Club Prive: Book II

by M. S. Parker

  The driver opened the door and I swung my legs out, feeling decidedly awkward as I tried to climb out gracefully. It wasn’t until I was halfway out that I realized Gavin had gotten out the other side and was standing in front of me with his hand out. I took his hand and let him help me the rest of the way.

  “I apologize. It was thoughtless of me not to have you get into the car first so I could help you out when we arrived.” Gavin wrapped my arm around his so that my hand was resting on the back of his forearm. “Though, in my defense, it’s nearly impossible to think straight with you looking like that.”

  I blushed. “Thank you.” Those two words seemed so inadequate compared to the compliment he’d just paid me.

  As if sensing my embarrassment, he changed the subject. “Have you ever stayed here?”

  I shook my head. “I’m still a paralegal, not a lawyer yet. I don’t think I could afford an hour in a place like this.”

  He shot me a sideways look, an amused grin playing on his lips. I started to ask him what was so funny, then what I’d said registered and my cute little blush turned into full-on red flames. Paying by the hour? What the hell had I been thinking? Gavin was going to think that I had sex on the brain.

  “I didn’t – I mean –” I stammered.

  “Relax.” He leaned down to whisper the word in my ear as the doorman opened the doors for us.

  I shivered as his hot breath puffed against my ear, making things low in my belly squirm. Maybe I did have sex on the brain, but only when it came to him. I’d never had a particularly active sex drive, though I wasn’t the prude Krissy thought I was either. I’d always liked sex, and there were times I wanted it, but it had never been like this.

  As soon as we stepped into the lobby, thoughts of sex vanished. It was all I could do to keep from gawking like some awestruck tourist. Rich wood paneling. Plush carpeting. Every piece of furniture looked like it cost more than my rent for half a year. Gavin kept us moving forward, past the check-in desk, and then we were following a pair of elegantly dressed members of high society. Panic began to creep in. What was I doing here? I didn’t belong with these people.

  Gavin put his hand over mind and applied gentle pressure, bringing my eyes to his face. He smiled at me. “Just breathe.”

  Easy for him to say. If I tried breathing too deeply, I was afraid I was going to either fall out of the dress or rip it. Still, I pushed back the panic and stood straighter. I wasn’t going to give Gavin the chance to regret having invited me.

  We walked past someone who was taking invitations, but Gavin didn’t hand anything over. The man just nodded at him like they knew each other. Then I was entering the main ballroom, and I forgot to wonder how much pull Gavin had.

  It was like something out of a dream, or a fairy tale. High vaulted ceilings. Expensive tapestries and ornamentation. And a chandelier. Not one of those little things pretentious people use to try to show how rich they are. This was a full-sized, falling at the end of Phantom’s first act, chandelier. I was standing in what I imagined Cinderella’s ballroom must have looked like.

  “The auction is first,” Gavin said.

  I nodded, barely understanding the words. An auction. Right. I let Gavin guide me to where seats had been set up at the front of the room, all facing a platform. He and I took a seat near the back, for which I was grateful. If we’d been in the front, I’d have been even more self-conscious than I was now.

  “In a few minutes, the auction will begin.” Gavin unhooked our arms, but took my hand again. I caught one of the passing women giving me a thinly disguised dirty look. Not that I could blame her. I might’ve been a bit partial, but I thought Gavin was the best-looking guy at the event.

  “What’s being auctioned off?” I asked, keeping my voice low. I didn’t want to seem as ignorant as I felt. Auburn, Alabama, was light-years away from this.

  “Art,” Gavin said. “Some very exquisite pieces have been donated. All of the proceeds from the auction go to Feed a Child.”

  The name sounded familiar. “Isn’t that the charity for poor and starving children in the US?”

  Gavin nodded, looking pleased that I knew of it. “Howard is the spokesperson for Feed a Child. He actually donated quite a few pieces for the auction.”

  I filed away that bit of information for Howard’s case. If his wife brought up all of the women he’d been seen with, it would be good to have something as positive as Feed a Child to counter with.

