by JD Nixon
His eyebrows lowered in a look of deep irritation. “It’s just for one night, but it will be an all-nighter, possibly going well into the next day.”
“What do we have to do?” I asked, risking his displeasure again.
“Check tickets, keep out any gatecrashers, then you’re on patrol for the rest of the time, keeping the peace, making sure everyone has a good time.”
I dared to ask another question as I could see Farrell wasn’t going to open his mouth. “What happens at a swingers’ party?”
Heller shot me a glance of amused disbelief. “People have sex, Matilda. What do you think?”
“I know that!” I spluttered in exasperation. “But how will they have it?”
“I’ll show you later tonight.”
I wasn’t in the mood for flirting. “That’s not what I meant. Will it happen in private rooms? Out in the open? Together in a big orgy? I don’t know, Heller.”
“Are you implying that I do?” He raised an eyebrow. He probably did, I thought, knowing him. “There will probably be group sex in the open. I’m not sure. You’ll have to ask the host when you arrive.”
I screwed up my nose, disgusted. “I don’t want to watch people having sex! That’s just plain gross. Do I have to do this job?” I complained.
“Yes, you heard me. They want a female officer there. For the female guests.”
“Heller! I don’t want to do it.”
“You’ll do what I tell you to do.” He said it in that dangerously quiet voice that let me know he meant business. His eyes were seriously unsympathetic.
“Isn’t it all going to be really debauched? What if things get out of hand? I don’t want to grapple with any more naked men,” I said sullenly. I’d had a disturbingly up-close encounter with a wet, nude man some months ago.
His lips twitched. “Nobody’s expecting any trouble. It’s members only, remember. Everybody wants to be there and only members are allowed in. That’s part of your duties – to make sure only members are admitted to the house.”
I wasn’t happy. As if I wanted to do a job like this. And especially with such a fun guy as Farrell. He probably wouldn’t even speak to me once the whole time. It would be purgatory. I frowned at Heller, not sure if I was being punished for not liking his perfect girlfriend.
He softened a little seeing my disgruntled features. “I promise it will be okay, Matilda. The job will be over before you know it. It’s only one night. And Farrell will make sure you’re safe.”
What followed was a whole silent conversation between the two men. Farrell nodded once and that seemed to finish the discussion to Heller’s satisfaction.
“Good. All settled then.” He pushed a piece of paper across the desk to Farrell, not me, with the details for the job. That pissed me off too. In fact, everything about this assignment pissed me off.
“Are we done?” I demanded angrily, standing up. They both stared at me, startled by my sudden move.
“Farrell will pick you up at about 4 PM on Friday. Make sure you don’t keep him waiting,” Heller dismissed us. I could have rammed his pen into his forehead I was that mad at him.
“I’ll give you a ring before I come to get you,” said Farrell, and I looked over at him. His returning glance was full of sympathetic understanding. That sudden show of kindness from him surprised me. “Can I have your mobile number?”
We left Heller’s office and stood by my desk. I recited my number for him and entered his into my mobile as well.
“Are you really worried about this job?” he asked, regarding me intently. We were the same height so I looked straight into his amazing eyes.
“Yes. It’s unpleasant. God only knows what we’re going to witness.”
“It is unpleasant, but you’ll be all right. I’ll be there with you and we’ll get through it together. As a team. Okay?” Another intent look.
“Okay.” And meeting his honest eyes again, I found myself trusting him completely. Maybe it was his background in the army, but he seemed the sort of man you could rely on in a crisis, even if he was as much fun as a toothache.
He nodded, turned around and left the office, not bothering to waste his breath in saying goodbye. I watched after him for a while, deep in thought, until Heller came out of his office and demanded to know what on earth was I staring at? I hurried back to my desk and began industriously tapping on my keyboard.
