by Livia Grant
When she leaves her sentence hanging in the air, he glances her way with an unreadable expression. “What is it Bri? Spit it out.”
“I guess sometimes I just want you to, well, take the reins and… well, maybe control our relationship more. I love that you always want to make me happy, but there are times, like last Friday, that I just wanted you to make the decision for me.”
It takes her a moment to summon the courage to continue. “In fact it’s not just about where we go to eat. It’s about other things too. I love that you just took charge tonight and made plans for us for dinner and dancing. I want to drink enough to get tipsy and then do some dirty dancing with you at the club and then when we get home tonight, I’d really love it if you would just take charge. You know what I mean?”
Markus is back to staring at the road and an awkward silence invades the small car before he finally quietly asks a simple question. “Bri, are you happy being married to me?”
His question is so surprising she blurts out her answer more aggressively than she intended. “Where the hell did that question come from? I tell you I want you to be more authoritative and you turn it into thinking I’m not happy with our marriage?” Before Markus can speak again she continues on with much more passion in her voice. “I love you Markus. I know I’m the luckiest woman on the face of the earth so don’t you ever think I’m not happy. All I’m trying to say is that I’ve come to see you as two different people. You’re this high-powered defense attorney who kicks ass and takes names all day, and then you come home and are this gentle teddy bear with me. Most of the time I truly love how gentle and considerate you are, but I guess … well, there are just some times when I wish you’d come home as the kick ass attorney and let me see a bit more of that side of you too. After all, it’s the first side of you that I fell in love with.”
“So what are you saying, Brianna? I’m too nice and I need to treat you like shit? Because honestly, if you could see me at work, you wouldn’t want me to bring that home. I can be a ruthless bastard. Just ask Georgie.”
His voice is shaking with anger, and the mention of Georgie immediately throws a damper on the whole evening for Bri.
“I can’t believe you’re bringing up your ex-wife,” she says quietly.
“I have to Brianna. I had to learn my lesson the hard way. With Georgie, I brought my work home with me every day. I was the same controlling person at home and at the office and trust me, it doesn’t make for a loving relationship. I swore when I met you that I would never let that happen again. I couldn’t risk losing you by being a controlling bastard like I am in the courtroom. I’ve learned to separate the parts of my life in a way that helps me know I’ll never hurt you.”
After a few minutes of silence, Brianna decides she has to keep pushing. “What really happened with Georgie, Markus? You’ve never really told me why you got divorced.”
He takes a minute before finally answering, his mouth in a grim line and his eyes locked on the road ahead. “Let’s just say that losing her was the best thing that ever happened to me, not only because it gave me a chance to find you, but also because it taught me the price of being a totally arrogant asshole. I’d become so successful so fast that I let it all go to my head. I thought I was invincible, and I forced my will on anyone in my path, including Georgie. You would never have put up with me for one day like I was back then, Bri. Trust me. You want me to leave that Markus at the office.”
It feels like a small piece of the bigger puzzle that is Markus has just fallen into place for Brianna. When spending time with Markus’ family, they often hint at the 180-degree change in him since he met her, but they always refused to go into details. She’d always assumed they were just surprised he could be so in love. Now she understands it’s because marriage to her has changed him. For the first time, she begins to understand that his decision to create a whole new Markus - a more gentle and loving version of himself - was a conscience decision.
Instead of making her angry, it humbles Brianna that he could change so much just for her. But the irony of his sacrifice isn’t lost on her. As much as she hates to admit it, she still longs to see the side of Markus that Georgie could never accept.
e
The rest of the drive to the restaurant is a blur for Brianna. They both seem caught up in their own thoughts, only sharing some small talk along the way.
When they arrive at Hugo’s, Brianna is surprised that Markus hands over the keys to the valet to park his baby. Thankfully, he comes to her side to help her out of the car. In her three-inch fuck-me heels and tight little black dress, it’s all she can do to get out. Markus takes the opportunity to hold her close for a few seconds after helping Briana out of the low-slug car. The look in his eye is unsettling and Bri suspects he’s still thinking about their discussion on the way here.
