Invitation to Pleasure: Open Invitation, Book 2

by Jasmine Haynes

  But again, she didn’t turn.

  She disappeared through the swing doors off the lobby. The viewing rooms. She enjoyed watching. He’d likely find her in the arena.

  He took the stairs quickly, his cock throbbing. Striding through the doors, he closed his eyes briefly as music assaulted him, the strobe light beating against his eyelids as it flashed up and down the hall from the room at the end. The arena. Where she could watch the stage show. Perhaps it would be a one-woman, three-man act, each filling a different orifice at the same time. She’d like that. Her pussy would be dripping. He could have her then. Bury himself in her. Make her scream when she came.

  Opening his eyes, a flash of peach and a silk-covered leg disappeared into a room on the left. So she wasn’t going to the arena. It didn’t matter. He would have her. Here. Where her passions were at their peak.

  * * * * *

  Virginia felt him, almost smelled him. A uniquely male scent oozing from his pores. Salty like an ocean breeze and hot like sweaty, sun-heated skin. The scent of a man just before he came in a woman’s mouth.

  She couldn’t say how long he’d been behind her. She hadn’t noticed him as she’d prowled the rooms with Stacy. But he was closer now, bolder in his perusal. She didn’t look. She had no desire to actually see him. It was like pulling alongside a sexy Jaguar XK-8 only to find it was driven by a sixty-year-old woman or a pockmarked man with his paunch hitting the steering wheel. The fantasy was so much better.

  And tonight was all about fantasy. After all, she’d have to live on this one night for the rest of her life. Better to imagine him as hot as his scent.

  Though she’d planned her evening at the club long before tonight, her anticipation peaked when she’d felt him behind her. He wanted her, his intent spiking the air. He’d do anything to have her, only her. No one else would do.

  Blossoming under his all-important, consuming desire, she led him exactly where she wanted him to go.

  Into the viewing area. A large room filled with octagonal cubicles, a small window cut into each side of the cloth-covered dividers. The long, rectangular cuts allowed only one person to view, or a couple standing close. Overhead lights illuminated the cubicles and kept the halls between in relative darkness. It gave a feeling of privacy to the onlooker while the eight sides allowed the bed inside to be viewed from all angles.

  The cubicle occupants, be they couples, threesomes, or loners, were there to be seen. Seen but not touched by their audience. There were strict rules about not entering.

  To be seen but not touched. Virginia was getting married tomorrow. Despite what Stacy might think, she wasn’t here to commit prewedding adultery. That wasn’t Virginia’s idea at all.

  She’d reserved her own cubicle in the back of the room. Threading her way through the maze, she didn’t stop to watch the activity. She had her own impressive show to contemplate. In the dim hall lighting, she passed a man jerking off, eyes intent on the spectacle inside.

  That’s what she wanted. A man so beyond himself with desire for her that he took his cock out and set his rhythm to hers. Right now, she wanted to feel her mysterious follower’s desperation as he watched her. Desperate for her.

  Desire bubbled through her veins as she stepped inside her cubicle. She’d called for black silk sheets and a mountain of pillows. Scented candles burned on a small table. She bent to remove her pumps. She couldn’t see through the windows, the smoked glass and the lights centered on the bed making the view virtually one-way. If she tried, she could make out an outline, but Virginia didn’t try. She wanted fantasy. She wanted to pretend a man watched her without her knowledge. She would perform in abandoned ecstasy, without inhibition.

  She laid her suit jacket over the back of a cloth-draped chair one might find in a boudoir. Her nipples were hard points against her lacy camisole. Lifting her skirt far above her knees and raising a leg to the chair seat, she rolled off one stocking, then the other, letting them drift down to settle on top of her jacket. Then she reached beneath her skirt to lingeringly touch the damp crotch of her thong before slipping it down her legs and tossing it to the carpet. Unzipping her skirt, she shimmied it over her hips, then let that, too, drop crumpled to the floor.

