2|Vanessa
I stare into his intense blue eyes and absentmindedly wipe my hand down his body, trying to clean my Dom Perignon off him. It would help if I had something to soak it up with, like a towel or even a napkin.
Or my tongue.
The thought flits through my head and makes my eyes grow wide as my cheeks blaze. My hand trembles slightly against his muscles before I remember that I’m practically groping him at this point.
“I’m, oh damn, I’m so sorry,” I shake my head and force myself to break free from his hypnotic stare. Instead my eyelashes flutter as I slowly look down his body. It’s as if all his tight, ripped muscles somehow just encourage me to keep traveling down over them, leading to the next and the one after that, until I’m staring at the huge muscle flexing in his see-through underwear.
“Wow,” I look back up at him, horrified that I just let that word slip off the edge of my tongue. My fingers flutter to my lips like I’m trying to catch it in the air and push it back into my mouth.
“Don’t worry about it,” his full lips curl up slightly at the corners, “I don’t mind wearing a little champagne, or chocolate sauce, or whip cream, whatever you’re into really,” he winks at me and all the nerve I built up to walk into this club tonight melts down into a hot pool in my belly.
“Oh, no, I wasn’t trying to start anything or whatever, you just startled me. I mean, not that I’m totally not interested. I’m just, I’m new and I’ve never been to a place like this before and … I’m not sure why I’m here,” I barely say the last part loud enough to be heard over the music.
“I’m Gabriel,” his eyes twinkle as he extends his hand and clasps mine gently, he has some deep scarring around his left eye, but it takes nothing away from his rugged sexiness. “You can call me Gabe. I can see you’re a bit flustered. You wanna sit down with me for a bit? I know you might not think so by how I’m dressed, but I love talking and scoping out the scene,” he nods toward his girthy, veiny package. The one I refuse to acknowledge. The one that I can very clearly see out of my peripheral vision. My eyes betray me and quickly sneak another peek. Damn it! I bite my lip painfully hard, as punishment for letting myself be so greedy.
“No, you’re not dressed for it,” I agree, trying to sound very matter-of-fact.
“I’m glad you noticed,” he smirks and his eyes trail over me so thoroughly. I feel like the short dress I wore, trying to look flirty, has evaporated and that I’m the one standing here practically naked in soaking white undies. Well, one part of that is right, my panties are soaked, but not from spilling champagne. I look around the club again and my heart beats wildly in my chest. I may have bitten off more than I can chew with this. My tight summer dress makes me look like a nun compared to all the writhing, sweaty, nude bodies out on the floor. I swallow hard and look down at the empty glass in my hand.
“I, well, I should probably go. This was a mistake,” I mumble.
“I’ll tell you what, how about you take a seat over there,” he points to a quiet corner, “I will get you a refill and we can chat. No pressure to do anything. No expectations. Just get to know each other a bit,” he steps in closer to me and I can smell his musk and the faint aroma of my dumped champagne on him.
I mean, it sounds good. And he does have me hotter than a black sand beach in Hades at high noon, and that’s saying something. Especially for me.
I nod, “Deal.” I finally smile as the tension I have been carrying with me since I decided to check this place out, begins to wash away.
“Perfect,” he smiles back and I notice that his teeth are straight, but not like he wore braces. They’re white but not like he bleaches them until air hurts the raw nerves. He’s so sexy, but he’s so not Hollywood and that’s a huge lung full of fresh air in LA. Gabe extends his arm to me like he’s Fred Astaire offering me to do a big dance number with him on the silver screen. I wrap my hand around it and can’t help how my fingers squeeze his tight, hard muscles. If he notices, he doesn’t say a word, instead leading me to the seats he pointed out.
“Thank you,” I tilt my head and give him another look when he pulls a seat out for me. This time I’m not checking him out, but wondering where a guy like this has been hiding this whole time. How is he not taken?
He slides his drink over to an empty seat and plucks my glass from my hand, “I will be right back,” Gabe turns on his heel and, I will admit, I study his tight ass as he walks away.
