CHAPTER FOUR
Jack
“What do you mean he called you?” I asked in disbelief. What the hell was Nico Salazar’s problem? Why the fuck did he want me to be a member of his club so badly?
“Just what I said, dumbass,” Jonah chuckled. “He called me on vacation and Kim is pissed.”
“I don’t blame her.”
He lowered his voice. “No, I mean, she was only pissed because he called me even though he knew I was on vacation. She has no clue he wants me to join his fucking sex club. God. Can you imagine if she found that out?”
No. No I could not. Kim was Jonah’s gorgeous wife.
Even though her family, originally from South Korea, had been in this country for three generations, and she was just as American as any of us, she’d always been hyper aware of their mixed-race status.
I mean, we did live in the South, and though it had changed a hell of a lot, it was sadly still one of the more racist areas in our country.
They’d been together since high school. She’d been prom queen, head cheerleader, and all of that shit.
But she’d always been secretly afraid of Jonah ditching her for a blonde white girl.
Even though he’d literally never dated a blonde white girl.
Any wife would flip out at the thought of their husband in a sex club, but I thought Kim would be extra rage-y.
I shuddered. I loved my sister-in-law as if she was my actual sister, but it was not fun to be around her when she was mad.
“So, what do you want? Why are you calling me about it?”
“Why do you think? Get him off my back, man. He doesn’t want me—not really. We both know he just wants you. Just go take a tour. He said you promised him you would at the golf tournament. So go. Fuck around. Enjoy yourself.”
I sighed, leaned back in my chair, and rubbed the bridge of my nose. Maybe this would get my mind off Daisy. It had been a couple of days, and she was still all I could think about. Maybe if I fucked a girl or two, I’d get back to normal. “Fine. I’ll go.”
“Really?” he was surprised. Shocked, even.
“Yeah, I’ll go.” I leaned back in my chair and looked out the window. I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him that I needed to get my mind off the deli delivery girl before I turned into a crazy obsessed stalker.
If it wasn’t already too late for me.
“Great.” He sounded relieved. “Because I told him you’d be there tonight.”
I sat up suddenly, jolting forward in my chair and bracing my hands on my desk to keep my upper body from slamming into it. “What the fuck?”
“Ten o’clock. Wear a suit.” I could hear the smile on his face.
And the fucker hung up.
I wanted to throw my phone.
Then I heard someone talking to Grandma out front. Daisy. It had to be her. I wanted to go out there and stare at her, but I restrained myself. I had to get control over this.
Instead, I waited until Grandma brought my lunch to me.
“You missed seeing Daisy today.” Her perceptive eyes searched my face.
“I’m busy,” I said shortly, as if I didn’t care about seeing the deli delivery girl more than anything else in my day.
Grandma cocked an eyebrow, a slight smile on her face. “That girl is a find. Beautiful, sweet, smart—they don’t come like that all the time.”
I grunted and took my lunch from her, doing my best not to notice the disappointed look on her face.
I closed the door behind me. As I sat at my desk and spooned the creamy tomato soup to my mouth, I knew my brother was right.
I needed to get laid.
Badly. Maybe then I could quit obsessing about Daisy.
***
“This really wasn’t necessary,” I said, slightly pissed, in the back of the limo Nico Salazar had sent to my penthouse to pick me up.
“Are you kidding?” he asked, his dark blue eyes sizing me up in a calculating way.
He grinned. “I wasn’t about to leave it up to chance that you’d show, Lancaster.
When Jonah said you’d be at Cayenne tonight, I have to confess, I didn’t believe him.
So,” he shrugged and leaned back against the plush leather seat, lowball glass of whiskey in his hand, “I made damn sure it happened.”
“Yeah. Fine.” I fiddled with my tie. It seemed too tight. I knew I was being an uptight ass, but I didn’t really care. He wanted me in his club. This was the real me. I didn’t do public appearances. I didn’t do ‘peopling’ well at all. But he’d recruited me.