  A gaze caressed her bare backside. She imagined him touching her flesh, running a finger down her cleft. She bit her lip, then reached for the hem of her camisole and swiped it over her head. Her hair fell loose with the action, pulled from its knot to fall about her shoulders.

  The room was warm but not hot. Still, a slight sheen of perspiration speckled her skin. Salty. She imagined his tongue licking it off.

  Virginia always imagined a lover while she masturbated. A faceless lover who did whatever she asked, who made her come with his tongue against her clit and his fingers in her pussy.

  This time, he was out there watching. There were eyes at every window, gazes on every part of her body, but the thought of his stare let loose a bead of moisture between her thighs. She reached down, smoothing it away with the pad of her finger, glazing across her pubic hair, then lifted her hand to her mouth and sucked.

  The bed. She needed to spread herself for him, show him the pink folds of her pussy, the hard nub of her clitoris.

  She sank into the cushions, the black sheet soft and silky against her bottom. She started with her breasts, holding them aloft, plumping them, then pinched the tight nipples until they stung. Caressing her belly, she wriggled on the bed, shifting restlessly. Bringing her feet up, she let her knees fall wide, exposing herself directly to the window right in front of the bed. Her fingers slid through all the moisture, first inside, then back up to her clitoris. She stroked herself slowly with long caresses that started in her vagina and ended at the top of her slit, sweeping her clitoris over and over. Beneath the steady beat of the arena’s music, she thought she could hear him breathe. Did he have his cock out already? Or would he wait, letting the sight of her build his anticipation, his desperation, until he would come with only one stroke of his hand. Imagining his loss of control, she plundered her clit to a quick high, almost to the point of orgasm. Another moment, and she would have come, but that was far too soon.

  She rolled onto her stomach, rising to her hands and knees, pointing her ass to the window. She spread her legs, then dipped her hand low and back, to the outer edges of her anus. Returning to her pussy, she shoved two fingers inside and rode her hand. So good, so hot. It would drive him insane with need.

  She should have asked for a vibrator to use on herself, but the thought hadn’t occurred to her, not even in the Massage Parlor. It did now, and her juices soaked her fingers.

  She didn’t know how long she played with herself, how many positions she went through, or how many times she came close to orgasm, barely managing to pull back at the last instant. Her body thrummed, vibrated, and bucked on its own against her hand. She drenched the bed. Her ears rang.

  She dragged her finger over her clit, intending to hold herself just beyond orgasm for as long as she could, but it was the last time. Her body took over, going off by itself, out of her control. Orgasm rocketed through her womb, slamming into her heart, and shaking her limbs with its intensity. The screams of abandon filling her ears were her own.

  * * * * *

  His cock was on fire, and his balls ached with an unbearable need he couldn’t quench. But he didn’t touch himself. When he came, he wanted her to be watching.

  For now, all he could do was clench a fist on the window’s sill and drink in the sight of her gorgeous pussy, the scent of her sweet come, the echo of her passion ringing in his ears.

  She’d fucked herself in every imaginable position. Her juices on the bed, coating her thighs, shimmering on her fingers.

  He’d seen a lot of things, done a lot of things, but this was new. This was an abandon he’d never before witnessed, never before worshipped. She played her body like a maestro. She knew how to bring herself to the brink and not go off, how to keep herself rising and falling until t
he inevitable orgasm shot her into the heavens. He’d thought about taking her, shoving his cock deep inside her as she knelt before him on the bed. She’d teased every man in the room with that ass as she’d fucked herself with her fingers. Rules be damned, he’d almost gone in there and taken her. Earlier in the evening he might have done just that without a second thought.

  The last half hour had changed his strategy. There was so much more beneath her elegant business suit than he’d imagined. So much passion he’d never dreamed she possessed. He would have that woman. He would give her unimaginable pleasure.

  And that would take a foolproof plan to get her to reveal her inner self completely to him.

