AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But I don’t want to put my ratty jeans jacket over the long, silk halter dress the guys got me. And I also don’t want to park close enough to their house that anyone might see me exiting my junky car.
So, I drive past Greyson’s house two times until I’m certain which home in this tony neighborhood is his, and then up a hill and around a corner with the brilliant plan of walking back to the party he invited me to.
A party that, in truth, I am not actually allowed to attend.
Since I started working at Club Sin, from the time I was the cleaning person to now, working exclusively in Room 21, it has been drilled into my head that seeing clients outside the club is strictly forbidden.
But, having guessed my size perfectly, Greyson bought me this amazing teal-blue dress, he says because it matches my eyes. So, I figure I can risk my cushy setup to wear it once. Just once, to see where he lives, and to spend time with the guys outside Club Sin. I’m breaking rules, something I’ve been doing so much lately I’m not even sure anymore where the rules start and stop, because I’m just plowing ahead trying to figure things out on my own. Rules haven’t served me well to this point. Maybe they never will.
Greyson also asked me to help him host his party. Which I thought was strange but sweet.
Me, host a party? He has no idea about the kinds of parties I’m used to—the ones with cake and punch, and shy conversation between boys and girls, all zealously overseen by hawkeyed parents.
He has assured me that all I have to do, basically, is be his date. Hang out with him, chat with his guests, and help make sure everyone has a drink.
He says it will be just a few close friends, including Max and Rowan, and that I’ll be perfectly comfortable. I wonder for a moment if this is another role play no one’s telling me about beforehand. And if it is, that’s fine. I’m ready this time.
I’m ready for anything, actually.
The guys have taken to fucking me—I’m using that word fairly freely now—individually and sometimes all together. They tell Gwen they like me, which she happily reports back, taking credit as if she was the one dressing up and having sex with them.
I don’t place a lot of credence in the information she shares. The three men are handsome and rich and can have any woman or women they want. I am under no illusion I am anything to them but a toy, a fun distraction to pass the time until they tire of me and move on to someone else. I haven’t been around the club all that long, and there are a lot of things I don’t know about life. But I am not stupid.
And it’s fine. Really. I enjoy the attention, the sex, and the money. Through it all, I cling to my thrifty lifestyle, my plan, and save the bulk of my earnings. I consider myself lucky to have gotten this break.
That is, when I’m not thinking about the sinfulness of it. Which is less and less as time passes.
Walking up the pathway to Greyson’s front door, shivering, I’m careful not to break my neck on the brick pavers, barely lit up in the night time darkness. That’s all I need, for my heels—another gift from Greyson—to catch between them and catapult me and my perfect dress head first onto his manicured front lawn.
I pause before pressing his doorbell, trying not to mentally assess all the things I am doing wrong at that moment, and hoping against hope to hide my shivering until I warm up and am comfortable again. Maybe I’ll even have a glass of champagne—or two. When I tried it before, it sent a wave of heat through me that left a light sweat on my forehead. I’d welcome that warmth right now.
Greyson’s door flies open, and I gasp, with any luck not too loudly. He’s justthatperfect in his black bowtie. “Here she is,” he proclaims, making me feel like a million dollars, taking my hand and ushering me in the door. “Where’s your coat, darling?” he asks, rubbing his hands over my shoulders to warm me.
I wave off his question, something I’m learning to do quite skillfully. Someone asks a question you don’t want to answer?
Smile, laugh, and just don’t respond.
“Oh, I left it in the car. Didn’t want to forget it, you know?” I say breezily, gobbling up his touch and wishing he could rub more than just my shoulders.
Down girl.
He throws a casual arm around my shoulder, and for a moment, I feel likehis girl. I am important to him. He likes me and even loves me at least a little. He looks good and I look good and everything in the world is perfect. Forever.
“Where is everybody?” I ask, looking around his cavernous entryway and the winding staircase beyond.
I’ve never been in a house like this before. No big surprise there. The walls are covered in beautiful, polished wood, hung with huge paintings, mostly what I guess would be called ‘modern’ art. I’m not really sure. In the middle of the tiled black and white floor, which kind of reminds me of a checkerboard, there is a large round table with an enormous arrangement of flowers.
I didn’t think guys had flowers in their houses.
Maybe it’s a rich-person sort of thing?
So, this is how these guys live. The members of Club Sin. I tried to imagine what their homes would be like. But in all my imagination, I never pictured anything quite like this. It reminds me of a magazine I used to see at the public library for architects or some such.
“The guys are in the library, this way,” he says, gently directing me toward two large, closed doors.
He has alibrary? In hishouse?
“Great,” I say, fake-cheerfully.