Trying to lighten the mood, she stands on her tippy toes and pulls him down into a quick but satisfying kiss. “Let’s go enjoy our dinner, Mr. Lambert.” He quickly plasters a smile on his face and offers his arm to his wife.
Despite the crowd of waiting patrons hovering around the reception desk of the upscale restaurant, they are seated immediately. It’s clear to Brianna that Markus must be a regular because the maître d’ greets him on sight and whisks them away to a candlelit circular booth in the back of the restaurant. The location affords them privacy. The waiter, David, is there almost immediately and greets Markus by name. “Good evening, Mr. Lambert. It’s nice to have you back with us again, and in the evening this time.”
“Hello again, David. I decided I couldn’t keep Chef’s excellent food a secret from my wife any longer. She has the right to enjoy Hugo’s too.”
“Well, this is an honor,” the waiter says with a nod of his head. “Welcome, Mrs. Lambert. I’ll do my best to make sure your first visit with us is a good one.”
A wave of gratitude washes over Brianna, and she again admonishes herself internally for trying to make things more complicated than it needs to be in her storybook marriage. She tells herself she will learn to appreciate her husband instead letting her unreasonable sexual hang-ups destroy what they have. .
“Earth to Brianna.” Markus is squeezing her hand. “What would you like to drink, sweetheart?”
“Sorry,” she says. “I think I’ll have a Cosmo tonight, David.”
“Excellent choice, Mrs. Lambert. I’ll be back with your drinks and some breadsticks in a bit.”
The first half of dinner flies by without incident. The Cosmos are strong and by the third one, Bri is feeling tipsy. Wanting to heat Markus up before they head out to dancing, she slides closer to him in the booth. As she enjoys her dinner, she slyly slides her left hand up and down his lap hidden under the table. She hears his sharp intake of breath and giggles as she feels his growing hardness straining against his pants.
“I see you’re getting as anxious as I am for some dirty dancing tonight at the club,” she says. “You never mentioned where it is and who the friend is that owns it.”
It takes Markus a minute to respond as distracted as he is by her teasing strokes to his manhood. “It’s only about fifteen minutes away and it’s no one you know. He’s an old friend of mine from my fraternity in college. We went a stretch there without seeing much of each other, but our paths have crossed more this past year. I’m anxious for you to meet him tonight.”
“Oh, this is great. Other than your old roommate, James, I haven’t met many of your friends from your time at Northwestern. I’m excited to meet him.”
“Well, he’s been pressuring me to meet you too, so tonight’s the night.”
Brianna smiles as she hears his heavy breathing as he tries to carry on their conversation despite his wife’s teasing. Her strokes have become bold as they talk, but now Markus suddenly grabs her roaming hand and holds it tightly. It looks like he’s actually angry at her at first, but then he calmly places her wayward hand back in her own lap.
“Let’s save this for later tonight,
shall we?” he says. “There’s going to be plenty of time for that kind of thing at the club.”
“Fine. I can take a hint.” Brianna winks and reaches for her purse. “I’m afraid I can’t eat another bite. I’m going to run to the little girl’s room. Will you be a dear and order me a latte when David comes back?”
She leans close to give her husband a quick kiss before sliding out of the booth and heading to the restroom to freshen up. Just a few paces away from the table, she realizes she should have skipped the third Cosmo. She’s wobbly on her feet as she makes her way to the ladies room.
Brianna is gone less than ten minutes, but when she returns, she senses a change in atmosphere. Markus has become distracted and is uncharacteristically engrossed in sending and receiving text messages. Brianna frowns; he usually scolds her for the same behavior but when she asks him if anything is wrong he tells her he’s just tying up loose ends from the case and there’s nothing to worry about. She spends the latter part of the meal watching him type on his phone.
