seven Warren
seven
Warren
The door slams loudly behind me as I walk into Shadows.
There’s an energy in the air that is palpable as the staff prepares the bar and the rest of the club for tonight. As always, none of them ever makes eye contact with me as I walk by. They know the deal.
Music blares from the speakers above as I walk upstairs. Xavier has been here for hours, poring over every detail like the perfectionist he is. Damon texted me an hour ago when he arrived, pissed that I wasn’t already here.
I don’t know why they get so uptight. Everything always comes together.
“Finally, where have you been?” Damon grunts.
I walk past him over to the wardrobe where we keep our masks. They never leave Shadows. I grab my neon pink mask and lay it on my desk. Spinning around, I meet Damon’s glare.
“I’ve been at home jerking off,” I say, knowing that will only piss him off more.
Damon shakes his head. “Can’t you ever be serious? You should have been here an hour ago.”
Xavier turns in his chair. “I’ve been taking inventory for hours. We could have used your help.”
“I’m here now. What do you all need?” I ask, annoyed at their anger.
We all have our roles at Shadows. My role has always been to be the hype man. I focus on social media and make sure that when we need tickets to go live and word to get out, it all goes smoothly.
“We open in thirty minutes. Go make sure the bar is stocked,” Xavier orders.
Part of me wants to tell him to fuck off, but I know that will only shove the stick further up his ass. So I salute him and leave the office.
Twenty minutes later, I’ve ensured the bar is stocked, the waitresses know their sections, and I've checked the VIP rooms. Everything is ordered just as I knew it would be.
I make my way back upstairs and see Damon and Xavier already sitting in their chairs overlooking the club. Their masks are already on, so I run into the office, grab mine, and then sit down with them.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and when I retrieve it, I see another message from Chicka.
Chicka92: I’m coming tonight. I have questions.
I go to type a response, but think better of it. Instead, I close the message and shove my phone back inside of my pocket.
“You ready?” Damon asks me.
“I’m always fucking ready,” I say, sliding my mask on.
When the doors open, people begin flooding into the club, all donning their sexy masks and clothing.
At Shadows, everyone knows that when you enter the doors, you become another version of yourself.
The masks allow people to become someone else for the night.
They can hide their fears, insecurities, and worries.
Behind the mask, you can venture into uncharted territories of your sexual desires.
“Fuck me,” Damon mutters next to me.
I glance in his direction. His eyes are laser-focused on the dance floor, and I follow his gaze. I already know it’s Lily. Damon only has eyes for his fiancée, and it’s gross but sort of sweet, too.
“Lily’s here,” I say.
He nods. “She’s here with her friend. We are doing a little role-playing tonight. I’m going to meet up with her and…”
“Dude, I really don’t want to hear about your weird sex life,” I shout at him.
Damon chuckles, and Xavier rolls his eyes.
I watch people as they move around the space, everyone looking for what sparks their desires.
One group heads to the dancefloor, grinding and dancing together.
Another group heads to the VIP rooms, while others break into smaller groups and go to the private rooms where they can be more discreet.
While our club isn’t about prostitution or a sex club, consenting adults can partake in certain sexual acts if they so wish.
Like I said, Shadows is whatever you want it to be.
I turn to look at Xavier, and already, I know he’s only concerned about one thing: the money. While Damon used to look for hot women to satisfy his desires, Xavier has always been more concerned with money. The sound of a cash register turns him on.
I like to look at the women, but I never hook up with the women at Shadows. We have to keep our identities private, and that would ruin it.
My eyes continue to roam over the space. I smile as people look up, watching us in awe. It’s hard not to feel like a god when you are put on such a pedestal.
My phone buzzes again, and I grab it, already annoyed as I imagine my dad texting me about another job. However, it’s not my dad. It’s the same message from last time.
Chicka92: I’m here, and I want to talk.
My eyes shoot to the door just as a woman walks into Shadows. My heart stops as I can’t seem to look away.
This woman is like a tempting gothic phantom, stunning and sophisticated.
A crimson red mask covers her face, but those plump lips stand out as the lights from the disco ball flash across her face.
Long, brown hair cascades down her shoulders, and then my eyes land on luscious hips that sway as she moves.
The black lace dress she’s wearing fits her body like a damn glove, and all I can think about is how sexy it would look ripped to shreds beside her naked body.
Leaning forward, I struggle to get a better look at her. I’ve never wanted to remove a mask as badly as I do now. She walks through the crowd, and they part like the Red Sea for her. She looks up, and our eyes lock. Those red lips form into a devious smile, and my dick twitches in my pants.
Who the hell is this woman?
She heads to the bar and talks with one of our bartenders. There's an air of confidence about her that drives me wild. I wish I could go down there and talk to her, to hear what her voice sounds like, but I can’t.
That’s another rule at Shadows. The guys and I never leave our spot. We don’t interact with the guests; we just watch. But something about this woman makes me want to break our rules.
She turns again, this time with a drink in her hand. She places her lips on the straw and sucks, and fuck me, I’m hard.
Mesmerized, I can’t tear my eyes away from her. The way she sucks on her straw, her eyes trained on me, feels like the most sexual fucking act. I lick my lips, and she smiles again.
Her skin looks like caramel, and I desperately need a taste.
Feeling as if I am going to explode, I move to stand.
“What are you doing?” Xavier asks, looking concerned.
It takes me a second to realize what I’ve done. I glance back at the woman and then at Xavier. Slowly, I sit back down.
“Nothing, just had a cramp,” I lied.
An anxious energy courses through me as I watch the woman move to the dance floor. When her body starts to move in rhythm to the music, I can’t seem to sit still any longer. I have to find out who this woman is, or I am going to go crazy.