FOURTEEN
Charlotte
Excitement buzzed in my system all day, but it ramped up significantly when it came time to get ready for my evening with Noah. I twirled my long, color-treated locks of blonde hair around the barrel of my curling iron, studying my reflection in the mirror. Shit, I’d need to go easy on the blush and contouring tonight. I was already flushed, and it had nothing to do with the heat the iron was putting out.
I was going to a sex club tonight.
The thought played in a constant loop in my brain.
Once I’d finished my hair and makeup, I pulled on a black leather mini skirt and paired it with a maroon top. The shirt was satin and cut low enough in the front that I considered taping it in place, but ultimately decided against it. I didn’t mind if the edge of my bra showed occasionally. In fact, I kind of liked the idea.
It was like a sexy little hint.
My overnight bag was already packed, which had taken me a lot longer to finish than I’d expected. Noah had told me it’d be late when we left the club, so I could stay in his guest bedroom tonight.
I packed options with varying degrees of sexiness, just in case he changed his mind about which bed he wanted me to occupy. He probably wouldn’t though. My no-sex rule was still in place, and we might find sharing a bed too tempting and torturous.
After I’d zipped up my high-heeled boots, I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my closet and snapped a selfie. I messed with the settings until I had the color grading where I wanted it, and then laughed at myself. The pic was cute enough, but I wasn’t planning on posting it to my socials. I’d edited it simply out of habit.
Me: Is this outfit okay for tonight?
I followed my message up with the picture, then set my phone aside as I awaited Noah’s response, although I was confident I’d get his approval. He’d said the club had a dress code, but also that it only applied to men. Women could wear whatever they wanted—and as little as they wanted.
This outfit was bringing my A game.
It pushed the line for me, and was the kind of look that’d make my dad frown—but he wouldn’t dare say anything about it. I wasn’t much younger than his client Stella, and this was exactly what she’d wear on a night out.
I knew, because I’d talked to her stylist last year and bought some of the same pieces.
By sending the selfie, I’d spoiled the reveal for Noah, but I figured this was a good trade-off. Now he had a picture of me in his phone. Sure, he could watch my YouTube channel or my TikTok videos anytime he wanted, but this was different. This image was only for him.
Noah: Yeah, looks good.
It wasn’t the resounding answer I was looking for, but I could live with it.
Me: Thanks. I’m heading your way.
Noah: See you soon.
I grabbed my purse and my overnight bag and made my way downstairs.
My father didn’t seem to be home, and I nearly escaped the house unnoticed, but my timing sucked. Just as I opened the door to the garage, my mom rounded the corner from the kitchen.
Her gaze swept over my outfit and noted the overnight bag, and her tone was curious. “Where are you heading off to?”
Shit. I’d promised not to lie, but there was no avoiding it. “Uh... Sasha’s.”
She looked dubious. “You’re wearing that to Sasha’s?”
“We’re going out, and I’m going to crash at her place after.”
Her doubt cleared. “Oh. Okay, stay safe and have fun.”
“Will do.” The words were sticky in my throat and came out garbled. “Love you.”
“I love you, too.”
During the drive over to Noah’s house, I constantly had to remind myself not to speed. My anxiousness to see him and my curiosity about the club combined to give me a lead foot. When I finally reached his place, I parked to the side in his driveway, out of the way, clasped my bag, and scurried up the front walkway.
I didn’t get a chance to ring the doorbell, because he must have seen me coming and was waiting for me just inside the open front door.
“Holy fuck,” I blurted. “You’re wearing a suit.”
His pleasant smile froze. “Is that bad?”
He glanced down at his charcoal gray suit and maroon tie, searching for what was wrong. Oh, my God. When I’d texted him the picture of what I was wearing tonight, had he chosen his tie to match? We looked like we’d planned it.
Like we were a couple.
“No, it’s not bad,” I said, and pretended to be irritated. “I just wasn’t expecting you to look so freaking hot.”
He laughed and adopted the same annoyed tone I’d used. “It’s only fair. I have to deal with,” he gestured to my outfit, “all this .”
His gaze filled with heat, telling me just how much he liked what he saw, and warmth swept through me. This was the reaction I’d hoped for earlier, but getting it in person was way better than through a text message.