By the time they head out of the restaurant, Brianna’s previous good mood has soured. Between being ignored by Markus and a three-Cosmos headache looming, she considers asking if they can just ditch the club and go home. She wonders now if Markus’ behavior during the last part of dinner was meant to make a point by showing her what life would be like if he remained “Work Markus” even in his off hours. She has to admit that after being used to having a hundred percent of his attention; she wouldn’t like the change.
They make the drive to the club in an uneasy silence as Markus continues to check his phone at stoplights. She can’t help but notice the neighborhoods they are passing through are getting more and more questionable. She’d assumed they’d be heading to a club up near Rush and Division or perhaps in the upscale theatre district or near Navy Pier. Instead, they’re heading to the seedier west side of downtown.
Before she can question her husband, he turns the Porsche down a narrow, dark alley between two warehouse-like buildings. From the street, the mostly brick buildings almost look abandoned, but upon closer inspection, Brianna notices that all of the street level windows have been blacked out, making it impossible to see inside.
Up ahead, she makes out an awning over a single side door to the right. As they pull up in front of the shadowy, semi-lit steel door, she notices it’s not marked with any signage at all. Just a street number is visible with a few letters. TPP 7969. If it weren’t for the bulky bouncer standing guard at the door and the pounding music filtering out to the alley, Brianna would never suspect they were at a club.
The bouncer makes her nervous. He’s looking at her through the lightly tinted car window as if he’s going to devour her. Brianna tears her eyes away from him to look at her husband.
“Markus, this is a very strange place for a club. Are you really sure this is the right place?”
His eyes are watching her intently as he replies. “Oh yes, sweetheart. This is the right place.”
“Well, I’m not so sure about this. What kind of a club is this?”
“It’s a private club. They have a very exclusive kind of clientele.”
Brianna’s next question is barely audible. “And what kind of clientele is that?”
His smile is almost mischievous as he answers. “The naughty kind.”
‘Oh shit.’
Brianna sits in quiet trepidation as Markus exits the car to speak to the burly bouncer. She strains to catch some part of their conversation, but can’t make out what they’re saying over the pounding bass coming from inside the club. She's not sure if she’s relieved or not when Markus finally comes around to open her car door for her as the bouncer lowers himself into the driver’s seat of the Porsche. He immediately moves the seat back as far as it will go to try to make more room for his bulky body as he prepares to valet park the car.
Brianna sits glued to her seat, suddenly afraid to get out. When Markus reaches for her, she looks at him pleadingly, but refuses to take his hand. That’s when she feels the bouncer’s hand on her arm. He’s gripping her hard enough that she worries he’ll leave a bruise.
“I believe your husband is trying to help you out of the car, Mrs. Lambert. Why don’t you be a good girl and listen. Now.”
She flinches, and scrambles to exit the car as she wonders what she’s getting herself into.
Chapter Three
Brianna huddles close to her husband as he closes the car door and the Porsche speeds off down the alley. Only when the car turns out of sight does she realize that she’d left her purse with her phone in the car. She starts to tell Markus that she needs her purse but decides against it as he hustles her towards the door, where another menacing bouncer stands guard. He’s as tall as Markus and covered in tattoos. Everything about him looks dangerous.
As they reach the door, Markus reaches out to shake his hand. “Hey, Derek. Thanks for watching out for us.”
“No problem, Markus. Anything for you, man.” While he continues to pump Markus’ hand in greeting, he lets his eyes shift to Brianna and she’s shocked at how brazenly his eyes scan her body. When she visibly shudders under his gaze, he shoots her a knowing smile. Her shudder turns to a shiver.
Brianna grasps onto Markus’s arm, trying to turn him towards her. She leans towards his ear. “Markus, I don’t want to stay here. I know your friend invited us, but I’m not feeling well. Please... I want to go home now.”
