Page 14 of Exquisite Taste


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“Not so fast.”

“What, why?”

“I told you before, nothing is free.”

Oh crap. “You mean that spanking shit you just pulled wasn’t payment?”

He ignores my comment. “You want the contract? Well, I want something from you.” I’m not feeling very good about where this is headed. “You’ll sign that contract, offering yourself to me for one night. If you fulfill your contract to me, I’ll let you walk out of here with it.”

Uh, whoa. Hold the phone. “Um, just one minute. I told you before, I’m not some sort of escort.”

“And I’m not looking for one.”

“Then what the hell? I’m not going to be your sex slave for a night. Just because I allowed”—I wave my hands around as if I’m free falling from a mountain—“whatever just happened to happen, doesn’t mean it’s happening ever again.” His eyebrows rise in disbelief. Yes, I would. Ugh. My body’s still tremoring from what just happened. “Listen. I get it. You don’t like me, and I don’t like you. I’m sure you actually have no interest in keeping me hostage for a whole night, you’re just trying to scare me into leaving. But you don’t understand. I…I lied.” His eyebrows rise once again. I go on. “I may have told a little fib to make myself look cooler to a bunch of Barbie wannabes.”

Damien steps forward, crossing his thick arms over his chest. “Explain yourself.”

Sounds a lot easier said than done. “I lied and said I was familiar with sex clubs. Sex. All of this.” I wave my arms around again. “But I’m not.”

“Clearly.”

I dart my narrowed eyes at him, hoping he feels the hatred in them. “I’m not here to prove anything to you, Damien. I just need that contract. They say if I come back with one, proving I’ve got what it takes to come in here and get one, they’ll allow my best friend to pledge.”

“This means nothing to me. Why do I care about your friend? Do you want to pledge?”

“Fuck no! But my best friend sure does. And they kinda have me by the lady balls if I don’t. They’ll ban her, and she’ll hate me.”

“If she’s your friend, she’d understand,” he says with a bored shrug.

“Well, she’s my only friend. And I can’t risk that.” I wish I were a better bluffer, but there’s no hiding the sadness in my tone. Christine will hate me. And I can’t risk losing the only person who’s truly stood by me. I shrug, brushing off any emotions etched on my face. “Either way, can you just give it to me? There’s really no need for me to come back here. Hand it over, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Dropping his arms, he steps back into my personal space. “Take it or leave it. My offer won’t change. It’s up to you how much this friendship is worth. But I’m a busy man. Give me an answer. Now.” He intrudes further into my personal space, forcing me to take a few steps back. When he stops, he leans into me, and I stiffen, unsure of his next move. Reaching over me, he grabs for the doorknob. “What’s it gonna be, Ms. Jensen?”

I want to tell him to shove his contract up his ass, storm out of here, and take my chances on Christine not hating me. Possibly prepare myself for becoming a loner for the next four years of college. I’m trying to build the mental picture of eating alone every day, but Damien’s cologne, once again, seeps into my nostrils, jarring my concentration on planning my future life of solitude.

“I think you should…” His arm brushes against my shoulder as he opens the door. “Should…uh…” God, what was I going to say?

“Should what, Jensen?” Jesus, the way he says my name… My skin breaks out into goose bumps.

“Only one night. That’s it. Then you hand over the contract.”

Damien steps aside from the door. “Be here tomorrow by nine o’clock. Don’t be a second late.”

Did I just make a deal with the devil?

STANDING IN MY USUAL SPOT, gazing down at the congested dance floor, I watch as members grind into one another, their hands petting and groping, unconcerned who sees them. I stare at a couple, the man with his hand up the woman’s skirt, no care that she’s exposing herself. Her lips are parted. Her cheeks flushed. She’s on the brink of an orgasm. He grinds his hand into her to the beat of the music, until her legs go limp, and he wraps his arm around her waist to keep her from falling.

Everywhere my eyes land, the view is filled with sex, lust, and hunger. There are no limitations in my club. The rules are basic. Everything is consensual. When you sign my contract, you give yourself to this club. The atmosphere, the sharing…if that’s what you’re in the mood for. Discreetness is a must, and judgment is not allowed past the front doors. In my club, you get to become whomever you desire.

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