“Amongst other things,” Caroline answered, tossing her purse onto her bed.
“Oh my god, I don’t want to know that!” Aldy put her hands over her ears. “Ew, ew, ew.”
“Why are you grossed out? He’s a great guy and sexy as hell.”
Aldy dropped her hands from her head to her hips. “He’s. My. Boss.” She enunciated each word carefully. “It’s like learning your parents have sex.”
“Your parents do have sex,” Caroline told her. “Remember that time when we walked in on them––”
“Enough!” Aldy threw up her hands, sighing.
“What? You’re the one who told me to indulge in a vacation romance.”
“Yeah, with some random stranger in the bar.”
Caroline cocked her head. “Would you listen to yourself? You’d rather I pick up some Joe off the street and fuck him than have a safe, casual weekend relationship with a man you know is decent and kind?”
“Yes!”
“Aldy!”
Her friend let out a puff of air. “Listen, I know he’s drop dead sexy, like Norman Reedus, or…”
“Tom Hiddleston.”
Aldy snapped her fingers. “Oh, even better! Yes. Like him. Wait, what was I saying? Tom distracted me.”
“I slept with your boss.”
“Right. I just don’t want to see you hurt anymore. Wren Calder has been in the Fortune 500, like, forever! He’s overseeing the office based in Paris.”
“What? You don’t think I’m woman enough to handle a Fortune 500 man?”
“No, I don’t think you’re woman enough to handle him. He’s a worldly type of man, Caro. He’s used to women who are a bit … exotic.”
Caroline raised an eyebrow. “Really? Like how?”
“Ew, do you really want me to go there?”
Caroline nodded.
“I heard he has varied tastes. Models, actresses, princesses … even a certain tattooed gothic hottie who has her own TV show. He’s a player, Caro. He’s not for you.”
For a moment Caroline let the warning rattle her, allowing her insecurities to run amok. Aldy stood there, watching her, and the pity she saw in her friend’s eyes helped to push it all away. There would be time for self-reflection later.
“You think I should get some tattoos?”
“Caroline!”
“Aldy! I’m joking,” Caroline chided. “I’ve been having a wonderful time with Wren, and the sex hasn’t been pervy at all!” Caroline ignored the little twinge of consciousness that statement produced.
Aldy’s lips twisted into an unpleasant frown. “You’ve been hurt enough, Caro.”
“And that’s why I love you. Always watching my back.”
“That’s what best friends do. It’s in the handbook, you know.”
Caroline smiled. “So, I’m meeting up with Wren around nine this evening.”
Aldy sighed. “Did my talk go in one ear and out the other?”
Caroline hugged her. “No, but I know that this is just a weekend affair. I’ve got my eyes open.” She pulled back to smile at her friend. “You wanna do dinner together?”
“Pizza?” Aldy asked. “We can take the subway down to Little Italy and chow down on some delizioso Italian cuisine.”
Caroline laughed as she went to the closet. “Let me take a shower first and then we can head out.”
“You’ve got fifteen minutes. I’m starving.”
Caroline only shook her head as she closed the bathroom door behind her.
****
“You’ve been staring at me like I’m a bug under a microscope,” Wren said warily as he downed the last of his B & B liqueur.
Caroline had her chin resting in her palm as she studied him through the candlelight. They had come to the Big Band Dance Hall for drinks, and it had presented the perfect opportunity to study him.
“I’ve heard a rumor about you.”
He raised an eyebrow. “From your friend Aldrin Crenshaw?”
“Leave Aldy out of this,” she said. “She’s very protective.”
Wren inclined his head. “All right. Which rumor would you like to address, Caroline?”
“Which rumor?”
He shrugged. “I may have appeared in several tabloids over the years.”
She blinked, then chuckled. “Touché.”
“So, which rumor? I can assure you, I’ve not fathered any children and I’m not secretly in the closet.”
Caroline thought about the redhead for a brief moment. “Fair enough. Then let me ask you this, why are you with me?”
“I don’t think I understand the question,” he admitted, looking perplexed.
“I’ve heard about the type of women you usually go out with, and I’m just wondering how I fit into the mix.”
“Did you ever think that it’s because you’re unbelievably beautiful? Or sexy as hell?”
Caroline pursed her lips as she thought for a moment. “No,” she answered truthfully. “Those are two adjectives I wouldn’t think to use in describing me.”
“I thought you were quite elegant when I saw you sitting in the bar the other night,” he admitted. “I pictured you wrapped in silk, red lips, a cigarette on the end of a long holder. The outward shell displaying an icy, yet beautiful, temptress underneath. And I was right. Whether you admit it or not, you were made for sex.”
Caroline cleared her throat at the mental picture he gave her and tried to find enough saliva to lick her suddenly dry lips. She strove to regroup her thoughts and steer the conversation back on solid ground.
“So, if you’re from New York, why bother sightseeing something you grew up with? You probably missed something very important today at the conference.”
“I’m sure by now Ms. Crenshaw has told you that I’m CEO, and one perk of being boss is having your admin assistant sit in for you once in a while,” he said with a crooked smile. “Besides, I’ve got limited days with you.”