“Don’t be silly, Brianna. We just got here. I can see you’re cold. Let’s get inside and we’ll get you warmed up. I really think you’re going to enjoy it here.” He shepherds her through the unmarked door. She can feel Derek’s eyes on her backside as they walk through a dimly lit hallway that opens to a round foyer that looks like it could be in a different building altogether. The floor is mosaic marble, the walls hung with heavy red velvet curtains similar to those used in old theatres. In the center of the room is a circular staircase leading to a second floor. A security keypad is next to double doors Brianna assumes lead into the main club, judging by the techno music pounding beyond them.
Markus is navigating the place like he’s been there before, holding Brianna’s hand firmly as they head up the stairs. She struggles to keep pace on the too-high stilettos he’d specifically asked her to wear. She can sense Derek behind them, although she’s afraid to look. At one point, she’s sure she feels him brush her ass as they walk.
When they reach the top of the stairs, Derek moves around them, blatantly brushing against Brianna’s body as he passes by. He takes the lead as they walk down a shadowy, curved hallway. They pass numbered doors and Derek stops when they reach the one labeled “3”. He produces a magnetic card and swipes it through the security pad next to the door. The lock can be heard releasing as he swings the door open and motions for Brianna to go ahead and enter ahead of him.
Brianna tentatively goes through the door and surveys in the details of the unique room. There are four oversized, comfortable looking chairs lined up in a semi-circle along the far wall, curiously facing away from the door. As she gets a few feet into the room she understands why. The far end of the room is open to the large first floor and as she approaches the back of the stuffed chairs, she sees they are standing in a private balcony box overlooking the club below. From this vantage point, she can see the large, fully stocked bar below with barstool seating for over a dozen people. There are well-dressed men milling about waiting for drinks. Her attention moves to the two-story red velvet theater curtains that are drawn across a very large, slightly curved stage that runs the entire length of the room.
Brianna moves between the chairs to stand near the railing. A Plexiglas panel beneath the railing allows for better viewing of the club seats below for those seated in private box chairs. From this vantage point, she can see much more of the first floor. She had expected to see theater style seating since they’re obviously in a theatre. Instead she sees multiple seating areas with comfortable oversized chairs and couches along wit
h tables of varying shapes and sizes artfully arranged for a casual feel. Only when leaning far over the railing can she make out several rows of true theater style seating located directly under the second floor private boxes.
While she doesn’t see a dance floor or dancers, the loud dance music continues to play. Brianna becomes increasingly uneasy when she evaluates the occupants of the room below. There are over a half dozen powerful looking men milling about, as if at a cocktail party. Beside them are women in varying degrees of undress, all kneeling next to the men. Her mind is reeling; Brianna’s gentle husband has brought her to a sex club.
Excitement overshadows her nagging fear as Brianna sees another couple arrive and walk up to the group below. After shaking hands with a few of the men, the well-dressed older blond man turns to the woman next to him and helps her to take off the long coat she’s wearing. Brianna’s breath catches when she sees the woman is completely naked under the coat except for a leather collar and wrist and ankle cuffs. Her eyes are riveted as the man takes what appears to be a leash out of his suit pocket and attaches it to the thick leather collar snuggly fastened around the woman’s neck. As soon as the leash is attached, Brianna watches the blonde woman fall gracefully to the floor into a kneeling position. Her legs are spread widely apart as she leans back and clasps her hands behind her neck, proudly displaying her naked body to anyone who glances her way. The man holding her leash - presumably her Master - continues to talk with the other men. He occasionally reaches his hand down to gently stroke the hair of the beautiful slave obediently kneeling next to him.
Brianna’s pussy is throbbing with sudden desire as she watches the scene play out in front of her. As she watched, cocktail waitresses in body-hugging corsets make their way through the crowd, taking drink orders and delivering appetizers and beverages to the Masters and Mistresses in attendance. Bri can’t help but notice that the corsets stop short of covering the server girls’ breasts, but rather serve as shelves to push their naked breasts up and out for all to admire. Even from this distance Bri can make out the heavy-duty nipple piercings that decorate the servers’ perky tits.
