19 - HEADFIRST
Lacey
The dangerous dress was lace over a silk lining, sleeveless, fitted through the bodice and then flaring into an A-line skirt that ended well above the knee. The dress had hung in my closet never worn, waiting for an occasion I kept failing to create.
Tonight was that occasion.
I had my hair done that afternoon. Loose waves, more volume than usual, the stylist talking me into a deep side part and a few pieces framing my face that I'd resisted and then loved.
Makeup: mascara, a smoky eye, red lipstick I wiped off twice before deciding to own it and put it back on.
The dress hugged my waist, dipped low in the back, and the neckline showed just enough collarbone and the upper swell of my breasts to make me pause at the mirror longer than I'd planned.
I looked sexy.
My heart skipped once, hard.
I looked available. My nipples tightened against the silk. I turned slowly, watching the skirt flare and settle, the fabric whispering against my thighs.
A man would want to take this dress off me.
I blushed. The men who'd shaped my life would have been appalled by how I looked right now. Wanton. Ready.
I loved it.
The doorbell rang.
I grabbed my clutch, slipped on low black heels, and opened the door.
Janice stood on the porch in a crimson halter dress, grinning.
"Look at you." Her eyes swept me head to toe, slow and appreciative. "Jesus, Lacey. You look like sin." I saw her pupils dilate.
I laughed, surprised and nervous at once. "Too much?"
"Exactly enough." She grabbed my arm and tugged me outside. "Come on. I'm driving. You're drinking. That was the deal."
We walked to the Jeep. Janice opened the passenger door for me like an old-fashioned date. I slid in, smoothed the skirt over my thighs, and waited for her to come around. She started the engine and pulled out of the driveway.
I let her get to the end of the block before I said it.
"Here's the deal." My hands were folded in my lap, the knuckles paler than I'd have liked.
"I'm not doing the careful thing tonight.
Last time I went in trying to manage everything, and I ended up running out.
So tonight I'm not saying no on principle.
If I want something I'm going to ask for it, or take it, or let it happen. "
Janice glanced at me. She let half a block go by.
"That's a lot of words for a woman whose knuckles are white right now."
I looked down. They were. I unfolded my hands.
"Sixty percent."
"What?"
"I'm sixty percent a new woman. Forty percent still the one I was last time." I exhaled.
She nodded slowly, eyes back on the road. "Sixty is movement. I'll take sixty."
The car was quiet for a minute. Streetlights flicked on, gold pools spreading across the pavement.
After a beat she added, "And while we're on Ricardo. I should tell you something."
"What?"
"He's been asking about you."
I turned in the seat. "Asking what?"
"Whether you were coming tonight. Whether you were okay after last time.
Whether you said anything about him." She kept her eyes on the road.
"I told him you were fine. He looked relieved.
Then I told him you were probably coming, and he looked—" She paused on it.
"Like a man who'd just spotted a thing he wanted. That's my read, not the word he'd use."
That lit something.
"I told you he was into the innocence thing," Janice said. "What I didn't clock until this last conversation is that a woman who almost let him and then stopped him is even more desirable than a woman who just let him. He's been thinking about you, Lacey. He's been thinking about you specifically."
Part of me wanted to laugh and say good. The rest went hot and quiet and unsure.
"I want to be the woman who finds that flattering," I said.
"You are flattered."
"That's not the same thing."
Janice glanced at me, amused. "It will be."
She pulled into the parking lot.
By the time the engine cut, my heart was beating hard again. The difference from last time was that it didn't feel like dread. It felt like anticipation.
"Ready?" Janice asked.
I looked at the dark discreet building, then back at her. "Sixty percent."
She grinned. "That's my girl."
Ricardo was waiting outside, leaning against the wall beside the entrance in black suit pants and a silver dress shirt that fit him like expensive fabric fits a man who works out seriously.
No tie, top button open, thick dark hair swept back again.
When he saw me his smile started slow and shifted into high gear by the time he straightened up.
"You made it."
"I made it."
"You look dangerous, Lacey."
He said my name differently from the way he'd said it the first time. Less polite. More awake.
"That was the goal," I said, and was surprised how steady it sounded.
Janice stepped up beside me and looped her arm through mine. "Come on. Let's get inside before she talks herself out of it."
Ricardo guided us toward the same high-top table we'd had last time, the reserved card already waiting. His hand grazed my bare shoulder as he leaned close.
"Sit." His voice was very near my ear. "Breathe. You're safe here."
