Hudson leans on the bar next to me, keeping a careful distance. “Are you all right?”
“It seems like you keep having to ask me that.”
He smiles. “I don’t mind, so long as you are all right.”
“I think so,” I say. “But I’m glad that you have excellent timing.” I take a moment to absorb him. He’s wearing all black, a button down and pants. And he’s wearing a simple black mask like mine. Though I don’t think anyone would have trouble picking him out even if he were wearing an obvious costume.
“I’m sorry that happened,” he says, sighing. “We really try to keep the atmosphere here safe and positive. Some bad apples always manage to slip through.”
I take a deep breath, my body relaxing, my instincts telling me that I’m safe now. “It’s not your fault. Creeps are always creeps. Though it’s nice to know he won’t ever be coming back.”
“He won’t.” His voice is all certainty.
“Good,” I say. “And I think you offered to buy me a drink this morning?”
I can see his eyes crinkle with his smile behind the mask. “I did, and seeing that you’re in my club, and you just had an unpleasant experience, I insist.”
“Wait, what? You’re the owner?” That’s why the bouncer upstairs said he was a V.I.P. And also why security came over instantly. Holy crap.
Hudson gestures for the bartender. “I’m one of them, yes. I share the ownership with two close friends.” He orders a beer and I order a martini. It’s been a while since I’ve had one, and why not.
“Well, shit. No wonder you couldn’t come out for dinner.”
“Yeah,” he says. “It might have looked bad if I hadn’t shown up to our own party.”
“Even though you’re not really in costume.”
“Neither are you,” he says, his eyes drawing down my body all the way to my toes. It has the opposite effect of the cowboy. My body heats the same way it did watching that couple on the stage, and I lean back further on the bar, letting the robe slip open a little bit more. Dressed in this costume, I feel like I can be the kind of woman that deserves him.
“I don’t know. This just seemed right.”
“Believe me,” he says, taking a sip of his beer. “I’m not complaining.”
I take a sip of my martini, and for a moment I feel like I’m looking at myself through someone else’s eyes. Decked out in an outrageous outfit, perched against a bar with the hottest man I’ve ever seen, drinking a cocktail. How is this my life? That little tagline from the business card and the website pops into my head. Be who you really are. Is this who I really am? I have no idea, but it doesn’t hurt to find out, just for the night. For tonight, I can be…somebody else. A woman of mystery who isn’t a boring girl who spends most of her evenings watching TV and editing pictures. It feels good to let that go for a bit. My heart rate spikes. I can be whoever I want.
“So how does someone own a sex club? It’s not something you find at most career days.”
He smiles that small smile, and I wonder what it might be like to feel that smile against my lips. “No, it’s not. Unfortunately, it’s not as interesting a story as you might think. My friends and I wanted a place where we could be ourselves when it came to sex—whatever that meant. And every club we went to seemed too restrictive. So we started our own. As long as something is consensual and not illegal, you’ll probably be able to find it here.”
“I can see why it’s so popular.” I shift my weight closer to him. It’s not much, but he notices.
“Would you like a tour?”
Something about the way he says it makes me think that a tour isn’t all he has in mind, but that’s fine with me. “Sure.” I tip the rest of my drink back and let him take my hand and draw me across the club. We climb the stairs to the second floor, and I try not to let my jaw gape at what I see. There were pictures of the theme rooms on the website, but seeing them with people is a very different experience. The orgy room is so filled with limbs and bodies that it’s hard to see where one person ends and another begins. My eyes are drawn to a man whose head is between a woman’s legs, and that same woman has someone else’s cock in her mouth. I feel that wetness gather between my legs again even though Hudson pulls me past the room. We see a woman dressed like a secretary in a staged office. I guess she got the memo all wrong because her boss is spanking her. There’s a room that looks like a meadow with what looks like a castle tower in the background.
“This is our newest room. It seems to be popular.”
Two people are having sex on the ground in the false woods, medieval costumes in piles around them. “I suppose the damsel in distress fantasy is something a lot of people have.”
“What about you?” he asks.
“I don’t really have fantasies.”
Still holding my hand, he draws me closer until I’m pressed lightly against his side. “I don’t believe that for a second. Everybody has fantasies.”
I press my lips together to keep from laughing. “I don’t think so.” I’m not lying, I’ve never had one fantasy that really gets me off. Yet another aspect of me that’s thoroughly average and mostly boring.
Hudson leans closer until I think he might kiss me, but he doesn’t. His face is so close to mine that I can taste his breath, and it’s sweet. “Well, maybe we’ll have to find out for sure.”
“Is that a service you provide here at Club Deep?” I ask, a little breathlessly.
“Most people come here knowing exactly what they want. So helping someone
explore that is gratifying.”
I let myself lean into him, “You didn’t answer the question.”
“It’s not a service we provide, but it’s something I’m more than willing to do for you.”
My breath stills in my chest, and it feels like time stands still. If I were just me right now, this would terrify me. But I’m not me. I’m a woman of mystery at a party, and this is everything I’ve wanted. “I think I’d like that.”
His smile is slow and sensual. “Come on, the thing really worth seeing is this way.” Just beyond us, at the end of the balcony, is a thick velvet curtain that I didn’t notice. And I let him pull me through into a different world.
5
Beyond the curtain is a giant space, all burgundy velvet drapes and purple lights. Aerialists hang from the ceiling and alcoves filled with couches and candles are visible behind misty curtains. It’s magical and the energy is purely sexual. It’s not as blatant as downstairs where everything is on display, instead here the music is quieter, and the moans from the alcoves provide their own soundtrack, with half-hidden glimpses of the acts being performed as we walk by.
“This is our special event space,” Hudson says. “We open it whenever we have a party like this. You should see it when we decorate it for Christmas.”
“I’m sure it’s gorgeous,” I say. He pulls me all the way to the end and into an empty alcove with a luxurious couch and table where there’s champagne in a bucket and a centerpiece of candles on the low table. “How did you already have this set up?”
Hudson smiles. “There are some advantages to being the owner.”
“Meaning you asked for this to be set up when you heard that I was here?” I slide myself down onto the couch, crossing my legs and letting the sheer robe fall open.
He sits down next to me, close enough to touch, but not. “Exactly.”
Everything in here is perfect and gorgeous from the butter softness of this couch to the crystal champagne glasses. He’s the one who leans forward and fills those same glasses and hands me one.