20
Janice threw her arms around Lana, air-kissing both cheeks and pulling her by the hands into the back office.
“So good to see you again, sweetheart,” she cooed, fixing a strand of Lana’s blonde hair. “Are you here for a wax?”
Lana pulled the invitation from her bag. “Not this time, but thanks. Did you get one of these?” she whispered, looking over her shoulder to ensure the office door was shut.
Janice balanced on the edge of a plush lilac chair and opened the top drawer of her desk. “I certainly did. I nearly fainted.” She lifted out a pearly pink diary and leafed through the pages. “I’ve checked my records. There has never been an event planned a week apart.”
Lana returned the black card to the safety of her bag. “Who sets the dates and organises the events?”
“As far as I’m aware, that’s Donna Marie’s job, but I guess Marcus has the overall say. He must have good reason to arrange another one so quickly and in the same hotel. Perhaps he’s testing the interest to accommodate the growing number of members.” She patted her mouth with a long sparkly nail. “Anyway, who cares, as long we get some extracurricular bedroom activity.” Janice winked, sporting a mischievous smile on her thin puce-stained lips.
Lana plonked her bag beside a velvet chaise lounge and Lana sat. “Did you get lucky on Saturday night?” She smiled, watching Janice’s eyes light up.
“Sure did,” Janice cackled, “Some young thing—well, he was thirty-five and full of energy. You?”
Lana sighed. “One guy was a contender, but when I got to the room, my key card wouldn’t work.”
“That’s unusual.” Janice sat back and tapped her nails together making annoying clicking sound like sharp claws.
“I know, right. That’s what I thought. I went home after that.” She shrugged, purposely leaving out the part about Marcus.
“What about, Rory? How did he get on?”
“He had no problem hooking up with some young thing called Jacqueline.”
Janice shifted in her seat and coughed into a curled fist. “Jacqueline Simpson? Black hair, in her twenties?” Her voice changed tone, almost straining.
Lana’s eyebrows pulled together slowly, her brow creasing. “Yes--why?”
“Oh, Lana, she’s an odd one. One of the guys told Justin how she was into weird kinky stuff.”
Lana’s pulse speed up. “Like what?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart, Justin stays clear of her. Rumour has it her husband, Ciaran Simpson is a gangster, a real bad bastard.”
Is that why Rory tried to strangle me?
Janice stood and fixed a caring gaze at Lana. “You’ve gone an unsightly shade of pale, sweetheart. Are you okay?”
Lana’s mouth was dry, her head pounding. “Could you get me a glass of water please?” she asked softly.
Something told her Rory was enjoying the experiment more than he should, that he was getting his kicks with other women because they weren’t compatible.
* * *
That night, Lana soaked in the bath tub, her thoughts spiralling out of control. Rory sold the club to her under the guise of innocent fun. When he brought it up, something felt off.
I should be enough for him. Or maybe I need to be more adventurous. I’m not opposed to the idea of dirty sex—when trust is earned.
Guilt swamped over her. The last time they had sex, Rory tried something new and she blasted him for it. But she didn’t feel comfortable with his hands around her neck. It wasn’t a turn on or even a thrill. She felt out of control.
There was no way she could go to Verto Veneri, especially if that was the sort of thing the men in a swingers club expected. They were all there to experiment—weren’t they?
Aside from that, Marcus was the only man other man she would consider having sex with. That guy clearly wasn’t lacking in skills and experience.
Her ribs tightened. The adventure she started out on with her boyfriend only highlighted the fact she didn’t have that experience. And now she felt even more alone.