Page 76 of Play Dirty

And there’s confusion. A little bit. And questions painted on their dark faces like the white stripe I painted down Augustine’s torso.

She is naked, save for her stockings and garters. But I take off my coat, then my shirt—as Alexander watches me with curiosity and fascination. His eyes on the muscles of my stomach. His hands automatically reaching out to touch.

I place my shirt over her shoulders and she in turn slips her arms into it. I button her up and reach for Alexander’s pants, tugging on his belt buckle then slipping it through the loops as he continues to watch, and touch, and whisper things like, “Yeah… Yeah.”

I reach around Augustine’s waist, cinching the belt tight against my shirt she’s now wearing. Then I take Alexander’s coat off him, missing his touch when he has to pull away to let the silky lining of the sleeves slip past his arms.

But his fingertips resume their exploration of me. Softly sliding down the muscles of my back as I drape the coat over Augustine’s shoulders and then she slips her arms in, and they slide down the warm silky lining where his arms used to be, and I swear to God, she sighs.

I put my suit coat back on. And now we are a mismatch of clothes. I have no shirt and Alexander has no coat, and she has no dress.

“Let’s go,” I say again, turning away but grabbing her hand as I do that, so I can lead her.

We enter the elevator, leaving the basement behind.

Empty, but still loud with music and whispers.

Dark, but still lit up with black light.

Lonely, because when we leave, when we get to the lobby and exit through the frosted glass revolving door, there’s no one left to play the games this building used to play.

Alexander lingers behind, locking the Club back up with his key. And I lead Augustine to the car parked in what used to be the valet.

We hear a gasp come from off to the right.

Chella’s Tea Room.

Groups of women sitting in the outdoor tables stop sipping their drinks, their mugs and cups paused at their lips as they see something they haven’t seen in a very long time.

Three people exiting the place where they used to play.

“Shit,” Augustine says, acutely aware that she is a woman guilty of carnal pleasures. And we, her men, are missing a coat and a shirt. And the paint. Oh, I bet they miss the paint and all the pleasure it guaranteed them once upon a time. “They’re looking at us. They know.”

And then Alexander is there, opening her door. Eyes locked on mine as she gets into the passenger seat of his sporty black German car.

He says, “Let them look.”

And then he closes her up inside and grins at me.

I nod. Grinning back.

Let them look.

CHAPTER TWELVE

We fucked hard last night.

And softly too.

It was heated and passionate. But there must be some truth to Alexander’s dark side, because he did come very close to crossing a few lines.

The choking came first. Then the slapping. First her ass. Which made her moan for more. Then her face, which made her come.

But I stepped in. Unsure how much truth there was to that lie they told.

Late that night, or maybe it was early this morning, we took a shower. I finished first, exhausted and ready to climb between the sheets of their bed.

Our bed?