whenever she hit the stage.
“Lena, I’m already overstimulated from the day’s events. Provocateur is sure to make me soak through my fucking panties,” I groaned, my body shuddering at the pleasure of Calla’s fingers curling in and out of me.
Lena stretched out on the couch, finishing her glass of wine. “Well, if you won’t come for me, at least promise me you’ll go one day. Provocateur isn’t just a club—it’s a whole experience. And tonight… whew.” She fanned herself dramatically. “The Black Dahlia’s performing.”
I frowned. “The who?”
“The Black Dahlia.” Lena sat up, eyes wide. “You don’t know? She’s like… legend. Nobody knows who she really is, but she’s a sadist’s sadist. The way she commands a stage? It’s like watching a storm take human form. People pay top dollar just to get a session with her.”
I laughed nervously, sipping my wine. “Sounds… intense.”
“Intense?” Lena grinned. “Girl, it’s art. Filthy, dangerous, beautiful art. She’s the reason half the city suddenly thinks they’re kinky.”
Something hot and uneasy fluttered in my stomach, though I couldn’t say why. I shook my head. “Yeah, no. Not tonight. I can’t handle any more… intensity.”
Lena rolled her eyes but smiled. “Fine. I’ll let you off the hook. But one day? I’m dragging your ass there myself. You have to see The Black Dahlia at least once before you die.”
I forced a laugh, hiding the heat creeping up my neck. “We’ll see.”
I couldn’t sleep.
Lena had gone to her room to finish getting ready, blasting Trina and bouncing around like she was about to headline the damn club. I’d claimed her couch, phone glowing in my hand, glass of wine sweating on the table.
I told myself I was staying put. I told myself it was safer here, wrapped in a blanket with Netflix queued up, than out there in whatever chaos Provocateur promised.
But Calla’s voice kept replaying in my head. “Say it, say you’re mine.”
The way her fingers curled inside me, the way she’d looked at me like she could see every dirty thought I’d ever had.
Then there was James, on his knees, devouring her like worship, like hunger, like rage.
My hand twitched, remembering how I touched myself watching them, how shame never even entered the picture.
My pulse wouldn’t settle. My thighs clenched restlessly. And before I could talk myself out of it, I was opening our message thread.
Me: Don’t kill me. But… leave my name at the front desk. I changed my mind.
Three dots blinked almost instantly, then—
Bestie: ?????? I KNEW YOU COULDN’T STAY HOME. I got you, bestie. You won’t regret this. Trust…oh, and bring out your sluttiest outfit, make these niggas eat out the palm of your hand tonight.
I dropped my head back against the cushion, groaning. “Lord, what am I doing?”
But the truth was, I already knew.
I was exploring what was inside the Pandora box that James and Calla were causing me to open within myself. I knew at Provocateur I could be pleased by watching others experience pleasure, and so tonight I would leave my inhibitions at home and see just how nasty it could get.
I spent way too long in front of Lena’s mirror before I left, but when I caught my reflection one last time, I couldn’t deny it—tonight, I looked like danger.
A sleek black sheer bodycon minidress clung to every curve, my thighs hugged by sheer stockings that disappeared into thigh-high leather boots.
My pierced nipples were on full display in the dress, as a black leather trench cinched me in, making me look untouchable until I chose otherwise.
Thick gold hoops brushed my jawline, and my curly hair hung free down my back, making my gorgeous face stand out.
My makeup was full glam, my lips shining like I was a performer tonight.
I looked like I could break hearts and cash checks in the same night.
And I felt as good as I looked.