Chapter 23
Emmy
Luke
You still thinking about that list? Because I’ve got an idea for what we could try next…
Luke’s text lies open on my phone screen as I dither over how to reply. It’s Wednesday night and I’m home in my fuzzy pyjamas. I’ve got those little collagen gel masks under my eyes and I have never felt less sexy, but the thrill that zips up my spine at Luke’s message burns right through that.
After typing about a dozen variations of “tell me more” and “I’m listening”, I settle for something simple.
What have you got in mind?
A few seconds later, three dots appear and he’s typing. I let out an involuntary squeal. Sloane’s out so it’s only me here.
Luke
Do you trust me?
You know I do.
Luke
Come to Salt, tomorrow at 9pm. Wear something… accessible.
Ok… Anything else I should know?
Luke
You say stop, I stop. Goodnight Emmy xx
You got it. Goodnight Luke xx
My heart is skipping around my chest as I dial Chloe on FaceTime. I’d already filled her in on the spectacular sex with Luke and I need someone to scream at.
“Chlo, Luke’s taking me to Salt!” I yell before she’s even said hello.
“Oh my god! Tell me everything!”
Josh’s face appears as he muscles in beside her. With some men it would be annoying, but Josh has always been an endlessly cheerful source of support, especially since my birthday. It’s kind of nice to have a platonic male friend who’s so shamelessly rooting for you to get laid.
“He just texted me and said he’d had some thoughts about my list, and to meet him tomorrow at Salt wearing something ‘accessible!’” I say, breathless with excitement.
“Em, this is huge!” Chloe says, as Josh just grins at me.
“Well, well, well. How the ol’ tables have turned eh,” he adds. “Glad he’s finally seen sense, Em.”
“Thanks Josh, your support of my sex life is endearing. But what the fuck am I going to wear?”
“Something crotchless?” Josh suggests, as Chloe elbows him.
“Josh! Ew. But actually yes, maybe crotchless is your best bet? A short dress with crotchless knickers?”
“I don’t own crotchless knickers!” I exclaim, catching a smug side eye between the two of them. I love that there’s still magic in their marriage despite the three kids, even if I don’t particularly want the mental image at this exact moment.
“Ok, you know what’s more accessible than crotchless knickers?” says Chloe with a wicked smile. “No knickers at all.”
“Yes! Perfect, babe,” says Josh, kissing Chloe on the temple.
“Ok, but it’s got to be a long dress, right? I don’t want to flash a cabbie or get arrested on the tube.”
“Oh! I’ve just thought. You’ve still got that backless number, right? The one you wore to the opera that time?”
I do. It came with me when I packed up my shit from the house in Fulham. Colin told me it wasn’t classy because I couldn’t wear a bra with it but I didn’t care and wore it anyway.
I can’t believe I didn’t think of it myself.
“This is why I love you. Now I’ve got to try and get some beauty sleep and not spend the next 21 hours spiralling out,” I reply.
“You’ve got this babe. We’re rooting for you. I will require an immediate debrief after, ok?” she says, giving me an instructive nod.
“You bet. Thanks Chlo, thanks Josh. Love you guys.” I hang up and peel the gels from under my eyes.
Oh, we are SO on.
As I press the S doorbell at Salt the following evening, my palms are sweating.
I have no idea what to expect and the butterflies in my stomach are making me feel like I might hurl on the pavement.
I’ve got to find a way to channel my inner cool.
I’ve been to Salt a few times now and I’ve never felt this nervous before.
Before, I was window shopping. This time, I’m here to tick something off my extensive list with a man I’ve known most of my life.
A man who, until recently, saw me only as his best mate’s little sister.
The doorman opens the door and gives me a warm smile.
“Ms Warner, Mr Pullman is expecting you. If you’d like to make your way to the bar, I’ll let him know you’ve arrived.” He takes my coat then gives me a subtle bow, gesturing towards the stairs, which I follow down into the main bar.
I’ve got to give Luke credit where it’s due – Salt really is beautiful. It’s such a classy place, all rich velvets and heavy fabrics. You’d never know what went on here if you didn’t visit the playrooms. It looks like any other fancy cabaret bar or speakeasy.
I’ve not been inside the playrooms yet, apart from on my tour with the manager Jessie when I joined as a member.
I did a pretty convincing display of nonchalance which I'm sure she didn’t buy for a second; each room gave me a new spike of adrenaline and seriously sweaty palms. Most were set up with large four poster beds, with subtle additions of hooks and loops in the woodwork, but one had a working set of stocks and two of them had drains set into the tiled floors.
I imagine the cleaning staff here have a story or two.
As I arrive at the bar, the bartender greets me with a warm smile and offers me a drink, “courtesy of Mr Pullman”.
The man himself has yet to appear and I perch on the stool to sip my martini, summoning all my energy into looking effortless and bored.
I’m the one who talked him into being my fuck buddy – I can’t lose face now.
A few seconds later, I feel a prickle of awareness down my spine and turn to see Luke striding towards me from through the curtains that lead to the playrooms. He’s wearing a velvet tuxedo, hair deliciously mussed, and he looks devastating.
A bolt of arousal whips right through my core at the memory of his face when he came undone the other night, and I can’t help but smile as we lock eyes.
He leans in and kisses my cheek, brushing my hair back and tracing his hand down my back. I see his pupils widen slightly as he realises the dress is backless and a glint of pure sex appears in his eyes. I take a deep breath as goosebumps ripple out from where his fingertips skimmed my skin.