  I turned my attention to the stage as the auctioneer walked to the podium. The first painting was brought out and the bidding began. I watched as hands twitched and gestured faster than I could follow. When the auctioneer declared the painting sold for twenty-five thousand dollars, I couldn’t believe how quickly it had happened.

  “This next one is one of my favorites,” Gavin whispered in my ear. He leaned close so that our arms were pressed together.

  I didn’t turn towards him, afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from kissing him. Instead, I let him talk, narrating what I was seeing.

  “Gerard Thomas isn’t a very well-known artist, but his work is simply beautiful. Look at the lines, the color. I think in another twenty years, his paintings will be in as much demand as some of the greats.”

  I had to admit, the windmill among a field of flowers was quite lovely.

  “He did this particular work three years ago, shortly after his wife died,” Gavin continued. “When asked why he’d named a painting of a windmill and flowers after his wife, he’d simply said that it was the closest he could ever come to capturing what had made her unique.”

  Wow. I squeezed Gavin’s hand to let him know that I’d appreciated the story. Each subsequent painting brought a small anecdote, but none was as personal as the one for the painting titled Callie Rose. Near the end of the auction, another of Howard’s donations was brought out. The bidding for this one was fierce. Gavin told me that it was an abstract from nineteen ninety-one, a work by Michael Payton entitled Soul Searching.

  As the bids climbed past forty thousand dollars, I stared at the painting, trying to see what everyone else saw. I couldn’t though. All I saw was something that looked like a three year-old had done it with finger paints.

  I didn’t say that out loud, of course, not even when it sold for seventy-five thousand dollars.

  At least it was all going to charity.

  Chapter 7

  Once the auction ended, we were directed to the tables set up behind the auctioneer’s platform. Gavin explained as we walked that two hundred people had bought seats for a gala dinner. Again, all of the proceeds went to Feed a Child. Curious, I asked how much the seats cost. I immediately regretted it when Gavin said one thousand dollars. He must’ve seen the shock on my face because he released my hand and put his palm on the small of my back, allowing our bodies to move closer together.

  “It’s a great cause and I can afford it,” he murmured. “Besides, I’d pay more than that just to see you in that dress, smiling.”

  I looked up, giving him a weak smile. He didn’t understand. I was a scholarship kid who’d still needed to take out loans to pay for college. For me, the money I made as a paralegal was more than my parents had ever made combined. A lawyer’s salary would make me feel rich. And still, the poor girl from the South who lived inside me couldn’t imagine spending a thousand dollars on a meal, even if it was for charity.

  He led us to our seats and pulled out my chair. I sank into it gratefully. The shoes may have looked great with the dress, but they weren’t the most comfortable things. As he pushed in my seat, an elderly couple approached. Everything about them said old money. I took as deep a breath as I dared and prepared to make small talk.

  Less than a quarter of an hour later, it was clear that I wasn’t going to need to worry about small talk. The eight other people at the table all seemed to know each other and their expressions made it clear that they merely tolerated us. No attempt was made to include me as they discussed politics
and economics. Gavin would occasionally throw me glances, as if to ask if I was okay, and I’d just smile.

  By the time our first course had come, I was ignoring the conversation around me and letting my mind wander. Unfortunately, the place it kept wandering to was Gavin, and the things I was thinking were far from appropriate.

  Dropping my fork and crawling under the table to get it. Moving between his legs so I could touch him, unzip his pants, and take him in my mouth right there. Listen to him try to carry on a conversation while my tongue was dancing over his skin. Feel him spill into my mouth.

  I pressed my thighs together, the ache between them growing. A new scenario came into my mind.

  Taking Gavin’s hand and leading him to the bathroom, not caring if people saw us go in. Taking off my soaked panties and sitting on the edge of the sink, waiting for him to sink into me, hot flesh melding together. Each stroke taking me higher and higher. Moaning and calling out his name, hoping that the roomful of stuck-up pricks could hear every sound. Climaxing with a scream.

