Chapter 3
Sullivan~
Normally, a night at The Fantasy Factory made a man’s troubles all go away, but not tonight.
While I was doing my best to be a good host, I was still fuming over that meeting this morning.
Mitzi Bardot had a hell of a lot of nerve to speak to me the way that she’d had, and I didn’t care about her reasons why.
Sure, after she’d stormed out of the conference room, Martin had been eager to explain away her insubordination, probably terrified that I’d fire her, and I couldn’t blame the man.
For all that she’d been straddling the line between suspension and termination, Mitzi Bardot was just too fucking valuable to toss out the front door.
Especially, in light of their newest claims, and that was something else that she got points for.
Mitzi always used the words ‘we’ and ‘us’, never using ‘me’ or ‘I’ when talking about anything that had to do with her team, and that was admirable, no matter what else I thought of her.
I also couldn’t lie and say that I hadn’t been very interested in Martin’s explanation of her this morning.
According to him, she’d found out that her boyfriend had been cheating on her, and so she had spent the past few days moving out of their apartment and ending things with him, which had made my dick happy with hope, though we both knew that nothing would come of it.
Despite how attracted I was to the woman, she was my employee, and I was not going to go there.
Still, I was happy that she had finally dumped that dead weight boyfriend of hers.
At any rate, I had managed to get through the day without storming the research labs to see her data on the retina cell protection, and it hadn’t been until around four that I’d gotten a text, reminding me that I had promised to sponsor Elvis Boroko at The Fantasy Factory tonight.
He ran a robotics company that we partnered with quite often, and being as single as they came, he enjoyed visiting the club whenever he was in town.
Now, The Fantasy Factory wasn’t your typical night club, nor was it a sex club.
It was something in between, and its success was evident if you ever visited on the weekend.
It was always packed, and since it’d been designed for women in mind, there was never a shortage of ladies that wanted no-strings-attached sex, which worked for most men, if you wanted to know the truth.
Having been open for a year already, it was the go-to place for a good time, adult-style.
The first floor had the bar, restrooms, lobby, and two private party rooms, aptly named The Bachelor Pad and Ladies’ Night.
Then there was a grand-style staircase that led to the second floor, which had the playrooms, but there was also an elevator underneath the landing if you needed it.
Anyway, if you were into degradation, BDSM, multiple-partners, or voyeurism, that’s where you went to either take in a show or participate, and all with the comforting knowledge that there was security readily available to snap any man’s neck should he overstep.
Now, it was the second floor that made it a sex club, but it was the bottom floor that made it just a regular place to drink and have a good time.
There was no sex allowed out in the open, though management didn’t care what happened in the party rooms. There were even bowls of condoms and lube available in each room, providing everything that you might need for a successful evening out.
However, if you were caught breaking the rules, you got banned for life, no exceptions.
The owner didn’t care who you were, how much money you had, or how powerful you were.
If you broke her rules, you were gone, which had me reminding Elvis that he was getting a bit too close to crossing the line.
Currently, his hand was up his date’s skirt, and we were at the bar.
“Elvis, let me add a room to the tab,” I suggested, giving him a pointed look, knowing that it shouldn’t be a problem since I was picking up the costs tonight.
He looked at the blonde on his lap, then asked, “What do you say? Would you like to take in a room?”
“To watch or participate?” she asked coyly, and while I wasn’t judging, it was obvious that she was down for either scenario.
With no need for finesse, Elvis answered, “Participate. I wouldn’t mind letting these people watch me fuck the hell out of you, sweetheart.”
She cuddled closer to him, pushing her impressive cleavage together. “With or without a condom?”
“Your choice,” he replied gallantly. “Never let it be said that I ever forced a woman to do something that she wasn’t comfortable with.”
“Without,” she quickly informed him. “And I like it when a man cums on my face.”
“Oh, do you?” he chuckled, and that was my cue.
I did not need to be here for this.
“I’ll flag down the bartender and get you a room,” I told them both. “I’ll text you when it’s ready.”
