by Erika Wilde
“In the meantime, I’m going to get started on these three rooms,” she went on, back to business as she tapped her tablet to turn it back on so she could type something into it. “The first two I can get started on immediately since most of the props and décor I can find pretty easily myself. But I’ll need to hire someone who is really good with leather upholstery for the Red Room design, since the bed, wall, and flooring will all have to be a custom job.” She glanced up from the small computer. “Is there any budget you want me to stick to for all six rooms?”
He shrugged and gave her a six-figure number that made her eyes go gleefully wide.
“This is going to be so much fun!” she declared as she walked past him and out of the room.
He exhaled a harsh breath as he followed behind her. No, Mac was pretty sure the next month with this woman was going to be pure torture.
Chapter Three
“Which one should I get for the masquerade party?” Paige asked, holding up two different dresses for Stephanie and their other friend, Kendall, to see. “The dark blue, or the deep purple one?”
“The purple dress,” Stephanie said at the same time that Kendall did, making the decision for Paige a unanimous and easy one.
“I’m surprised you’re not wearing one of your corsets,” Stephanie said as she continued strolling through the trendy boutique filled with sexy club wear, trying to find a dress that would knock Mac’s pants off when he saw her at the club on Saturday night.
Paige shrugged. “You know I love my corsets,” she said of the high-end intimate apparel pieces she custom made and sold to a growing clientele. “But for the masquerade party, I want to surprise Sawyer and wear something he’d never expect. Something slutty that will make his jaw drop when he sees me in it.”
“That purple dress ought to do the trick,” Kendall said in amusement, looking completely out of place in the boutique with her eight-and-a-half-month pregnant belly.
“Agreed,” Stephanie seconded.
Paige was an extra-curvy girl, and since marrying her husband, Sawyer, who adored every inch of her, she’d gained the confidence to embrace her hourglass figure. The dress she’d chosen was made of a soft, slinky fabric, with a low-cut, deep V cowl neck in front that could easily result in a nip-slip if she wasn’t careful, and a nearly nonexistent back except for the material that would cover her ass. Yeah, more than Sawyer’s jaw would be dropping when he saw his wife.
“I think Saturday should be all about embracing our inner sluts,” Paige suggested with a grin. “Harlot dresses, bend-me-over-and-fuck-me shoes, the whole works.”
Kendall groaned. “The last thing I’m feeling these days is slutty, even if Jase finds this whole pregnancy thing sexy. But you know I’m here for moral support because there will be no sex clubbing for me for a while.”
“Ahh, you’re such a good friend,” Paige said with a laugh before glancing at Stephanie. “Since it’s your first time at The Players Club, I think you need to look the sluttiest of us all because it’ll drive Mac insane.”
Stephanie kind of liked that idea. Their mutual attraction wasn’t a secret to any of their close friends—hers or his—but Mac’s stubborn refusal to give in to the chemistry between them was frustrating as hell, though she’d been pleased to see a few fractures in his façade a few days ago during the consultation at the club. He definitely wanted her, but he was being incredibly stubborn about giving in to temptation.
Jillian had once told her that Mac might have an issue with their eleven-year age difference, but the fact that he was older and more mature in his late thirties was incredibly appealing to Stephanie. Her last long-term relationship had been with a man her own age, and it had been his insecurities and ultimately his selfish, egotistical demands that had prompted her to walk away after two years together. It was a decision she’d never regretted, because she knew she would have been miserable had she given in to his ultimatum to choose him over her career that was just on the cusp of taking off.
Stephanie had always been strong and independent and she’d never needed a man in her life to take care of her. Nor would she ever let any man dictate what she could or couldn’t do in real life, or try to transform her into something she wasn’t and knew she never would be. But have a little fun with someone as hot and gorgeous as Mac, who could make her panties melt right off with just one smoldering glance? Oh, yes, please, sign her up.
