Chapter 11 Eden #2
“Not my age?”
“To afford a weekend at La Mariposa? Only young guys who can afford that are insufferable nepo boys and tech bros, and you wouldn’t be into either.”
“You’re right. I wouldn’t be.”
“That said, I was thirty the first time I went to La Mariposa.”
“I bet you were.”
Liam put both hands on her leg. “You let me know if he’s not treating you right. At all.”
Was he suddenly being serious? That was the thing about Liam.
He could be hot and cold like that. Joking around one second and talking about the meaning of life the next.
Eden liked it, but she wasn’t sure if the serious chat came from somewhere deeper than surface level.
She supposed it was something she would figure out as the weeks and months went by.
Assuming they lasted that long.
“Now, tell me…” He leaned in over her, his breath touching her face before she knew a kiss was coming. “Am I the first guy you’ve ever brought back to your place?”
“To this place?” Eden needed confirmation between kisses. “I’ve only been here a year.”
“Yes or no, love.”
“Yes, Liam.”
He cupped both hands around her face. “Beautiful. Please, let me be the first to break in that bed for you.”
“You’re calling dibs on that, are you?”
“I’m calling dibs on a lot of things.”
She would hold him to that.
“I haven’t been here in forever,” Benson said outside of the club entrance, where finely dressed people in dark coats and designer shoes descended a short staircase to be greeted by the impossibly polite bouncer. “Even longer since I had a date. I reupped my membership for you.”
Eden, who had been here more recently than he, shivered from the cold. She wore the skimpiest black dress she could find beneath her coat, and it was still way too frosty at night. “It’s an honor,” she said with a two-finger salute. “To be your sexy date in a sex club, sir.”
“I didn’t have to pay for it.” He popped a mint into his mouth. “Unless you count dinner.”
“How many escorts do you date in The Dark Hour, Ben?”
“It was a joke, angel.”
“No, I’m the one joking, Ben.”
They both rolled their eyes at each other while linking arms and approaching the bouncer.
He nodded to them, the door already open before they made it all the way.
Ooh, full service when I’m with an older hotshot.
Either Benson was a regular the bouncer recognized over the years, or he was just so damn good looking that the bouncer thought, “Yup, he belongs here. Especially with a lady like that on his arm.”
The club checked his membership inside. Since Eden had been there before as her friend’s guest, she didn’t need a tour or to have the rules explained to her.
And since she had been there in the past year, her NDA was up to date.
Benson was impressed until she reminded him that she had been scouted here at The Dark Hour.
“That’s gotta go to a girl’s head,” he said once they entered the club, Eden slightly in front of him and taking in the sights of well-dressed people hanging out at the bar and at intimate bistro tables.
The theme that night – which Eden wished she had known about – was a black light party, and many women came with luminescent makeup and jewelry.
One wore a bright orange tube dress that almost blinded Eden as her date guided her to a hostess.
Benson wasn’t the kind to forge his own path in the club.
He wanted the full hosting experience, including being shown to a private corner with a good view of the main stage.
The hostess knelt beside them to take their drink orders.
Benson ordered them a bottle of Champagne to share, but didn’t hesitate to ask if Eden wanted anything else.
“Soda water with lime would be great,” she said. “I had that wine at the restaurant.”
Benson didn’t say anything as the hostess walked away with a heavy sway in her step, as if she had trained herself to walk with maximum butt in everyone’s line of sight.
Probably. Eden looked around, noticing that most of the staff in their black dresses and jackets held themselves to certain posture standards.
And that included the women who were clearly there looking for a different kind of work that night.
I don’t think I know anyone here. This was Eden’s first time not coming with a friend who also worked in the industry.
Not only was her hostess friend off that night, but Blair had assured Eden that she was not performing on stage that night.
Eden blissfully did not know any of the names of the couples and singles on the list. Benson likewise admitted that he didn’t recognize anyone, but that “was how he liked it.”
Their Champagne came quickly, the hostess popping it with a little flair before pouring two flutes for the happy couple.
She told them to flag her down or any of the other waitresses available that night if they needed something.
Once they were alone, Benson put his arm around Eden and pulled her back against the couch.
