Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
OPHELIA
I never meant to show Apollo my special place. The plan was to leave him in the office upstairs, get acquainted with the finances, and then disappear into The O Club. But I wanted to see how he would react.
He’s excited.
Intrigued.
His head pops into each room to get a better look. Apollo is like a little boy in a toy store, except this one is more fun. I wonder if he’ll ask to fuck the girls and if he’ll want the family discount to become a member.
He likes it here.
What man wouldn’t?
We stroll down the dark hallway with Annabelle between us. She’s a tiny thing with a heart-shaped face, a Southern drawl, and small, pink nipples.
Our members will like her.
My dad made the right decision by offering me a quarter share of the club. Without me, this place would fall apart. The last moron who managed The O Club was picking hookers up on corners and giving them jobs.
That shit doesn’t fly with me.
My girls are the prettiest and sexiest women I could find. They come from all over the country, and some we even recruited overseas from webcam sites. The women of The O Club are like caviar.
And worth the money.
We enter a room to our left, where one of my favorite clients waits for us. Travis is a hedge fund manager from Manhattan and enjoys helping me train the girls. He flew in to meet Annabelle.
He licks his lips as we approach him. “Mistress O, as always, you chose well.” His head lowers to take in every inch of Annabelle’s body. “My, my, you’re a beauty. What is your name, darling?”
“Annabelle,” she whispers, her accent thick as the name rolls off her tongue.
New girls are almost always shy, but the men find this more of a turn-on because they think it means they can teach them something.
Not my girls, though.
She may look shy and adorable, but Annabelle is about to blow Travis’s mind. I found her at some hole-in-the-wall strip club in Louisiana after someone forwarded me a video they had taken.
The person who sent the video was a member of The O Club and said she gave the best head he’d ever had in the Champagne Room. That was high praise, considering the quality of my girls. So, I tracked Annabelle down and offered her a job.
“Mistress O.” Travis extends his hand to me. “You are a vision this evening.”
I place my hand in his, which he kisses. He’s obsessed with Mistress O and has even offered to pay me his yearly membership fee for one night.
One million dollars.
Of course, I said no.
Travis is wearing a black carnival mask with red accents and nothing else, his average size dick on display.
His dark blond hair is short on the top and styled with gel.
He’s in good shape and in his late forties.
But, like most of our members, I only saw his face the day we met.
After passing a thorough background check, he signed the nondisclosures and legal documents, and I took his money.
No questions asked.
I don’t care why the men are here or if they’re married and have children. We never really know a person, anyway. Even spouses keep secrets and hide their deepest and darkest desires. It’s an illusion we create to be happy.
This little slice of paradise is their haven. It’s also mine. So, I don’t judge. I have learned to let go of preconceived notions about our members.
It’s more than a sex club.
The O Club is an experience.
A lifestyle if you can afford it.
I stand by the bed with Apollo at my side as Annabelle gets on it with Travis. Most of our clients have wives and girlfriends. They come here to escape it all and relive a piece of the single life.
I don’t judge.
Nor do I care.
We have a handful of wealthy women who frequent the club.
They often come for some girl-on-girl action before our male members team up on them.
The women members are freaky and a big hit with the men.
I suspect some of them know each other. They prefer to explore their sexuality while hiding behind a mask in the dark.
Annabella sucks Travis into her mouth, and I kneel on the bed beside them when she’s too aggressive. This is all part of my job. Travis is used to me guiding the girls onto his cock and pays extra for it.
Apollo shifts behind me as I wrap Annabelle’s hair around my fist, moving her head to show her another technique. I wonder what Apollo is doing. Is he touching his hard cock? Does this excite him as much as it excites me?
I like knowing that he’s watching me.
“Mistress,” Travis groans. “That’s perfect.”
It’s like I’ve fucked Travis a hundred times. But this is the closest we ever get. I know he has a hard-on for me, and I like it. Not because I’m interested in him.
I enjoy knowing a man finds me desirable. Until Ares and Atlas said I was sexy, I only ever felt that way at The O Club.
Once Annabelle finds the perfect rhythm, I let go of her hair. She sucks Travis the way I showed her. I’m giving sex tips when I haven’t had sex since I fucked Constantine.
Six months ago.
I watch Annabelle’s spectacular performance, which is worthy of an Oscar. Apollo breathes harder. He hasn’t spoken a word, but I know he’s into this.
I turn my head to look at him.
His gaze meets mine.
He licks his lips.
I bite mine.
Travis groans loudly, and I snap my attention back to him. After he finishes in Annabelle’s mouth, he looks at me.
“Can I keep her for the night, Mistress?” Travis brushes his thumb over her cheek, his semi-hard cock popping out of her mouth. “I like this one.”
“I knew you would.”
I turn to leave, and he says, “Stay.” Then he pats the bed. “Join us.”
“You know the rules, Trav.” I shake my head. “Mistress O is off-limits. But sure, you can keep Annabelle for the night.”
I sound ridiculous talking about myself in the third person. But Mistress O is not real. She’s my alter ego I keep tucked in the darkest depths of my mind.
“What about me?” Apollo dips his head down and whispers in my ear, “Can I fuck Mistress O?”
I stiffen at his question.