  “Are you okay?” Gavin asked, the question cutting into my fantasy.

  “Mmhm.” I nodded. I wasn’t sure if that was entirely true, but I couldn’t exactly tell him that I was horny and thinking about all of the ways we could fuck right here. I doubted that would be considered polite dinner conversation.

  I took a long swallow of my champagne. I wanted something stronger. I needed something stronger so I could be brave enough to act on what I wanted. Not that I was going to bend over the table and ask him to fuck me right there, but I just wanted to do something. Something maybe a bit daring.

  I heard Krissy’s voice in my head, everything she’d ever said to me over the years about being myself and letting who I truly was show. I’d told her time and again that I was who I was, that I didn’t try to hide myself, but if these past couple weeks had taught me anything, it was that she was right. I censored myself, making sure I fit into the nice little box of who I was supposed to be. I did like being the “good girl,” but there were times I wanted to be a bit... naughty.

  Before I could lose my nerve, I dropped my hand out of sight. I felt Gavin startle when I put it on his knee. I turned to look at him as I slid my hand higher and higher. The muscles in his thigh jumped as I moved closer to what I wanted. His lips parted and I watched those beautiful blue eyes darken. He swallowed hard as my hand came to rest on the bulge at the front of his pants. I moved my fingers, ever so slightly, and felt him twitch. I smiled and began to caress him through the fabric of his pants. He swelled under my touch.

  After just a couple minutes, Gavin’s fingers closed around my wrist, moving my hand back to his knee. He leaned over and spoke low in my ear, the rough edge to his voice making my knees weak. “If you’d kept that up, I would’ve had a very embarrassing wet spot on the front of my pants.”

  I grinned, a surge of pride going through me that I’d been able to make him respond like that.

  “I’m going to need a minute,” he said. “And then we’re going to make some rounds, because if we keep sitting here, I’m not going to be able to stop myself from asking you to finish what you started.”

  I removed my hand from his leg and tried not to think about how obvious his erection would be if he stood up right now. It wasn’t easy.

  Several very long minutes passed, and then Gavin stood. He held out his hand and I took it, shivering as our palms skimmed each other. He hooked my arm through his again and we began to walk. He greeted people at every table we passed. Most appeared genuinely pleased to see him, and a few of the men gave Gavin sly smiles, their eyes flicking to me and back again while their wives looked oblivious. It took me until we were halfway through the room before I realized what those smiles were about.

  Those men were members of Club Privé. A hot blush began creeping up my neck as I realized what they must be thinking about me. Did they know that Gavin had used the club’s room? Did they know with whom? I didn’t think Gavin was the type to brag about his conquests, and I certainly hoped I was more to him than that, but men talked and, sometimes, things slipped out, even if unintentionally.

  I mentally scolded myself. I was a consenting adult, and I’d more than consented to what Gavin and I had done. I’d initiated it. There was nothing shameful about it, and I had nothing to be embarrassed about. I lifted my chin and made sure the next guy who gave me that look got a hard stare in return. If Gavin noticed, he didn’t say anything about it, he just continued to steer us around the tables.

  We stopped at the center one.

  “Carrie, you remember Howard.”

  “Of course,” I said automatically.

  “Carrie works for Ms. Styles. We all met last week,” Gavin explained to Howard.

  He didn’t remember who I was. It didn’t surprise me. Aside from the fact that I’d just been a paralegal there for note-taking at the time of our first introduction, I had a feeling Howard had his hands full trying to remember the names of all of the women in his life. Case in point, Howard’s table was the main table in the middle of the room. Three seats were empty and the other ones were occupied by beautiful women, each looking like she belonged in a Playboy spread. At least they were more clothed than those models. They all wore expensive-looking dresses that showed off their varying sizes of cleavage and hips. I suddenly felt like the Plain Jane I’d always believed myself to be.

  “It’s a pleasure to see you again,” Howard stood and extended his hand.

