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by Lyra Parish


  I didn’t know what she was up to, but I loved it so far.

  “Ever heard of a place called Orleans downtown?”

  I thought for a moment then shook my head.

  “Of course you haven’t,” she said and squeezed my hand. “Tonight, you’re going to fall in love with sex all over again.” She pulled two rectangle-shaped passes from inside her purse and handed them to me. VIP Passes to Orleans. I flipped over the cards and read the small print on the back.

  “What in the hell is a lifestyle club?” I asked.

  “It’s a private swingers club. It’s club Orleans, babe. Only the hottest are allowed in, and we are going. Here, put this on.” She handed me a black mask with white lace decorating the edges. I pulled it over my face while she slipped hers in place. It was the opposite of mine, white with black lace around the edges. I laughed, then slipped on a pair of black high heels that accentuated the muscles in my calves. Even with the heels, I was a few inches shorter than Stacey. With mask-covered faces, we smiled at one another, and then she grabbed my hand and pulled me out the door. Before we stepped inside the elevator, she turned and looked at me. “Jake is waiting downstairs to drive us there now.”

  “Wait, Jake? Your stepbrother Jake? Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t want to see him.”

  “Actually, he was the one who was given the passes, so he kind of invited us. Get over it, Rox. He’s promised to behave. And if we need someone to kick ass, he’s there. I’ve given him a list of rules, and I’ve told him to leave you alone.”

  I sighed. The entire ride down she was smiling about what the night would hold, but I was lost in silence as I thought about Jake, the boy who stole my heart in high school, with his sandy blond hair and green eyes. His dad and Stacey’s mom got together when we were fourteen. For Jake and me, it was puppy love at first sight. My senior year in high school when he moved off to college, my heart was broken. I pushed the thoughts of him away.

  “I just know how lame your online dating sites are. It’s time for you to get laid without all the banter beforehand.”

  I liked where this was going.

  When we got to the car, Stacey slid into the front seat and I sat in the back. Jake turned around and shot me a smile. Harmless, but still.

  I swallowed and released a calm breath. “Hi, Jacob.” I used his full name to show him that we were not on nickname terms.

  “Roxane,” he said.

  I fucking hated that he still had the ability to conjure any sort of emotion within me.

  He weaved through random streets until we were on Westheimer, one of the busiest streets in Houston. He and Stacy made small talk about Orleans. Jake had never been there before, though he had visited a swingers club overseas once. Funny, I never knew that. Must have happened after we broke up. Stacey told him the rules of the evening, and forced him to stop at a liquor store. Apparently, it was against the law for Orleans to sell alcohol, so we had to pick up our own. She ran inside and came out with two bags full of liquor. I felt like I was in college again.

  The bottles clinked beside me as Stacey told Jake he was never to be in the same room as us, and he had better keep his hands away from me. I looked out the window and pretended I didn’t hear them, but we all knew that was silly, since we were in such close proximity.

  Before long, we pulled up to a plain building. For a moment, I was confused. The windows were blacked out, and if it weren’t for the people in line, I wouldn’t have even known it was there. The beat of the music gave it away, even though no signs hung on the front of the building. Without a doubt, there was a party going on inside.

  Jake stepped out and opened the door for me. I couldn’t help but look into his eyes. He turned his head and looked away. I didn’t blame him, because it didn’t end well between us. He placed a manly version of my mask over his face, as a man in all black opened Stacey’s door. She was in her element. Tall, beautiful, and though the wind was blowing, her hair stayed perfectly in place.

  “Are you invited guests?” the man asked. Stacey handed him our passes, and he looked through the names on an iPad as she grabbed the two black plastic bags of alcohol. Once he found our names, he smiled genuinely and escorted us to the front of the line, the official VIP area, while the regular line wrapped around the building. People in all different shapes and sizes anxiously waited to enter. As we stood behind the velvety black rope, the beat of the music pulled me closer and pulsated through my veins. All I wanted to do was get lost in the rhythm and dance with a spirit named tequila. I wondered where she would lead me.