I spent the rest of the week accompanying Heller on his client rounds. During these he met with his top clients to ensure that his men continued to provide a first-class service. It was one of the personal touches that he offered that differentiated his business from the other big security firms in the city. It allowed him immediately to jump on any emerging problems or issues so that his clients’ business matters were not interrupted. Needless to say, his clients were usually very satisfied with the service they received from Heller’s and we benefitted from a lot of word-of-mouth recommendations.
I normally loved escorting Heller on his visits. I loved spending time with him and enjoyed meeting his clients, trying my best to charm their socks off. But this time, day after day, in transit between meetings, I had to suffer through what seemed to me to be an unending monologue on that absolute paragon of womanliness, Vanessa.
I sank into a bored, jealous, sullen silence and spent my time staring out the window, trying to ignore the continuous flow of his attractively accented voice. He didn’t even notice, but kept up the stream of marvelled comment on every aspect of their relationship, his discourse interspersed with phone calls from the perfect bitch herself. And while I’m sure I should be flattered that he felt close enough to me to share such intimate details, I didn’t want to be his confidante and I sure as hell didn’t want to hear about their sexual feats together. But I couldn’t block my ears while he lauded how much he liked the way she kept her incredibly wild and inventive sexual side just for him while presenting that coolly elegant face to the world.
I felt miserably simplistic by comparison. I didn’t have any alluring secret sides – what you saw with me was what you got. Tilly Chalmers, an open book.
Although I was dreading it, Friday couldn’t roll around quickly enough for me. Anything had to be better than the torment of hearing about Vanessa every day. I was at breaking point, on the brink of screaming at him to just shut the hell up, when he drove us back to the Warehouse at lunchtime on Friday after our last visit. I hurried away from him, ran up the stairs to my flat and closed the door, leaning against it and breathing a sigh of relief. There was a soft knock on the door straight away and I groaned and briefly thought of hiding under my bed to get away from him.
I opened the door with a bit of attitude, but it wasn’t Heller standing there, only Niq. I was so thankful that I pulled him inside and shut the door quickly before Heller came along. There was room under my bed for both Niq and me if necessary. In his normal fourteen-year-old manner, Niq didn’t even blink once at my strange behaviour, just accepting it in his stride. And I suppose that when you’re a kid, a lot of what adults do can seem inexplicable.
I made him lunch and we chatted for a while before I shooed him away. I wanted to have a catnap before Farrell picked me up because I’d probably be awake all night. I drew down my blind, jumped into bed, slipped on my eyemask and fell asleep for a couple of hours. I loved having an afternoon nap. There was little in life that was more indulgent, because it meant that you had no pressing responsibilities, no work to do, with sufficient leisure time to waste daylight hours asleep.
When I woke up it was three o’clock. Enough time to have a shower and make myself a substantial snack, knowing I wouldn’t get any dinner that night. While I pulled on a fresh Heller’s polo shirt, my phone rang. It was Farrell letting me know that he was on his way and sure enough ten minutes later there was his familiar knock on my door. Normally it created a horrible feeling of dread and impending doom inside me when I heard it, but this time I knew I wasn’t going to be frogmarched down to the gym
to be tortured, so I opened the door to him without hesitation.
He was early. He looked around curiously, but made no comment on my living quarters. I offered him a sandwich and a diet soft drink and to my surprise he accepted, admitting that he’d forgotten to grab anything to eat. I made him a quick lunch that he wolfed down. Watching how quickly the sandwich was disappearing, I made him another one and he ate that appreciatively as well, neatly washing up his plate and glass afterwards.
“Thank you, Chalmers,” he said.
“Tilly,” I insisted impatiently again.
He acted as if he hadn’t heard me. “Ready to go?”
“Sure.”
We clattered down to the basement and checked out one of the fleet vehicles, a black Nissan 4WD. I breathed a sigh of relief that I’d managed to escape without seeing Heller again. I’d had enough of him for one day. But as we drove off, my phone rang.
“What do you want, Heller?”
“You left without saying goodbye to me.”
“Sorry. We were running late,” I lied. “We only had time to gobble some food before we had to leave.”
“Put Farrell on.”
