8. Rule #8 First dates are for kisses, not blow jobs.
Matis
This isn’t me. I don’t feel like myself.
First, there was that very awkward moment when I called Amelia sexy…to her face. What the hell is wrong with me?
I blame this date. And that dating app. They have me out of my depth. Feeling like another man altogether.
Now I’m laughing at this woman’s jokes and smiling like a fool even though I hate every moment of this. If I had my way, we’d be in bed by now. There’s no awkward small talk in fucking.
She’d be screaming out my name and then I would feel accomplished, like I did something worthwhile.
I know everything there is to know about pleasing a woman (and a man for that matter), but talking to them? This is where I’m lost. I feel useless. I’m supposed to make her like me without using my hands or my mouth… How do I do that?
“So you mentioned you were retired,” Laura says, running her finger around the rim of her wineglass.
We’re on our second round, and things seem to be going well.
She stares at me from across the table like she’d like to eat me for dinner, which is exciting to me but doesn’t quite give me the impression I could see myself with her after tonight.
“I am,” I reply.
“Are you going to tell me from where or is it a mystery?”
Laura is Canadian and has lived in Paris for two years for her job for some retail company. She has a thick accent that I find endearing. Not nearly as cute as Amelia’s American accent from growing up around Americans with a hint of French from living in Paris her entire life.
I clear my throat as I consider how to answer this question. Amelia said not to lead with the sex club, but I’m not exactly leading with it now. It would be deceptive to omit it at this point.
“I owned a club for thirty years,” I say outright as I take a sip from my glass.
Laura’s eyebrows raise. “A club?”
“Yes, a…sex club.”
Her brows go even farther up her forehead. This is the point where she’ll either excuse herself and never return or lean in and show keen interest. There’s not much in between.
To my surprise, Laura chooses the latter.
Leaning her elbows on the table, she tilts her head with curiosity. “A sex club here in Paris?”
“Yes. Just down the street, actually.”
The corner of her mouth lifts in a flirtatious smirk. “How did you get into such a thing? At such a young age, I assume. Thirty years…you must have been in your twenties when you started.”
I smile to myself. This is where the story gets interesting.
“Younger, actually. My mother was a burlesque dancer. It used to be a cabaret, and when I was only fifteen, I started working there to help pay the bills. Unfortunately, it closed down after a while, and the owner had grown to love me and my mother so much, he passed it down to me. He thought the property was useless. I was only twenty-three when I opened it back up.”
Laughing to myself, I remember that year, pouring every last cent and ounce of sweat into the club. I wanted to make it something more. Someplace I wanted to be.
My mother had retired from dancing, and I wanted nothing more than to let her relax so I could take care of her.
The first couple of years were rough, but then the people started pouring in. And so did the money. My mother never stepped foot in L’Amour after I reopened it, but she knew the true nature of the club.
“That’s so fascinating,” Laura says, leaning closer. Then I feel the soft touch of her foot along the inside of my calf.
I pause, noticing her restlessness. “Well, yes. I guess it is.” I shift in my seat, suddenly uncomfortable—not with her touch but with my own indecision. What would the new Matis do in this situation?
“So…is it still open? What’s it like inside? I’m so curious,” she says, faking her innocence with a bashful smile and a bite of her lip.
So curious basically means she wants to see it. And more than likely she wants me to fuck her there.
This first date is quickly falling off course.
And the worst part is…with that strange encounter earlier with Amelia and just the odd way I’ve been feeling lately, I want to take her to the club. I want to just fall into my old habits, fully knowing that I likely won’t see her again after today if I take her to that club now.
I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t.
To hell with it.
Leaning toward her, I run my finger along the length of her forearm to her elbow, watching the goose bumps erupt in my wake. “Actually, yes, it is. Would you like to go see it?”
She grins widely, this time blushing for real.
“Yes, I would.”
Laura keeps her hand linked around my arm as we pass through the entrance to Legacy. I explained to her how when I retired, they rebranded and changed the name of the club. I couldn’t be more proud of how they handled the change, but most days, I do miss owning it.
“This is just the bar,” I say as I give her a tour of the main level.
“Looks pretty tame,” she replies with a mischievous grin.
“Come with me.” Taking her hand in mine, I lead her down the stairs toward the lower level. Security doesn’t stop us, only waves a greeting at me since they all know me well. I may not be the owner anymore, but I still have the key cards and the same access I did before.
As we reach the sex club portion of the club, Laura clutches close to me with wonder in her eyes. “Wow.”
“It’s incredible, isn’t it?”
Her gaze sweeps the space, blushing when she notices the free use wall in the back and the open play dance floor in the middle. Not that those are the only places people can get wild in the open. There’s plenty happening in the VIP booths that we can clearly see from here.
“Another drink?” I ask.
She shoots me a look of excitement and a touch of hesitation. “Yes, please.”
I get it. Coming to a sex club for the first time must be a little scary for newcomers.
Something I certainly can’t relate to, but I see the looks on their faces.
It takes a while to get used to it. The uninhibited sex.
The blatant perversion. Naked bodies and salacious sounds. It’s out of the ordinary.
At the bar with Laura, I fall into old habits. I lean in close, caging her between my body and the bar. As I brush her hair back, she melts under my touch.
“You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever met,” she whispers as I inch my lips closer to her ear. Those words once made me feel praised and elated, but now they are just hollow.
Instead, I hear someone else’s whispered compliment resurfacing from my memory. Not from Laura, from someone else. Someone I should not be thinking about in this moment.
Do you know how sexy you are without even trying?
A sharp tongue. A pair of crystalline blue eyes. A smirk. A fidget. A giggle.
And my cock reacts.
Stop it.
Trying to drown out the thought of her, I abruptly pull Laura in for a kiss. It takes her by surprise, but she throws herself into my arms all the same.
Suddenly, I’m all too eager to fuck up this first date. Not just for sex’s sake, but I am filled to the brim with desperation to get back to my old self. The version of me that seeks willing bedroom partners and doesn’t involuntarily fantasize about my goddaughter.
Our drinks come but we don’t touch them.
I’m too busy traversing the landscape of her body with my hands, searching out subtle differences between her and the woman I’m desperately trying not to think about.
Laura’s ass is flatter. Her hips are slimmer.
She’s taller and the nails digging into my back are longer.
When we finally come up from air from our kiss, she’s gazing into my eyes with arousal and longing.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen this way,” I whisper, and she wistfully exhales at the sentiment. I should feel terrible for leading her on. But I’ll make that up to her later. She has no idea how good I can make her feel if she could just help me get this persistent little blond out of my head.
“Can we rent a room?” she replies. “I’m not sure I’m ready for the whole…out in the open thing yet.”
Rent a room.
The one thing I’m not supposed to be doing.
“Yes.” Eagerly, I take her hand and turn toward the bar, flagging down Weston.
He nods at me before walking over. “What’s up?”
“Any open rooms?”
He pulls out the tablet the staff uses to check room reservations. “Uh…looks like the voyeur room just became available. Maintenance just checked out.”
“Perfect,” I mumble as I tap the bar. “We’ll take it.” There’s a buzz of uncertainty under my skin. I do this nearly every night here, but something about this time feels wrong.