“What is it that leaves you so confused?” he asked her.
“What just happened for one? He looked like he wasn't even aware he was being watched by everyone in the room,” Felicity said. “Also, who are you? I mean, do you always get so familiar with people you don't know?”
Alistair smiled again, flashing even rows of pearly whites so bright, as far as she was concerned, he could star in every toothpaste commercial ever made.
“He wasn't here. He was someplace more exquisite than you would understand. Not unless you go where he's been.”
Felicity scoffed, unable to help herself. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Alistair cocked his head sideways. “You're very new to my club. You wouldn't happen to be Felicity would you?”
She stepped back, shocked at his brashness.
“I take it you are. Please,” he gestured to one of the leather benches.
Felicity gave him a sideways glance.
“I don't bite... unless you want me to,” Alistair said, then he leaned forward. “And you would... want me to.”
Felicity flushed and she knew the blush she applied earlier wasn't going to hide the redness in her face right now. Quickly she turned, heading towards the bench, thankful it was in a dimly lit section of the club. Alistair followed her, taking a seat right beside her, crossing one elegantly long leg over the other as if he owned the place. Wait a minute, he did, didn't he? He did refer to this place as “my club”. He put one well muscled arm around the back of the bench, careful not to touch Felicity's shoulders, but keeping her close enough that they could feel the heat emanating from each others' bodies.
“All right, you know my name, what's yours?” Felicity asked, breaking the silence between them.
“Alistair.”
“That's it? One name?”
“You haven't quite earned the privilege of knowing my last. But that's not to say you won't.”
Felicity snorted. “Wow, you're awfully confident, aren't you?”
“Of course. As are you.”
“You know that much about me, do you? Just from our little exchange over there?” Felicity gestured towards the red velvet entryway.
“I can read a person pretty well.”
“Wow, the surprises keep coming. Can you pull a rabbit out of your hat, too?”
Alistair laughed. The sound filled her ears and certain parts of her body wanted her to shut up and let him take over. She fought to stay in control of her libido and, after several deep breaths she hoped he didn't notice her inner struggle. In an attempt to redirect that piercing jade-green gaze in another direction, she decided to ask him to explain the scene that had just happened.
Her plan didn't work. His hypnotic stare remained locked on her as he replied.
“I could explain it to you, but you'd never fully grasp the meaning of my words until you've experienced it for yourself.” Alistair smiled.
Felicity had to look away, she had to keep her wits about herself.
“Um, I doubt that. Besides, that sounds like the same line a drug addict would say to convince me to get high with them.”
“In a way, it is a form of euphoria. A natural high, if you will. It's that moment when he could let go, trust in his mistress to take care of him. To take him to his zenith and safely bring him back. Some call it subspace. When you're in it, you're no longer aware of your surroundings and depending on the intensity, even yourself. It's very gratifying for both Dominant and submissive to reach that point,” Alistair said, then he beckoned for a waiter to come over to them.
The man, clad in black pants and bow-tie approached them. “What may I get you?” he asked pleasantly.
“I'll take a ginger ale,” Alistair said, then he looked at Felicity. “Would you care for a drink?”
Felicity had to find her voice... again. Her mind was still mulling over what he had told her and the reverence in which he spoke about it as if it were some sacred act. Try as she may to deny it, she was intrigued.
“Oh, um, I'll take a mojito,” she said.
“I'm sorry ma'am, we don't serve alcohol in the Dungeon,” the waiter informed. “We can make you a virgin mojito.”
“Oh, that's right.” She remembered the rules on the paper she signed. “I'll take that, thanks.”
The waiter nodded. “Will do, ma'am. I'll be right back with your drinks.” With that, he turned and left.
“So what's with the no alcohol rule?” Felicity asked.
“My own personal preference. Not all places like this have that stipulation, but I will not tolerate it. When a person is inebriated, even the slightest, he or she may injure themselves or another member. Especially during a scene. If someone chooses to drink, they are more than welcome to go to the bar downstairs, but that's where they'll stay.” Alistair's tone left no doubt to his seriousness about that particular rule.
“I had another question,” Felicity began.
He turned away from watching a man spanking his male sub to look at her. His long, thick black lashes brought out the green in his eyes making them all the more vibrant. “Yes.”
Felicity had to blink just to pull away from his gaze or risk being lost there forever. Maybe that's what I really want, to be lost in your eyes forever, she thought. She turned away completely now, as if the very motion would break whatever spell he had cast upon her. “I—I, um...God, I forgot what I wanted to say,” she grumbled, frustrated with herself.
Alistair reached over, taking her chin between his thumb and finger and turned her face towards him. “What is it you wanted to ask of me?”
His accent was working some unseen magic within her, heating her body up in all the right places. It took her a few moments to gather her thoughts before she caught up to the question that had eluded her before.
“The club... I was curious about the name. Why call this place 'A Porterhouse Elm'?” Felicity asked. “Seems odd.”
