Turning Point Club Box Set

by JA Huss

  But then… somehow… Alexander has crossed the room and he’s right up next to me. His bare chest pressing against mine as he leans in, grabs my face, and kisses me.

  I’m so surprised I can’t even decide what I should do about this. Like… pull away? Or kiss him back? And then Augustine is sliding under Alexander’s arm, inserting herself between us.

  “Don’t leave now,” she says, her hands on Alexander’s, which are still holding my face. She leans up on her tiptoes and begins kissing us. Both of us, as he kisses me and…

  Jesus. I should walk. I’ve done so well so far. Keeping my distance from this train wreck of a relationship.

  But her hand is on my cock and… and when I break away, out of the kiss, and look down, her hand is on his cock too.

  And isn’t this what I’ve wanted? Maybe not them, but this?

  I don’t have time to think it through.

  Augustine crouches down, her legs spread open, her fingers deftly unbuttoning and unzipping my pants. And then she’s got both our cocks fisted in her palms. Stroking us. Up and down and squeezing tight.

  Alexander grabs her hair, pulling it hard. But when I look at him, his eyes are closed. And I know… God, I just fucking know… he’s not paying attention anymore. Not like he was during their little demonstration.

  And it has become my job to keep him in check.

  The moment Augustine’s mouth wraps around the head of his cock, he pushes her towards him. His hips rocking forward, making her take him deep. She gags and tries to pull back, but he holds her there. She lets go of my dick, reaches up for his forearm, and claws her fingernails down his skin.

  Alexander hisses and pulls back, which allows Augustine to pivot and concentrate on me.

  Oh, God. Her mouth on my tip feels excruciatingly good. And when she opens wide and puts me inside her… the warm and the wet… and the sucking…

  And then Alexander is there, kneeling down behind her, his hand in her hair again, pushing her into me now.

  Making her take me.

  Making her gag on me.

  And for a split second I don’t see what he’s doing. I don’t realize what he’s doing. I am too fully encapsulated in lust and desire to realize he’s dragging me over to his side. Distracting me from my job by letting his wife pleasure me.

  “Stop,” I say, my voice hoarse.

  But when I look at him he just smiles. Shakes his head a little. And then he kisses me.

  I forget about August. Just… I don’t know. Just let her drift away. Her mouth, my cock deep in her throat. The warm saliva pooling up against my shaft as Alexander reaches underneath my balls and cups them in his hand.

  Holy fucking—

  And then he punches me.

  Right in the fucking mouth.

  I snap.

  Out of the lust. Out of the passion. Out of the desire.

  And I back away, my cock slipping from Augustine’s mouth as I swing and hit him back.

  He ducks and rushes me, barreling into my chest until I reel backwards, slamming into a wall, just barely able to stop myself from falling.

  They approach me. Slowly, as a team. Like two lions looking for a kill.

  “What the fuck?” I ask. But when he’s within reach, I swing again, and this time… this time that motherfucker goes down.

  I climb on top of him, my cock swinging, my pants around my knees, and then his hand finds my dick, and Augustine is crouching, her pussy right over his face.

  And I’m ashamed to admit this, even just to myself… but I swear to God this is hot. I’m turned on. Like rock-hard cock.

  I go down on him. My mouth taking him, pressing forward the way he just showed me he likes it. Augustine is bending over a little, her ass right in front of me, his fingers probing between her legs, stroking her as she moves back and forth, fucking his face.

  I pull her backward, roughly—too roughly and I’ll have to think about that later, because there’s no room for that now—making her squeal. I scoot her ass down until she’s right over Alexander’s dick and after that, she doesn’t need any more hints.

  She sits down on his cock, her back arched, practically begging me to pull her hair.

  So I do. And when I pull too hard, she twists around, reaching back to slap my face. I swat her hand away and push her forward until she falls onto Alexander’s chest.

  I lean down, swipe my tongue around the rim of her ass, then spit and massage it in with my fingertips. I scoot up, Alexander’s leg between mine, my balls dragging across his thighs, and push my cock inside her.

