by Measha Stone
Top Floor. The permit was for a three floor night club, each floor held its own building permits and business plan though. Alex's name was on each document, but the only level that had an actual name at the time the permits were purchased was Top Floor. The description given only stated that the club catered to alternative lifestyles. "That tells me nothing," she mumbled and jammed the file back into the drawer.
But it did give her a name, and a few seconds later, with the help of Google, she was staring at the club's website. It had opened several months ago. Alex owned the club. She wiped her eyes and read the screen again. Nothing changed. Alex was the owner of a sex club. A BDSM dungeon and night club. She sat back in the chair taking slow breaths.
Alyssa worked at the club with Alex. Kendrick had been listed on the business application as the security contact. Which meant Kendrick knew about the club. Did Kelly and Jessica know, too? Was she the only one that sat in the dark about this? She'd heard the term BDSM before, hell who hadn't by now, but she never really knew what it meant.
Another google search had her sitting wide-eyed at the computer screen, scrolling through websites, videos and blogs. She kept waiting to find the thing that repulsed her, the one thing that would turn her off instead of turning her on. Her panties dampened as she continued to scroll through photographs of women tied, and gagged, and with red stripes across their otherwise white flesh. She paused at a still photo of a woman wearing an apron, and only an apron, tied down to the dining room table. A wonderfully dressed man stood in front of her with his cock out, stroking it over her open mouth. Streams of white come painted her face over her open smiling lips.
Her hand slid easily down her pants, finding her wet, swollen clit. She continued to stare at the picture as she moved her fingers over her aroused body. So many times, she'd imagined being fucked in such a way, and always had thought herself crazy, weird. After the face slapping incident, she never spoke of such things to Jonathan. Now, seeing the come dripping down the woman's cheek, she pressed harder, rubbed faster, and let out a satisfying scream as her orgasm shot through her body, leaving her with a racing heartbeat and shaky breath.
As a distraction, it would do.
CHAPTER THREE
Bradley stared at an accounting ledger that for all intent and purposes could have been written in Arabic. Numbers flew all over the page, some in brackets others in bold. The only part of the report he did understand was the headers listing the four owners, including himself, that owned Bar Corp.
Buying into Bar Corp hadn't been a frivolous purchase, or one that he didn't take into serious consideration before buying. Alex Tribelli, a personal friend of his, had come to him during a party hosted at a mutual acquaintance's home with the suggestion. He'd already had the real estate picked out and had a business plan already drawn up, the only thing he needed was investors. Bradley, could have handed over his 250k and left it at that, but the idea of owning a piece of something like the club gave him a purpose.
His parents had left him enough money to ride out the rest of his life if he wanted, but he didn't watch his father make his money and learn nothing. Hard work moved you forward. Standing still got you nowhere. Besides, the money in the bank was just money, and it wasn't his. He wanted his own, his own legacy, his own pride. He had no claim to the riches his parents left him after the horrible car accident that took them away far too soon. That was their legacy, their money.
It hadn't taken him much time to see the worth of Alex's venture. Having a club with three levels, each catering to a different sort of clientele wasn't unheard of, but there was none like it in the proximity of the location Alex picked. Top Floor held the most security, and secrecy. It wasn't opened to the general public. At first, membership was by invitation only. Recently, they had started taking applications for memberships. Each applicant was screened thoroughly. Anyone with a violent crime conviction was denied. Anyone caught using drugs while in the club, booted out and membership suspended. Anyone putting another member in danger by not following the safety rules, banned. They weren't fucking around.
Almost every invitation sent out resulted in an application, and after the membership was opened to the public, applications poured in. Alex's advertising background boosted the members list, as well as made the opening night for all floors booming. They were bursting at the seams within a few weeks. Now that they'd been open for over six months, and they were already turning a profit, Bradley started to oversee the ledgers more closely. Fingers became sticky when there was excess candy about.
And sticky fingers he found. The cost of personal business expenses for two of the owners made no sense. He and Alex ran the day to day operations—he mostly, since Alex was still working his fulltime gig at the advertising firm. Yet, Travis and John, who contributed nothing to day to day operations, were tallying up the bulk of the expenses: private parties, free food and drinks, utilization of working staff.
He ran a hand over the smooth skin of his head and leaned back in his chair. He may not have aced his math classes in college, having been more concerned with what he could accomplish in the gym, but he knew a negative number when he saw it. And he could see a thief from miles away. If John and Travis weren't stopped, they would soon suck the company dry.
Bradley marched across the narrow hallway to Alex's office, ignoring Claudia's pleading glance. He'd have to talk with her later. He loved playtime, but he wasn't into anything serious. His idea about relationships was that they didn't last long. It was better to keep them in the playroom. What he wanted, didn't work twenty-four/seven.
*
A short hour later, staring across his desk at him sat the petite brown-haired, dark-eyed woman he'd found at the elevator searching for Alex. During his short meeting with his partner, she had shown up at the front desk demanding to see him, but refusing to give her name. Thinking she was an ex or other bothersome woman who just wouldn't take the hint Alex wasn't interested, he offered to deal with her. Alex, being somewhat preoccupied with his girlfriend, Alyssa, had been more than happy to let him deal with whatever issue was banging down their front door.