Yes, very limited. The reminder suddenly made Aldy’s fears seem inconsequential.
“Then what’s on the agenda tonight, Mr. Calder?”
He studied her face, his eyes tracing over every curve. She waited, and figured he had something big ready by the way his eyes darkened with desire. Her stomach quivered a little with anticipation.
“Have you ever been to a sex show?”
Caroline cocked her head, not sure if she heard him correctly. “Excuse me?”
“A sex show,” he repeated.
“What does that mean? What’s a sex show?”
“The higher priced version of a backroom peep show.”
She sat back for a moment, studying his face, trying to determine if he was serious or not. “Why would you ask me that?”
“Do you trust me, Caroline?”
This wasn’t the first time he had asked that question. The first, however, had been superficial, just a way to experience a bit of fun from a weekend fling. Now it seemed different, deeper. His statement about different rumors suddenly made a lot of sense.
“There is a club called Perversions,” he continued, as if she hadn’t hesitated. “It caters to eclectic tastes, of erotica.”
“Do you go there often?”
“I own a membership.”
“A membership?”
“It’s not the type of club that is available to everyone … only to a certain type of clientele,” he said in a dry tone.
“I take it a rich clientele.”
He nodded. “That is one requirement.”
Caroline sat up straight, her mind racing. “What exactly do they have at Perversions?”
“Doesn’t the name say it all?” he asked with a smirk.
“It could be a misnomer,” she reasoned. “Like the funny bone. Or Greenland.”
He laughed. “I’m amazed at how you managed to mention Greenland in a discussion about sex,” he said, shaking his head.
“The question that comes to mind is, how do you find a club called Perversions?”
/> He shrugged. “I’ve never been embarrassed about what turns me on.”
“So you pay to have sex.”
He held up a finger. “That’s not what I said. I don’t have sex at Perversions. But I do like to watch. Occasionally. And some clients of Troublemakers have, shall we say, sundry tastes.”
“Oh.” She scrunched up her nose and shuddered. “For some reason, that gave me a mental picture of Aldy that I really did not need in my brain.”
Wren grabbed her hand and rubbed the palm with the pad of his thumb. “Want to explore something different?”
Caroline studied his slate grey eyes, seeing the challenge he presented to her. He’d asked if she trusted him, but what he really meant was if she was strong enough to accept a different side of herself. He’d already blindfolded her and had sex in public with her, but did she really want to face what really turned her on? Life with Greg had been simplistic and sex had followed the logistics of that life. Now, finally free of that marriage, did she have enough courage to confront all of her fantasies?
“Yes,” she said, so softly that he leaned closer to hear what she said.
Chapter Eight
The taxi dropped them in front of a tall skyscraper, a building of glass and steel that must sparkle in the sunlight. Caroline cranked her head back to look all the way up.
“Perversions is here?” she asked doubtfully.
“What were you expecting?”
“Someplace really seedy, like in a subbasement where the only way to get to it was to tell someone the password and then descend down into an elevator that had a red strobe light.”
“You have a vivid imagination,” Wren replied. “I hope reality isn’t boring for you.”
He placed a hand in the small of her back and escorted her to the doors. To get in, Wren slid a plastic key card through the security lock. Once inside, they were greeted by a security guard.
“Good evening, Mr. Calder,” he greeted.
“Hello, Charles.”
The security guard nodded at them and held open for them the inner doors. Wren nodded his thanks. They entered an elegant reception area that could belong in any type of business and Wren led her to a bank of elevators.
“Does Charles know why we’re here?” she asked, feeling slightly horrified that someone knew their destination.
“I don’t know,” Wren admitted. “I don’t know if Charles knows each business in this building. Does it matter?”
“Well, I guess it shouldn’t,” she said. “But there can’t be too many reasons why people would come here at night. Feels slightly taboo.”
“There you go, then. Seedy disguised in elegance.”
She grinned.
They traveled up to the top floor, and once again Wren used his card to allow them access. When the elevator opened, they faced a normal-looking hallway, where a large mirror showed their reflection and a table sat underneath it with a beautiful bouquet of red roses opened in bloom. The sweet fragrance lined the corridor and followed them as Wren escorted her to the only door.
He knocked and it was opened by a tall, beautiful black man, dressed impeccably in tails and white gloves. The foyer they entered boasted a white marble floor and a circular glass table that displayed more roses, their deep red a splash of color to the rather arid feel of the decor. White paneling lined the walls and curved around where the den offered lush leather couches and chairs of stark white leather. A staircase led to an enclosed second floor where a door barricaded any hint of what lay upstairs. There were no other people around.
“Good evening, Mister Calder,” the man said in a deep baritone voice. “Are you here for participation or pleasure?”
“Pleasure, James, thank you,” Wren answered.
“Very good, sir. Right this way.”
“What does participation or pleasure mean?” Caroline whispered.
“You can be the object of desire rather than the voyeur, if you wish. Do you wish?”
“No,” she replied quickly. “I’m not into someone watching me.”
“Are you into watching someone else?”
“Porn?”
“That’s such a derogatory word.”
