Verlaine’s parents were sitting on the worn sofa, untangling a string of ancient fairy lights, and Ellie and Rebecca were standing by the fake Christmas tree in the corner, decorating it with glass trinkets that should’ve been chucked out years ago.
Patty glanced up from the fairy lights, as Sam and the three men gathered in the open doorway.
“We’re going out now, Mom,” Verlaine said.
Patty glanced up, then she gasped.
“Sam, you look adorable! All four of you look so cute! Where is it you’re off to again?”
“Just into London,” Sam said. “Sorry to miss out on the Christmas decorations.”
“Oh it’s no problem. Maybe next year.”
“Yeah, hopefully.”
Jim frowned. “Why isn’t Rebecca going with you kids?”
Sam glanced over at Rebecca. Verlaine had said she’d expressed interest in coming along tonight, but he’d assured Sam that he managed to convince her it wouldn’t be her thing – without giving too much away. Sam hoped Rebecca didn’t know the details. She’d be devastated if Patty and Jim found out she was dragging their son off to a sex party – even if it was completely innocent. It was just the sound of it – Sam knew it would be shocking to most people.
Rebecca gazed at the glass bauble in her hands. “Verlaine said it probably wouldn’t be my thing. It’s okay.”
“Why?” Jim asked. “What kind of thing is it?”
“Just a party,” Verlaine said. “It’s no big deal. Shall we go? We don’t wanna be late.”
Jim held up his hand. “Wait, if Rebecca wants to go, she could put on a dress and get ready. It’s not really fair to leave her out. She’s a guest in your country, Sam.”
“I don’t think Rebecca does want to come,” Sam said. “I got the impression she’d rather stay here and put up the decorations. Shall we go?”
Scott made a show of looking at his wrist, even though he wasn’t wearing a watch. “Gosh is that the time? Come on – we’ll be late.”
“It’s fine,” Rebecca said forlornly. “You go and have fun. I’ll be okay here.”
Sam felt guilt crack inside her. She liked Rebecca and she didn’t want her to feel left out. But surely she wouldn’t be interested in coming to a party like this. And her presence would make Sam feel awkward. She was nervous enough as it was.
Verlaine gripped Sam’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go. Where’s your coat, baby?”
Sam turned. “Er, it’s in the hallway.”
“Okay. Come on.”
Patty stood up. “Verlaine, what’s the address of the venue? Just in case we need to contact you.”
Verlaine snapped defensively. “Why would you need to contact us? We’re only going to London – it’s where we all actually live, for god’s sake. What’s the big deal?”
Jim got to his feet and stood beside his wife. The atmosphere was thick, like sponge. “What’s the problem, son? Just tell your mother where you’re going and that’ll be the end of it.”
“Dad, I’m not sixteen – I’m under no obligation to tell you my movements.”
Patty held up her hands. “Okay, it’s doesn’t matter. Have a fun night wherever you’re going, and we’ll see you tomorrow.”
Ellie dropped a bauble to the wooden floor, which smashed noisily. Her stern expression flickered. “They’re going to an orgy.”
Patty’s mouth dropped open. “What!”
Verlaine threw his hands to his hips. “Mom, it’s no big deal. It’s not as seedy as it sounds.”
Ellie folded her arms across her chest. “That’s why Rebecca doesn’t want to go – because she still retains some dignity and decency. But I hear it’s something Sam’s wanted to try for a while. Don’t let us make you late.”
Sam glanced at Rebecca. She was smirking. Obviously she’d told Ellie. But who’d told Rebecca?
Sam turned to look at Verlaine. He was gazing guiltily at his mother.
Paul intervened. He glared at Ellie. “Listen, Moritica, we’re all adults, and we’re not doing anything illegal. So unless you’ve got any other snidey remarks, we’ll be off.”
Verlaine grasped Sam’s hand and gently pulled her away. “Come on, honey. Let’s go.”