I handed the phone to Farrell. His conversation with Heller was brief, his contribution confined to “Yes,” “Yes,” “No,” and “Okay.” He handed the phone back to me.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said.
“I hope you won’t find tonight too awful, my sweet. Try not to mind so much and remember that it’s only sex.”
“It is going to be awful. And it’s not just sex – there will be people having sex right in front of us! It’s going to be revolting.”
“Matilda, a lot of my men would have loved to be assigned to this job. That’s why I picked Farrell to go with you. He’s not somebody who’s going to get a cheap thrill out of it. And he’ll take whatever happens in his stride and not become distracted by the action from always considering your safety. I thought about it carefully before I made my decision on which man to send along with you. I want you to know that, my sweet. I don’t do things lightly when you’re involved. I even thought of doing this job myself.”
Those were lovely words and an unexpected rush of emotion for him flooded me. “Why didn’t you?” I asked softly. I’d never been on assignment with him.
“I have a date tonight. With Vanessa.”
My emotion for him died a quick death. “Oh. Enjoy yourself.” I tried not to sound bitter.
“I’ll give you a ring later.”
“Sure. Bye.”
I knew he wouldn’t ring me. He’d be too occupied with the flawless Vanessa. Now officially down in the dumps, I took my mind off it all by ringing Will, figuring he’d be amused to know what I was up to tonight. His phone diverted to his voicemail and I left a short message, trying not to sound as cranky as I felt. I hadn’t been able to contact him all week.
Farrell glanced sideways at me as we drove. “So I guess what I’ve heard about you and Heller is true. I didn’t believe it at first.”
My voice was cold. “And what have you heard about him and me exactly?”
“That you’re his woman.”
I bristled immediately. “What makes you believe that?”
“Nobody else working for him would get away with talking to him the way you do. You’re very familiar with him.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. He’s just a bit more indulgent of me, that’s all. He thinks I’m an idiot and he feels sorry for me. Despite what everyone thinks, I am not Heller’s woman. I have a boyfriend and his name’s not Heller. He has a girlfriend and it’s not me,” I spat out angrily. It was none of his damn business.
Another glance. “Why don’t you just say that next time?”
“Say what?” I asked sullenly.
“That it’s none of my damn business?”
I stared at him, astonished. “Are you psychic or something? I was just thinking that.”
“I could tell from the look on your face. You’re an open book, Chalmers.”
“Heller says that too. I don’t think I am.”
“You are.” I shrugged one shoulder as if I didn’t care what he thought, although I did. “There’s nothing wrong with that though. It’s refreshingly honest,” he continued.
I decided to change the topic from my ridiculous and inconvenient transparency. A woman needs to be able to lie on occasion, when essential. It’s not just important; it’s a social necessity in this day and age.
“Did you serve in Afghanistan with the SAS?” I asked him out of the blue.
He gave me a faintly amused look – only the barest movement of his mouth revealing any clue to that emotion – to let me know he was aware of my obvious tactic. It was probably the closest he ever went to an actual smile. “Yes.”
“Why did you leave the army?”
“My wife had enough of me being away from home.”
“I didn’t know you were married.”
A pause before he answered. “I’m not. Not any more.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I mumbled, feeling awkward, although I had no idea why I was sorry. I hadn’t done anything to cause his marriage to break up.
We didn’t speak again until we arrived at our destination.
Chapter 13
The house we pulled up outside of was a very modern timber and brick one-story building with a sweeping roofline. It was located in a well-heeled suburb, not one of the wealthiest in the city, but in the top ten. The street was leafy and the neighbouring houses were well-screened by foliage hedges. Nice and private, but I wondered what the neighbours would think if they found out what was going to happen here tonight. Who knew though, perhaps they were invited as well? Maybe it was a swinging street in a staid neighbourhood?
Farrell and I climbed out of the 4WD, locked it and crunched our way up the gravel driveway, which was bordered with beds of colourful flowering annuals. The lawn was lush, the shrubs neatly trimmed. A small water feature splashed invitingly in a paved courtyard to one side of the front yard, surrounded by rendered blockwork walls painted in tasteful neutral tones. It was a lovely and tranquil garden for such a debauched event.