  Brett Branoff eased back from the window, fading into the shadows along the wall, and left the room. When he’d decided to follow her, it was to find out why his serene, ladylike, not particularly sexual fiancé had chosen The Sex Club as the party place for her final unmarried night, a fact he’d inadvertently stumbled upon. He wasn’t a jealous man in the main, but he had to admit to a certain inexplicable tension riding him until he realized her rendezvous was with herself. Now, he wanted to learn more about Virginia’s deepest desires. She liked to watch. More, she liked to be watched, something that appealed to his sexual nature. He’d unearthed something so much more intriguing than he’d ever expected.

  Tomorrow, he would make Virginia Hansen his wife.

  Then he’d find a way to release the woman he’d discovered at The Sex Club.

  Chapter Two

  “That was good.” After last night’s trip to the club, Brett wanted more from Virginia. He’d actually expected it. More involvement. More passion.

  Beside him, Virginia sipped her champagne. “Very good.”

  Brett propped his feet on the balustrade, his robe falling open over his legs, and rested his glass on his stomach. Sitting side by side on patio chairs, his forearm brushed Virginia’s as he settled. They’d turned out the lights and before them, the Las Vegas strip glowed across the skyline, illuminating the night. With the sunset long gone, the hot summer air had cooled to comfortable. Traffic noise and the cacophony of a million voices on the street drifted up to the penthouse terrace, muted by distance. They’d been married six hours ago, enjoyed a sumptuous dinner at a refined restaurant, then returned to the room where a chilled bottle of Dom Perignon had awaited them. After which they’d made love for the first time as man and wife.

  Brett waited for her to say more. She didn’t. Wrapped in her fluffy hotel robe, Virginia had curled her feet beneath her on the balcony chair, her champagne flute tucked to her chest, a faraway look in her eye as she gazed across the Las Vegas glitz.

  The look signified her level of participation in their lovemaking. He didn’t touch her on the inside. He wasn’t sure why watching her last night had changed his own level of participation, but it had. Tonight he’d made her come, but he hadn’t made her scream the way she had on the black silk sheets in the club the night before.

  Making her scream had become his new goal. But hell if he knew how to accomplish that. He’d rubbed her, gone down on her, thrust deeply in her body. She’d remained...uninvolved. As if sex were a duty to be performed, not a pleasure to be savored.

  Truly, before last night, he’d been satisfied with that. Virginia never displayed an inordinate amount of emotion. It was one of the reasons he asked her to marry him. He craved her serenity. He’d had emotional overload in his previous marriage. Life with Virginia as his wife promised calm seas ahead.

  Last night had given him a taste of something different, and he wanted it again.

  “So, what are your plans?” he asked.

  After several seconds, she turned, as if it took her a moment to realize he expected an answer. “For tomorrow?”

  “For our life.”

  She tipped her head, her gaze traveling his face, the glow of red, green, and blue neon reflected in her eyes. “Well, this week, I’ll finish cleaning out my apartment and moving the rest of my things over.”

  She’d spent the night occasionally and left her stamp on his condo with a few personal items, but they hadn’t lived together. “Then what?”

  She tipped her head the other way, as if she were seeing him for the first time and couldn’t figure out who he was. “You mean like when am I going to plan our first dinner party?”

  She’d make an exceptional hostess. In her professional life, she was executive assistant to the CEO of a major customer for his company. Which meant she managed her boss’s life with the same aplomb he expected she’d manage his. Another reason he’d married her. She’d be an asset to his career and his social life, which were one and the same. Since his divorce three years ago, he never did anything without a business goal in mind.

  Until now. “I was referring to something more global. Such as, are you going to quit your job?”

  She stared at him. After making love, she’d gone into the bathroom and repaired her makeup, fixing the hair and face she wore for the outside world. Her lipstick was perfect; even the sips of champagne hadn’t removed it. “I thought we discussed this, Brett, and we decided I’d keep my job. I don’t know what I’d do with myself all day if I wasn’t working.”

  Well, she could take care of him. He’d never been taken care of by a woman. With his ex-wife, he’d done the caretaking. He’d spent a lot of energy trying to manage her moods. In addition to her serenity, her competence, her single-mindedness and her efficiency, Virginia didn’t have moods. Thank God.