“Thanks, Sullivan,” Elvis beamed. “You’re really a standup guy.”
Before I could say anything to that, he hauled the blonde up in his arms, then carried her up the staircase bride-style. My guess was that he was trying to impress her, but I didn’t see that as necessary. Like Elvis, she was here for some fun, and it didn’t get any simpler than that.
After procuring a room for the happy couple, I finished my drink, then flagged down the bartender again.
With the blonde babysitting Elvis for the rest of the night, my presence here was no longer needed.
Now, that wasn’t to say that I couldn’t benefit from getting my dick wet while I was here, but since there was only one woman occupying my mind tonight, I wasn’t up to disappointing someone because she wasn’t Mitzi, which was a problem in itself.
However, as soon as I signed my tab, then dropped a hundred on the counter for the tip, I turned to see the bane of my existence walking towards the bar in a scrap of fabric that was supposed to be a dress but clearly wasn’t.
The thing was the same color blue as her eyes, and the straps were as thin as a single thread, and the rest of it barely covered her ass.
With my heart in my throat, it only took a few seconds to figure out why she was here, because that was a revenge-dress if ever I saw one.
She was also wearing some rather tall heels, and if it wasn’t for her dark hair pinned up stylishly, her subtle makeup, and perfect complexion, you’d think that she belonged on a street corner in that getup.
As I watched her order a drink, it was also clear that all my earlier declarations about not fucking employees had been bullshit.
If Mitzi was here for some revenge sex, I’d be goddamned if she was going to have it with anyone other than me.
Not only was revenge sex a great motivator to make women lose their inhibitions, but hate-sex was also the best kind of sex, and right now, Mitzi wasn’t too happy with me, nor I with her.
However, it wasn’t until I glanced around the room and saw random men already eyeing her that I made my decision.
While it might all blow up in my face, I was willing to take the chance.
In fact, I wanted her enough to propose something serious if I had to, and if that wasn’t a clear indication that I was losing it, then I didn’t know what was.
I wasn’t a relationship-type of guy, but I was at the point where I had to have the woman, no matter what compromises I needed to make.
Walking over to where she was sitting, it was a good thing that she’d just finished with the first sip of her drink, because when she finally noticed me, she looked as shocked as I’d been when I’d first seen her walking into the place.
“What...what are you...you doing here?” she sputtered, clearly surprised or embarrassed.
“A better question is what in the hell are you doing here?” I countered. “Dressed like that, no less.”
She immediately scowled. “What’s wrong with the way that I’m dressed?”
“It looks like you’re trolling for dick, Ms. Bardot.”
The woman wasn’t easily intimidated, I’d give her that. “In case you’re not aware of where we are, I am trolling for dick, Mr. Gray.”
For anyone paying attention, that was how you got the upper hand.
Despite knowing the truth, I asked, “And where’s your boyfriend?”
“Not sure,” she answered evenly. “He’s either still on vacation with his side piece, or else he’s back home, trying to figure out how to pay all the bills with me no longer living there now.”
“And you’re here for what? Revenge sex?” I pressed.
“I’m here because I’m done settling in the name of love,” she practically spat.
“How so?” I asked, genuinely curious, and she was mad at the sonofabitch enough to let it all out.
“Well, for starters, we were only allowed to have sex two weeks out of the month.”
Completely baffled, I asked, “What? What in the hell does that mean?”
“He refused to touch me while on my period, and for sanitary precautions, he liked to take the week after my period to make sure that everything was safe down there,” she replied, and she was serious as fuck, making me wonder what in the world had she ever seen in the idiot.
“I’ve got nothing,” I finally admitted, trying to wrap my mind around such a thing.
“So, if you don’t mind, I’m here to finally get my bell rung in the way that it deserves, and since I’ll never see the man again, I don’t have to worry about being judged,” she went on, and for whatever reason, I found her bell being rung to be the cutest analogy ever.
Yeah, I was officially in trouble.