When I climbed the two steps of his front porch, he reached out and took my bag from me like a gentleman and motioned for me to go inside. I did and lingered awkwardly in the entryway. I hadn’t prepared myself for how strange it’d feel.
Tonight, he wasn’t my client.
Instead, he’d be my guide.
“You want something to drink?” he asked as he moved through the entryway and headed toward the guest bedroom. He raised his voice so I could still hear him while he was out of sight. “You might have to drink it fast, though. I already called for a Lyft.”
“No, thanks. I’m okay.” It was surprising he’d booked a car, because it was just after nine and the sun hadn’t set all that long ago. I figured this club would be like any other and didn’t get busy until late. “Do we need to get there soon?”
He reappeared and glanced at his phone screen. “Kind of. I was hoping to have some time to show you around before the show starts.”
My breath quickened. “There’s a show?”
“Calling it a show might be the wrong word. It’s more like... a demonstration.”
I swallowed hard and my voice fell to a hush. “A sexy demonstration?”
“Yes.”
The cavernous space of his entryway became cozy and intimate when he came closer, and even he seemed to notice. His irises darkened with something that looked a hell of a lot like lust.
“It’s hard to be friends with you,” I uttered, “when you look at me like that.”
Noah drew in a deep breath and didn’t look away. A war was going on inside him between what he should do and what he wanted to do, and it seemed like desire was winning out.
“Sorry,” he said, although he didn’t sound sorry at all.
But then he broke the gaze, turning his focus to the small purse that dangled from my elbow. The bag didn’t hold anything more than my phone and a tube of lipstick, but I had nowhere else to put them.
His gaze rose back to my face. “I know this will probably be a challenge for you,” a slight smile tilted his lips, “since you’re a ‘permanently online’ person, but you’re not allowed to use your phone inside Club Eros.”
“I can’t have my phone?” I tried not to screech it, because he’d sort of just asked me to amputate a part of my body.
“You can have it,” he clarified, “you just can’t use it. If they catch you with it out, they’ll ask us to leave, and neither of us will be welcome back.”
“Oh.”
“It’s a safety thing. They don’t want people taking pictures or video.”
I nodded. “That makes sense.”
The weight of my handbag seemed to quadruple when I realized it was no longer needed. I must have made a face, because he shot me a questioning look.
“I’m trying to decide if I should even bother taking this, then.” I raised my elbow, jostling the little purse. “All it does is hold my phone since I don’t have any pockets.”
“I have pockets,” he said. “You want me to hang on to it for you?”
I dug out my phone, but hesitated. “You don’t mind?”
“No.” He chuckled and plucked it from my hand. “I think I can manage.”
I watched as he opened his suit coat and slipped my phone into the interior pocket, and the idea of it was exciting . The small device was such a big part of my life. It was an extension of me, so to know it was nestled inside his jacket, next to his heart, was deeply satisfying.
When I set my no-longer-needed purse on his entryway table, movement drew my gaze out through the front window. A black sedan turned into the driveway.
“Is that—”
“Our ride?” he said. “Yeah. You ready?”
Shit, I was more than ready.
We didn’t talk about the club in front of our driver, like it was some secret we needed to keep, which was sort of ridiculous. The guy knew where we were going—he had the address.
But . . . did he?
Because when we got there, I didn’t see anything that looked remotely like a club. We weren’t in the best part of town, and the street was dark. All the buildings around here looked like they were commercial, and most of them had gone out of business during the pandemic.
I got out of the car when Noah did, but I stood on the sidewalk in disbelief. “You sure this is the right place?”
It was a stupid question, since he’d been here before, but he didn’t make me feel dumb. His laugh was light and casual. “Yeah. I know it’s not much to look at from the outside, but I think that’s kind of the point.”
He gestured to the concrete walkway that was off the sidewalk, leading up to...
Oh.
There was a house nestled between two large warehouses, complete with a covered front porch. In another neighborhood, it would have looked cute, but here it was so out of place. It looked old, too, like it had existed long before the industrial buildings that grew up around it.
The windows were dark, most likely blacked out, making the place look empty.