“Em. You look stunning,” he says as he pulls back. His eyes are dark and I bite my lip as my eyes drop to his mouth.
“Thank you. So do you,” I reply, reaching out a hand to brush an invisible speck off his lapel. Any excuse to touch him.
“Giancarlo, can I grab a martini please? Extra dirty.” He leans on the bar next to me as the bartender grins and starts making it with a flourish. “How’ve you been?”
“Good thank you. You?” We’re making small talk but my eyes keep darting to the playrooms behind him and he doesn’t miss it. He leans in close to my ear.
“Are you nervous?” he whispers, brushing his lips against the shell of my ear. I shiver and my breath catches, nipples immediately perking up at his proximity.
“No,” I lie. He smirks.
“I’ll put you out of your misery. I thought tonight we might try a bit of good old-fashioned voyeurism. We’ve got a bit of a special performance tonight, a couple of regulars who love to put on a show out back.” He nods in the direction of the playrooms and my pulse kicks up a notch.
“Ok,” I breathe.
“We’ll only go back there if you’re comfortable and we can leave the moment you say stop.
This is about you, not me. Don’t ever hesitate to say stop.
” He raises his brows and gives me a pointed look as I nod.
Giancarlo places the drink down in front of him and he takes a long sip without breaking eye contact.
“Ok,” I repeat. “So, you’re like my… sex sherpa?”
He laughs and the sound lights up my whole body.
“Sure. Your sex sherpa. Your voyeur valet.” He gives me a sexy grin and leans in to brush his lips over mine.
I sigh into the kiss. The martini is kicking in and I’m starting to feel slightly fuzzy around the edges.
It’s probably a good thing that Salt has a two-drink limit.
I drain the last of it and stand as he does the same.
He offers his arm.
“Shall we?”
He leads me back through the curtain and I feel the butterflies start back up in my stomach.
The lighting back here is so soft that I have to blink to let my eyes adjust. We’re in a wide corridor with rooms off to the side and a small crowd gathered in the middle.
Plush seats have been laid out facing a window which is currently hidden by a heavy curtain.
Luke tugs on my hand and pulls me down onto a soft velvet two-seater at the back, just as the curtains are drawn back to reveal the playroom before us. There’s a soft “ooh” from the small crowd and I stare, transfixed, at the scene that unfolds before us.
A redhead with pale skin, freckles, and generous sweeping curves is led towards the bed in the centre of the room by a tall, well-set Black man.
She’s wearing lingerie, stockings, and a thin black band around her neck.
It takes me a moment to realise it’s attached to a lead and that her partner is holding the other end.
My lips part in surprise and I watch as she kneels before him at the foot of the bed.
He reaches out a hand to caress her jaw. I’m barely breathing.
Her eyes go molten as he taps her cheek and she parts her lips.
He pushes his thumb in between her lips and she sucks.
I can feel Luke’s eyes on me as I watch the couple in front of us but I can’t take my eyes off them.
A few moments later, the man pulls his thumb out and she tugs down his boxers, revealing his long, thick cock.
He pulls her towards it by the collar and she begins a messy blowjob while he coos praise at her.
It takes me a beat to realise the room is wired, every sound, every word, every groan, piped to the audience in the corridor.
It’s unbelievably hot and it feels so forbidden that I’m watching them do this right before my eyes.
The telltale flicker of arousal starts to build in my abdomen just as a warm hand skates up the naked skin of my back.
My nipples instantly tighten as Luke begins to trace slow, lazy circles across my skin.
He leans over to press a kiss to my shoulder and I’m toast. Heat is pooling in my core and as I stare at the couple, I let out a needy sigh and feel him smile against my skin.
The man in the playroom pulls his partner up and splays her out on the bed, peppering her thick, luscious thighs with kisses and whispering filthy things to her.
The microphones don’t capture it all but I hear the words “beg for it, whore” more than once and bite my lip.
Watching the redhead give herself over to him so completely doesn’t make me feel like a creep – it makes me feel oddly emotional.
The tenderness between the two of them, the trust that’s clearly surrounding their every move is showing me something I’ve spent years pretending I didn’t want.
There is adoration and reverence in every motion, even with the dirty talk that punctuates the scene.
“Degradation can be a form of worship,” Luke whispers in my ear before he kisses me just below it. I close my eyes.
I am transported, very briefly, to the moment six years ago when I first asked Colin to try out handcuffs and talking down to me in bed.
I’d read him a passage from one of my favourite spicy books and asked if he’d act out a similar scene.
You’d think from his reaction that I’d just suggested he stick a cactus up his own arse.
He was horrified and told me that women who were turned on by that were sick.
He said if I wanted someone to disrespect me in bed, then I probably ought to be in therapy. And we never spoke of it again.
As I shake off the memory, I smile and lean into the sinful safety of Luke’s arms, watching one of my fantasies play out in front of me.
As I soak up his warmth, watching the redhead give herself over completely, something sharp twists inside me.
It isn’t just the filth that makes my pulse race, it’s the tenderness, the way she’s worshipped even as she’s undone.
I realise with a jolt that this is what I’ve been starving for all along: the safety to be vulnerable, the trust to hand it all over to another person and know that you’re cherished.
Colin never gave me that. He never even tried.
Here, though, I feel the freedom to want and to be wanted.
To exist inside my own hunger without shame.
And that terrifies me almost as much as it thrills me.
Because this thing with Luke was supposed to be just physical – a list, a fling, a body to learn with.
But if intimacy like this is already bleeding through, then I’m in far more danger than I thought.