  I disentangled myself from Gavin and let Howard take my hand. He looked all the more like one of those old-fashioned movie stars when he raised my hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. My cheeks heated. I’d never had someone do that before, and I wondered if he did that for everyone or if he was just being extra charming because I was there as Gavin’s date.

  “Thank you, sir,” I said.

  “I can’t believe I don’t remember meeting you before,” he said, his gaze running over me. It wasn’t lecherous, but there was something about it that made me uncomfortable. “Surely I would have noticed someone who looked like you.”

  I gave him a half-smile. “This isn’t exactly my work attire.”

  Howard was silent for a moment, appearing to be thinking hard about something. Then his face lit up. “Of course! Carrie Summers. Mimi’s paralegal.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He waved his hand. “Enough with the ‘sir.’ It’s Howard.” He kept his eyes on me but spoke to the woman at his side. “Sheryl, if you would.” The woman next to him got up and moved into an empty seat.

  “Carrie, please.” Howard gestured at the seat next to him. “And, Gavin, please find a seat as well.”

  I glanced at Gavin, but couldn’t read his face. Fine, if he wasn’t going to say anything about us being separated, neither was I. I sat down next to Howard and, after a moment, Gavin sat between an attractive blond and a brunette who looked like she was half made of plastic.

  “Now, Carrie, I have to say, you look ravishing.” Howard angled his body towards me as if I captured all of his attention.

  I tried to smile at the compliment, but I thought it was a bit much. I deflected. “I’m flattered, Mr. Wei – Howard, but it’s all thanks to Prada and diamonds.” I laughed, the sound fake to my ears.

  He apparently didn’t notice. “Well, diamonds are a girl’s best friend,” he said. “But I think it’s a little more than that.” The look he gave me was right on the border of friendly and heading toward something more.

  I tried not to squirm. It wasn’t anything personal, I knew. He was like this with all women. After all, look at how many he had hanging all over him. I knew they didn’t do that just because he had money. He was charming in his own way, but I didn’t trust him. There was just something about him that made my skin crawl.

  “I must say,” he continued, “I now have a very good reason to continue to work with Ms. Styles.”

  Seriously? I was here as Gavin’s date and he was pushing the boundaries of
what constituted polite conversation.

  “How do you like working for Mimi?” he asked.

  I relaxed slightly. That was better. Work talk was fine. The last thing I needed was Gavin’s employer, whom my boss had a crush on, hitting on me for some unknown reason.

  “I enjoy it,” I said. “She’s an amazing attorney, and I’ve learned so much from her.”

  “She is good,” he said. “You know, I’ve been looking to hire some people to help my general counsel. I think you’d be a great fit at my company.”

  My eyes widened. He was offering me a job?

  “You’d be quite an asset to have on hand,” Howard said. “I can think of a million different ways I could use you.”

  Okay, maybe I was reading too much into things, but that sure sounded like an innuendo. I glanced at Gavin to see if he shared my opinion, but he was involved in what looked like a deep and meaningful conversation with the blond whose name was probably Candi or Sunshine. She was sitting in such a way that I knew their legs were touching. The brunette on the other side was leaning against him, her barely covered breasts pushing against his arm. A stab of jealousy went through me.

  I couldn’t take Howard flirting with me while Gavin just chatted up some bottle blond. I needed a minute.

  “Excuse me, Howard,” I stood. “I need to visit the powder room.”

  “Of course.” He smiled at me.

  I wasn’t sure I liked that smile.

  I started to walk away from the table, not looking back to see if Gavin had even noticed I was gone. He seemed rather busy at the moment.

  Chapter 8

  As I walked back towards the discreet restroom signs, I told myself that I was being stupid. If I got jealous every time some woman flirted with Gavin, I’d spend our entire relationship being that way. He was smart, confident, strong, sexy as hell, and rich. Just one of those things would be enough to attract plenty of female attention. Put them all together and they were a lethal combination. If Gavin and I had any chance of making anything out of what we had, I had to learn to accept that women were going to hit on him.