But there was a large chrome E that was backlit, glowing in the night beside the unremarkable front door.
My pulse hurried along as I traveled the pathway and up the two porch steps with Noah at my side. He reached the door first and pulled it open for me.
The entry room was small, only large enough to hold a few people. The walls and ceiling were painted black, and the lighting in the room was low, nearly matching the darkness outside. There was a security guard waiting beside the door that led deeper into the club, and along the side wall was an elegant, shaded lamp and a tall desk. A woman was seated behind it, and she gave us a once-over, followed by a friendly smile. “IDs, please.”
“I need my phone,” I said to Noah. “My license is in the case.”
He handed it to me, and while I fished my driver’s license out of the slot on my case, he extracted his from his wallet and passed it to the woman. Once she’d finished scanning our licenses, she gave me a clipboard and pen.
“Membership form is the first sheet, the waiver is beneath.”
She didn’t have one for him, though.
Because he’s already a member.
While I filled the forms out, Noah paid, and then the woman gave us a quick rundown of the rules. No phones, no going in the bathrooms opposite of our gender identities, and no harassment of any kind. If there were problems, staff wore gold nametags and were always nearby.
When we were all set, she nodded to the security guard, gave us a smile, and pushed a button beneath the desk. “Have fun.”
The door buzzed and the security guard pulled it open for us. I kind of expected it to be like the scene in The Wizard of Oz where Dorothy is in black and white and when she opens the front door, everything changes to vibrant color.
It wasn’t like that at all.
The inside of Club Eros looked... like any other club. There was a bar and a dance floor, and the lighting was dark and moody. A DJ booth was in the far corner, playing music with heavy bass and spinning a disco ball that cast glittering reflections everywhere.
There were more people than I expected, but hardly any on the dance floor. Most of them sat at the bar or the low tables scattered around the room, sipping drinks and holding conversations over the loud music. There were only a few couches and zero beds.
I put a hand on Noah’s shoulder and rose on my tiptoes to speak into his ear. “It’s just a bar?”
I hadn’t meant to sound disappointed, but he’d picked up on it. He looked sort of amused and devious. “This room is, yeah.” He motioned toward the bartender. “You want something to drink?”
“Sure. I’ll have a cosmo.”
I stuck close by his side as we strolled to the bar, but my gaze wandered around the room while he ordered for us. The outfits people wore were... diverse. At one table it’d be nice dresses and suits, and at the next it’d be pleather and latex. And it was odd how the tables were exclusively couples or groups, yet the bar was only men.
I kept my voice as low as possible over the music. “Are dudes only allowed to sit at the bar?”
He nodded. “Single men have to be invited anywhere else inside the club.”
Oh, wow. “So, if I wasn’t here, you’d...”
“Be sitting on one of those bar stools? Yup.” Our drinks arrived, he tossed down his credit card, and then passed the martini glass to me. A smirk teased his lips. “Turns out your favor is doing me a favor.”
I returned his smug smile. “Happy to help you out.”
After he settled up, he pointed to the door on the far side of the room. “Ready to see the rest of this place?”
I took a sip of my drink so it wasn’t so full, and nodded. “Lead the way.”
We weaved through the tables, passed by the dance floor, and strode through the open doorway. It was quieter here and more elegant too. The first room was a nightclub, but this one was a swanky lounge. There were velvet couches and oversized leather chairs, with low tables between them.
I only made it a few steps past the threshold before jerking to a stop. My drink sloshed over the rim of the glass, and the icy liquid dripped down my fingers.
An older man sat in one of the chairs, with his pants down around his ankles and a fistful of hair of the woman who was on her knees, currently blowing him. She bobbed her head, coating his dick with her saliva.
I blinked rapidly, maybe trying to clear the vision from my eyes. It wasn’t that I was turned off by what I saw—it was just so shocking. Blood rushed through me, heating my body, filling it with a sensation that felt oddly like secondhand shame. Because it was so public , and I’d spent a long time believing that sort of thing should only happen behind closed doors.
At first, I couldn’t look away. I stood utterly still, locked on to the woman’s every movement. It was almost mesmerizing how she surged up and down and let his hold on her hair guide her pace. I felt the man staring at me, and I held my breath tensely in my lungs.