  The cool breeze swept over us, and I smiled. I fucking loved late summer, the way the air felt right before fall arrived. We were asked to show our IDs and were given the club rules by a chocolate-skinned hottie who kept giving me the eye. I couldn’t help but smirk.

  “We have a strict NO rule. If someone is interested in you, and you are not interested in him or her, just say no. We pride ourselves on providing our guests with a safe environment. Next up, you are not allowed to bring any personal items with you inside of the club. You can purchase locks for the lockers in the foyer, or you can put your belongings in your vehicle. No photos are allowed. Everyone must keep their masks on. We have guests from all different walks of life. It’s not uncommon to have celebrities or business executives visit, so anonymity is important. If you happen to recognize anyone here … well, what happens in Orleans, stays in Orleans.”

  He didn’t miss a beat and kept talking, but I knew it was a rehearsed set of rules. He had probably said them so many times that he could repeat them in his sleep.

  “Everyone will need to sign this document. It’s a waiver saying you understand the terms. Oh, and all alcohol will be delivered to the bartenders with your member number. We provide the mixers and service.”

  Stacey spoke up as she signed her name on the little dotted line. “No problem. And we will purchase a lock.”

  “And that’s all the rules we have. Other than that, be safe and have fun.” Then he winked at me, and I lifted an eyebrow at him. As I passed, I turned and looked back at him, and he was staring at my ass. Stacey grabbed my arm and pulled me next to her.

  The muffled sounds of the club continued to leak through the double wooden doors at the end of the long hallway. My heart raced because I was unsure of what to expect. Stacey looked at me with a huge smile on her face. A lace bracelet was tied around our wrists with a dangling number that linked us to our liquor, then we were sent on our way. Mirrors lined the ceiling. I looked up at myself, questioning what the hell I was doing. Having a good time.

  Before we entered through the main doors, we stopped at a set of lockers to our right and placed our purses inside. Jake turned and looked at me, and I turned and looked at Stacey.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  She nodded her head then looked at Jake. “Separate rooms, remember?”

  “Got it, sis.”

  “Listen, Rox. No one knows it’s you. Loosen up. This is going to be fun, I promise.”

  I wanted to forget about the office, the countless meetings, and the never-ending list of responsibilities that came along with being the President of VanBuren Investments. My father and Pops built the business from the ground up, and now it was one of the most successful investment firms in the country. When Dad was ready to retire, he insisted I take over and the board voted me in. Soon after, since I had graduated with a master’s degree in finance and completed my yearlong internship, I was moving into a large office and holding conferences with our investors. Most twenty-eight-year-olds weren’t burdened with such a large responsibility, but my father insisted, and continued to watch me closely from his seat on the Board of Directors to ensure that I didn’t fuck it up. So I wore the business clothes, spoke the jargon, and kept everything moving in the right direction. My weekends were spent forgetting the week, and my weeks were spent working toward the weekend. Tonight, my only goal was to have fun, go with the flow, and let whatever happened, happen. Si
mple. Right?

  We pushed the doors open and thick smoke from the fog machines rolled in around our feet, then swooshed and followed in our wake. Jake turned to the right as Stacey and I stopped to take it all in. Flashing lights, music, and sexy people with masks surrounded us. Maybe I could fully lose myself in Orleans.

  Stacey and I linked arms and pushed our way through the groups of people that crowded the bar. Bartenders blew fire and twirled bottles as they made colorful drinks. Being in Orleans was a full experience. Stacey and I leaned over the bar top and waited for someone to help us. The cool breeze swept across my breasts and chill bumps formed on my arms. I needed tequila to warm my blood, and I needed it right then, before I changed my mind about the whole situation.

  “Whatcha having, babe?” Mr. Bartender leaned over the bar and asked in a seductively-low voice, then pulled away and waited for my answer. The loud music caused us to scream or whisper. I thought it was sexy that he chose the latter.

  I swallowed and found my voice. “Tequila for number”—I looked down on my wrist and saw a little metal number dangling—“number 825, and please make that two doubles,” I said, yelling over the music. Of course, Stacey purchased tequila. It was our poison of choice.