Maybe this place isn’t so bad after all.
I lose sight of him as he saddles up to the bar and I let my gaze slide over the sex club. On the dance floor, I can see a lot of naked and half-naked people grinding and licking and fucking right out in the open, seemingly oblivious to how many people are watching them. I focus on one woman who is standing straight, being fucked from behind by a snarling man with his hand pressing down on her throat. Her face is contorted with bliss as she works her ass back against him with every thrust. It isn’t hard to see she’s lost in her pleasure. He snakes his thumb up to the corner of her siren red lips and she opens her mouth eagerly, sucking on it feverishly. Her cheeks hollow as she attempts to deepthroat his thumb, but then she opens her mouth and her lips form a perfect O shape as she tosses her head back and screams at the ceiling. I can’t hear her orgasmic cries over the music, but I can see the shudder travel over her flesh as every part of her seems to find release in the moment.
That’s what I want.
That is why I came here.
“Here you go, for the pretty little voyeur,” Gabe seems to appear from thin air, making me jump in my own skin. He has a way of sneaking up on me.
“It’s Vanessa,” I smile and tuck my hair behind my ear.
“Beautiful name, it suits you,” his eyes drift over me as he slowly sips his drink. I take a sip of my own and crinkle my nose as the little bubbles explode down my throat.
“So are you new to LA? Or just this scene? You don’t look like the typical, jaded waitress who hits every audition on her days off.” He chuckles and runs his thumb over the side of his glass. I watch as it leaves a clear path across the drops, clinging to the tumbler, and remember the woman’s face on the dance floor as she stopped sucking on her partner’s thumb and she started cumming.
I clench my thighs together tight and run my hand over my hair, “I’ve been here a while,” I answer honestly. It is actually nice that he has no idea who I am. Not that my acting career has been stellar so far. Not until I landed this latest role. This one could change my life. If I can figure out how to play a woman who is more like the one I was watching on the dance floor. And if I can manage to lose the weight the director put in the contract. My lips tug down as I look at my glass of bubbly. How many calories are in this? I have to start thinking about that all the time now. Every bite. Every sip.
“How about you? Done any movies?” I push away the nagging voice at the back of my head worrying about empty calories, and focus back on Gabe.
“Me? No, not at all. That’s not my thing,” he looks like I just cracked a funny joke.
“Oh, so what is your thing then?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Well, right now,” he leans in closer and I watch his tattoos jump on his chest as his pecs tighten, making the muscles even more defined, “it’s getting to know a stunning woman.”
“Is that so?” I try to sound nonchalant, but the way he locks onto me with his eyes makes my voice crack when I speak.
“It is, so, let me ask you a question,” he looks down at his glass. Here it comes. Is he going to try to make a move now? Is he hoping I will go fuck him on the dance floor? A tiny part of me throbs at the thought.
“Shoot,” I swallow hard. My hand grips the side of my glass like it might get blown away in a storm.
“What’s your favorite Kubrick movie?”
“Umm, what?” My mind scrambles to process a question, I wasn’t expecting at all.
“Let me guess, is it Eyes Wide Shut?” He tilts his head and his bl
ue eyes sparkle.
“No.”
3|Gabe
I can see from the adorable way her eyebrows furrow together and she tilts her head that she’s not picking up on what I’m saying. I have met a few women in places like this who are checking out the scene for the first time, and they have all said the same thing about why they decided to give it a try: Eyes Wide Shut. There’s something about that movie that seems to drive women’s curiosity to a new peak, and once they have reached the summit they realize there’s only one way back down, they have to jump.
“No way, to be honest, I didn’t really like that movie at all. I felt like that was part of the sad decline of his work.” I watch her shoulders slide down as the tension eases from them and she finally relaxes. “Now, Clockwork Orange, that was my favorite Stanley Kubrick film.
A jolt shoots through my body and I sit a little straighter. I have met all kinds of women in these clubs. Usually all they want to do is get the goods, talk dirty, feel like a queen for a night and be on their way, but I can’t remember the last time I met someone who wants to have a real conversation. Especially someone who loves the same movie I do.