Watching Noah when he’d been with Shannon had made me uncomfortable, but only because it’d been so insanely hot, I hadn’t known how to handle it. This? Watching these strangers? It only had a fraction of that heat. I felt uncomfortable in a different way, as if I’d intruded.
I ripped my gaze away, wheeling it around to look anywhere else, until it landed on Noah. His expression was... curious. Like he wanted to know what I was thinking.
“I’m trying not to stare,” I whispered.
“Why?” He asked it so casually. “They want people to watch. If they didn’t, they’d be in one of the private rooms.”
“Private rooms?”
It was only then I noticed the rest of the space, beyond the woman going down on the man who continued to stare at us. The wall opposite the doorway we’d come through was lined with black doors, which were decorated with brass numbers, and all were ajar.
He followed my gaze. “Looks like no one’s using them right now.” He took a sip of his Manhattan, and then used his glass to point to the archway on the right. “We’re heading that way.”
I peeked into one of the private rooms along the way, finding it kind of underwhelming. All that was inside was a full-size couch and a love seat that had been arranged like a sectional in the narrow space.
Beyond the archway, there was an old, ornate staircase that turned the corner as it traveled upward. It was stunning and must have been original to the house but looked like a bitch to clean with all the woodwork. Just off the base of the stairs, there was another black door that hung open—although this one didn’t have a brass number on it.
That wasn’t the only thing telling me this room was different. The walls were painted a deep red, and the hairs at the base of my neck tingled with awareness. The doorway was at the end of the room, so I couldn’t see much of the inside, but when I started to go in, Noah’s hand went out to stop me.
“Not yet,” he said. “Let’s go upstairs first.”
It made me wonder if whatever was in that room was the grand finale.
The staircase creaked and groaned as we climbed it, and then we were on the second floor, which was a bit of a maze and totally deserted. These had once been the bedrooms of the house, but the doorways had been widened to make it easier to move around. The flow of it still wasn’t great, but I kind of liked that.
There were more quiet corners and alcoves this way.
The lounge atmosphere continued up here, but this one was cozier, with exposed brick walls and a fireplace—although this one looked like it was no longer functional. The most dramatic difference was that the side tables up here weren’t empty. They had large dishes on them, like the ones you’d see filled with candy, only these shiny wrappers didn’t contain treats.
“Is that a giant bowl of condoms?” I hadn’t meant to giggle, but I couldn’t help myself. There were bottles of lube next to the dish too. “This shit is wild.”
He chuckled. “They want their guests to stay safe and have a good time.” He was quiet for a moment, letting me take it all in. “This floor is the only part of the club where men are allowed to get naked.”
I scrunched my face with confusion. “What about women?”
“They can get naked anywhere.” He must have realized he needed to amend it. “As long as they’re inside the club.”
“Isn’t that—I don’t know, sexist?”
He shrugged. “If it is, I’m okay with it. It’s safer this way, and... men are pervs. I’m glad I’m not seeing dicks the second I walk through the door.”
Oh, my God. A grin spread across my face. “You’re not wrong.” My grin stilled as I remembered what he’d said. “Wait a minute. The guy downstairs was getting a blowjob.”
“He was.” Noah took another sip of his drink. “Maybe he forgot, but I’m guessing he knows he’s breaking the rules. Some people like getting caught.”
“What’ll happen to him?”
“He’ll get thrown out, and his membership revoked.” He ticked his head toward the stairs, indicating he wanted to head back down. “Places like this have zero tolerance for rule breakers.”
I walked beside him, having to move at a faster pace than normal because his strides were longer. “Places,” I repeated. “You’ve been to others?”
“Yeah. There was a club in New York I went to often enough I became friends with the owners.”
“Friends like us?” I asked as we descended.
He found my question amusing. “No. Claire and Enrique are in their late sixties, and they’re heavy into masochism. That’s not one of my kinks.”
My breath caught. Well, now I needed to know what all his kinks were. I was dying to find out because... what if his aligned with mine? What if he could show me things I didn’t even know I was into?
I wanted to learn them with him.
But I didn’t get a chance to ask any of that, because I followed him into the red room, and my brain short-circuited.