He ignored my awkwardness completely. “Little background for you—there are four clubs. There’s Saffron, a health club and spa; Sugar, an up-scale strip club and bar; Cayenne, a sex club with a two-drink limit, normally, but for you, tonight, we won’t worry about that,” he winked at me as he poured a glass of whiskey for me and basically wrapped my fingers around it.
“Then there’s Cinnamon, a gentleman’s club and bar, among other things. ”
“Okay,” I said, hoping like hell he didn’t expect me to tour all of those places tonight.
“So, this is how it’s going to go,” he informed me, seeming to sense he just needed to take charge of this situation.
“The only thing you’re touring tonight is Cayenne.
The sex club. You can add the others any time you want to.
I’ll take you to Cayenne first. You can have as much time there as you’d like. There’s no hurry at all.
“Take a couple of days to think it over after you’ve had some fun tonight. And when you’ve thought about it, call me, we’ll meet at Sugar, have a few drinks, watch the girls, and go over the perks of membership.”
His arm was stretched along the back of the seat as if we were great friends who had this kind of talk all the time.
Not like we were virtual strangers and he was discussing me getting my brains fucked out at his sex club so I’d be more likely to join his ridiculously over-priced member’s only string of clubs.
I shook my head and looked out the window. But all I said was, “Fine.”
“Great.” He acted as if I’d said I was pumped about doing the tour tonight. “Tell me, Jack, what is it you particularly like so I can be prepared.”
I turned and stared at him. “What do you mean?”
“What would you be interested in at Cayenne? The sex club,” he added again as if maybe I’d forgotten in the past thirty seconds.
Daisy. That’s what I liked. I swallowed hard. “Uh… women. I like women.”
He chuckled. “Yeah. I mean, I thought that. I’d heard, believe me. What I’m talking about is what kind of women? Do you like to fuck just one at a time or a few? Do you like to watch? Do you like others to watch you? Do you like to share with other guys?”
I must’ve been staring at him and blinking like an owl, because he leaned forward and whispered, “This will be a better experience for you if you let me cater it a bit to your… proclivities.”
Huh. What did I like? I liked every bit of what he’d just said. I wasn’t exactly picky. I loved to fuck, and if it felt good, I was probably willing to try it at least once.
“Yeah, I’m good with all of that.”
His eyebrows raised just a bit, the first sign that I’d either surprised him or he was getting frustrated with me. “Well, I can certainly work with that. But is there anything, anything at all, that you like that might be out of the ordinary at all?”
I thought about it. I liked to be in charge, but I wasn’t sure that made me a Dom, as they’re called.
I wasn’t into the whole sadomasochism thing.
Bondage? That got my dick hard. But I didn’t know about discipline during sex.
It seemed awkward to me, though I liked the thought of women being submissive to me.
And I got the sense that if I actually cared about a woman, like Daisy, I would just about rather die than share her with another guy.
But just some random chick at a sex club? I wouldn’t mind sharing then.
A memory of Daisy smiling at me, her T-shirt totally see through went through my head. “I like girls with long, dark hair and green eyes.”
Nico paused with his drink halfway to his mouth. “That’s… specific. Anything else?”
“Big tits and an ass I can hold on to,” I admitted, loosening my tie a bit more.
“Got it,” he narrowed his eyes. “I’ll do my best to get someone like that for you. What else would you like?”
“I like being in charge,” I said in a low voice, not at all comfortable with the conversation.
“All the time, or…”
I shook my head, finished with this conversation. “I don’t fucking know, Nico. I just like to fuck women. It doesn’t have to be a whole conversation, does it?”
He backed off, sensing that he was about to lose me. I was seriously close to just opening the door and rolling out of the limo at the next stop light.
“No, of course not,” his smile was strained. “I’ve got a few activities planned that should work out.”
I nodded and wondered if there was some sort of internal lock that would keep me from opening the limo door while it was running.
But then we pulled up at a back entrance to Cayenne. “Let’s go,” he said, getting out of the car.
I got out, wondering just what the hell I’d gotten myself into.