by S. Valentine
“Yes!” She squeezed her hand. “Mallory doesn’t mind. She’ll have her own before we know it.”
“I’d be honored, Suze.”
Gabi watched as Darion gulped back his whisky. When he set his empty glass down on the table, she noticed him taking in Suzie’s stomach. “When are you due?”
“Eight months and approximately two weeks,” Suzie informed him, her face lighting up, looking like she’d burst with excitement.
“Yeah, and she’ll probably be one of those lucky women that doesn’t show until they’re ready to pop,” Mallory said.
“My mom was like that,” Gabi informed her.
“I know it’s a long way off, but I’d like you to come to the christening.” Suzie was now focused on Darion.
Gabi swallowed the lump that had lodged in her throat. She waited with bated breath for Darion’s response. Would they still be together in eight months? Did Darion think that far ahead?
With a tight smile, Darion asked, “Are you having a boy or girl?”
Despite knowing he liked to live each day as it comes, Gabi couldn’t help disappointment deflating her from his clever avoidance of giving an answer.
“We won’t find out until I’m further along.”
“Well, congratulations.” Darion rose to his feet. “Anyone want another drink?”
“Sure. I’ll have a G&T,” Mallory responded.
What the hell, Gabi thought, deciding she wanted something strong. She all of a sudden felt too sober for her liking. “I’ll have another Cosmopolitan.”
Darion leant down and brushed his lips against hers. Gabi watched after him as he plunged through the crowd. Feeling the weight of Suzie’s stare, she turned to face her.
“I’m pleased for you, Gabi,” she gushed. “He seems perfect.”
It was exactly what an outsider would think. Little did they know there was certainly more to Darion than met the eye. Gabi knew the other surprises he had in store would soon be revealed. An invitation to the playrooms at The Black Door was near. She had a feeling.
Chapter Twelve
Gabi popped two paracetamols in her mouth and washed them down with water. When she’d returned the glass to the table, she stretched her aching limbs with an inward groan. She flopped back on the bed and massaged her throbbing temples with her fingertips. She wondered how she’d ever be able to drag herself out of bed. She didn’t usually suffer from hangovers, but she supposed it was inevitable with the amount of alcohol she had consumed last night. A whole day in bed seemed extremely tempting. A romantic comedy was playing on the television and Darion was next to her.
Not really focusing on the movie, Gabi rolled onto her side and offered him a small smile.
“Tell me about your family,” she asked softly, wanting to know as much as possible about Darion and his life.
He leant back and chewed his bottom lip for a second. “I don’t like to talk about my family, Gabi.”
“Why not?” she pried, sitting up.
Darion rubbed the heel of his palm against his chest as if in discomfort or pain. “My childhood wasn’t anything to rave about.”
Gabi pursed her lips, her mind racing. She opened her mouth to speak but Darion cut her off.
“I told you before; my dad was a drinker, and my mom worked two jobs to keep everything together.” He raked a hand through his hair. “As a kid, I was either in strip joints or at home, alone.”
Gabi threw him a sympathetic look. “What are they like, though?”
“Bitter. They both hate their life.”
“Why?”
“My mom dreams of a career she never got to have, and my dad’s making up for lost time, gallivanting with different women.”
Gabi’s mouth fell. “Does she know that he cheats on her?”
Darion shrugged a shoulder. “If she does, she doesn’t care. There’s no intimacy between them. She got pregnant at twenty…they got married.”
Gabi hugged her knees to her chest. Darion had obviously not had a good role model to look up to. Throughout his life, he had witnessed or experienced infidelity. His dad cheated on his mother, and Darion had been betrayed by several girlfriends in the past, not to mention his ex-wife Eva. No wonder he had fears of commitment. Did he even know what a ‘normal’ relationship was like?