  “Oh,” she moans. “Oh, oh, oh….”

  We are sweaty. Hot and slick. Alexander stops to let me find my way past his huge cock already inside her, and then we both begin. Slowly. Just small pushes and pulls. Barely moving.

  Augustine is making noises I’ve never heard before. Not even when we used to do this all those years ago. I grab her hair, pull her up off his chest, forcing her to arch her back, and then wrap my other hand around her throat so I can hold her in place so I can kiss her and fuck her at the same time.

  She comes.

  There’s no way she can’t.

  This is what she wants. What she’s been missing.

  This is why I’m necessary.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I didn’t stay the night. I probably should’ve. Might’ve even enjoyed it, but staying the night is a big step forward and I’m not sure I want to move forward.

  This completes them, fine. But what’s it do for me? Aside from make my life more complicated?

  I mean look, these two people are married. They don’t want to get a divorce. They’re so committed to each other they have decided adding a third is the only way to save what they have.

  That’s their goal.

  Augustine has already tried to call me several times this morning and I’ve let them all go to voicemail. And I’m not at home or work, so she can’t pop up and find me. At least not yet.

  I just need some space to try to figure out if I want to participate. I need to think. I need…

  My phone buzzes in my pocket, interrupting my thoughts. It’s probably them, so when I take out my phone and check the screen, I’m pleasantly surprised to see Ixion’s name come up.

  “Ix,” I say. “What’s up?”

  “Hey, you free right now? Or you busy?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m asking.”

  Fucking Ixion. “Sure. What do ya need?”

  “Meet me at the Mile High Cafe in half an hour.” And then the call ends with three quick beeps.

  Hmmm. What’s this about?

  I’m sitting in a booth on the second floor of the Barrister Club. I’m not a paying member, but I’m on my father’s list of permanent guests. And it’s a great place to hide when you don’t want to be disturbed. Plus, it’s right across the street from the courthouse, so it’s the perfect place to go between court cases and, as a bonus, the Mile High Cafe is like a five-minute walk from here.

  Which gives me plenty of time to sit and stew on this impromptu phone call from Ixion. Lots of time to wonder what he’s up to. Did Augustine call him? Tell him what we did last night? Is he going to warn me? Or scold me? Or tell me to back away?

  I have no clue. But I can picture him doing all three, so…

  When I get to the cafe Ixion already has a table near the back. So I point to him when the hostess asks me for my name. This place is crazy busy at lunch and there is almost always a wait if you’re not just picking up an order.

  I weave my way through the tables and take the seat across from him, thankful for the ceiling fan directly above us, because today is just a little bit too warm.

  Ixion looks good. More like himself than I’ve seen him in almost a decade. He played a game a few months ago. Well, that’s not technically true. I hired him to do surveillance on a woman named Evangeline Rolaine. A crazy violin child prodigy who couldn’t perform on stage anymore because the thought of being wat
ched terrified her. Her therapist, Lucinda Chatwell, set this game up, so it was more like treatment than a game.

  Until Ixion fucked it all up, that is.

  But hey, he fixed her. And they’re still together so I count that as a win.

  “What’s up?” I say.

  “Question for you,” Ixion says.

  “A question? Why didn’t you just ask me on the phone?”

  “Because I haven’t seen you in a couple weeks and I wanted to check in.”

  “You’re worried about me?” I ask, unable to hide my smile or the chuckle that comes out with it.

  “A little bit,” he says, holding his thumb and forefinger about a centimeter apart. “But first… you still have access to that house?”

  “Which one? The mansion next to the gardens?”

  “Yeah, the one we played our game in.”

  “Yeah, I’m kinda… living there at the moment.”

  “Oh,” he says, considering this. Ixion is a fuck-hot dude. I’m kinda into dudes. Not all the way into dudes, but I appreciate the addition of another guy in a relationship. Which is why Augustine and Alexander came to me, right?