She wasn’t ashamed to admit that she was a woman who enjoyed sex, and it had been much too long since she’d indulged. The thought of having a fling with Mac, a man who was experienced in pleasuring a woman, made her feel breathless with anticipation. She wasn’t looking for forever if that’s what Mac was concerned about, but a no-strings-attached fling would benefit both of them and ease the sexual tension that seemed to burn hotter and brighter each and every time they were in the same vicinity together. At some point, it was bound to turn explosive.
When it came to Mac, her sexual curiosity was piqued in a way it had never been before. He was a man who was always in control of himself, so disciplined that no matter what outrageous thing she said or did, he managed to remain outwardly calm and unaffected. He was deliciously alpha, and she’d spent a lot of nights thinking about what it would be like to be on the receiving end of all that power and dominance she sensed beneath his cool composure.
She’d already decided that Saturday night at the club was her chance to finally find out, so yeah, a slutty, you-know-you-want-to-fuck-me dress was in order.
“Hey, ladies!” Raina’s upbeat voice rang out, causing the three of them to glance toward the entrance, where she and Jillian were heading toward them at the back of the boutique. “Sorry we’re late. There was an accident on the freeway.”
There were hugs all the way around. The five of them had become incredibly close over the past few years, their friendship forming because of the decision to cross-promote their businesses. Raina owed Sugar and Spice, an upscale adult boutique. Paige sold custom-made corsets. Kendall was an amazing boudoir photographer, and Stephanie created fantasy bedrooms. Jillian worked for Stephanie, but she was still an integral part of the group.
They’d used to meet at least once a month for their Cocktails and Cocks social club that they’d formed on a whim, but lately everyone had become so busy with work, their husbands, and life in general—which sort of left Stephanie as the odd woman out since she was the only one still single. So any chance she had to hang out with her best girlfriends, she was all in.
Paige flashed a grin at Raina and Jillian. “Now that you two are here, you should know we’ve decided that our theme for the masquerade party is going to be ‘who’s the sluttiest of them all.’”
Raina laughed. “Sounds like fun. Count me in. I’m all about embracing my inner slut, and I’m sure there’ll be no complaints from Logan,” she said of her hunky husband.
“I’m in, too,” Jillian echoed, though her smile was a bit wicked as she added, “Dean has a thing for slutty, naughty girls.”
“Stephanie,” Kendall said suddenly, excitement infusing her voice as she pulled a hanger from one of the nearby racks. “I found your dress!”
Everyone turned to check out what Kendall was holding, and Stephanie couldn’t argue that the outfit was completely and totally . . . slutty. The scarlet-red material made it even more so.
“Oh, damn,” Raina murmured, impressed with Kendall’s pick. “You need to try it on, Steph, because that dress is screaming your name.”
Paige smirked. “Better yet, it’ll have you screaming someone else’s name by the end of the night.”
Jillian nodded in agreement. “At the very least, it’s guaranteed to get you a whole lot of male attention, and you’ll have your pick of which lucky guy gets to peel you out of that dress and end your dry spell.”
Stephanie only wanted the attention of one man, and while she didn’t think the dress itself would have Mac making a move on her, she was hoping it would at least help her cause
a little bit. The possibility of making Mac’s feigned indifference to her finally snap, even a fraction, was a heady thought, because that was her plan for Saturday evening.
“Go try it on so we can see it on you,” Kendall said, handing her the hanger.
The other three women urged her on, as well, so Stephanie had the saleslady open a dressing room for her. After stripping down to her panties—because wearing a bra wasn’t an option—she removed the tube dress made of spandex from the hanger, which was essentially a stretchy scrap of fabric that would mold to her body from breasts to thighs. Each side of the dress was cut out and held together with thin bands of fabric in a crisscross design and accented with sparkly rhinestones.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the small circle of material and shimmied the little ensemble up over her hips, then tugged it along her waist and higher over her girls. The spandex snapped into place above the swell of her breasts, and dear God, the dress clung to her like a second skin.