She wondered if there were any good points about his parents, whether he looked like them, whether she’d ever meet them. Curiosity niggled away at her. Was Darion’s inability to share his feelings for others a fault of his parents, or Eva? Judging by him being dragged along to strip joints as a child whilst his father downed beer after beer, it was clear Darion had been neglected. He must have been lonely. Did that have any bearing on his enjoyment for swinging, the fact that he liked being the centre of attention, that a lot of women wanted him? Or was it because polygamous relationships were all he’d mostly ever known?
Rolling onto his side, he leant on his elbow. “What about you?”
“I’m really close to my parents.” She pressed her lips together to prevent herself from grinning like an idiot. “I should visit them more, really. They go on holidays a lot so I never know when they’re home.”
“And your brother?”
“Samuel’s in the army.” She felt herself swell with pride. She realised that she missed her family. She paused before asking carefully, “So, what about your sister?” She silently prayed that he at least had a close relationship with her.
“Dion?” He stretched out his legs, as a grin appeared on his face. “She’s a pain in the ass.”
“Why?”
“We fight all of the fucking time.” He laughed. “We haven’t spoken in a while, but we will.”
“What’s she like?”
“Surprisingly, she’s a good girl. She has a daughter. Odelia.” He shook his head. “Another reason we fought…what a name.”
“It’s different.”
“I call her Jane just to piss her off.”
Gabi giggled. “Do you want children one day?” Please say yes, please. She waited with bated breath for his answer. Gabi adored children. Becoming a mother was something she looked forward to.
“I haven’t given it much thought.” He paused. “Me and Eva never discussed it. We were too wild, too crazy for children.”
Gabi bowed her head. “But you’re still wild and crazy.”
“You could say that.”
A heavy uncomfortable silence hung in the air. Gabi couldn’t help but wonder if Darion would ever grow up one day, take life seriously. Did they even want the same things in life? Stop overthinking things, Gabi, she scolded herself. Take things one day at a time. It was still early-ish days.
Darion leant over, grabbed a box of cigarettes, and lit one. She watched as he took a puff, blowing the smoke out of the side of his mouth. His jaw was shadowed with more stubble than usual. Gabi liked it. She ran her fingers through his hair, openly admiring him.
“Anyway.” He held the cigarette between his fingers as his lips curled upwards. “Last night was good. You should go commando more often.”
Gabi didn’t speak.
“Next time you can dance with other men…commando…whilst I watch.” His voice had taken on a low, seductive tone.
She rolled onto her back. Last night, it’d felt a little thrilling having had no underwear on. To dance with other men, to grind against them, to have their hands on her waist, perhaps even on her buttocks―she wasn’t sure how she’d feel about that. Darion would be sitting back, enjoying the show, wanting her all hot and bothered. He’d want her ready for him. Would Darion studying the scene make her want to put on a little show, or would it make her feel dirty?
If the tables were turned, and it was Darion dancing with other women, with his hands roaming, she doubted she could handle it.
“How can it turn you on watching me get close to other men?” She turned to face him once more. “I don’t get it.”
“Gabi.” He took a final drag on his cigarette, t
hen stubbed it in the ashtray. “It turns me on knowing that men want you, that they want to fuck you, that they’re hot for you…and only I can have you.” He skimmed the back of his hand along her cheek gently. “Mild jealousy triggers something in me.”
Mild jealousy? If the time came in the playrooms at The Black Door, and he’d want her to sleep with other men, she definitely didn’t class that as mild.
Sensing her confusion, Darion explained, “You know how some people get a thrill with having an affair, or the risk of getting caught doing something forbidden?”
She nodded.
“The thrill is similar. When I see men flirting with you, I feel smug, I get competitive. I get these intense emotions, and I want you then and there.”
“Yeah, but you want them to have me…in the playrooms at the club.”
“Having your body…” His finger now traced down to her collarbone, “and having your mind, your heart…” He trailed down to her chest, “are two different things.” His gaze was intent on her. “I don’t want an open relationship, Gabi. Emotionally, I want you all for me, but sexually, I like to take it to the top.” His tongue wet his lips before he smiled slowly and wickedly. “The playrooms don’t count as infidelity.”
