Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
ASPEN
“Y ou can stare all day, Aspen, but you still won’t magically know if it’s the right thing to wear to a sex club,” I muttered to myself.
Three pairs of pants lay strewn across my bed, cast aside next to a handful of dresses and skirts. I studied each of them like they’d jump up as the right choice while overthinking consumed me.
If I wore pants, would I look like a prude, closed off to…to…whatever they did there?
If I wore a skirt, would people take it as an open invitation for easy access?
Would they notice me at all?
What if they did notice me?
I was there to observe, but what if something more than observing happened? Then I’d want the skirt.
Not that I expected anything to happen. I was going as Lucian’s guest.
Oh, god. What if Lucian expected something to happen?
I should wear pants to affirm nothing would happen between us.
Unless…I wasn’t allowed to wear clothes at all.
Did people wear clothes in sex clubs or was it some kind of nudist colony?
Jesus.
I shook my head, derailing the endless flow of panicked thoughts and latched on to what I knew.
Lucian explained their cocktail style dress code.
They definitely wore clothes. Yes.
I rubbed my temples and groaned. What had Lucian gotten me into?
Taking a deep breath, I snatched the first item of clothing off my bed and held it up to my chest.
The bedroom lights shined against the sequin dress and reflected sparkles around the room. Like a beacon, begging for attention.
I eyed my phone on the dresser and considered messaging him that something— anything —came up, and I couldn’t go.
But then I remembered his length pressed against me.
I remembered his moan against my back.
I remembered the thrill of excitement that shot from his hands shackled around my wrists to my core.
I remembered the curiosity that still lingered.
I remembered his words promising me I wasn’t broken.
I remembered the way the promise soothed the jagged edge of my anger, leaving room for questions to break through.
I remembered him using the word us when he mentioned enjoying different pleasures. It made me feel less alone. It made me feel like maybe something wasn’t wrong with me.
I remembered his assurances that experiencing this club would allow me an opportunity to understand my reaction to him spanking me.
I remembered his promise that I’d be able to let go and learn without judgment—that maybe I’d learn other ways to release the pressure I kept such a tight hold of.
No, I couldn’t cancel.
I needed to go. Even if I did walk into some nudist colony. I’d just hope they had modesty underwear and pasties for a newbie.
A manic laugh bubbled free, imagining the scenario—my face when we walked in, and they asked for my clothes. A dark room with whips and cries of pleasure. I imagined it all until the laugh broke off as fast as it came. I sucked in a quick breath at the thought of seeing Lucian’s body completely bare. Waves of sensations I didn’t want to explain cascaded down my spine.
My phone vibrated, saving me from my useless inner turmoil.
Mr. D the curtains tied back, offering the perfect view of the couple.
A view of a woman sitting on a man’s lap, her hands splayed wide on the table for support while she bounced up and down.
A view of a man with his hand fisting the woman’s hair, pulling her head back so he could suck at her neck.
A view of a woman with her mouth opened wide in pleasure.
A view of a man pulling her dress aside so he could play with her nipple.
And if I looked very closely, a view of another man on the other side of the booth, hidden behind the curtain. Only showing his legs spread wide, making room for his fist to stroke his cock.
“Not quite what you expected?”
I jerked, not expecting his dark voice so close to my ear—not expecting to like it. I blinked, attempting to refocus my attention on the room. “No, it—it’s not. Although, I didn’t really know what to expect,” I defended, not wanting to admit how easily he read my reaction.
“Hmmm.”
I risked a glance in his direction, wanting to understand his quiet hum, but found him like me—studying the room beyond.
“How about a drink?” he asked.
“A drink sounds perfect.” Perfect was an understatement. In less than ten minutes, I’d run through the entirety of the emotion wheel.
With his hand to the small of my back, he guided me down the stairs toward the bar at the end of the room, bypassing tables on either side. At first, I assumed they held people laughing, talking, and drinking like any other restaurant.
I assumed wrong.
While I did find many people in their cocktail attire carrying on conversations with a drink in hand, I also found them in various levels of undress. Some even had a collar with a leash connecting them to their companion. Some had only a collar.
One table in particular held me entranced.
A stunning woman in a simple black dress sat with an older man. At first glance, they appeared to be enjoying a normal conversation over drinks. She held a glass of wine and laughed at something he said. However, she also had her leg propped over the shoulder of a muscular man kneeling on the floor, digging her heel into his back while he buried his head between her thighs.
The older man beside her kept talking as if he didn’t notice her getting eaten out. Probably because most of his attention was given to the young man, clad only in a pair of small satin boxers, curled up on the floor with his head resting on the older man’s thigh while he ran his fingers through his hair.
Other scenes played around them, but I couldn’t look away from this one. The one where the woman and the older man were the dominants and the younger, muscular men were the submissives. If I saw either of them on the street with their rippling muscles and large builds, I’d never guess them to be submissive. The blatant opposition to typical stereotypes fascinated me.
“Surprised?” Lucian asked.
“Maybe,” I admitted reluctantly.
His accuracy in reading my thoughts through my reactions I usually kept hidden unnerved me, and I hesitated to reveal more than I already had. Also, I didn’t want to admit how much stock I placed in the negative stereotype—assuming only macho men dominated women and expected them to be submissive to their misogynistic alpha beliefs. Honestly, I didn’t realize how much I did believe in those stereotypes until I saw the juxtaposition to them in front of me and felt the surprise.