“You certainly feel in your element here,” she said, walking her fingers up his chest and resting her chin against his shoulder. “Been here a few times, Ben?”
“You have no idea. After my divorce, I spent too much time here. Then…”
Her ears perked up. “What?”
“Let’s just say I once knew someone who also liked spending a lot of time here. Especially on certain nights.”
“Oh? What kind?”
“I think you can guess.”
Eden giggled before the Champagne touched her lips.
You naughty boy, Ben. Eden certainly could guess.
Between his voyeurism and affinity for playing in groups, Eden guessed that he had once been a regular at events that included as many people as possible.
Or invite-only gigs when it was a special woman’s birthday.
I saw a sign-up for that tonight! Absolutely wild!
To think… that was how some women wanted to spend their birthdays! I kinda get it now…
“My friend Blair invited me to Ladies’ Night,” Eden said. “Women and women-identified people only. She said it’s a huge lez-fest, and the only night a lot of women come. Think I should go?”
“Are you interested in women like that?”
She realized she had never had that kind of conversation with him – or Liam – before.
“Dunno. I fooled around with a friend back in college, but it didn’t really go anywhere.
Am I bi? Maybe. Never really thought about it.
” She wrapped an arm around his torso. “Would you have a problem with that, Mr. Smith? Watching your girlfriend make out with another girl?”
“Not a problem at all.” His hand squeezed her shoulder. “I have no problem with anyone’s sexuality. Be who you are, angel.”
Kinda weird to put it that way when I was just joking. Still, good to know?
“They have an LGBT night here for the whole spectrum,” Benson said. “Maybe we should come to one of those. ‘Cause I think I might be frozen out of Ladies’ Night.”
“You think so? Have you been?”
“I’ve been on accident before, that’s for sure. I never know what to make of a bunch of guys hitting on me.”
“Doesn’t that happen at La Mariposa sometimes?” Those parties and orgies could get wild with everyone involved. Eden had heard her fair share of stories and seen a couple of things herself. “I mean, guys hitting on guys.”
“They even have events just for men. As in, it’s all men, including the Butterflies.”
“Huh? Really? This is my first time hearing it.”
“They do it twice a year. If you’re on the regular guest list, you hear about it.”
“Do they have one for all women, too?”
“Once a year.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound fair. They should get to live their sapphic fantasies out at least twice a year.”
“Welcome to supply and demand.”
Eden wanted to ask more questions, but the lights dimmed, and the first show of the night was soon underway.
She sipped more Champagne while watching a female Domme spank the dickens out of her male submissive.
The people sitting in front were really into it, especially a cabal of women in fishnet stockings and shoulder pads that could protect them in a fall.
“They’re terrifying,” Benson said.
“Who? Women?”
“Dommes.”
Eden laughed. “Why? Because they can put you in your place?”
They teased each other like that through most of the shows that hour, in between stealing kisses and feeling each other up, until Eden finally lost her jacket and Benson’s buttons came undone.
Once the Champagne was gone, they moved into another room, enjoying the black light spectacle that quickly turned all black once the lights were fully dimmed and exhibitionists had their fun in different corners of maze-like rooms.
“Nobody’s in the fish-bowl,” Eden said with an exaggerated frown as they continued to look for a place to sit. At least one that wasn’t occupied with other couples and groups in various stages of undress. “I mean, we could fix that, but I think they’d be bored with us in a few minutes.”
“Nobody is using the swing, either. What’s that about?”
“Oh, but the stripper poles are very busy.”
“Well, yeah. Everything’s covered in black light paint. It’s more fun.”
“Do you go twirling on poles sometimes, Ben?”
“Not anymore. It’s hell on my old man's back.”
They eventually found a giant armchair in an alcove that looked like it had been refreshed by a hostess on her way by with a lint-roller and fabric spray.
Benson flopped down on it before Eden crawled on and practically lay on him, both of them laughing because of how impractical it felt to fool around like this.
“Reminds you of something, does it?” Eden teased when she realized he was a little hard in his pants.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, remember? When you made me your date at a certain orgy? And we fooled around until we couldn’t go anymore?”
“With the other guy you’ve been seeing.”
“Yup. His codename was Neal. Does that ring any bells?”