Chapter 10 #2
I looked at Casper, and he confirmed with a small nod. “The Seekers Club is a private, safe space for people in the kink lifestyle. Or, in other words, perverts, degenerates…”
“Lonely people?” I added.
“Yes. Those too.” His eyes flickered over me. “If that bothers you…”
“Do you have a pen?”
He plucked a pen from behind the bar and handed it over.
I glanced over the documents and signed my name in the required spots.
I could feel Casper’s eyes on me. I was very aware that I was wearing nothing but a skin-tight dress that hugged my form in indecent ways and came to a very quick stop at the top of my thighs.
I tilted my hips, pretending to get more comfortable.
In my periphery, I could see his head cock with the movement.
I bit back a grin. I guess my silver fox has become a wolf.
With a flourish of the pen, I remarked, “Done.”
I pushed the paperwork over. Casper quickly removed his eyes from my ass to take the clipboard. I smiled innocently. “Are you going to give me the tour?”
There was a bowl of fruit at the end of the bar. He picked up a clementine, skinning it. The tiny fruit never stood a chance in his large grip.
He jutted his chin forward. “This way.”
I followed as he led me through the lounge. We skirted around the group from earlier, who were chatting amicably.
“Welcome to the Seekers Club,” Casper said. “Invite only. A haven for kinky and curious people. This space is where people meet. Mingle. A few refreshments here, but…it’s mostly for people to talk and negotiate.”
I noticed Carver among the group of people. He shot me a wink, which made me smile. I could feel their gazes lingering on me, sizing me up. Was it because I was new…or because I was with him?
“And you run this place?”
“I do.” He started up the stairs, and I trailed behind. “Don’t use my name, by the way. They call me Phantom here. This is a place for people to shake off who they are during the day. The mask is important.”
“Phantom. Got it.”
The second floor opened to a wide studio space.
There was brick on the back wall with mirror in some sections.
Ropes suspended from the ceiling. Large benches and devious devices.
I watched a woman bound to an X-structure, completely naked.
She cried out as a second woman tortured and tugged on her nipples.
Electricity danced over my skin.
Oh. I like this place.
“This floor is for play,” Casper—sorry, Phantom—explained.
“They play rough.”
“They do. BDSM. Bondage, dominance, sadism, masochism. Among others kinks.”
We walked past a woman strapped to a bench. Her ass was bright pink. A man flipped a paddle in his palm and stalked around her, lion-like. Curiosity whipped through me.
“This way.”
Phantom’s voice pulled me back. I looked away from the scene unfolding in front of me and followed him instead.
He led me up another staircase to a landing with multiple doors.
Here, Phantom stopped. He turned to me. “This floor is for people who want to engage with each other sexually.” He pointed to one door, then the other.
“Players. Viewers.” He opened the “Viewers” door and then motioned for me to walk through. “After you.”
Those penetrating eyes stared at me.
Was this a test? Was he wondering if I’d chicken out?
I called his bluff and walk through the door. As I brushed past him, I inhaled his clean, fresh-out-of-the-shower scent.
The room was narrow, like a hallway. Through a tinted glass wall, I could see the room beside ours.
The “players” room. It was a dark bedroom, and it took me a moment to see the figures.
Two men, joined together. They were fucking, roughly.
With a longing that made my heart pick up pace.
Wait, no, not two. Three. Bodies joining, undulating together. Kissing. Moaning.
Maybe I should’ve felt guilty watching them in such an intimate moment, but I didn’t. I could only feel excitement buzzing in my chest. And longing.
I want to be wanted that intensely.
Phantom impaled his fingers through the heart of the clementine, cleaving it into two halves. Juice squirted up around his cuticles. He broke a piece of clementine off and popped it into his mouth, like popcorn at a movie theater. He seemed unaffected by the people fucking just feet away from us.
I guess I would be, too, if I owned this place. This was a normal Friday night for him.
“Can they see us?” I asked.
“No.”
“Can they hear us?”