Alistair smiled, revealing for the first time a dimple in his left cheek. Maybe it was there before and she just didn't notice it at first. Lord help me! Felicity thought. This man is full of surprises.
“Can I let you in on a little secret?” he asked, leaning close.
Felicity nodded, almost absently as she stared at his impossibly handsome face.
“It's an anagram.”
“For what?” she asked.
The waiter had returned now and handed them both glasses filled with their requested drinks. “Will that be all?” he asked.
“Yes, David. That is all,” Alistair said.
David nodded and walked away to tend to the other patrons who were engaged in many sexual activities which meant he'd have a lot of free time from what Felicity could see.
“The Pleasure Room,” Alistair said, right before taking a sip of his ginger ale.
“What? Hun?” Felicity looked at him confused, as if wondering where that came from.
He repeated himself. “The Pleasure Room.”
“That's the name of the club?” she asked, finally putting the puzzle pieces together.
Alistair nodded. “Outside, it's A Porterhouse Elm. In here...” He made a quick sweeping gesture of the room. “It's the Pleasure Room. I think it's fitting, wouldn't you agree?”
Felicity shrugged. “I guess.” She looked around the room at all the couples, some in threes enjoying the “pleasure”.
“You only say that because you still don't understand.”
She turned back to him, knowing she was taking a chance by looking in those gorgeous eyes of his. “What is it I don't get?” she asked. “All l can see is a lot of creepy kink.”
“There are those whose sexual desires lean towards what some may consider the perverse. I don't judge, I liberate. There's no shame in enjoying one's own body or the body of another,” Alistair said.
“Thinking about putting that in a Hallmark card, are you?” Felicity retorted.
Alistair chortled. “I may just. Nothing says: 'I Want You' like a pair o
f handcuffs to go along with that card.” His smile widen and Felicity blushed even more.
“Why do you care about me anyway?” she asked, suddenly.
“What can I say, you intrigue me.”
“I find that hard to believe. Not with all of these other available females around here,” Felicity said as she gave the room a once over then turned back to Alistair.
“Who says they are available? A lot of these relationships you see before you are strictly monogamous regardless of the fact that they share this with the rest of us. I wouldn't dare assume I could touch another member's partner without their permission. Nor am I interested in sharing what belongs to someone else.”
“So what, you think you're going to talk me into one of those swings to put me on display?”
“I'm sure you'll find it liberating.”
“I'm sure I won't.”
“Then why are you here?”
“What?”
“You sought access to my club, I think it's because you're curious, but it seems that you're in denial and not willing to explore your true feelings.” Alistair took another sip of his drink.
Felicity looked down at her own drink, untouched. For the first time she decided to take a swig, if only to buy herself some time to think of a believable answer.
“I'm waiting?” Alistair said.
She turned sharply toward him. Something about the way he demanded an answer from her, both angered and seduced her and now she was more confused than before about her true feelings.
“I—I don't know why I'm here.” It was the closest to the truth she was willing to give him. Outside of searching for one of the greatest stories ever to be told, she had no idea why the club was so alluring to her.
“That's what I thought.” Alistair drained his glass and put it on the end table. “If you would indulge me for just a while longer, I simply insist that you come by tomorrow night, around nine.”
“Why?” Felicity asked.
“Because I request it.”
There it goes again. Even the mood he takes on changes when he gives her an order. She found herself wanting to give into whatever he asked of her, but she stopped herself.
“I think I'm busy tomorrow night. So I can't make any promises,” she stated.
Alistair stared at her, his gaze reaching deep into her soul as if he could draw her to him with that alone.
“Tomorrow night, then,” he said, then rose from the bench. He walked away, towards one of the other patrons who were talking amongst themselves with their subs standing nearby with leashes attached to their collars.
Felicity realized that she couldn't take her eyes off him, even as he made his way through the room making idle conversation with several patrons. Finally, he left and she couldn't help but feel the loss of his presence. “What is wrong with you?” she asked herself.
“He favors you,” said a female who happened to have taken the seat beside her.
Felicity didn't even notice her sitting beside her until she spoke.
“I doubt that,” Felicity said, trying to deny the unmistakable chemistry that was almost electric between them.
“Oh, doubt all you want. It's in your eyes, sweetie. It's only a matter of time before he has you on that St. Andrew's cross begging to cum,” the woman said as matter of fact.
Felicity scoffed as she shot the woman an aghast look. “Not my scene. The last time I got a spanking I was five and that was because my grams was strict.”
The woman laughed. “Trust me, honey. There's big different from your cookie-baking granny and a Dom of Alistair's pedigree. You'd be a fool to refuse his affections.”
“Hell, if he's so good, why don't you go for him.”
The woman only smiled seductively over the rim of her glass as she took a sip of her red colored drink.
There was something in the way the woman had looked at Felicity that made the heat rise in her body like a fever. What did this woman know about Alistair that she didn't? And further more, why did it bother her so much that this strange woman and Alistair seem to share a connection? What had this man done to her to make her have these emotions?
