by J. A. Kerr
Directing the wand at the sensitive inner arm skin, she immediately felt him respond. Smiling to herself, she worked her way once again up and down his arms and neck. She could feel his tension building with every repetition, the slow rhythmic music heightening the experience, the songs well-known but slowed down and changed somehow to fit the mood of The Braille Club perfectly. She pressed the auto switch for the suit and clicked the wand onto the chair, increasing the rhythms in the belt. When she eventually nibbled his ear she was rewarded with a gasp. Encouraged by this, she put her lips on his skin and slowly placed feather light kisses along the side of his neck. The aromatic spiced scent from his neck was familiar and it almost stopped her in her tracks. Had she not just met him, she would never have known, but she was sure it was the same scent she noticed when Luke bent over and kissed her cheek.
She knew they all wore Caligo, but his had a slight overtone of what…she couldn’t place it. Was it Luke? It was hard to tell, and she felt completely unnerved. She wasn’t sure if she felt pleased or not. Her fingers moved to activate the chair, and it connected to the suit. As the slow pulses vibrated beneath her, she felt her breath quicken. When she started to run her hands over his face once again, she sensed his heightened tension, her touch igniting a response in both of them. She began to push him harder, her tongue now slipped into his ear before her teeth pulled on his lobe. The belt increased and his whole body shivered, her nails returning to his lips and neck, careful not to mark his skin.
Hot now, her breathing fast, she desperately wanted to kiss him but thought that would cross the line. Instead, she increased the vibrations of the chair, rewarded by a choked groan but still no bells, and she realised her pride would be dented if she were unsuccessful.
Renewing her efforts, they were now agonisingly slow, her lips barely touching his sensitised skin, the veins straining in his neck. She saw now she needed that bell to ring because she wanted out of this room before she wanted more.
Losing herself in the moment, the vibrations now coursing through her body, she hit the circle button which released the central pulse which pushed upwards in the seat. Now nipping his skin gently while running her hands over his upper torso, she sensed he was close. She changed the locations of the pulses in both the chair and belt but still he hung on. He had left her with no alternative; equally aroused, she bent over him and kissed him hard.
His body jerked towards her as she heard the bells ring and enclosed in the locket around her neck, the key vibrated between her breasts. Everything seemed to be in slow motion as the equipment fell still. She immediately withdrew and walked through the door which had slid open when her key had vibrated. Dripping in sweat and completely exhilarated, she stripped the suit off and stepped into the shower cubicle, her body on fire and tingling with excitement. She wondered if it had been Luke as she hurried; only having a twenty minute period to shower and re-dress. Her key buzzed to indicate she had five minutes remaining before the door would be unlocked, and she would be expected to leave.
No one took any notice of her as she left the cubicle and walked towards the mirror to touch up her makeup, her breathing still erratic and her heart thumping in case someone should say something to her. She thought everyone would know what she’d been doing. She had never felt more self-conscious stepping back into the main club.
The first person she met as she left the ladies was her favourite music producer, and he stopped to embrace her. Again she inhaled that aromatic spiced scent. Was it different than Luke’s? Yes, she was sure of it; if only she could meet him again she would know for sure. She was wearing the same scent; it was unisex and yet it seemed to smell different on each individual.
The scent was part of her joining pack, and she adored it; had, in fact, made a bee line for the perfume shop, delighted she could take even more of it home. Most members felt the same, the scent reminded them of The Braille Club whilst they were away from it. She looked around for Luke but didn’t see him as she stood amongst a small group of people. All industry related, she was enjoying being hugged and kissed by several male colleagues. They all smelled like Luke, although she could now detect subtle differences.
Smiling ruefully, she would never know who she’d been with, and the thought thrilled her. She couldn’t wait for her next session, wondering if Luke was a Braille member or a guest for the night. Her mind started buzzing with all the possibilities. She didn’t spot Lucy until she turned around and flushed bright red, feeling guilty that she had been thinking of her boyfriend.
“Abbey, my God, you look good enough to eat, darling,” came her upper-class drawl.
“Lucy, nice to see you. I saw Luke earlier,” Abbey managed to keep her voice even as her flush deepened.