“That is the best movie he ever did, hands down,” I feel myself genuinely smiling as I look at her with fresh eyes. She’s like a beautiful, cool breeze that unexpectedly whirls around you on a stagnant summer day. It’s so refreshing to meet someone who is still genuine enough to blush when she gets flustered. Someone who isn’t as shallow as a mud puddle and whose soul isn’t just as dirty.
“I think so too, I really loved the way he brought the book to life.” Her light brown eyes dance and she parts her rosy lips as she finally stops trying to filter everything she’s saying. “I mean, I never think the movie is better than the book, it’s like some kind of sin to say that, but with Clockwork, it’s pretty close,” she giggles.
“We should watch it sometime together, it’s been ages since I have seen it.” I watch clouds of worry roll over her eyes. Why is she here? Clearly, she’s not comfortable with a one-night stand situation. “I promise I will wear real clothes and everything,” I laugh and love how she giggles. I’m not blind, I don’t miss how her eyes quickly flicker down my body. How they hover for just a second on my drying underwear. So, she does have a dirty side. Or at least a curious one. I’m more than happy to let her explore whatever she wants with me. I could teach her a thing or two.
“You know what? Sure,” Vanessa reaches into her purse and slides her phone across the table to me. “Give me your number and we will do it,” her eyes grow wide as the words hang in the air between us. “I mean that we will watch it, not do it. I didn’t mean …” she looks mortified and I have to bite the insides of my cheeks not to laugh.
“I got what you meant.” I type my information into the phone and hit save. “There, done,” I take another long sip of my drink and lean back in my chair. Vanessa smiles down at her phone and warmth blooms through my chest, I don’t think it is the rum.
Two bulky guys in golf shirts walk up behind her, closing the distance between them and her fast. Before I have a chance to assess them, they flank her sides and one guy leans over and whispers in her ear while the other guy stares me down with a feral snarl.
What.The. Fuck?
“Hey, how about you back off buddy, we’re in the middle of a conversation here,” I drop my hand from my drink and ball it into a fist. Vanessa looks around the bar and then up to the hulking man, like she is frightened.
“How about you cool your jets and shut the fuck up?” The golf shirt twin with a shaved head and bushy eyebrows, answers me.
“What did you just say to me?” I stand up and push my chair back and the man is in my face in an instant. It’s crazy that someone so solid can move so fast.
“No, Gabe, wait a sec,” Vanessa urges but I don’t look her way. Mr. Clean on meth cocks his fist back and all bets are off. I dodge his sloppy throw and snap my fist out, crunching against his thick jaw like a cobra bite.
He wobbles, but he doesn't go down. The guy sweet talking in Vanessa’s ear stands up and circles around the table at me. His hair is buzzed but not shaved to the scalp, so he looks a little different from the first guy but it’s not like I’m really studying them.
“Vince! Rocco! No!” I hear Vanessa cry out. Wait, she knows these ass-clowns? I don’t have time to iron out the details because either Vince or Rocco is moving at me and I need to think fast. He swings and I duck but his partner manages to get a good shot in at my kidneys. A dull ache spreads through my guts and tosses kerosene on the raging fire building up inside me.
“You wanna dance, fuckers? Let’s dance!” I whirl around and backhand the kidney puncher in the face, stunning him, and clock his temple like I’m trying to put my fist through a brick wall. His skull is so thick, it kinda feels the same.
Luckily, he drops so I wheel back around to face his friend just in time to catch a punch to the cheek. “Fuck!” I lean over and spear my head into his gut, sending him flying back into the chairs behind him and he ends up sprawled out on the floor. I punch his face and my anger boils up as I hit it over and over until it looks like raw burger. It doesn’t take much time, and I know I don’t have very long before his not-so-little friend wakes back up and comes after me.
“Fuck you, man!” I stand up and see everyone’s eyes on me. Searching the room, I can see that I’m gonna have cops dragging me out of here soon if I don’t get out. I search the exits and see Vanessa just as she rushes out the side door.