  Well, anyway. Ixion is hot. He’s got a nice build. One of those tough guys who wears jeans and t-shirts and rides a motorcycle. But the guy is fucking loaded. His family was killed in a car crash years ago, right after all that shit went down in LA, so he inherited everything. I don’t even know how much money this guy actually has because he never talks about it. Never spends it either. At least not on himself. And it occurs to me… “Why?” I ask. “You wanna buy it?”

  Ixion chews his lip like he’s not sure. And then he says, “Maybe. I’m not sure. Evangeline is sorta fixated on it.”

  “Oh,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “Fixated how?”

  “Like… she can’t stop talking about that family, ya know? All those photographs and stuff. She keeps bugging me to ask you who they are.”

  “I dunno.” I shrug. “I bought the house on foreclosure last year. These old historic mansions almost never come up for sale so I snatched it up because… fuck, I have no idea why I bought that stupid house. None. Just… an impulse buy, I guess.”

  Ixion laughs. “A seven-million-dollar impulse?”

  “I didn’t want anyone else to have it.”

  He laughs louder. Because spending seven million dollars just to get something no one else has is so… me.

  “But if you’re interested in buying it, I’m definitely selling. It was a dumb idea. And I’m house-poor now and I hate it.”

  “Well, I don’t know, man. It might be too big, ya know?”

  “Tell me about it. I live in the fucking office. And I sold all the furniture so the whole place is empty.”

  “You sold everything?” Ix asks.

  “Yeah.”

  “What about the photos?”

  “I boxed them up and sent them over to Lawton’s office. What he did with them, I have no clue. Why?”

  Ixion chews his cheek for a second, thinking. “Evangeline is just obsessed. Wants to know who they are. You don’t know anything?”

  “No. The bank owned the house when I bought it. Their name wasn’t on any of the papers.”

  “Huh. Well, I guess I’ll have to look into it.”

  “Why’s she want to know this stuff?” I ask.

  “Well,” Ixion says, then stops, like he’s choosing his words carefully. “She was slightly obsessed with the family, ya know? The whole fantasy that place kinda encapsulates. I mean the house is goddamned gorgeous. And the gardens, in the backyard and next door. It’s just very… perfect. She’s fixated on the reason why that family left everything behind. Like, at first she thought it was like a summer home. Like maybe they lived somewhere else in the winters. But then she found out you actually owned the house, which blew that theory out of the water. So every day she’s got some crazy made-up story about who these people are and where they went.”

  “Wow,” I say, unsure what to think about all that. “She’s definitely got one of those obsessive personalities, doesn’t she?”

  Ixion smiles, like this is just one of those quirks he loves about her. “Just a little bit. But I have another question for you. Since we’re here.”

  “Shoot,” I say, kinda loving this interaction with Ixion. It feels like maybe we turned a corner. That the past is the past and now we’re… I dunno. We’ve forged a new, different kind of relationship.

  “What the fuck are you doing with Augustine?”

  “Shit, man.” I sigh, shaking my head. “I don’t know. She’s all up in my face. Wants me to help her and Alexander…” I shrug. Because I don’t really know how to explain this.

  “Wants you to help them do what?”

  “Like… fix their marriage? I swear, Ixion, I’m not playing here, but I feel very much like I’m playing a game. They have turned into a couple of very fucked-up people.”

  “And a part of you wonders if you’re to blame?” Ix asks.

  And the funny thing is… I don’t think he meant that to be mean. I seriously think he just said it because he really thinks that’s what’s on my mind. “No.” I huff. “Look, OK. So I lied a little back in LA. So I set you and her up just to piss off Alexander and break them apart. I get it. I was a dick. I’ve apologized. I walked away, left them alone, started over, tried to make good, changed my ways, blah, blah, blah. And they got married, and moved on, and separated, and got back together. Whatever. It’s their life. Whatever this is they’re into now has nothing to do with me.”

  “Wow,” Ixion says, leaning back in his chair. “You’re a little bit defensive, dude.”

