Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
SARAH
I didn’t expect to go back to the club so soon, but it had seemed like a reasonable meeting place. Plus, Quentin and I may as well take advantage of our last few weeks of freedom before school starts.
The pulsing bass of the music thrums through my body as Quentin and I step into Club Caliber again, the atmosphere just as electric as it was last weekend. Excitement tightens in my chest, though this time, it’s layered with a different kind of anticipation.
I glance at my phone for what must be the tenth time in the past five minutes. Kat said she was coming, but there’s still a nervous edge inside me, an almost childish anxiety that she might change her mind. That I imagined the tension between us, the soft way she looked at me across the table at the coffee shop when we agreed to take this—whatever this is—one step at a time.
Quentin squeezes my hand, pulling me out of my thoughts. “She’ll come.” He knows me too well. I’m always worrying about something.
I nod in response but say nothing. One thing that’s great about Kat is that she says what she means and is straight to the point. If she hadn’t wanted to pursue this, she would have told me, so I’m not sure why I’m still so nervous.
We weave through the club, and the familiarity is calming. People lounge on the couches, some deep in conversation, others already tangled together in ways that will soon devolve into back-room debauchery.
As we settle into a pair of barstools, Quentin orders our drinks while I scan the crowd. The anticipation builds with each passing second until suddenly, I see her.
Kat steps into the club like she owns the place.
It’s ridiculous how instantly my body reacts. Her dark hair cascades in waves down her back, and her full lips are painted a deep red. She’s wearing a fitted black dress that hugs the curves I used to know so well, and fuck, I want to touch her so badly it hurts.
A tinge of guilt runs through me at my blatant desire for someone who’s not my husband, but I remind myself that he’s given me full permission to act on my feelings for her. He’s encouraged it.
A knowing smirk plays at Quentin’s lips when he turns away from the bar to hand me my drink and follows my gaze.
“She’s gorgeous,” he remarks.
My pulse quickens as she scans the room and her eyes lock on mine. “Yeah, she is.”
Kat lifts a brow when she sees the two of us watching her, and her lips curve into a subtly wicked smile before she makes her way toward us.
I should try to compose myself before she reaches us, but I’m already entirely unraveled. Quentin’s comment about Kat being gorgeous sticks in my mind, making me wonder how things might play out. While I’ve had plenty of fantasies about Kat, I somehow hadn’t even considered if the three of us would do anything together. I have no clue if that’s something Quentin or Kat would be interested in, but I suppose that’s a conversation for later.
“Hello, gorgeous,” Kat says as she slides onto the empty barstool beside me. Her voice has always had that confident, flirty edge to it, and it makes my stomach flip in excitement.
“Right back at you.” I laugh, shaking my head, trying to stave off the heat rising to my cheeks.
Quentin offers a friendly smile. “Glad you could make it.”
Kat’s gaze shifts briefly to him, giving him an appraising look and saying, “Thanks, me too,” before she returns her attention to me and stares at me long enough to make me squirm under her gaze. “You really do look beautiful.”
My heart leaps. “So do you.”
Quentin doesn’t seem fazed by the exchange. If anything, he seems amused by my reaction. He takes a slow sip of his drink, then casually drapes an arm over the back of my seat.
We all fall into easy conversation after that, talking about everything and nothing. I had been worried it would be awkward with the three of us together, but it isn’t. In fact, sitting here between my husband and the woman I used to care for feels right in a way I can’t quite explain.
There’s something electric about the air between us. Quentin, with his charming, attentive demeanor. Kat, with her confidence and sultry appeal. And me, between them, absorbing all this sensual energy until I’m ready to burst.
Somewhere between our first and second drinks, the conversation shifts to Club Caliber itself—what brought us here in the first place.
“So,” Kat says, swirling the last of her red wine in her glass. “How often do you two come here?”
“Not as often as we used to,” Quentin admits. “Life got busy for a while. But we’re trying to change that.”
Kat smirks. “Gotta keep things exciting, huh?” I sense the deeper meaning behind the phrase, though. She’s still worried she’s a temporary fixture here, someone to “spice things up” before Quentin and I go back to normal.
“Something like that,” I say, “but not exactly. This lifestyle is a part of who we are, not just a fun distraction. It’s only now that we’re able to explore that freely again, though.” Just as I noticed the underlying fear in her words, I hope she senses the double meaning in mine.
Kat hums, tapping a maroon nail against her wine glass. “Does that mean you two have a specific dynamic within all of this? Certain preferences?”
A thrill runs through me at the question. I steal a quick glance at Quentin, who only raises an eyebrow in encouragement.
“Yes. We’re in a Dom/sub dynamic, though it’s not a 24/7 thing. And we usually end up in one of the rooms here where others can watch…”
The corners of Kat’s lips lift in a curious smile. “Interesting”
“Mhm.” I take a sip of my wine to quell the awkward, nervous energy in my chest. I’ve never had a problem talking about it before, but saying it to Kat feels different, though maybe that’s because she and I have a past.
Kat leans in just a bit and lowers her voice as she says, “It doesn’t surprise me that you’re submissive. You always did like to let go of control.”