  “Salt?” he mouthed, and motioned around the glass.

  I nodded. A smile crossed my face while I imagined his features under the mask. I couldn’t see cheekbones, nose, or forehead, only his lips and eyes. Time stood still when we made eye contact, while the movement of flipping bottles and fire-breathing bartenders continued on behind him.

  After a minute, he placed two large shots, both sprinkled with salt around the rim, on the bar. The limes hung haphazardly on the edge. I threw a twenty on the bar top as a tip, then leaned my back against the edge and looked at Stacey. She tilted her head at me then looked over at the cute bartender.

  “Holy fuck, he’s hot. Dark hair. Blue eyes. Hello, Mr. Bartender, pour me another.” She spoke loud enough for only me to hear. I hadn’t even noticed that his eyes were blue, or that his hair was dark. As we clinked our shot glasses together, I smiled, then licked the salt from the rim, downed the liquid gold in one gulp, placed the lime between my teeth, and sucked. My taste buds burst alive as my throat burned in agony at the sensation.

  I stood with my back against the bar and looked at my surroundings. In the middle of the dance floor, a man picked up a woman, and she instantly wrapped her legs around his waist. His pants fell to the ground, and he pushed himself into her. I couldn’t believe my eyes. They fucked in the center of the room while other couples danced around them, and it seemed normal, like it was something that happened all the time. In the corner, I caught sight of a couple fucking against the wall. Across the room, I spotted two others sitting in a booth. The woman was gasping, and then I saw the man’s hands down her pants while another woman watched. Everywhere I looked, some form of sex was transpiring. Orleans was a beautiful fucking place.

  Stacey ordered us another round of shots, doubles with salt and lime, and Sexy Bartender brought them over. I looked over my shoulder at him and smiled, and he smiled back. I realized everyone in the club was wearing one, regardless of whether they were guests or employees. After I slammed the shot, I was ready to explore. I didn’t feel the tequila immediately, but after ten minutes my blood was swimming with liquid courage.

  As we walked to the dance floor, all eyes were on us. The beat continued on, and I lifted my head to the colorful lights. The music was slow and intense. It was music made to make love to, and several people around us were. I felt like I was breaking some rule watching them, but I couldn’t help it. When I turned my head to look at Stacey, I noticed a man dancing behind her, rubbing his hands up and down her body. She was completely into it, and I didn’t blame her, because from what I could tell, he was sexy and shirtless. Without another thought, Stacey unbuckled the man’s pants as he pulled a condom from his pocket. I gave thumbs up when she glanced my way, then I walked back toward the bar.

  Completely naked people were walking around, both men and women, and they seemed to be in their element. It must be freeing to not care. Maybe I was a little too uptight for that.

  My body relaxed almost completely, but I ordered another shot, one with a mixer on the side this time, though. Whiskey and Coke. The girly drinks tended to make me sick. When it came to whiskey, I liked to feel it burn when it went down. Blue Eyes pushed the shot of whiskey and the side of Coke toward me, and I thanked him. He asked me my name, and I gave a fake one, the one that I always used—Katie. He smiled like he knew it wasn’t real, but didn’t question it. I twirled the straw between my fingers as he walked away.

  A body slid in beside me, and I looked over the rim of my glass as I sipped my drink. We made eye contact, and I saw Jake.

  “Rox.”

  “Don’t. My name is Katie tonight.” I’ve wanted to forget how we ended for years. The memories of how I told him I couldn’t marry him because we were too young and he was too overbearing sometimes, haunted me. It could turn out to be the biggest regret of my life, but only time would tell. I had loved him at one point. He was the boy who stole my heart, but I just couldn’t commit. We were both different now, older, more experienced.

  “Katie,” he said and ran his fingers through his hair. I knew he was searching for the right words to say.

  I completely turned my body around and faced him. I lifted my eyebrows, but I wasn’t sure he could see that. The room seemed to be getting darker as the flashing lights on the dance floor dimmed. The DJ set the mood with songs about love and beats that made everyone want to move their asses. The irony of the lyrics wasn’t lost on me. I was willing to bet the majority of the people in the room weren’t looking for love.