  I lean in, my elbows on the table, and look him straight in the eyes. “They are a couple of fucked-up people, OK? And yeah, OK, so are we. Fine. We’re all a little fucked up. But the shit they want me to do with them, Ixion. It’s fuckin’ weird.”

  “Weird how?” he asks, leaning forward again.

  I’m not sure I should even try to explain it. At least to him. I should call Lucinda and get her opinion. She’s the therapist who set up Evangeline’s “treatment” and the whole reason why Ixion and Evangeline are together.

  “Just tell me,” he says. “I’ve already seen the weird and the ugly with you guys.”

  “Don’t classify me with them. I mean, OK, I’ve got my weird and ugly side too. But don’t classify me with them.”

  “Shit, must be serious.”

  I sigh, then ease forward again so now we’re both leaning forward on the table. “Have you ever heard of… people… or like… a fetish where people…”

  “Just fucking spit it out,” Ix says.

  “Where people get off on fighting each other?”

  His head does that taken-aback thing and he frowns. “Fight? Like… argue?”

  “No,” I say. “Not like argue. Like slapping and shit?” And then he’s about to say something and I already know what he’s going to say, so I put up a hand to stop him. “No, not like a dominant-submissive thing, either. Because that’s not the dynamic. There’s no top or bottom. It’s like equal top and bottom at all times.”

  “Like… they get off on hitting each other?” He’s squinting his eyes.

  I nod. “Yeah. She wants him to slap her, but he wants her to hit him back. And he refuses to engage anymore because… I dunno, he lost control once and so never again. So he stopped fucking her, I guess. Only gets her off other ways. And now they want me to join them so I can control Alexander while they play this fucking fight game with each other.”

  “Wow,” Ix says, leaning back in his chair.

  “Right?”

  He makes this little whistle noise. “Yeah, that’s weird.”

  “I think so too. But I’m gonna ask Lucinda about it. Because, get this. Fucking Augustine owns the old Turning Point Club building and I want to buy it and reopen the club, but she won’t sell it to me unless I give this whole sexual moderator thing a try for three weeks.”

  “
Hmmm,” Ix says.

  I sigh. But I feel a lot better telling this shit to Ix. Feels good, actually. To talk to him like a friend again and not have all the animosity between us.

  “What happened to them?” Ixion asks.

  “I dunno,” I say. “But they make me feel responsible.”

  “That’s bullshit. You walked away eight years ago. What they did with all that time between then and now is all on them. I mean, look, I had a pretty rough several years too. But it wasn’t you who did that to me.”

  It’s the first time he’s ever hinted that he might be able to forgive me. So I stay quiet and let him talk.

  “I mean… yeah. I did a lot of stupid shit and I was sad, but my sadness had nothing to do with you. And even though it didn’t feel like I moved on, I did move on, Jordan. Maybe what I was doing wasn’t like… a proper future or anything. But it was honest. Ya know?”

  “I get it,” I say. “And I’m so fucking sorry, man. I really—”

  “You had nothing to do with the death of my family,” he says, interrupting me.

  Even though I’ve been waiting years for this confession from him, hearing it now… it fucking hurts.

  “You didn’t kill them. It was a stupid car accident. And if it’s anyone’s fault, it was that person who hit them.”

  “But they died thinking you were some really fucked-up creep and that part was all my fault. You took the fucking blame for me, Ixion. And I never deserved your protection like that. I never earned it.”

  He does a one-shoulder shrug. “It’s in the past, man. Where it belongs. So just leave it there. I’m fine. I’m actually pretty fucking happy these days. And if you hadn’t flown up to Wyoming and pulled my ass out of jail that day and told me to get my shit together because I was needed, I’d still be a worthless piece of shit. That job you gave me watching Evangeline was the very best-case scenario as far as the whole where-is-Ixion’s-life-going scenario is concerned.”

  He reaches across the table, grabs my hair and pulls me close to him.

  I am too startled—too afraid—to breathe.

  He bumps his forehead to mine, then retreats. “It could’ve gone a million ways, ya know?”