“I don’t think I’m ever going to understand it, Darion.”
“Gabi, you show me a man that doesn’t want to fuck loads of different women, and I’ll show you a liar…but it doesn’t mean I don’t care for you. I would never cheat, and I would never go behind your back.” His eyes were so sincere she sort of believed him. “Okay.” He sat up straighter, the covers falling from his chest. “Tell me an addiction of yours.”
She traced her finger along her bottom lip, deep in thought. She adored clothes, shoes, handbags, chocolate, but she could live without them. “I don’t know,” she responded honestly.
Darion smoothed his hair back. “Well, whatever it is, this addiction of yours, imagine spending most of your life succumbing to this addiction. You love everything about it, the taste, the smell, the rush, the way it makes you feel. You can’t go on without it.” Darion paused to reach for his water, and gulped half of it back. “And one day, someone tells you that you shouldn’t do it ever again, because of their own personal opinion. Could you do that? Could you give up something you enjoyed because someone else didn’t share the same enthusiasm for it…because they couldn’t understand it?”
Gabi could see how Darion sold the playrooms to people so easily. He certainly was persuasive. “It would be hard,” she confessed. “But I’d do it if I had to.”
“But I don’t feel I have to give up swinging.” Darion inhaled a deep breath. “I’m not hurting anyone, Gabi, and believe it or not, I know when to draw the line.”
Gabi twiddled with her nails.
He gently guided her by the chin, so that her eyes met his. “Does the lifestyle I lead hurt you?”
It hadn’t, as of yet. Neither of them had swapped partners in the playrooms. Gabi, although fearful of the playrooms and what could happen, was also consumed by curiosity. She guiltily found herself wanting to know more, to see more. Would she ever become comfortable with the lifestyle Darion was accustomed to? Darion always said, ‘How can you knock something until you’ve tried it?’
Would she eventually be hurt by it all? Averting her stare, she said, “I don’t know. We haven’t reached that stage yet.”
“And when we do…” He leant down and placed soft, lingering kisses on her lips. “You let me know if it hurts you. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” She nodded, before sliding down under the covers. Resting her head on Darion’s lap, she closed her eyes.
***
Darion
Darion ran his fingers through Gabi’s soft blonde hair repeatedly. He breathed out a sigh of relief. Gabi seemed open to continuing to give the playrooms a try. The Black Door was his professional and personal lifestyle.
Some women in his past, nothing but brief encounters, had been disgusted by the club. It agitated Darion a little when people were close-minded when it came to swinging, when they were judgmental, believing it was seedy when it was far from it. Who said by not sticking to the one person, that you couldn’t possibly love them? Society had been brainwashed into believing that people should commit to one person, get married, bed that one person for the rest of their existence. Why? Sexual attraction was part of human nature.
The ancient artwork, whether it was paintings, scrolls, tapestries, or statues showed that orgies were not uncommon amongst the Egyptians, the Greeks, the Romans, and the Celts especially. Sexual freedom and frolics wasn’t frowned upon then. Then there was the ‘free love’ of the sixties and the ‘swinging seventies’ era. It didn’t matter what gender, nationality, religion, job, beliefs a person had, they were all drawn by sex. Besides, if the world needed anything spreading, it was love.
When it came to steady relationships, Darion had realised he could separate sex from feelings. He could get intimate with a hundred other women, and know that it was for nothing more than his own sexual gratification. The way he felt about Gabi, the feelings he had for her, as far as he was concerned, wouldn’t be tarnished in any way.
He glanced down at her. She was snoring lightly. Even though she was sleeping, he could see a frown on her face. His little worrier. He leant down. His lips claimed hers. She didn’t stir when he then placed tender kisses along her cheek.
“I love you, darlin’,” he whispered into her ear, although he knew she wouldn’t hear.
It seemed to be easier that way. It had taken him a long while to finally say those words to another woman. He prayed he’d never regret saying them.