Sam swivelled on her heel and strode out to the hallway, feeling the shame and embarrassment vibrate viciously in her skull. She was unable to understand why Ellie seemed to have this vendetta against her, but worse than that, she wished she’d been braver and stuck up for herself just now, knowing that she really hadn’t done anything wrong.
***
Striding over gravel in high heels was a risky business, but Sam wasn’t concerned about a twisted ankle at the moment, when her pride was so shamefully squirming in her stomach.
She propelled herself towards the T-bird, unsure whether to be angry with Verlaine, Rebecca, or Ellie. Everything felt blurry and surreal. What the hell was going on this Christmas?
Verlaine caught up with her and yanked open the passenger door. “Baby, it’s okay. I’m sure it’s not as bad as it seems.”
“Of course it is, Verlaine! Your parents think I’m a sexual deviant!”
“Come on, get in the car. Let’s get going.”
Sam folded her arms across her chest. “I’ll sit in the back with Scott. I need to be with someone I can trust.”
Verlaine sighed. “Alright.”
He opened the back door and waited for her to climb in.
“Thank you,” she said.
She shuffled onto the comfy leather seat and Scott climbed in next to her. Verlaine slammed the door behind them, then he and Paul got in the front. Verlaine flicked on the ignition, making the engine roar pretentiously.
Scott squeezed Sam affectionately on the knee. “Don’t worry, babes. It’ll be alright.”
“Thanks.”
“God, that Ellie’s a bitch, isn’t she?” Paul said. “Did you see how she just ignored the shattered bauble on the floor? It was as if she expected someone else to clear up the mess.”
“I know,” Verlaine said. “She’s always been a hard woman, even when I was a kid. But she’s my mom’s best friend – and don’t forget she’s just lost her husband.”
Scott smirked. “Yeah, and I bet I know where she lost him – under the floorboards!”
Sam laughed. Verlaine shot them both a disdainful glance in the rear-view mirror, so she stifled her sniggers.
He drove them in silence across the bumpy driveway and towards the coastal road. Excitement crept back into Sam’s heart as she realised she was leaving the nuthouse and heading back to civilisation. The only thing between her and normality now was a treacherous drive in this ramshackle car, which was currently straining painfully as it took them back down the cliff.
Sam glanced out the window and saw little flecks of rain smudging on the glass. Wonderful. A slippery road, an old car, and an upset driver. The atmosphere in here felt dingy like an abattoir, and the headlights dazzled brightly off the gloomy drizzle, reflecting back on them and hopefully not blinding Verlaine. The rhythm of the wipers ricocheted around the car, slicing into Sam’s ears, and chopping up the ringing time into uncomfortable second-long chunks.
Sam wanted to ask Verlaine to drive carefully, but she was worried that might piss him off even more. He was usually such a sweet man, but it was clear he’d felt embarrassed by the situation back there, too.
The dim coastal road lights reflected off Scott’s tender face. “Cheer up, Sam. I’m sure Verlaine’s parents don’t really care too much about this. It’s not that bad.”
“Patty looked devastated,” Sam said. “Did you hear what Ellie said – Sam’s been wanting to try a sex party for a while – like I was some sort of pervert.” Sam glanced out the window at the rain. “I wonder who told her.”
Verlaine sighed. “Rebecca guessed, baby. She must’ve told Ellie. I’m sorry, but I agree with Scott – it’s not as terrible as you think. And if we’re gonna go to parties like this, surely we shouldn’t b
e perpetuating the shame of it?”
Verlaine glanced over his shoulder at her and lifted his hands emphatically as he started to speak again. Paul interrupted. “Verlaine, keep your hands on the wheel and your eyes on the road, please. We don’t wanna end up at the bottom of the ocean.”
Verlaine grabbed the wheel and stared ahead of himself. “Look, all I’m saying is, if you want us to go to sex parties, then you need to be prepared for people to find out and possibly be shocked.”
“It’s true,” Scott said. “I’ve spent my whole life trying to make excuses for what I am, but I’ve found it’s best to just be honest. That takes away their power, you know? We’re not doing anything wrong. So don’t worry.”
“Exactly,” Verlaine said.