*
He had waited outside the elevator that was the main entrance to the club. The password protected key pad kept wandering customers from gaining access. When the doors slid open, he expected to find a hellcat of a woman, all dolled up with makeup and skin fitted clothes on. The woman in front of him could have doubled for his high school English teacher, Mrs. Stentson, right up to the tightly wound bun on the top of her head.
"Where's Alex?" She narrowed her eyes at him, looking him up and down. It had to be at least ninety degrees outside, yet she clung to the thin sweater around her shoulders as though it were going to fly free from her body at any moment. Even with the sweater, and the loosely fitted knee length skirt, he could see the roundness of her hips, and the swell of her breasts. "Excuse me, can I please speak to Alex." Her voice wavered a bit the second time she spoke.
He met her gaze for a moment. She wasn't an ex or a crazed crush. She was in need of help. The panicked look in her eyes made him uneasy about letting her stand in the lounge. The evening was beginning to pick up speed with members showing up. The ding of the elevator behind her made her jump as it slid open, letting out three more people. He glanced over at them, glad they had been completely street legal in their clothing. He didn't think this woman would be able to handle seeing some of the other members in their full fetish gear. As much as he loved a good leather corset, and a leash—to a vanilla it would be startling. And this woman was vanilla.
"He's busy in a meeting. He asked that I see to whatever your needs are. My name is Bradley Sorenson." He put his hand out to her. She stared at him for a moment and shook her head.
"Can you just tell him that Erin is here? He'll come out." She ignored his hand and gripped her sweater tighter. Did she think he would rip it from her body?
Bradley had heard her name mentioned before. One of Alex's closer friends. Alex mos
t definitely would run out to get her out of the club if he knew she were there. But Bradley wasn't going to hand her over to Alex. He had no intention of handing her over to anyone just yet.
"I'm sorry, but it's a really important meeting. How about you come into my office and wait." He didn't wait for her to respond before cupping her elbow and leading her through the lounge area and straight back to his office. She didn't protest when he touched her, in fact if it wasn't his imagination screwing with him, she relaxed under his direction.
Once they were tucked away in his office and the door was closed, which made her jump, he led her to the chair opposite his desk. "Can I get you something to drink?" He offered her a bottle of water, which she declined.
And so they sat. Staring at each other. To be more accurate he stared at her, while she nibbled on a fingernail and stared at his chest. "Do you think he'll be long?" she finally asked, folding her hands into her skirt.
"Could be. Why don't you tell me what's going on? Maybe I can help." He leaned forward, leaning his elbows on the desk.
She huffed a little laugh and rolled her eyes. "Doubtful."
"Erin, I'm sure whatever the trouble, I can help." Even as he the words came out of his mouth he doubted them. There could be any number of issues going on with her. She could be pregnant. How would he fix that?
Her soft brown eyes wandered over him for several long moments. Never had he been appraised so boldly. Finally, she gave a curt nod and took a deep breath. "I suppose it might be better talking to you than Alex. He might freak out on me."
Bradley had known Alex for the better part of two years, and never in that time did he witness any behavior that qualified as freaking out. If he remembered correctly, Erin was the tightly wound one of the bunch. Alex joked she'd crack in half someday, so the odds were pretty good her trouble would be something easy and uncomplicated.
"My fiancé dumped me," she blurted out. Bradley tried to keep the smile planted on his face and not show any signs of surprise or pity. The last thing she needed was his pity. "He left me for some barista." She took a rattling breath, but she kept her composure. "When I was looking through his things, I came across some paperwork regarding this place." She waved her hands in the air. "It had Alex's name on it so I looked it up. See, he didn't mention this to me or to any of us. Not just me, but any of us." His eyes narrowed at the clarification of her pronoun usage.
"Why did your fiancé have paperwork about the club?" Bradley flattened his hands on the desk.
"He works at Wells Fargo, where your business loan is held. I guess he did some of the leg work on the financing. I'm not really sure what he did." She crossed and re-crossed her ankles.
"Okay," he prompted her to continue, as the amount of fidgeting she was doing told him she wasn't quite through with her explanation. "Have you told Alex about your fiancé?"
"No. And now that I'm talking to you, I can avoid that for a little longer." She took a deep breath. Relief flashed across her features.
"I don't think I understand."
"When I found out about this club, this floor particularly, I did some digging. You know, to educate myself on the topic." She gave another curt nod, which made him nod in agreement because it seemed to be the thing she wanted him to do. "And when I did that, well—" A flush crept up her neck and covered her entire face so swiftly he wondered if she had even realized it happened. "Well, let's just say it opened my eyes to a few things I've been missing out on. Some things that maybe I'd like to try."
He stared at her, waiting for her to continue, but she appeared to be finished. She sat back in the chair and began to tap her toe on the ground. Maybe getting Alex would have been the right thing to do. Maybe it would have been the easier thing to do.
It would be best if he stood up right then, and retrieved Alex from his office. "What sort of things?" Instead, he dug himself in deeper.