She looked into the mirror and her eyes nearly popped out of her head. “Holy shit,” she whispered to the reflection staring back at her. She’d worn some sexy dresses over the years, but this one might have just surpassed slutty and entered hooker territory. She pressed her fingers to her lips to hold in a giggle.
It was like being wrapped in Spanx . . . which did wonders for her figure, smoothing out any imperfections and sucking her stomach in flat. Which made her boobs look even bigger, and her ass better than she’d ever seen it before—except for the fact that the outline of her thong was showing through. Between the tight material and cut-outs on both sides that displayed ample amounts of bare skin, there was no way she could even wear panties with this dress.
“What’s taking you so long?” Paige asked from the other side of the door. “That was the tiniest dress I think I’ve ever seen, so you should have it on by now.”
“Oh, I do have it on,” she said back, her tone wry. “I’m just a little worried that I might get cited for indecent exposure . . . or prostitution.”
Raina laughed. “Trust us, there is no such thing as indecent exposure at The Players Club. As for looking like a prostitute, well, that will work to your advantage,” she added humorously.
“Now show us already,” Kendall insisted. “We’re dying out here. Even the little man is kicking and fussing because he’s getting impatient, too,” she said of the active baby boy in her belly.
“Okay . . .” she said, a warning note in her voice as she started opening the door. “Here I come.”
As soon as she stepped out, Paige gasped and Kendall’s eyes grew comically round. Raina surveyed her with a sly smile and a critical eye, and Jillian’s mouth had dropped open.
“Oh, my God,” Kendall uttered in shock. “That dress is so . . . ”
“Slutty?” Stephanie provided with a laugh.
“I think you look fucking hot,” Raina said, motioning in a circle with her finger to indicate that Stephanie give them the 360 view, which she did.
“If I were a guy, I’d totally do you,” Paige said with an agreeable nod. “And Jesus, you have great-looking tits. They’re so firm and perky.”
“Thank you,” Stephanie said, because what else was there to say to that?
“I saw something in the glass case at the counter that will look amazing with that dress,” Jillian said as she started that way. “I’ll be right back.”
Paige grinned. “And I’m going to grab a pair of heels for you to try on to give us the full slutty effect.”
Within a few minutes, Stephanie was accessorized and directed toward the three-way mirror outside of the dressing room. Her gaze started at her feet, taking in the black, street-walker stilettos that laced up around her ankles . . . then her eyes traveled up her legs that looked endlessly long thanks to the ridiculously short hem that hugged her thighs. Then there were those sexy cutouts that barely held the dress together on both sides, and around her neck Jillian had secured a two-inch rhinestone choker that looked surprisingly gorgeous and elegant.
Stephanie smirked as she touched her fingers to the sparkly stones glimmering at her throat. “Ahh, now I look like a classy slut.”
“Oh, yeah,” Raina said with a satisfied nod. “That level of slutty is going to be damn hard for us to top. But then again, Saturday night is all about you, not us, since you’re a club virgin.”
What did Stephanie have to lose wearing this outfit? Absolutely nothing, she decided. In fact, her motto for the night was going to be, Go big or go home.
Paige clapped her hands together enthusiastically, drawing all of their eyes to her. “Oh, my God, I have the best idea ever,” she said, grinning. “I think we should meet at Stephanie’s Saturday afternoon and get dressed at her place for the masquerade party. We’ll tell the guys to go ahead to the club and we’ll meet up with them around nine, and I’ll hire a limo and driver who can take us there while we relax and sip champagne in the back. And when we walk into the party all together in our slutty dresses . . . well, there’s no telling what the guys will do, which is the best part of it all.”
“I like that idea,” Jillian said, and just that easily, their night was planned.