Chapter Thirteen
Darion sat at the bar, enjoying a glass of whisky, watching Lexi and Wendy work the poles on the stage. “Porn Star Dancing” by My Darkest Days was blaring from the speakers. He focused on their seductively moving bodies. They writhed slowly, their fingers teasing the sensitive parts of their bodies, down their collar bone, skimming their nipples, running down their stomach, and between their legs.
Their come-to-bed eyes swept over the audience, naughty grins plastered on their faces tempting customers into paying for private dances. They twirled around the poles, their flexible bodies twisting into shapes that made him groan inwardly in torment. He averted his stare. It was too much to handle. His dancers were hot. Although he trusted himself, he didn’t want to sit there frustrated, whilst being prick-teased. He stood up and made his way toward the bathroom.
Once inside, he cupped cold water in his hands and splashed it on his face. Slowly rising, he confronted his reflection in the mirror. His disheveled hair was hanging loose. Oh well. Some women seemed to go wild for the rough and rugged look anyway. He stroked his jaw, the stubble rough on his fingertips. He could have done with a shave. A haircut wasn’t a bad idea either, but Gabi begged him not to. She couldn’t get enough of him.
Feeling flushed and a little dizzy, he stripped off his jacket. He was pleased to see that he was still in good shape. His shoulders and arms had always been a decent size, even though he’d never exercised a day in his life. God had blessed him, and he’d blessed him well.
Leaving the bathroom, he returned to the bar. Taking his usual seat in the corner, Marnie approached him with a grin. Her dark hair was pulled into a high ponytail. Her breasts burst out of the tight top she was wearing, and her tanned, firm stomach was visible.
“Everything okay, boss?” she asked, pouring a glass of whisky.
“Yeah, darlin’. Everything’s good.” When she slid the glass toward him, he eagerly took a long swig. “How’s it going?”
“Not too bad.”
“How’s the new boyfriend?” he asked, not particularly caring about Marnie’s boyfriend’s well-being, but wanting to know if he was taking care of her.
“Things are actually going great.” She grinned.
“Well, anyone’s an improvement from Nick.”
“Hey, Darion,” Wendy
purred, approaching them and helping herself to a drink.
“Hey.” He took in the black haired beauty before him. He’d asked her to dance downstairs until Gina returned. He had no idea how long she’d be absent.
“It’s nice to see you not in the office for once.” Marnie ruffled his hair. “We miss you.”
Darion couldn’t stop from smiling as the girls lavished him with attention. They certainly made him feel popular. If only Gabi knew how difficult it was being in his line of work. Temptation was thrust in his face on a daily basis.
“Shit…looks like someone’s getting an ear-bashing.” Marnie jerked her head upwards.
Darion glanced over his shoulder. Lexi was marching toward him, a thunderous expression on her face.
“Don’t tell me.” He groaned. “Eva’s on your case again.”
“Aren’t you the genius?” She crossed her arms across her chest. “I take it you didn’t talk to her?” She shook her head, as her lips tightened into a thin line. “Look, Daz, I don’t wanna cause problems, but if this shit isn’t solved and quick, I’m doing a Gina and I’m leaving.”
He knew Lexi would never really leave, but he doubted he’d ever seen her so mad. “What’s she doing now?”
“Earlier she was in the stock room assessing everything, what we were low on, and barking orders on calls I needed to make.” She took a deep breath and Darion knew from her blazing eyes that she was on the verge of losing it. “And then she was criticising the dressing room, saying it needed a decent clean.” Her mouth fell open. “The dressing room is fine. You can go and look for yourself.”
“I believe you, Lex,” he said quickly. He rubbed his palms over his face in exasperation. “I’ll handle it.”
“I hope you do, because there is only so much I can take.”
Leaning back on his stool, he let out a heartfelt sigh. “Look.” He glanced at each of the girls. “You fancy a lock-in tonight? It’s been a while.”
Marnie’s hand flew to her chest. “You mean like the crazy parties we used to have?”
