Chapter 3
three
. . .
Vik
I slip the green bracelet onto my wrist as I exit the elevator. A signal I’m down for whatever with whomever. It’s my first time back since I returned from vacation, and I’m looking to have any kind of fun tonight. Bonus points if we have anything in common.
I’ve been a member for three years and still haven’t met anyone I’ve vibed with enough to want to meet outside of the club. Lilith’s isn’t the place to go looking for love, but it happens to be the perfect place to look for a temporary good time.
The elevator spits me out into a hallway with a few options. I choose to head to the bar rather than diving in, my desire for the evening to feel less rushed and more intimate leading me in that direction.
Sometimes I like to talk a little before we fuck. Flirting tends to be my favorite form of foreplay, and I’m really good at it.
“Heyyy, Vik,” a deep voice calls out.
I whip my head around to see one of the bodyguards, Ryan, wearing his usual bright smile. I’m not sure if a pleasant disposition is a prerequisite for the position, but if so, he’s the perfect man for the job.
“Good evening, Ryan. How’s the night been?” I ask, offering a grin of my own. I can’t help it when the man has damn near all of his pearly whites on display.
“It’s been chill so far, and everyone’s behaving. Lemme knock on wood though,” he chuckles before scanning the room, taking in the milling bodies. Then he looks me over and points to my wrist. “Ahh, green? Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
I’ve never seen Ryan play, but it takes one to know one in an establishment like this.
“Now you know that’s a broad scope,” I joke, curious but never taking it too far. “Have a good night.”
“You too, Vik,” he says to my backside as I walk away, towards the bar.
It isn’t too busy tonight, the low hum of conversation making the air feel alive.
A quick glance around the room tells me almost everyone is in pairs, and the rest don’t pique my interest enough.
I’m not so desperate that I have to abandon my preferences.
And there are a lot of them.
I’m about to order a drink when two people enter the bar area, passing Ryan on his way out. I recognize one as the owner, Lila. The consummate professional, I’ve never seen her play either.
But I’ve heard rumblings of how she likes to get down and good for her.
The woman beside her steals my attention from the moment I lay eyes on her. I caught a flash of her face, eyes wide as she takes everything in before she turns away again.
I can’t help but notice her curves in this vibrant crimson gown as she talks to Lila. She must be getting the infamous tour. That’s the only time Lila graces us with her company. Tours for newcomers and the annual Christmas party.
Newcomers feels like an odd way to refer to them in a sex club.
Fresh freaks, as we like to call them.
I grab a seat at a nearby table and observe her, hoping she turns around to show her face again.
Not that I’m not enjoying the view of her plump ass, because I am, but I’m curious about her.
I only got to see her for a moment, but it was enough that I haven’t stopped looking at her.
She isn’t dressed like someone who doesn’t wish to blend in.
And most importantly, what color is her bracelet?
Please don’t be wearing black.
An upbeat voice drags my attention away from the woman ahead.
“Would you like your usual, Vik?”
I glance over to find Teresa, the bartender, staring expectantly. The knowing look on her face says she knows exactly what I’ve got my eye on.
The fresh freak.
“Yes, please?”
Teresa brings me a glass of Chardonnay as Lila exits the room, and I watch as she takes a deep breath, her shoulders rising. She releases her breath seemingly slowly before turning to face my direction.
My god. She’s absolutely stunning.
She tugs her full bottom lip between her teeth, and I have to bite back a groan at my desire to do the same. Her gaze travels a moment before she settles on the bar. I watch her square her shoulders, and even in her nervousness, the sway of her hips speaks sensual words to me.
I don’t wish to overwhelm her, so I sit back and let her take the environment in. My eyes trail her generous frame as she nears the bar, catching on her wrist where an orange band rests.
Fuck yes.
Wait.
What if she’s not into women?
This part still makes me anxious whenever I meet someone new, even in a setting such as this one. I’m not afraid to admit that I’m bi, but I could do without the usual rolled eyes and judgments about it. As a femme, I’m always told that I look too straight to be bisexual.
What does that even mean?
We all use our appearance to express ourselves in any way that feels right to us. My way often includes a full face of makeup, long hair, and a dress that shows off the figure I’ve worked so hard for.
I may not look bi enough, but I’ve never had a woman tell me to put my clothes back on after I dropped them.
So, I think whatever I’ve been doing has worked just fine for me.
We don’t exactly wear a ‘I’m queer and down to play’ sign on our heads, and I’m sure if I added that to the suggestion box, Lila would kill me.
I mull over my approach because I’m aware that my personality can be a bit much, and the last thing I want to do is scare her off, but there’s no way she can sit unnoticed in this bar.
Shit, it won’t be long before the vultures start to swarm. Fresh freaks are like virgins around here, and everyone is eager to ‘pop a cherry.’ Especially the men and the cougars, who move incredibly fast, living up to their nickname.
She hides behind a drink menu, her long acrylics catch my eye, and I stop myself before I let my thoughts get the better of me.
I decide to introduce myself before someone steals her away. I’d rather ask than make assumptions, so the plan is simple.
Learn her name and find out what’s brought her to Lilith’s.
Anything beyond that is just me going with the flow. I chose a green bracelet for a reason and I psyching myself out isn’t in my nature.
Rather than wait for the right moment, as I typically try to do, I figure it’s time for me to take a page out of the cougars’ book. A little audacity might make this my lucky evening.
She’s just ordered when I stand and straighten the skirt of my black dress. The corset fits tighter than anything else in my closet, pushing my breasts up and out to anyone interested in stealing a glance.
What can I say? I like to make it easier for my prey. Hopefully, she appreciates the effort.
Either way, we’re about to find out.