by Donna Alam
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Books by Donna
Trouble by Number Series
(Standalone titles)
One Hot Scot
Two Wrongs
One Dirty Scot
The Pretty Series
Pretty Hot
Pretty Liar
Pretty Things
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A Night At The Den
By Donna Alam
Copyright © 2017 Donna Alam
Published By: Donna Alam
Copyright and Disclaimer
The moral right of this author has been asserted.
All rights reserved. No parts of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the express permission of the author
This book is a work of fiction. Any reference to historical events, real people or real places are used fictitiously. All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Donna Alam
Chapter 1
Lizzie
‘I can’t do this anymore. It’s over, David,’ I said as I packed a bag. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow for the rest of my stuff.’
‘What can I do to make you change your mind?’ he asked. Though his expression was sad, it was unconvincing. I wasn’t fazed. Things had been going wrong for some time. We’d both checked out mentally weeks ago.
‘Nothing, David. This isn’t working anymore. You know it’s true,’ I replied, trying to let him down easy. This didn’t have to hurt. Though I guessed it if was going to hurt anywhere, it was likely to be his pride.
‘What do you mean? Why not?’
The male ego is a strange thing. We were living like roommates—he’d been phoning it in sexually for months. He wasn’t interested in me and I didn’t need to stay with him just for the status quo.
‘I want to go explore the world and experience new things,’ I said, ‘while you . . . you’re a homebody. I’m sorry, but that’s just not me. I’m a free-spirit. And right now, I need to spread my wings.’
His eyes glossed over like he was about to cry. I didn’t want him to cry. We just weren’t worth it and hadn’t been for some time. ‘I can be a free spirit. What do you want to do? I’ll do it. I’ll go where ever you want to go.’
‘I couldn’t ask that of you,’ I said. It wasn’t him and it wasn’t me. It was us.
‘But, I love you. I’ll do anything for you—just tell me what I need to do.’ He was almost begging and it was too much to take.
I ran upstairs and into the master bathroom. I grabbed my travel bathroom bag from under my sink and packed it full of my make-up, deodorant, make-up brushes, a hair brush, hair ties, my toothbrush, and the other random necessities I knew I would need for the next few days.
When I went back downstairs, David hadn’t moved from his spot and he had a magazine open. So much for heartbreak.
‘So you’re really doing this? You’re leaving for real?’
I put my hand up to stop him from talking, not interested in prolonging the pointlessness. ‘Please don’t make this any harder. I’ll be by later for my things.’
My stomach churned as I walked out the door without turning back. It wasn’t the idea of what was behind, but rather what lay in front.
I climbed into my car, and backed out of the driveway.
I knew where I was headed, someplace exclusive and secret. Something I recently found out about from one of the girls at work. It wasn’t the reason to end my two-year long relationship with David. But it was a way of cutting the ties. Of not going back. At twenty-five years old, I needed nothing more than to break out and be free. I needed to experience things I would never get to experience if I stayed with him.
He wasn’t a bad guy, but he just wasn’t the right guy for me. We were like oil and water, we just didn’t mix. He didn’t excite me anymore. No tingles when his number flashed up on my phone. No rushing home to meet him after a night with the girls. The most excitement we had together was binge watching his Doctor Who DVD collection. I did it for him in the beginning—curled into his side, as his eyes stayed glued to the screen. But that had stopped a long time ago. Along with Doctor Who, David barely held my attention these days.
And the feeling was mutual.
After an hour of driving, I pulled into a car park near my destination, almost baulking at the ridiculous city parking fees. Just as I killed the engine, my phone started ringing. It was David. I really didn’t want to talk to him. It wasn’t a case of prolonging the agony, but more the aggravation. It’s just his ego, I told myself again, hitting the reject button and sending him to voicemail. Then I turned my phone off and put it in my glovebox. I didn’t want to deal with anything other than pleasure tonight.
‘Am I really doing this?’ I asked myself, flipping down the visor and staring at myself in the mirror. I fluffed my dark bangs and ran a finger under my mascara to straighten the lines. This night had been on my mind for weeks now. I wasn’t going to talk myself out of this. ‘Hell yes, I am,’ I answered my reflection, getting out of the car.
I got out of the car and made my way to the place. To the outside, it looked like the rest of the buildings in the street. Genteelly elegant, sash windows and a brass letter box. Carefully manicured bay trees sat in pots, flanking the door. I pressed the buzzer, recited my name, the door springing wide. My stomach tied in knots as I stepped over the threshold.
Inside, the lights were low and the staff at the registration table welcoming, but as I walked into a room to my right, the ambiance changed. God, it was sexy.
My nerves were dancing, but I felt more excited than nervous. I’d wanted to do something like this since the girl in the office next to mine had told me she’d been here one night with a date. The way she described it, I’d felt like a voyeur to her world, and I’d been saving to pay for a month-long membership for what seemed like a very long time.