Her eyes widened at the question. "Well, I…"
"Spanking?" He asked, finding the intensity of her blush delicious. "Ropes?" He stood from his desk and walked over to the bookcase where he kept the majority of his educational material. Eventually the club would offer educational workshops, but for the time being he kept a few books on hand to give to new curious members.
Scanning through the books, he found one in particular he wanted and plucked it from the shelf. She remained quiet, watching him as he moved around the office. Compared to her petite frame, he probably looked monstrous.
"Well, I…"
"You said that already," he pointed out as he stood in front of her, leaning against his desk. She uncrossed her legs and pushed back a little to make room for him. "Are you looking for a way to get over your ex?" He casually tapped the book against his thigh.
"What? No. Obviously I'm not looking for a relationship. I just want to explore. I'm allowed to do that," she said with more gumption than her eyes conveyed. The way she wrung her hands in her lap gave him the impression of a woman doing everything in her power to remain in control. This conversation wasn't easy for her. If given the chance, he wondered if she would bolt from the room. Yet she continued engaging with him. "I know there's a membership application and all of that, I was hoping Alex would get me started."
"You want a membership?" The book banged on the desk when he dropped it.
"Yes, that's why I'm here." A forced smile met his gaze. "You didn't think I would proposition Alex did you? He's a friend. And he's involved."
Bradley fought the urge to rub his eyes. She was taking him in circles. "So after your fiancé walked out, you went digging through his things, somehow managed to find our club on the web, and now you'd like a membership?" He summed up the conversation so far, more for his own benefit than hers. After a small nod he pressed on. "What turned you on? What did you see that made your panties soaking wet?" He saw her startle a bit at his crudeness, but he didn't do sweet talk, and he had a feeling she didn't need it.
Her gaze dropped to her hands for a moment before she looked back up at him with more determination than before. "I saw a lot of things. Women tied up. Women being spanked. One woman had a ball gag in her mouth, tied to what looked like a cross of some sort, and clothespins strategically placed on her torso and breasts." She stood from her chair, hands fisted at her sides. "I read story after story about women submitting to their partners in the bedroom." Her gaze wandered to his chest when she made her final confession. "And out of the bedroom, too."
If his cock hadn't already been alerted to the beauty before him, her fresh blush finished the job. The shy resolved expression she'd sported when they first entered his office fled with her description of what she'd found online. He had no doubt that she'd seen plenty. The image of her sitting at a desk watching the sort of acts she described, one hand on her naked breast, and the other sliding down her body, into her panties… He shook his head to ward off the visual. His pants were painful enough as it was. "And what did you do when you saw these images?" He forced a flat tone, but the way his heart had begun to pick up speed, he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep it together for much longer.
Her lashes fluttered against her perfectly tanned skin before she looked away. "I… Are you able to help me with a membership? I know you have a screening process, so I'm sure it will take a few days and since it's already Thursday…"
His hands on her shoulders stilled her. Her large brown eyes peered up at him with some surprise. Hell, he was surprised too. That he'd managed to go that long without touching her. "I'll email you the membership application. You will send it back to me, personally." He released her, but brought his hand up to her face, running the back of his knuckles along her jaw. "I have more questions for you, though, before I do that."
CHAPTER FOUR
Erin stared up at the large man standing only a breath away from her. Piercing blue eyes stared down at her with an intensity that seeped into her body. Her heart hadn't stopped pounding in her chest since she the moment she'd met him at the elevator. The electrifying touch
of his hand on her cheek stilled her breath. His gaze seemed to demand her full attention, even if she wanted to look away she doubted she could get her body to listen. It seemed to want to listen only to him at the moment.
This man looked more like a MMA fighter than a business man. The white button down shirt fit his muscular frame, highlighting the massiveness of his chest. She could make out dark lines underneath the fabric running down his left arm. A tattoo? Attempting to keep her focus on his words and not let the thoughts of his having his hands on her, touching her, stroking her get in the way. She couldn't remember the last time she'd craved a touch as much as she did at that moment.
"What sort of questions?" Finally, her vocal cords cooperated.
"Well." He looked down at her mouth, and she instinctively wet her lips. "First of all, are you sure you're ready to do something like this so soon after your break up?" He didn't back away, but his hands weren't on her anymore. She could smell the musk of his aftershave. Not at all overpowering, and she wanted to take a deep breath to take more of it in.
"Yes. I'm sure." She wasn't at all sure. What if Jonathan changed his mind and came back? Did she want that? After two weeks of no word from him, and her dwindling desire to even hear his name, would she be willing to think about reconciliation? Of course not, she couldn't take him back after all of the horrible things she'd seen in those emails. As much as those words hurt her, they actually helped. Each insult she read put another brick in place of the wall she needed to create to keep Jonathan out of her mind. Deep down she had known they were having trouble. Things weren't the same, and he was delaying wedding decisions with even more lame excuses than before. When she sat down and let herself be completely honest, she'd realized they hadn't had much in common over the past year. He worked almost obsessively, and although she never resented him for his time away from her, she'd drifted a bit, too. As devoted as she was to him, she could feel the distance, no matter how hard she tried to breach it.
