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I’m not a prude, but I also don’t think I’m on sex club level either.
Tessa looks in the mirror and fakes fixing her lipstick. “Didn’t I mention that earlier?”
“No, T, if you’d mentioned a sex club, I’m pretty sure I’d remember that.”
She scratches her neck. “Hm…odd, I could have sworn I said something.”
Liar. And there goes my shot of seeing Cash tonight. I’m almost positive he’s not going to a sex club tonight, and he’s going to be livid when he finds out I did. Shit. “T, I have to call Cash.”
She meets my eyes in the mirror and shrugs. “We aren’t going into the actual sex part of it.”
“What does that even mean?” I say in an exasperated voice. “Are we or are we not going to a sex club?”
“The downstairs is just a high-end club…the area we aren’t going into—the invitation only part—I’ve heard that’s a sex club.”
I sigh dramatically. “You are exhausting. So you have no idea if this place is a sex club?”
She smirks. “I’ve heard enough gossip to know what I know. Now let’s go. I want to get there early enough to see if we can sneak our way upstairs.”
I laugh as I follow her. The last thing I want is to sneak anywhere with my best friend. But somehow I have a feeling she’ll be getting into that reserved space.
“This place is so cool,” Eliza whispers as all of us look around the club. She’s not wrong; this place is incredible. The walls glow red, and gorgeous chandeliers hang from the ceiling in varying heights and sizes. It feels like a speakeasy with the low lights, high fashion, and waitresses walking around wearing tassels and carrying overflowing glasses of champagne.
“How is this legal?” I ask, always the voice of reason.
Tessa gives me an appropriately annoyed look and smacks my ass. “Stop worrying for once in your life and just live in the moment.”
Not for nothing, but I’ve been doing a lot of living in the moment. But I don't point it out because I don’t want to bring attention back to me. Every time I’ve been out with these women over the last few weeks, it has either been about my divorce, my inability to be with the man I wanted, or my newfound sex life. It’s time to focus on them.
“We’ll take some of these,” Tessa says, grabbing champagne glasses off the waitress’s tray and winking as she hands one to each of us.
“Do you think those things hurt?” I ask Eliza as my eyes dart to the tassels again.
The waitress shakes her head. “These ones are soft…now the ones upstairs…” She winks and walks off with a laugh.
“Ha!” Tessa screeches proudly. “I told you there’s something going on upstairs!”
Laughter shakes my chest as I sip my champagne and look around the room. He’s not here yet. I’m almost positive. Not only because I would be able to feel his presence, but because the James boys don’t go anywhere without attracting a crowd. Even in a room like this, so clearly filled with men who are recognizable, or who have wallets that are recognizable, the James brothers will stand out.
There are enough people that the space feels electric but not crowded. There is room to move around, to watch, and plenty of couches and seating to relax. We pick a red velvet one to sit down and sip our champagne while we take in the festivities.
“Do you really think there are people having sex upstairs?” Eliza asks me under her breath, not wanting to draw Tessa’s attention. God forbid you doubt our leader.
My shoulders lift ever so slightly in a shrug. “No idea.”
An hour later the music is still pumping, the space has become more crowded, and the drinks have switched from champagne to shots. The music pulses through my body, or maybe it’s the tequila, but either way, I am buzzed and anxious. I haven’t spotted Cash, but I have seen more things than I’d like to admit. Women seem less inhibited, their gazes dipping to the space between my breasts and focusing on the cleavage I’m bearing thanks to the silk halter top Tessa forced me to purchase and wear without a bra. Even Eliza has been more forward, drawing circles against my bare arm as she sits next to me, biting her lip and looking out at the dance floor. I’m pretty sure she’s turned on by the belly-dancing waitresses in the center of the room.
In a twist of events even I wouldn’t have predicted, I’m turned on too.
Feeling all sorts of strange, I beg off to the bathroom in search of a moment to catch my breath.
In the privacy of the bathroom, I fix my lipstick and take out my phone to shoot Cash a text. Me: I think I made a big mistake.
My phone screen lights up almost immediately.
Cash: Because you chose to go out with your girlfriends rather than spending the night with me and coming on my tongue?
I squeeze my legs together and look around the bathroom, feeling exposed even though no one can see my screen. The girl next to me gives me an odd look, and I realize she’s trying to get to the sink.I move to the corner, sitting down on a black settee, and cross my legs as I plot my reply.