Sam sighed. “I know you’re right. I just feel so stupid. I’m not going back there tonight – I’m staying in London.”
Verlaine sounded annoyed. “Why?”
“You can stay there if you want, but I’m not. I’m meeting Gemma for lunch tomorrow anyway, so there’s no point. You can drop me home after the party and drive back here alone if you want to.”
Scott smiled kindly. “You can stay with us tonight, Sam. We’ll look after you, won’t we, Paul?”
“Yeah, course we will.”
Sam saw Verlaine’s eyes scan over Scott in the rear-view mirror. Then he reached over and turned on the radio, and that was the end of that conversation.
Chapter Eleven
The tension in the car loosened as Verlaine drove them back into London. Sam allowed her mind to unwind into the Christmas songs on the radio, which filled the car with happy vibes and nostalgia. When Mariah Carey’s ubiquitous All I Want For Christmas inevitably streamed in through the speakers, Sam burst into giggles.
“This song’s been following me around since October – it’s everywhere!”
The others launched into a fun conversation about how sad it was that Christmas seemed to start in August these days, and that the music hadn’t been updated since 1984.
Sam allowed her nervous excitement to spiral inside as Verlaine pulled the T-bird into the lavish car park of the venue. Scott had said that the party tonight was being held at a private members’ gym, but it looked more like a million-pound mansion from out here.
They all climbed out and made their way towards the entrance. Sam saw that the expensive vibe continued inside the building – the lobby was like a hotel foyer, with a marble floor, plush furnishings, and a water fountain containing koi carp. Sam noticed that the people milling around in here were dressed in smart clothes. It felt like a fabulous five-star function, and not at all like a sleazy sex party. The fact that Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas was also playing in here made her laugh with glee.
She held Verlaine’s hand, and they followed Paul and Scott over to an opulent glass counter, behind which an attractive woman stood. She was well-groomed and courteous, and Sam wondered whether they’d actually come to the wrong place.
Scott chatted with the woman as he showed her his ID and paid for all four of them. Then he turned and grinned. “Shall I give you the tour?”
“Please!”
Paul gestured to a cloakroom, where another attractive well-dressed woman was standing. “Do you want to put your coat in, Sam?”
“Oh, yeah, thanks.”
She struggled out of her coat, and Paul took it over to the cloakroom for her. She nervously smoothed down the front of her short dress and threw Verlaine a coy grin. He smiled back.
While they were waiting for Paul, Scott saw a straight couple he knew. They looked wealthy and professional, but there was a twinkle in their eyes that Sam didn’t often see in business people. They knew how to have fun; how to express themselves; how to enjoy what nature had given them, without feeling guilty or caring about what anyone else thought. Sam shook hands with them and saw they were both wearing wedding rings. They chatted with Scott for a moment about the gloomy weather, then they wished Sam and Verlaine an enjoyable first time, and strode away arm in arm.
“Are they married to each other?” Sam asked.
“Yep,” Scott said. “Same as me and Paul, I guess. They love each other but enjoy coming here for the experience. I think they’re a bit more open to sex with other people, but it’s all above board. I can tell they really respect each other.”
Sam smiled. “It feels very respectful in here. I thought there might be an air of desperation, but it’s just like being in a pub. Well, a posh bar, more like!”
“Totally,” Scott said. “Desperation doesn’t get you anywhere here. You need to play by the rules and respect everyone. If you act like an idiot, you’ll lose your membership, so everyone’s pretty decent. Unless you don’t want them to be, of course!”
Sam smirked at Verlaine. “What do you say, baby. Shall we stay decent tonight?”
He nervously put his arm around her. “Decent’s okay by me!”
Scott grinned. “I wonder what time Santa’s coming! We don’t wanna miss him!”
Sam giggled, trying to contain her lustful desire.
Paul re-joined them, so he and Scott led Sam and Verlaine through the lobby and towards a corridor.