Felicity looked at her watch.
“It's later than I thought,” she said, making a great excuse to leave. “You have a good night.”
She didn't bother waiting for a response. She had to get out of that place or risk passing out. She practically ran down the two flights of stairs, just slowing down enough to make her way through the restaurant without looking like a madwoman. Once outside, she took in huge gulps of air. The crisp breeze felt good on her overheated skin. She hoped it would help her to calm down, but after a few moments of deep breathing techniques, she was still wired. Realizing she needed to get away from the club, she half-ran, half-walked towards her car and climbed inside, taking several moments to compose herself. Her hands were shaking as she rested them on the steering wheel.
“Keep it together, Felicity, damn it!”
Finally, she felt relaxed enough to drive home. She took a Xanax and downed a whole glass of water hoping to get enough rest so that she wasn't a walking zombie the next day. After a mere hour of sleep, she woke up. Sexy thoughts of Mr. Tall, Dark and Gorgeous plagued her subconscious. That arrogant bastard, she fumed as she lay sprawled on her bed. As she thought about the things he'd said and how he said them, her hand slowly moved over her breast, fingers gently rubbing a pink nipple. Her other hand teased her clit, running two fingers between the sensitive nub back and forth and then in a circular motion. She bit her bottom lip and moaned as the pleasure increased. She worked herself over, breasts and pussy all the while fantasizing about Alistair and what he could do to her with those lips of his. Not to mention, his tongue. It wasn't long before she was screaming, back arched on the bed as she rode her climax. She quaked several times before removing her hand from between her legs.
“You're ...losing it ...Felicity,” she said between breathless pants. She closed her eyes and forced herself to not think about her recent sexual inspiration. After what seemed like forever, she finally drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Four
“So how did it go last night? Did you get any info?” Allison asked when Felicity made it to her desk.
“Can I get my coat off first before you start badgering me for information?” Felicity fussed.
“Ohhh, okay, somebody didn't get enough sleep last night.” Allison turned back around. “Forget I said anything.”
Felicity sighed. “It's not you, I'm sorry. I really didn't get enough sleep last night.” She had to admit, she was wound pretty tight. Even the shower-head didn't relieve the tension and that didn't help her day start bright at all.
“Well, if you want to talk, you know I'm here,” Allison offered.
“I know. But I don't want to talk about last night, if it's all the same.”
“All right. We'll drop that,” Allison said. “So, how about we go out tonight? Just you and me. I know of this new restaurant that supposed to make the best jerk chicken.”
“I'd love to, but...” she paused. Was she really going to blow off her friend to go back to that club? It wasn't even for the mayor this time. It was for him. Because he told her to come back.
“You'd love to but what?” Allison asked.
“I'm just not feeling good and I think once I leave here, I'm going straight home and catching up on much needed rest,” Felicity lied.
“Oh, poor thing. I guess I can't get pissed at you for that. Fine, I'll take a raincheck.” Allison turned back around and continued to work. Felicity faced her computer, but pulled out her cell phone, texting her “source”. Call me at Twelve, she sent the message. Her phone buzzed with a return message that simply read: Okay.
At noon, Felicity sat alone in a cafe, waiting for the call. Finally her cell began to ring.
“I'm glad you called me back,” Felicity said.
“Why wouldn't I?” her contact said.
“Listen, I need to know the tru
th and I swear I will not reveal you or your own source, but I need to know if this information you're giving me is credible. I'm risking a lot here,” Felicity said.
“I'm not lying to you. Mayor Goldberg really does go to that club.”
“How do you know for certain. Have you ever seen him there? Do you go there?”
“You believed me before, now all of a sudden you don't?” her source asked, his tone was obviously agitated.
“I want to believe you, but even if it's true, I don't know how I can bust his ass there.”
“Have you been to that club?” her source asked, now his tone was curious.
“Yes, twice now and not even a shadow of the man. If I'm going to go deeper undercover, I need more concrete evidence that I won't be wasting my time. You've got to see where I'm coming from,” Felicity urged.
There was a silence on the other end of the phone. She could practically hear the gears in his head turning. After an audible huff, he relented.
“This better not ever come back on me or the person whose alias I'm going to reveal,” he said.
“Jason, I---”
“Hey, don't be using my name during these conversations!”
“Really? You know if my phone was being tracked, they could still find you through your number,” she pointed out.
“That's why I'm using a burner. Toss this shit if I have to. So we're going to stick to the rules we agreed upon earlier.”
“Fine by me. Go on.”
“Okay. I know what I know because someone else I know happens to be his go-to girl whenever he goes to the club. She told me he's into all kinds of kink, some of it she's cool with. It's what he wants. She's what you call a pro-Domme or Dominatrix.”
“What's that?”
“He pays her to do the deed. The money's good and the club gives him the privacy he wants even better than some hotel room. Lord knows he can't take her home for his kinky games, not with his wife and children there.”
The Pleasure Room Page 5