He huffed a laugh but let me get away with avoiding the truth. “A glass of Cabernet? Stag’s Leap?” he asked once we stood at the bar.
My gaze shot to his. “How did you know?”
“You’ve ordered it at the few dinner meetings we’ve attended.”
He turned away to order two glasses, leaving me to soak up that tidbit of information. I wasn’t even sure my father knew my favorite kind of wine—let alone the brand. He passed me my glass, and I immediately took a sip, buying time to process the unfamiliar warm goo spreading through my chest. Not that it mattered because, in the next instant, a familiar voice called his name, sending the sip down the wrong pipe.
A bubbly, smiling Emily bound over just in time to witness my coughing fit. And it only got worse when she slid against Lucian’s side, wrapping her arm around his waist like she belonged there. “Oh, shit. Miss Quinn. Hey. Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“No worries, Miss Green,” I managed once the coughing stopped.
She waved away my comment, with the hand not clutching Lucian. “Call me, Emily.”
“Of course. And you can call me Aspen. Since we’re not at work.” I tried to mimic her casual response, but the words tasted like hot ash singeing my tongue. Probably created from the fiery concoction of emotion burning away the warm goo from seconds ago.
“I offered to show Aspen the club, so she is my guest tonight,” Lucian explained, looking just as comfortable as Emily with his hand resting at her waist.
Something churned through my stomach, pinching and pulling at my insides. I wanted to call it shock. I wanted to blame fear that she’d tell someone she saw me here. I wanted to find something familiar, but I couldn’t remember feeling so nauseous and hot and frozen and angry and...
I shook my head, deciding that not thinking about it was a better choice.
Instead, I focused on the realization of why they were so familiar with each other at the office.
Emily was a member at The Berkshire.
She lived the same life as Lucian.
While I stood stiffly, clutching my drink, casting glances around the room, she stood relaxed and unaffected by the various acts.
Had she performed any of them with Lucian? Were she and Lucian a couple? Was he her dominant? Her boyfriend? Were they in some kind of open relationship? Was I the one intruding in this situation?
Had he cheated on her when he’d been with me?
Not that he’d been with me. He’d just spanked me a couple times. Technically, that’s not sexual at all.
Then why did you come?
I don’t fucking know, I snapped at the question rattling in my head. That was the whole point of coming to this club in the first place.
But he’d also been hard that day in the office, groaning against my back.
My favorite wine turned sour and swirled with the internal raging back and forth, threatening to come back up.
“Well, that’s exciting. Welcome to The Berkshire, my home away from home,” she exclaimed, confirming at least one of my suspicions before turning to Lucian, hoping to confirm another. “I’m glad you’re here tonight. I was hoping that maybe we could get a private room later…or a public one, Sir.”
Dread coated me from head to toe with a prickling numbness. Sir. I read about that on the websites. Emily must be a submissive. But did that mean that Lucian was her dominant? Oh, god.
“I appreciate the offer, Emily, but as this is Aspen’s first time here, I’d like to give her my attention.”
If I hadn’t been consumed by trying to decipher their relationship by watching their every reaction, I would have missed the quick flit of hurt that dimmed Emily’s blue eyes to a dull gray.
Another confirmation: she cared for Lucian.
However, with how quick she masked her emotions; she didn’t want him to know how much.
With a playful smile back in place, she threw out another option. “Well, then, maybe we could all play together.” Emily turned her attention to me, openly checking me out from head-to-toe. “I have always found you absolutely stunning and would love the opportunity to play with you.”
I put so much energy into controlling my shock that it left room for other emotions to take over. Ones that I never saw coming. Like flattery and blushing.
I was going fucking insane.
There had to have been something in my drink that made me lose my mind. Like the Lotus Eaters in the Odyssey . There was something in my drink that made me forget every sane thought and be flattered by a woman I was jealous of.
I mean…not that I was jealous of her for having been with Lucian, but jealous of her comfort. Or…or…something like that.
Fucking fuck.
I looked down the aisle, past the stairs, and back up at the door, wondering if I should run now before I completely lost my mind.
“Aspen is here for observation tonight,” Lucian explained, pulling me back to reality.
Observation, I reminded myself. I wasn’t there to partake. I wasn’t there for anyone to lure me into playing. I wasn’t there to care if Lucian fucked every man and woman in this club.
I was there to observe and hopefully understand what the hell happened to me when Lucian Daire spanked me.
“Speaking of…I’m going to show her around,” he stated.
Pain flared in Emily’s eyes at his clear dismissal, and again, she quickly shoved it away with a smile. “Of course.”
“Thank you for the offer, though,” I added before she turned away. An irrational part of me couldn’t wait to watch her walk away while the familiar part of me that I clung to in this whirlwind needed to soothe a woman hurt by a man.
With a quick wink, she headed off, leaving Lucian and me alone.
He looked just as confident as before she arrived while my insides twisted and swayed, leaving me more unsteady.
“Shall we?”
I stole one last glance toward the exit before turning back and infusing a mythical confidence in my answer. “Sure.”
Again, as if we didn’t verbally battle most days of the week, he pressed his hand to my back and guided me away from the main room with soft jazz, leading me toward a hallway of unknowns.