Apparently this was the ‘corridor of delights’. Scott told her the names of the rooms as they inspected each one, looking in the huge windows as they passed. It was like being in a shopping precinct full of small boutiques, but this was the strangest form of window shopping Sam had ever done. Some of the rooms were kitted out with double beds, some with chairs, and some with harnesses and bondage gear. One of them was being used at the moment, and Sam watched as a woman dressed in red lingerie tied a naked man to a chair with leather straps, and the other man in the room eased his erection into the seated man’s mouth. The three of them seemed totally engrossed in what they were doing and were apparently oblivious to Sam and the others.
It was a bit like being a doctor in a mental asylum, coming to check on the patients. Except this was a liberal establishment where the therapy was physical.
Scott grabbed Sam’s hand. “Come on, I’ll show you the pool.”
As they entered the pool area, they were asked to take off their shoes and leave them in the rack, so Sam was suddenly her usual height of five-foot-four, but she didn’t feel too self-conscious, because everyone in here seemed really friendly. They were just having a good time, and apparently wanted everyone else to have a good time, too.
Sam had imagined a giant aquatic orgy when Scott had first mentioned the pool, but she was delighted to discover it was actually just a normal swimming pool – albeit the most lavish pool Sam had ever seen. She swam at the local pool once a week, but that was old, grubby, and usually overrun with splashy men trying to impress people with what they thought was a skilful butterfly stroke. This pool was the opposite of that. The walls were made of glass, for a start, so everyone outside having a smoke could see in. The tiles around the pool seemed to be marble, and the wooden sun-loungers were draped with fluffy white towels, for anyone to use. The water sparkled serenely and it looked warm and inviting, like a tropical ocean. There were only four people in the pool at the moment – three guys and one woman. They were standing in the tranquil water having a chat. But as Sam looked closer, she realised that one of the men was tenderly fondling the woman’s bare breasts. Sam wondered what they were talking about, and where that breast fondling was heading.
The Christmas music was being piped in here, too, but it was quieter than in the rest of the venue, which meant the atmosphere was very laidback. Suddenly, over the sound of the music and chatter, Sam heard a loud groan and realised there was a blonde woman lying on her back by the pool edge, receiving oral from a brown-haired woman.
Sam’s lust flashed up inside. She automatically turned away from the women, having been trained by society not to stare, and her eyes fell on a row of hot tubs, which were full of people lazily nattering or indulging in various sexual activities.
Sam glanced back to Verlaine and re
alised that Scott and Paul had drifted off to the pool edge and were smooching and touching each other.
“Shall we sit down?” she asked Verlaine.
He gestured to a sun-lounger. “Yeah, let’s soak up the atmosphere.”
They padded over and Verlaine leaned against the back of the sun-lounger, so Sam sat between his legs and snuggled into his arms. She suddenly felt awkward, because she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be doing, but she quickly relaxed as Verlaine’s fingers probed down the front of her dress and started to caress her breasts.
“You’re not wearing a bra,” he whispered.
She turned and kissed him. “No, but I am wearing other underwear, which I hope to show you later!”
He nibbled her ear. “I can’t wait to see it.”
Sam enjoyed the feel of her man touching her body as she watched Scott and Paul by the pool making an exhibition of themselves. Scott was standing at the water’s edge, slowly removing his top – which revealed his gorgeous upper-body, tattoos, and nipple piercing. He kissed Paul on the lips, then slid into the pool, still wearing his skin-tight trousers. Paul rolled his jeans up to his knees, then he sat down on the pool edge and dangled his legs in, as if he was a dad supervising his child at a swimming session. But things took a much more adult turn, as Scott positioned himself in front of Paul and started to undo his trousers.
Sam was captivated as Scott pulled out Paul’s hard cock and made a lavish show of licking it. He threw Paul a sultry look, then plunged his lips around Paul’s erection, making Paul gasp. Several people had stopped what they were doing now and were watching with interest. Paul leaned his weight back on his hands and watched his man sucking and teasing him into ecstasy. It didn’t take long for him to come strongly in Scott’s mouth.
Driving Me to Christmas (London Loves Book 5) Page 8