  “I didn’t expect that you’d quit. I just want you to know you can if you like. It’s up to you. You can do whatever you like, Virginia. I want this marriage to bring you a sense of freedom you’ve never had before. Marriage doesn’t mean a loss of freedom for either of us. I want you to indulge yourself in any way you choose.” Beneath the robe, his cock stirred to life with thoughts of how he’d like her to indulge herself.

  “Well, thank you, Brett. It’s nice to have choices. Still, I don’t want to give up my job.”

  Virginia drew much of her self-esteem from her work, just as he did. Perhaps if his ex-wife had kept her job, she wouldn’t have been so unhappy. But then, she’d married him so she wouldn’t have to work. Virginia had married him for the same reason he’d married her, because they complemented each other.

  He sipped his champagne in a silent toast to that. “Good, now that’s settled, how about doing something wild and crazy to celebrate our wedding?”

  She smiled. “I wouldn’t have suspected you were a wild and crazy man.”

  “Ah, I still have secrets then.”

  “What do you have in mind? We did the elegant dinner. Would you like to ride the roller coaster at the top of that hotel? I can’t remember the name of it.”

  “Actually I thought we should make love again. I don’t believe we’ve done that twice in one night.”

  Virginia laughed, with no undertones or hidden meanings, just pure amusement. “Oh my, you truly are wild. I’m shocked.”

  He set his champagne glass on the small table next to him. “Let me show you how much more wild I can get.” He dropped his feet to the terrace floor, unbelted his robe, and pulled the lapels apart. His cock had risen to half mast in anticipation.

  She gasped. “Brett. Someone might see you.”

  Where was the woman who’d stripped off her clothes and masturbated for strangers? He would bring her out in the open.

  “It’s dark, and we’re on the top floor.” He wrapped his hand around his cock and pumped slowly a couple of times. “Of course, someone might be using binoculars.”

  Bracing his feet, he pushed his chair back so that he could see her profile better. So that he could gauge her reactions. Her head followed his movement, her eyes riveted on his cock.

  A tiny drop of come oozed under her gaze, and his partial erection flared.

  “You like this, Virginia?” He hoped to stir her more erotic inclinations.

  Her lips parted, revealing the tip of her tongu
e. “It’s kinky.”

  He closed his fist around the crest of cock, gathering the moisture in his palm, then sliding back down. She’d gotten a hell of a lot kinkier last night. “Is that good or bad?”

  “It’s...surprising.”

  He wanted her to grab his cock and take over. Perhaps to crawl between his knees and suck him. Better yet, to part her own robe and touch herself.

  She did none of those things. She merely stared. Her robe was too thick to judge the state of her nipples, and over the noise of the traffic below, he couldn’t discern an alteration in her breath rate.

  Maybe she needed The Sex Club to set her loose.

  “Let’s both indulge ourselves, Virginia.”

  She almost seemed to drag her gaze from the slow pump of his hand to his eyes. “What do you want me to do?”

  Don’t ask, just do. “Whatever you want. Total freedom, remember?”

  “But, I don’t...” She didn’t finish.

  All right, she needed a little help releasing herself in front of him. Perhaps that was the club’s secret. Anonymity. She’d never have to see those men again. She didn’t have to get up beside them in the morning or brush her teeth at the other sink in the bathroom.

  “Stand between my legs.”

  She rose, holding the folds of her robe tight around her. He spread his legs to accommodate her.

  “Open your robe and pull it apart. Let your fingers trail your nipples as you do.”

  She parted the upper lapels first, her fingers grazing her breasts. In the glow of the city lights, he could see they’d risen to hard nubs. Untying the robe and pulling the sash loose, the terry cloth fell open to reveal her slightly rounded belly and blond bush two shades darker than her hair.

  She stopped, having done what he told her to and no more.

  Okay, he was getting her unspoken message. She’d obey his instructions, but she wouldn’t take the initiative. He could work with that.