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Couples of all shapes and sizes brush past us, whispering low words of approval and admiration.
“Thank you,” Ricco says, nodding as we walk by everyone but don’t stop to talk to anyone. I’m grateful for once that I don’t have to respond, that the burden of any socialization is on him. I tuck my head against his shoulder and allow myself to be led.
And it’s so fucking nice. To not have to think, to decide, to orchestrate and plan, to just… let him take care of me.
I’m aware of the respect the others here show him as we walk, voices reverent and respectful when they address him. Ricco is a man people admire and respect.
Hell, I have to admit I admire and respect him myself. It’s hard not to.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Here.” Ricco presses his thumb against a panel, and a lock disengages with a muted snick. Opening the door, he gestures for me to enter.
Laughter bubbles up inside me. “It’s… what is this place?”
With a casual shrug that belies the look of pride on his face, he gestures to the room.
“My private room,” he says quietly. “Dani, I want you to know something before we enter. I’ve never brought anyone here before.”
There’s an elephant in the room we haven’t discussed. And even though I don’t want to throw cold water on anything that’s happening here, I have to admit… I don’t want to proceed without my questions being answered.
“You told me once that you and your wife married because of your family. So, when you say no one’s come here you mean…”
Ricco’s jaw hardens, but he doesn’t shy away from the truth. “Martina never set foot in Bella Notte,” he says quietly, shutting the door behind us. We’re immediately submersed in complete quiet, as if the room is cocooned in a bubble. “She was my best friend, Dani. The mother of my son. But we were not lovers.”
My heart breaks a little. I know how painful it is to be in a loveless marriage, even if his was more friendly than mine was. He still denied his own needs.
He continues. “Anyway, the club opened up long after Martina became sick and was diagnosed, so she wouldn’t have come here no matter what.”
My conflicting emotions are starting to strangle me. On the one hand, I'm thrilled that I’m not “replacing” his wife or anything weird like that. I know that Ricco has probably lived many lives before I met him. We haven't gotten too much into his past, but I know that he's loyal to his family and he married Martina out of loyalty.
I even know that he saw his marriage to her through until the bitter end, until she succumbed to illness.
I’m starting to feel a little guilty that I haven’t been totally honest with him. He doesn't really know why I'm here. He doesn't know anything about my husband. All he knows is that I’m a widow.
I don't know if I can continue to look for the answers I was hoping to find here, not when I'm with Ricco.
"You look troubled."
I plaster a smile on my face because I love being with Ricco. I love feeling like a woman. And I don't want to pretend that I'm here for any other reason anymore.
"I have… conflicting emotions."
"I understand." I can tell he has conflicting emotions of his own, though I have no idea what they are.
"It takes a lot to submit. It takes a lot of courage. And sometimes you have to battle that voice in your head telling you that it isn't right. I know all about that, too."
"Ricco, I…"
My fears finally choke me, and I don't know what else to say. Fortunately, I don't have to say anything, because the next moment, his mouth is on mine, his hands tangled in my hair. Once again, that familiar tug sends awareness and excitement tingling all through my body. But now we're alone, blissfully alone, and I have nowhere else to be tonight.
I am his first lover, and Ricco is my dream man, and that's all I need to know.
He lays me on the bed. And I'm vaguely aware of a few interesting facts about this room.
First, this bed is on a platform. Not sure why, but something tells me I'm going to find out. Second, there's a waterfall in here, lending an atmosphere that's exotic, and private, because the sound of the waterfall drowns out anything else outside this door.
Third, this is a sex club. This is Ricco's private room at a sex club. And he's never brought anyone in here before.
Why does he have a private room in a sex club?
"So, tell me," I say, as he guides the edge of my blouse up and spans my waist with his strong, powerful hands. I push through with the need to ask questions when all I want to do is live in the moment, savor every second he’s worshipping me.