4|Vanessa
The heavy metal door slams shut behind me and I need to stop for a second and rest my head against it. It feels cool against my burning body as I slump into the chilly steel.
He was watching me.
I saw him look up from where he dropped my bodyguards like a couple of houseflies and almost made me want to face the drama to be back by his side. The way his sweat was glistening over his tight frame and how the bulge in his shorts was practically phosphorescent under the black lights of the club, glowing like the magic wand I need to finally make me cum.
My eyelids spring open as I realize that I have no idea how I’m getting out of here. If what Vince told me was true, the paparazzi have tracked me down to this place and the last thing I need is footage of me running out of a sex club all over TMZ tomorrow. They say there’s no such thing as bad publicity, and maybe they’re right, but I don’t want to risk it. Not when I have the role to make my career, hanging in the balance.
I yank my phone out of my purse and tap the message notification bubble with my finger. My agent is going haywire trying to get a hold of me. She’s blowing up my screen so fast I can’t even read her first message because it keeps scrolling down to her frantic messages.
Fiona: Where ru?!
Fiona: Get ur ass to the car!!
Me: What car?
Fiona: Behind the club, move it, papz is on ur trail.
Me: K
I step out of my heels and pick them up, rushing over the dirty sidewalk still warm from the unrelenting California sun earlier today. I turn the corner to the back alley. It’s creepy and dimly lit. I feel like I’m the dumb girl walking toward the flickering light by the creaking door in the horror movie as I squint and scurry to the waiting black car with tinted windows.
The back door flings open as I approach and Fiona pops her head out and starts yelling at me like we just robbed a bank together. “Get in! Get in! We gotta move, they’re on their way!” She waves her hand toward the car wildly.
I jump inside and slam the door shut behind me. “Okay, I’m in. Let’s go.” I let my shoes drop to the floor and Fiona jerks her frizzy puffball of red hair, that’s mostly escaped its bun, toward the driver and he starts the engine.
“God, here come the human vultures, ready to pick the skin off your bones. Look at these assholes,” she sneers out the back window at the heavy-set men carrying long lens cameras, rounding the corner behind us. “I wish we could drive right over them, do yo
u think anyone would really miss them?” She smiles and picks up her velvet, drawstring bag from the seat between us and rifles through it.
“I can’t imagine anyone would,” I admit and crinkle my nose as she tugs her pack of smokes out from the bag. “Ugh, the only thing worse than someone smoking is someone smoking in a car,” I complain, but I know she doesn’t care. Long before Fiona was my agent she was my friend. We went through college together and both got bit by the acting bug at the same time. After a few bad experiences, she stopped going to auditions and started booking them. By now, she’s heard me give her a million stern lectures about smoking and learned to tune them all out.
“Yeah, yeah, here.” She hits the button on her dark window and opens it a crack, “Better?” The blue-gray puffs whirl around in a lazy game of ring-around-the-rosy, slowly climbing higher until they find their way out to the night sky.
“I guess,” I shrug and decide to give up. I mean, she did just save my ass.
The car veers up around the corner and we slowly make our way up the side of the club. The paparazzi disappear in our dust as the driver stops near the front edge of the building and waits for his chance to merge in with the crazy LA traffic.
“So,” Fiona hauls another long drag off her cigarette and blows it like a small smoke signal out the window, “you gonna explain to me what you were doing at a sex club?” She raises a perfectly painted on eyebrow and I squirm against the seat uncomfortably.
“It’s kind of a long story,” I tuck my hair behind my ear. “How did you get here so fast? How did you know the paparazzi were following me?” I try to change the subject but I can see from her pointed stare that she’s not falling for it.
“I was out with a friend down the street,” she smiles. “And it’s my job to know about those rat-faced bastards,” she takes another drag deep into her lungs. “You can thank me by telling me what the hell you were up to tonight. With Los Angeles traffic, it’s gonna be a long drive, so spill it.”
TinderElla: A Modern Day Single Dad Fairy-Tale (Fairy Tale Series Book 2) Page 29