“Yet somehow accurate. Am I right?”
“You’ll see.”
James led them past the den, down a hallway to a small room as austere as the foyer. Caroline eyed the room, which held a chaise lounge and leather recliner, a table that offered various forms of hors d'oeuvres, and several decanters of alcohol. Cut crystal glasses, lined next to delicate China plates. The utensils were silver polished to a bright shine. No expense had been spared, so it seemed.
A large window faced opposite the door, but curtains blocked the view out. As James shut the door behind them, the lights instantly dimmed.
“Have a seat, make yourself comfortable,” Wren said, gesturing. He walked over and poured himself a brandy before settling in the leather recliner.
“I don’t understand,” she said as she sat on the chaise. “Is this Perversions?”
“There are many different levels of Perversions actually,” he replied, offering her a drink. “It’s made for you to feel comfortable.”
She absently took the drink, looking at the amber alcohol. “Comfortable, huh?” Her heart hammered almost out of control, making her slightly light-headed. “The window?”
“We will be able to see them, but they won’t be able to see us.”
“And what will we be watching? Someone being whipped?”
“Maybe,” Wren answered. “One never knows what’s behind the curtain until we open it up.”
Caroline diverted her shocked gaze to the window. “So right now, something is happening on the other side of the glass?”
“Open it and find out.”
She licked her lips and then rose, replacing the tumbler of liquor back on the table. As the reality of Perversions started to sink in, her fingers trembled a little as she reached for the pull and slowly slid the curtain aside.
She wasn’t quite sure what she expected. An orgy maybe, perhaps several people tied down, being spanked or flogged, wearing enough leather to populate a herd of cows. Instead, she saw a man and a woman, kissing, fondling each other, both naked and moving to music Caroline herself could not hear.
“If you turn up the volume you’ll be able to hear them,” Wren said.
Caroline looked at the wall and saw a small button. She turned it and instantly, the soft strains of music piped in. A beautiful, lyrical song serenaded the dancers. They moved as one, flowing together, using the melody to guide them. It was a type of graceful ballet, only their feet did not move. Instead, their arms and hands became the platform of beauty, twirling around each other like a snake charmed by a flute. The man picked up the tiny woman and settled her onto his thick cock, and again, their rhythm matched the piece of music. Up and down he moved her, like she was floating on water. After a few minutes he changed her position, and she rode him reverse cowboy, the entire time her hands dancing through the air.
Her position shifted every few minutes, but her partner would execute the move gracefully, until Caroline decided that what she watched wasn’t a live sex show but really a beautiful interpretation of art. Her breath caught in her throat each time the man would move his lover into another stance, the harmonious fitting of the pair beyond exquisite.
Caroline grew hot, a fine sheen of sweat covering her forehead. Her nipples hardened into little pebbles. She felt liquid heat pooling between her thighs. She waited with anticipation for the dancing couple to climax, silently urging them onward to that pinnacle of absolute pleasure.
She could see the man start to fall apart, but only by subtle hints. The tightening of his lips, the grip he had on his lover’s hips starting to whiten, and his cock swelling with each thrust. And just as Caroline was positive he was about to come, the light went out and the music stopped.
Caroline blinked. “Hey! Come back!” She looked at Wren, who watched her with narrowed
eyes. “Bring them back.”
“I can’t do that. The show is timed,” Wren explained quietly.
Caroline turned back to the dark window, her hands clenched by her sides, tension heavy through her shoulders. “That’s not fair,” she muttered.
Wren stood and placed his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them. “It’s not supposed to be fair. We picked pleasure, not participation.”
“That was the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” she said, letting her head fall forward as he rubbed.
“Do you still call it porn?”
She shook her head.
“You’re the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispered in her ear, his breath tickling, causing her stomach to tighten in wicked response. She bent over slightly, bringing her rear into direct contact with the hard bulge between his legs. She wiggled her hips, working his cock deeper between her ass cheeks.
“I want you,” she moaned.
In response, Wren lifted her under her arms and picked her up, sitting her ass on the table. He spread her knees wide, her dress hiking up high on her thighs. Caroline’s eyes widened as he pulled aside her thong to expose her. Kneeling down, he blew across her slit and the cool air hit her heat like a hammer hitting a nail. She moaned again and fell back as Wren lowered his face and made a feast of her.
As his middle finger pushed in, his lips trapped her clit. He bit gently, tugging a little, and then sucking so hard she almost leapt off the table. He alternated with licking, using his tongue to settle her for a moment before sucking her clit once more into his warm mouth.
Over and over he repeated the process, each time bringing her to the edge of orgasm and then backing off. Teasing her. Tormenting her until she begged for release. Then suddenly he was gone, leaving her bereft and aching. She pushed up on her elbows to look at him, her eyes unfocused and her lower lip red from her teeth biting it.
“What do you want, Caroline?” He asked her, and her only consolation was the fact that his voice had gone husky from his own arousal. She could smell the musky bite of their sex in the air.
“I want you,” she replied, almost pleading. “Isn’t that why you chose pleasure? For me to experience––”
A Man After Midnight Page 5