* * *
The masquerade party, held in the spacious, underground basement beneath The Players Club mansion, was starting to fill up with the dozens of members who’d made it back into the club after being vetted by Mac’s approval process. He’d put a cap on membership and increased the monthly fees to keep admission exclusive, the clientele upper-class, and the club itself less crowded. Since he wasn’t really in this investment for the money, it had been incredibly easy to set a number of restrictions that kept the more obnoxious individuals he’d encountered at the club in the past from qualifying with the new standards and rules in place.
From a second-level VIP section he’d reserved for his personal friends—mainly, the men of Noble and Associates—he was able to see everything going on below. Subdued but colorful lighting cast off the walls and illuminated the large room, and smoke machines added to the mysterious atmosphere. Most of the men and women were wearing one of the masks that had been provided for attendees, which they’d picked out before entering the party. Some people were in elaborate costumes, while others were dressed in regular suits, and dresses for the women.
Appetizers and glasses of champagne were being circulated around the room for the guests, though any alcoholic beverages required the member to surrender one of the two tickets they’d been given at the door. Mac had kept the two-drink maximum rule to make sure that any consent between guests was made without them being excessively inebriated. The music provided a pulsing, sex-infused beat, and the dance floor was already filling with the bump and grind of foreplay. Inhibitions were being shed, and before long Mac knew couples would be pairing off and venturing to other areas of the club in pursuit of more carnal pleasures.
Dean came up beside him at the railing securing the VIP area and followed his gaze to the melee down below. “I can’t believe you were able to get the main renovations done in just a few days,” he said, sounding impressed. “Everything looks fucking fantastic, by the way.”
Mac glanced at his friend with a half smile on his lips. “Thanks. I paid a premium to make sure everything was finished before tonight, but it was well worth it.”
Sawyer, one of their security guys, joined them, a frown marring his brows as he addressed Dean. “Have you heard from Jillian? It’s already nine thirty and Paige isn’t answering my calls or texts,” he said of his wife. “They were supposed to be here at nine.”
Dean pulled his cell phone out and checked the display, his expression remaining calm. “Nope. No messages, so I’m assuming they’re all fine or one of the girls would have contacted one of us.”
Logan came up to Sawyer and clapped him on the back. “Relax, man. You know how women are. They probably lost track of time while they were getting ready.”
“Or they’re being fashionably late so they can make a
n entrance,” Dean added with amusement.
“Look at it this way,” Logan said to his friend. “Paige’s late arrival gives you good reason to punish her, right? A spanking, a flogging . . . the various punishments available to you at The Players Club are endless.”
“And there they are . . .” Dean said, as if on cue. “And Jesus, they all look fucking hot.”
All the guys glanced toward the entrance to the masquerade party. Four women were walking in, each one wearing a lacy black mask that covered her nose and cheeks, with her eyes visible through the cutouts. Despite their faces being partially covered, they were each distinguishable by their hair color, height, or figure. But the only one who captured Mac’s complete attention was the bombshell blonde in the indecently risqué red dress that left very little to the imagination and four-inch heels that made him crave to have those long legs clenched tight around his hips as he finally sated his lust for her.
Yeah, it was a nice, dirty fantasy . . . but that’s all it would be, he reminded himself.
“Holy fuck,” Sawyer nearly wheezed as he got a look at his wife, who was wearing a dark purple dress that plunged low in front and barely contained her curves. “Oh, yeah, I am so going to paddle her ass for wearing that dress for anyone other than me. Alone. In the privacy of our home.”
Logan laughed at his friend’s possessive tone. “I’m betting that caveman response of yours is exactly what Paige was hoping for when she bought that outfit.”
“You’re okay with every guy in the place ogling your wife’s tits and ass?” Sawyer asked incredulously. “Because there is no shortage of men eye-fucking Raina right now.”
Logan’s brows snapped together in a frown as his gaze swiveled back down to the lower level, his scowl deepening when he verified just how much attention his wife’s very little black dress was attracting. When Logan glanced back and saw Rick’s humorous expression, his irritation increased.