The Lion’s Den wasn’t at all like I pictured. It was classy—a stylish bar area that resembled a sophisticated parlor. At least until you took a closer look at the art work and photographs hanging on the walls. But still, the place was definitely high end which made me thankful for the black lace cocktail dress I’d decided to wear. I was happy to see there was a bar, even if I’d already been told it was a three-drink maximum. A good idea for those who plan to play.
Music played in the background and a lone barman stood at the far end of the bar serving someone. I could’ve been in any bar in any hotel. I took a seat, the was pretty empty except for one other girl at the opposite end. She was staring intently at her cocktail and I wondered if she’d been stood up.
When I’d first heard of the place, this was not what I pictured. I’d thought it would be modern, brash, and flashy, not something that looked more like a gentleman’s club.
‘What can I get you?’ the bartender appeared in front of me. He couldn’t have been more that about twenty-two and he was totally hot. As he smiled a flirty curl of his lips, I reminded myself he wasn’t what I’d paid my membership for. I could head to a club and pick up his baby-faced inexperience kind any day.
‘Coming right up,’
he said, after I placed my order. Hendricks with a slice of fresh lime and a splash of tonic.
I watched as he grabbed a glass and threw in a few ice cubes. Then, he grabbed tonic water and the bottle of Gin. He poured the ingredients into the glass, adding a slice of lime, then he threw in a small straw and slid the glass over to me.
‘There you go,’ he said, the sexy smile not leaving his face. He was fun to watch. Lithe movements and long fingers and I guessed he liked the attention.
‘Thank you.’ I took a sip while I stared at him. It was fun to play—I was good at making men want me, at teasing them with my sweetness, hinting at what lay behind my innocent smile. I’d expected my talent to be a little rusty but according to his expression, I hadn’t lost it. It felt good to put my talents to good use.
‘What brings you to the Lion’s Den?’ he asked as he wiped down the bar.
‘Just seeing what it’s all about,’ I answered blandly.
I turned around on the bar stool and watched as a man and woman walked by. The man was older, maybe in his fifties, though the girl looked to be about my age. They sat on a sofa and began making out almost instantly, his hand slipping under the hem of her dress and making her moan. I bit my lip. They were so into each other and so sexy to watch. My cheeks heated as though my thoughts could be read, but as I cast my eyes around I could see I wasn’t the only one. The woman who’d been staring at her drink was now watching them avidly and a man by the window looked to be rubbing himself over his pants. I’d never felt more turned on in my life. Oh, God, I was so happy to be here and so eager to start. This was the kind of excitement I craved.
I wanted to have sex with a stranger. I wanted to experience the kinds of high I never had before. No strings-attached-sex was exactly what I was looking for.
‘Is this your first time?’ the bartender asked from behind me, bringing my attention back.
I’d forgotten for a moment he was there. He was still giving me the flirty eye so I leaned onto the bar, displaying my cleavage to full effect. As I’d expected, his eyes found their aim pretty fast. Then I ran a finger over the neckline of my dress, his eyes following the motion.
‘What makes you think this is my first time?’ I asked all innocence and virtue.
‘The way your bit your lips you watched them make out. The way your cheeks went red.’
‘Maybe I just enjoy watching.’ My words came out a little sultrier than I intended. The bartender gave me a reluctant smile as he was called to the other end of the bar by the lady looking at her cocktail, who’d told him she wanted to settle her tab.
The bartender told her the total and she handed him the money. She looked embarrassed and I was more than sure she had just been stood up. I felt a bad for her, but there was nothing I could do.
As she turned the corner I noticed two men sidestep her. They both turned and looked at her ass. They said something to one another and then looked over at the bar. I looked away, a little embarrassed that they caught me looking. Caught them ogling.
Boys will be boys, I thought and then reminded myself I was here to be objectified. Yep, I wanted the hell objectifying out of me tonight.
I slammed my drink back and placed the glass down.
‘Another?’ asked the bartender.
‘Yes, please,’ I said, regaining my confidence and rearranging myself and my dress on the stool.
He mixed up another drink as the two men walked past me. They both looked to be in their early thirties, and from what I could see, in pretty good physical shape. One of them looked directly at me as he passed and I felt my cheeks heat again. He gave me a cheeky wink and kept walking with his friend.
They sat down at the other end of the bar and spoke in hushed tones, not sparing a glance for the pair making out, even though the girl was now writing in his lap.
So hot.
The pair were both wearing expensive looking suits and it made me wonder if they were here on business or pleasure. Either way, I was interested in finding out.
‘Where’s the ladies room?’ I asked the bartender.
He pointed to a sign above a hallway. I would have to walk past the men to reach it, giving them a chance to stare at my ass this time.
‘Thanks. I’ll be right back,’ I said and made my way to the bathroom.
‘Damn,’ one of the guys said to the other. I looked over my shoulder and saw them both staring. So I gave returned that flirty wink and then went down the hallway to find the women’s restroom.