A thrill rushes over me, but I don’t show my excitement. I glance up at Apollo, my heart hammering in my chest. Sweat breaks out on my neck and spreads down my back.
He holds my gaze for a second and then looks away. “I need to get started on the books. I’ll find my way if you can point me toward the office.”
Seriously?
I want to answer his question.
Yes, I would let him.
I want him so badly.
Instead, I guide him out of the room. It’s better this way. Nothing good could come from fucking him.
* * *
When I look at my watch again, it’s almost three o’clock. In a few hours, I have to go shopping with Athena. That was part of the deal I struck to get my rightful share of the club.
I strip off the corset inside my office and ditch the mask, quickly returning to Ophelia. I love having an alter ego. It helps me to become more confident—more in control. Unfortunately, though, I still struggle when I’m away from Olympus.
I meet Constantine at the top of the stairs.
He holds open the door with his hip. “Rough night, Mistress?”
I nod. “Training the girls is tedious. I could use a snack if you have something waiting for me in the limo.”
As we exit the club through the back door, he says, “That’s not the only thing waiting for you.”
The limo’s door opens.
Apollo pops his head out.
“I offered to drive him home earlier, but he insisted on waiting for you in the car.”
“It’s okay,” I tell him and throw out my hand, gesturing for Apollo to slide across the leather bench to make room.
He inches backward. His dark, intense eyes are laser-focused on me. “You look like Ophelia again.”
“I usually do by the end of the night.” I climb into the limo beside him, and we drive home seconds later. “How was your first night?”
Apollo inspects my face as if searching for traces of Mistress O. “It was great,” he deadpans. “Best night of my life. I got to hang out with Connie and have quality male bonding time.”
“You could have stayed downstairs with me for a little longer.” I grab my late-night snack from the bar and bottled water. Peeling back the chocolate bar wrapper, I ask, “Are the books in order?”
He swipes a hand across his jaw. “I need more time with them. I got very little done with your boyfriend hovering over my shoulder.”
I take a few bites of the chocolate and wash it down with water. “I’ll talk to him, okay? Constantine isn’t used to sharing me with anyone. And he’s kinda protective.”
“I can see that,” he shoots back. “He threatened to cut off my balls if I touched you.”
“Well, it won’t come to that.” I fold the foil over the half-eaten candy bar and offer it to Apollo. “Want some?”
He pushes out his hand. “No, I’d better not. Ares has me on a low-sugar diet.”
“Are you diabetic?”
He shakes his head. “My brother is obsessive about health. He’s into herbal supplements and organic everything. If he even sees sugar or carbs, he flips out on us. ”
I toss my hair over my shoulder and stroke my fingers through the ends. “He must love what I eat.”
Apollo’s shoulders raise a few inches. “He wouldn’t say anything to you. My brother likes you too much. He’s still in the honeymoon phase and trying to impress you.”
“If he says anything to me about food, I’ll kick his ass.”
He tips his head back and laughs. “I’d love to see that. You’re the only woman who’s ever put him in his place.”
“That’s the only reason he’s pursuing me,” I say, confident that I’m only a conquest. “A guy like Ares would never be into someone like me.”
“You undervalue yourself, Mistress.” He moves closer to me on the bench, and I’m suddenly too aware of how good he smells. “Instead of asking yourself why Ares would be into you, ask why you would be into him. I love my brother, but you’re way out of his league. Not the other way around.”
My heart pounds so hard I can hear the thumping in my ears. I find it challenging to look at Apollo. I never once thought of myself as worthy of a guy like him.
Or his brothers.
“Do you think that?” I mutter after my heart calms to an average rate. “That I’m too good for Ares?”
He bobs his head. “You have more to offer Ares than he could ever give you.”
I feel stupid for associating looks with worth. But as a young girl, my friends and classmates emphasized beauty more.
They saw me as the fat girl.
So, I saw myself that way too.
I’m learning more about myself from the Demetriou brothers in a few weeks than in my twenty-three years.
Apollo leans over, a strange expression casting a dark cloud over his gorgeous face. “How do you do that every night? Become someone else.”
I’m stunned by his question. No one has ever asked me about my work. I sacrifice relationships to keep this part of my life private–the only part I love. I cut off whatever friends I had left when I became Mistress O, and dating is out of the question.
“I like it,” I admit. “It’s the only thing I have left now that my mom is gone.
When I’m Mistress O, no one looks at my body like I’m disgusting.
They’re not judging me. I can be myself when I’m there.
I don’t want to take off the mask and go home some nights.
That’s why I can’t lose Olympus. I’ll do anything to get my share. ”
Apollo startles me by closing the distance between us. “You can be whoever you want. But I prefer Ophelia.”
The warmth of his breath rolls across my lips, sparking a wild desire in me. I’m practically panting, waiting for him to make a move.
I don’t feel so stupidly insecure with Apollo. He sees me for who I am and likes me. His lips part, and for a moment, I think he will kiss me.
But the limo abruptly stops.
I’m thrown back against the bench. So is Apollo. We stay on our respective sides of the car, breathing harder than before.
His eyes drift to my mouth, and he licks his lips. “To be continued, Mistress.”
Then he gets out of the limo, leaving me soaking through my panties and desperate for more.