My cheeks flush and I take another sip of wine.
Quentin chuckles beside me, clearly entertained by the exchange. “She does,” he confirms, his voice warm as he brushes his fingers along my wrist. “And she’s very good at it. Though it sounds like you have a pretty good idea of that already.”
Kat pauses before saying, “Only a little bit.”
It’s true that while we had gotten involved physically as well as emotionally, both of us were so young that we didn’t really know anything about kink or BDSM at that time. There are many things we never got the chance to do, but now…
“What about you?” I ask her. “What tempted you to come here in the first place?”
She shifts so her knee brushes against mine. “When I started traveling, I ended up getting more involved in the kink community in a couple different cities. Figured out I’m a switch, so I had some fun over the years.”
Quentin studies her with open curiosity. “Is that so?” That seems to have piqued his interest. She not only is into both men and women, but apparently can be dominant or submissive. I also can’t help but consider the implications. Is there a chance that all three of us become involved? I hadn’t assumed there would be before, but with the way we’ve all been flirting tonight, I wonder…
Kat shrugs, but the glint in her eye suggests this is anything but casual. “I have my preferences,” she says, “but I don’t mind switching things up, depending on the right partner.”
The air between us thickens with tension.
I don’t know if it’s the drinks, the club, or the years of wondering what it would be like to touch her again, but I don’t hesitate when I reach out to thread my fingers through Quentin’s, then do the same with Kat.
“Should we head to the back?” Kat asks.
My breath hitches at the dark desire in her eyes. I glance over at Quentin, subconsciously worried he’ll change his mind about this whole thing, but he simply nods.
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since last weekend. I’ve been telling myself to tread carefully, to keep my emotions in check. But right now, with the heat of her gaze settling over me, I don’t want to be careful.
She brings out the reckless side of me that wants to chase the highs and live in the moment.
“Yeah, let’s go,” I say.
“Well then—” she reaches out to drag the tip of her finger down my forearm “—let’s play.”
My heart pounds with anticipation as Kat leads me by the hand toward the back of the club. Quentin follows at Kat’s request, which is both nerve-wracking and fills me with relief. I don’t want him to feel left out, but I can’t help but wonder how he’ll react to the two of us kissing, touching, or anything else.
We find an empty private room, though all the ones with windows to the hallway are occupied. Tonight, I’m okay with no one watching. This is exhilarating enough, being able to live out my long-lost fantasies with Kat.
Quentin locks the door behind us with a click that seems to resound through the silence. Now what ?
Kat’s eyes lock with mine, and she reaches out a hand. I take it, and she pulls me in closer to her, our bodies only inches away from each other. “I can’t believe I get to touch you again,” she whispers in awe.
And just like that, my resolve to take things slow shatters. I slide my hand over her shoulder and curl my fingers around the back of her neck before leaning in. The moment our lips meet, my world shifts.
Her touch overwhelms my body and my memory all at once. The softness of her lips, the feel of her body against mine, the way she consumes me with her kiss. She wraps her arms around my waist and pulls me in tightly, and every nerve in my body comes alive with need.
I moan into her mouth, my body already aching with the weight of everything I’ve denied myself for so long. She tilts her head, deepening the kiss and brushing her tongue against mine in a slow, deliberate tease. When I whimper and dig my nails into her shoulders, I feel her smile against my lips.
Behind me, on a chair in the far corner of the room, Quentin shifts, and the sudden reminder that we’re not alone sends a thrill though me. He’s watching me kiss her .
Kat must sense it because she pulls away just enough to murmur in her flirty tone, “Do you like that he’s watching us?”
I nod.
“Good,” she says, her lips brushing my jaw as her hands skim down my sides. “Then let’s give him a show. But for your sake, I’m taking this slow,” she adds.
I barely have time to process that before she’s kissing me again, harder this time, needier. Her hands slide lower, gripping my hips as she presses me back against the bed. I go willingly, my body already burning with need as I sink onto the mattress.
She follows, hovering over me as her hands press against my upper thighs before sliding up my body, over my stomach and breasts. Even at her slow pace, it’s not enough. She places her hands on either side of my head and props herself up just enough so that her full bodyweight isn’t on me but we’re still pressed against each other as she leans down to trail kisses up my neck. Still, her body is against mine, and my pussy is already throbbing with need. I grind my hips against hers, and she sucks in a sharp breath before taking my bottom lip between her teeth, biting just hard enough to cause pain but not hard enough to draw blood.
I whimper as she pulls back, and I catch Quentin’s gaze behind her. He watches us with an unreadable expression, but his posture is relaxed, and there’s an obvious erection tenting his pants.
“I’ve dreamed about this,” she murmurs, her lips brushing against my skin. “About you .”
“Me too. More than I care to admit.”
Something flashes in her eyes at that admission. She kisses me again, and this time, it’s deeper, slower, filled with all the words we can’t say.
When she pulls away, she stares at me with lust and longing before whispering, “I told you I was going to take this slow, and I’m sticking to that. But, I have an idea.”