The bathroom was empty when I entered it. I walked up to the wall of mirrors and assessed my hair and make-up. I looked pretty good, I decided. No make-up smudged and my curly dark hair was still behaving itself, which was a bonus. I pulled on the neck of my dress adjusting my cleavage. A girl need to make the most of her assets for sure.
I left the bathroom and to my disappointment, the two men were no longer sitting there. I wasn’t sure where they went and I wasn’t going to go looking for them. I wanted to be hunted, not the hunter. A treasured prize. Feeling a little flat, I decided it was early yet and just went back to my bar stool and my drink.
A few minutes later, as I finished my second drink, one of the two guys appeared by my side.
‘Do you mind?’ he asked pointing to the seat next to me.
‘Of course not.’ Along with the words, I flashed him a small smile.
‘You’re here alone?’ he asked as he sat down. I noticed a hint of disbelief in his voice.
‘Yeah. Why is that surprising?’ I asked.
‘Because beautiful young women don’t normally come here by themselves.’
I laughed. ‘You sound like you come here a lot.’ Which told me a lot. Good. I want my fuck tonight to be experienced. I studied his face. He was handsome. Dark, inviting eyes. A little stubble on his jaw. Lips that were full and pink and far too tempting. And his smile? It said I’d know what I want, and that was sexy as hell.
‘I do,’ he admitted, though there wasn’t an ounce of shame in his tone. ‘I come here a lot.’ He put emphasis on the word ‘come’ and my body tingled as I imagined him fucking a harem of girls.
David was the oldest guy I had been with and he was only Twenty-seven. This guy was at least thirty-five and looked so together and so professional—I doubt he’d spend his downtime wearing sweat pants and watching Doctor Who. The thought of fucking a guy so much older than me turned me on so much. I’m not sure of the reason, but there’s always been something about older men that I’d always found hot.
I bit my lip and turned back to my second drink, finishing it just as the bartender walked over.
‘Would you like another?’
I watched the look that passed between the bartender and the guy I was sitting next to. They seemed to be sizing each other up, eye’s burning and the tension so thick it was almost palpable. Rather than worry or concern this only added fuel to the fire building inside. My panties felt damp, my skin tight and my nipples needy, but in the absence of a plan I cut their angry connection by ordering another drink.
‘Yes, please. Hold the tonic this time,’ I said airily.
‘So, just gin. Would you like it in a shot?’
I nodded. I guess I could have ordered just a shot, but I wasn’t really thinking straight.
‘Put it on my tab,’ the guy next to me commanded, sending me another smoldering look.
‘Thank you . . . ?’ I said, dragging my words out in the quest for his name.
‘Samuel,’ he replied. ‘But, the pretty ladies call me Sam.’
‘Thank you, Sam,’ I said in a sort of giggle. I’m not the giggling kind, but the gin had gone very quickly to my head. I was suddenly glad of the three-drink limit in the place. ‘My name is Lizzie.’
The bartender put a shot glass on the table and poured the gin. He slid it to me and I took it down in one gulp, cringing a bit as it burned the back of my throat.
It tasted like bitter medicine and I was fooling no one.
‘What bring
s you to a place like this?’ Sam asked.
‘Why does anyone come to a sex club?’ He threw back his head and laughed.
‘Companionship,’ he countered, flashing me a sexy smirk.
‘Call a spade a spade, Sam, and we’ll get along just fine.
‘Someone who knows what she wants. I like that in a girl.’
‘I aim to please,’ I replied sending him my own version of his smile.
‘Come on, really. What brought you here tonight. I haven’t seen you before, so I know this is your first time.’
‘Well, I broke up with my boyfriend today,’ I said with a shrug. ‘But I’m not looking for pity. I’m pretty happy about it.’ I looked at the bartender ‘Can I get sparkling water, please?’
‘On your tab, is it, sir?’ the bartender asked Sam, seeming to understand he no longer had a chance with me.
‘Yes, of course. Whatever her heart desires,’ Sam purred.
I rolled my eyes at the cheesiness of what he said, but muttered my thanks as the drink was placed in front of me.
Sparkling water. Ice. Lime.
‘So, why’d you come here if you broke up with your boyfriend?’ Sam asked.
‘Why aren’t I heartbroken you mean?’ Sam chuckled. ‘Let’s just say I need some excitement in my life. I’m not looking to dull heartbreak or anything.’
He lifted an eyebrow. ‘And what kind of excitement are you looking for?’
‘I’m in a club with a very specific clientele, Sam. You look like a bright man. I’m sure you can work it out.’
‘Ah, but there’s sex and there’s fucking? And then there are those who like to watch.’ My heart began to beat pitter-pat at his coolly spoken words—words contradicted by the avidness of his gaze. ‘This place offers so much. I’m asking what you want.’
‘A one-night stand with a man who knows what he’s doing.’ The words were put of my mouth before I could stop them. I curled my lips inwards, wishing I hadn’t spoken, then changed my mind. ‘And older man, more specifically.’
‘That’s more like it. No kinks or quirks to be catered to?’