“No.”
I bit my lip, entranced. When I looked at Phantom again, I discovered he wasn’t watching the group. He was watching me, watching them.
An edge of hunger in those hazel eyes.
For the first time since arriving, I blushed.
He shook it off with a tilt of his head. “Let’s go back downstairs.”
We exited the voyeur-room. We wound through the spanking and screaming. Back downstairs, to the first floor, where things were quiet and mellow again.
He led me through the adjoining room; a library stacked with books. We went to an open door at the back, and he knocked his knuckles against the door to announce his presence.
I snuck in beside him. The walls of this room were a dark, emerald green and the floors were covered in pillows and blankets. People were cuddling on the blankets, wrapped up in each other.
“Hey,” Phantom said, a low growl in his voice.
A couple on the floor gasped and scrambled to sit up. One wore a dog collar, the other wore pigtails.
“Are you having too much fun in here?” Phantom asked. I recognized the roughness in his voice then; it was playful, teasingly chastising.
“No, Sir…” The dog-collared person giggled and the pair squirmed like kids caught whispering together at a sleepover.
A woman sat in one of the leather chairs with the stance of someone in charge. She looked amused by the exchange. Phantom nodded to her. “Mind if I give them a snack?” She shook her head. He peeled off bits of clementine. “Catch.”
He tossed the slices at the pair on the blankets who caught their treats and thanked him.
On the other side of the room, I spotted a woman lounging in a man’s lap. They were both half-naked and he stroked her hair back. Phantom went over and crouched beside them. He dropped his voice. “How’re you two doing?”
The man gave him a dreamy smile, like he’d woken from a nap. “Good,” he said.
“Good.” Phantom motioned to the woman. His hand hovered an inch over her body, but never touched her. “Her skin is already bruising here. It’s just going to get worse overnight. I have a cream that will help with that. Remind me to give you some before you leave.”
“Okay. Thank you, Sir.”
Phantom gave the man’s shoulder a squeeze. “I hope you come back.”
“We will,” the woman said. She was wearing that same, dreamy-eyed expression.
Phantom had to put his hand on the dresser to push himself back up to his feet. There was that light wince again. He exited the room and motioned for me to do the same.
The giggly-pair watched me leave. “Who is she?” one whispered to the other.
I wiggled my fingers at them in a wave. Caught, they broke into a fit of giggles. I couldn’t help but grin as I exited, their humor contagious. This room felt soft, sacred, and I didn’t want to leave it.
Phantom led me to the lobby, back where we started. He leaned his elbows on the bar. I couldn’t help but fixate on his arms. They were strong with defined veins that corded up the backs of his arms.
“There you have it,” he said. “The tour. Any questions?”
“So can people do…anything here?”
“Within reason. The rule of thumb is safe, sane, and consensual. Nothing illegal. No drugs or alcohol while playing. I reserve the right to kick anyone out if I don’t like their attitude or the way they play.
Toxicity is like mold. You let it stick around too long, you’ll never get it out.
So I cut people out before they become a problem. ”
“What about me? Am I a problem?”
His gaze met mine, as though seriously considering my question. “I don’t know yet.”
The charge in his eyes…it made me want to get closer. I shifted in. I nodded at the fruit between his hands. “What’s with the clementine?”
“Do you ever go to outdoor concerts? The ones way out in the middle of nowhere…Burning Man? They’ll stock a lot of Vitamin C.
When people are high, excited, and having fun, they’ll forget to do things like eat, drink, take care of themselves.
The act of playing—that’s what we call what people were doing upstairs.
Playing. It can sometimes be as intense as getting high.
You have adrenaline rushing through you.
Pleasure. Pain. It lights up parts of your brain you don’t use every day.
So if you’re feeling a dopamine crash after a scene… vitamin C helps.”
“What about you?” I asked. “Do you play? Or do you just…force feed everyone citrus?”
He looked contemplative, and instead of answering my question, he volleyed me one. “What do you want, Ruby?”