  Jake placed his hand on my leg and ran his fingers up my thighs. He knew my body. At one point, he had every curve memorized.

  “I’ve been thinking about you lately,” he leaned in and whispered in my ear. “A lot.”

  I looked up at him, and he met my eyes. The next thing I knew, we were kissing, passionately. We’ve gone through this before, so many times that I knew exactly how it would play out. That was the problem when two people who once shared love were lonely; they somehow found each other. He grabbed my hand and led me to the dance floor where we moved in close. It was familiar, like reciting a favorite poem; each line, every pause, and rhyme was known. I rubbed against him and felt his excitement. My body sang, it was alive, and it wanted this. It needed this, even though it was wrong.

  Jake moved the bottom of my romper to the side and touched me. He liked the fact that I wasn’t wearing panties. “You’re so fucking naughty,” he whispered. He was so hard, and I whispered to him how hard he was. He told me how wet I was, but I already knew because my body begged for him. It was too much, being there with him like that. I knew I should stop before we did something that we would both regret later, but I didn’t. Though it’d been years since I had sexually been with him, the outcome would be the same. Before I could think about it anymore, his lips were pressing against mine, and I temporarily lost myself in the moment. Before it went any further, I pulled away.

  “We can’t do this, Jake,” I whispered. It was like no one else was in the room. Hurt filled his eyes, and I knew what we had done—opened a wound that had not fully closed. Time was supposed to heal wounds, but not this one.

  His arms fell from my waist, and I took a few steps back then turned around and walked away. I didn’t look back as he said my fake name, and I didn’t stop.

  “Katie,” he said. “Katie, stop.”

  But I kept walking. I walked up the stairs to another area of the club with hopes of getting away. Regret washed over me with a need to forget him and his touch.

  Tonight was supposed to be about having fun, not digging a knife into old scars.

  In the center of the dance floor, I completely let go. The music moved through me, captured and carried me to a new place. I was lost in my own world, moving my body. Hands
fell on my waist and I looked into golden brown eyes. I didn’t say no as he pulled me closer. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. After a minute, I turned around and rubbed my ass on him to the beat of the music. A hearty, genuine laugh escaped from his lips, and I could feel him through his pants.

  “Hi, pretty girl.” He grabbed my waist tighter and rubbed his confined hard-on against me as he laced his fingers with mine. Then we danced. We danced like there was no one else around us. It was animalistic, it was sexual, and it was fucking hot. It was like sex with our clothes on, and I was panting by the time the song ended.

  “I want you,” he whispered, and I nodded my head, agreeing. Perfect lips, black hair, and a rock hard body were everything I needed to take me away. He guided me over to the covered balcony on the opposite side of the room. As he leaned down to kiss me, a woman walked up beside him. She was blond, same height as me, and gave a nod of approval. They were together, and excited that he’d found me. I didn’t know how to feel about him being there with someone, but she didn’t seem to mind. If she didn’t, then I surely didn’t. He brushed his thumb over the outside of my hand and guided me to the hot tub. A couple fucked against the edge of it, but that didn’t stop us. The woman leaned over and unzipped his pants, as he pulled off my romper. After lightly brushing my hair from my shoulder, he whispered in my ear, “You consent, right?”

  “Yes,” I said breathlessly.

  The three of us were naked. Our bodies pressed against one another. He kissed me while she kissed up and down his body. He held out his hand and smiled as I stepped inside the hot tub. The water was warm and the jets massaged my muscles that were aching from dancing so hard. The masks still covered our faces. Strands of warm lights were hung above. The glow helped set the mood.

  Lust guided us to the next level, and I wanted to devour him. He grabbed my chin and asked me if I wanted him. I sucked in a deep breath and exhaled a “yes.” Next thing I knew, he was rolling a condom over his dick then his hands were on my hips. He watched me watch him. I was frozen in place. Could I do this? Could I really do this? Orleans was all about sex, but for some reason I was hesitant.

 

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