It wasn't quite a request. Last time the certainty in his voice had reassured me.
Tonight the reassurance was still there, but underneath it was the fact that I wasn't saying no on principle anymore.
The word safe resonated differently when safe included the possibility of doing what I'd run out the door to avoid last time.
I sat. I breathed.
Janice ordered our drinks without asking. She had us memorized. Orange juice for herself, sparkling water with lime for Ricardo, vodka soda for me. We toasted.
"So," I said, setting my glass down. "What happens now?"
Ricardo smiled. "Whatever you want. We sit, we talk, we people-watch until you're comfortable. We dance when you're ready. Janice can show you more of the space when you want to see it." He shrugged, easy. "Or we sit here all night and I'll still think tonight was worth it."
I looked around. The energy in the main lounge was building.
More bodies on the dance floor, more hands moving freely, more mouths finding necks and shoulders in the half-dark.
A couple in the corner kissing deeply, her fingers in his hair.
Two women dancing together so close they were barely moving, just swaying, foreheads almost touching. It was charged. Deliberate.
"I'm still nervous," I admitted.
"That's fine," Ricardo said. He reached over and covered my hand with his. "You don't have to be anything other than what you are right now."
I blushed but didn't pull away.
We sat and talked for a good while. Music, medicine, a film Janice had seen twice that Ricardo had opinions about.
Ordinary conversation in an extraordinary room, which turned out to be exactly what I needed.
Slowly, measurably, I settled. The fight-or-flight response that had driven me out the door last time loosened its grip.
I could look around the room without the shame response firing immediately.
I could take in what was happening with a feeling closer to curiosity than panic.
I finished my vodka soda and didn't reach for another.
"Okay," I said to Janice. "Tour me."
We moved past the bar, through a velvet curtain into a dimly lit hallway. Ricardo offered his arm and I took it, his forearm solid and warm under my fingers.
First stop: a large open lounge, low beds and couches arranged in a loose semicircle, amber lighting, music filtering through from the main room.
Several couples and small groups were playing.
Two women kissing deeply while a man watched, one hand moving slowly.
A couple in reverse cowgirl, her head thrown back, his hands gripping her hips.
Another trio, a woman on her knees between two men, who were taking turns, all three of them relaxed and fluid.
It went through me, warm and low, and I gripped Ricardo's arm.
Janice kept her voice low, informational. "Main social play area. Open, consensual, voyeur-friendly. You can watch, join, or walk by. Nobody cares which."
We moved on. A hallway with several doors, some open, some closed.
"Private rooms," Janice said. "Lockable. For couples or small groups who want the space."
One door was ajar. I glanced through.
A woman was spread-eagle on the bed, wrists and ankles secured, blindfolded.
Her partner was working over her slowly with a feather and a small vibrator, not rushing toward anything, just taking his time.
Her sounds were pleading, rising and falling.
Her whole body was pulled taut, straining toward his hands, and her face was absolutely unguarded.
I stood there longer than I meant to.
Something deep in me went very still and very awake at once. A woman fully given over. Eyes covered. Hands tied. Trusting whatever was going to happen to her.
I wanted to keep watching.
Ricardo's voice was in my ear. "We can move on whenever you want."
I made myself move.
A smaller room with a large mattress and mirrored walls. Four people, two couples, tangled together in slow motion. Mouths on skin, hands moving without urgency, quiet encouragement in the half-dark. The mirrors multiplied everything.
A hot tub area, steam rising from the water, several bodies in various states of undress. A woman straddling a man in the water, rocking slowly, head tipped back. Others lounging, touching casually, like people who'd long ago decided there was nothing to hide.
Janice glanced at me. "Still okay?"
"Yeah." And I meant it. "It keeps being a lot. But it doesn't feel dangerous."
Ricardo's voice was quiet near my ear. "Just people being honest about what they want. No pretending."
We looped back toward the main lounge. I sat down at our table on legs that weren't entirely steady, but the unsteadiness felt different from last time.
Janice slid in beside me. "So?"
I exhaled slowly. "It's intense. It keeps surprising me. But it feels—" I searched for the word. "Honest. Like Ricardo said."
Ricardo smiled. "Safe to explore. That's all it is."
I looked at him. Really looked. The silver shirt pulled across his shoulders. How his eyes held mine with interest and patience and a different signal under both that hadn't been there last time.
"I want to dance," I said.
Ricardo stood and offered his hand. I took it. His palm was strong and warm and I let him lead me to the floor.