Farrell knocked confidently on the glass and timber front door.
“Coming!” we heard a voice yelling from inside and heard some footsteps approaching rapidly. The door was flung open with enthusiasm and a beaming male face peered out at us. “The security people! Excellent. You’re right on time. Come in, come in.”
He waved us down a hallway floored in light timber, the walls painted in brilliant white, intriguing contemporary tapestries hanging on the walls, dangling down to the floor. We stepped into a stylishly furnished living area, light and breezy with high raked ceilings supported by huge beams. Glass folding doors were opened on to a terraced entertainment area at the back. The late afternoon sunlight glinted off the deep blue water of a swimming pool. A modern kitchen was off to one side of the living area and an elegant dining suite next to the kitchen.
“Sit down, please,” he urged, indicating some white leather sofas in the living room. We sat together on a long sofa while he lounged on a chaise near the fireplace. He was handsome, in his early forties, well-groomed, with a fashionable haircut, dark hair, liquid dark eyes and sensuous red lips. He was dressed casually in jeans and a designer buttoned short-sleeved shirt.
“I’m Marty Scholler, host of tonight’s event. My wife, Gabriela, is just getting ready at the moment. She’ll be out soon.” We introduced ourselves and he shook hands, warmly pressing mine and holding it just a mite too long for politeness sake, which didn’t escape Farrell’s eagle eyes. “My, you two are good-looking enough to join in with us tonight.”
We both sat there staring at him, faces stony. He laughed. “Well, maybe not. Best not to mix business with pleasure. Speaking of mixing, can I get either of you a drink?” We both declined. Heller would kill us if he caught us drinking on the job.
Marty stood up and went over to a small bar in the corner o
f the room and made two G&Ts, bringing one back to the chaise lounge with him, leaving one on the bar, perhaps for his partner.
“Let me tell you a bit about tonight. Gabriela and I belong to a private play club, the City Swingers, which was started by some friends of ours. There are about sixty members in this city, but we’ll have only about twenty people coming to our little party tonight. It’s an elite club. Potential members have to meet certain requirements before they’re allowed to join. We usually base that on income, education and attractiveness, so we’re a fairly homogenous group with a lot in common with each other. Only first names or pseudonyms are used. We have a party every month, which is hosted by a different couple each time. Gabriela and I prefer to host it in our own home when it’s our turn, but others take over a bar or other venue, depending on the number of members who are able to make it from month to month.”
He paused to take a sip from his G&T. “We only allow couples or single women into the club and at our parties. No single men allowed. If a single man wants to join, he has to bring a woman with him. It makes it more comfortable for all the women that way. We always try to keep the gender numbers even or to have slightly more women at the parties. Women are often keen to try some girl-on-girl action, but we rarely find men as keen to do any men-on-men, so that’s why we restrict single men. It would change the whole dynamic of the evening to have too many men at our parties. Women would feel pressured to have sex with multiple partners, or some men would simply miss out.”
Farrell and I exchanged glances while Marty took another sip. It was going to be as bad as I imagined.
Marty continued. “We do full swap and group sex, mainly in the same room. It will take place in this room actually. People are welcome to use other rooms for privacy, but it’s meant to be a community event so most people want to share the experience with others. Gabriela and I have planned a great itinerary for the night. The evening will start with some welcome drinks and canapes out on the terrace. We have different couples coming to each event, and that will give everyone a chance to meet with others they mightn’t have met yet. Then we’ll gather back here in the living room to watch some explicit adult movies together. Usually things start happening naturally then, but if not, Gabriela will get the action going by orally pleasuring one of the men during the movie while we watch. Then we’ll turn the lights down and get everyone up dancing with each other to some slow music, the only rule being that you can’t dance with your own partner. After that, the magic usually happens on its own. And we all end up having a great play time!”