“Oh yes, he’s gone. Early start tomorrow and all that training malarkey. So tiresome and dreadfully boring, but then you know that already, I suppose,” she said, amusement in her voice.
“It comes with the territory, I’m afraid,” said Abbey. “But I know what you mean.”
“Shall we get a drink at the bar, darling? Since we’re both footie widows?”
Abbey hesitated; she didn’t know Lucy and felt bad after her earlier thoughts about Luke. Her phone bleeped and with relief she saw it was Steve, but to her annoyance read he was running late and would be another couple of hours; was she okay with her girlfriends? Abbey tried not to let her annoyance spoil her mood. She quickly replied no problem and to text her when he was ready to leave, but still experienced a stab of disappointment.
“Seems I have time after all,” said Abbey sheepishly, “but if you’ve got plans?”
Lucy smiled, a glint in her eye. “Cocktail?” she breathed.
Abbey frowned, giving the matter serious consideration, being more of a wine drinker, but admitted to loving the odd Cosmopolitan. She told Lucy this and two glasses appeared at the bar. They talked about everything and nothing, Abbey completely charmed by Lucy’s no-nonsense approach to both her work and her life. Several cocktails later and Abbey was feeling drunk. She’d only eaten a light lunch and had skipped dinner due to her stomach doing somersaults at the thought of her first real Braille experience.
“I need food,” said Abbey, horrified at how slurred she sounded.
Lucy had it organised in minutes. The service in the restaurant was quick, the food delicious, and Abbey, surprised at how hungry she felt, finished all three courses while Lucy smiled encouragingly.
“Better?” Lucy enquired.
With a large espresso in her hand, Abbey nodded and couldn’t believe it was now past two a.m. Where the hell was Steve? Having excused herself to go to the ladies, she felt the old familiar tension start to knot in her stomach as she picked up her mobile; no missed calls. Clicking into his number she dialled Steve but her call went straight to voicemail, and she didn’t leave a message. She was angry again; angry that he wasn’t with her and angry that, stupidly, she still cared.
As she left the ladies, she saw Lucy waving at her from a table filled with people. Her mood had darkened, and she wanted to go to bed now, but out of politeness she took the glass of champagne offered to her and sat down. Several glasses of champagne later Abbey was having the time of her life. She was on the dance floor, her body attached to a rather handsome man she had never seen before. As he pulled her close and they moved to the music, she felt a thrill of desire run through her. What a night. She had decided not to look at her mobile again; it would serve Steve right for being such a pig; she checked her watch and knew she’d had enough. Breaking away, she made her excuses and left the dance floor. Lucy caught her eye and nodded, saying her goodbyes as they both walked to the entrance.
She didn’t understand why she asked Lucy to her room for a drink that night. Disappointment and anger over Steve’s absence was a definite front runner, but maybe it was something deeper. Perhaps the need to be close to someone, to confide her worries and fears.
“Do you have time for a nightcap?” asked Abbey, throwing c
aution to the wind.
“Well…all right, just one,” she replied, checking her watch, not wanting to appear too keen.
They giggled and chatted in the lift, and Lucy whistled when she saw the room.
“Wow, this is stunning, I’ve never been in this room before,” she purred.
“Wine okay?” Abbey asked, removing the bottle from the chiller and pouring it into two glasses.
“Perfect,” replied Lucy.
“Let’s go outside.”
Lifting their glasses, they went outside. The balcony looked magical with its beautiful twinkling lights, and Abbey bent to light an outdoor fire. Lucy pulled a long, slim cigarette from her pack and noticing Abbey looking over, offered her one too.
Abbey took a long pull followed by a large sip of wine and felt a bit giddy. She sat down beside Lucy, sinking into the soft cushions and sighing. She savoured every moment of her cigarette, knowing how much Steve hated them. Bloody Steve, where was he? She leant back and closed her eyes, knowing she was drunk again, the heat of Lucy’s body making her sleepy.
“Abbey, you are forbidden to fall asleep,” said Lucy softly in her ear.
“Mmmmm,” Abbey mumbled.
“Abbey, you are so gorgeous, so beautiful,” continued Lucy, tracing her fingers around Abbey’s face.
Her already sensitised body responded, triggering a deep, deep longing.
Abbey smiled sadly. “Yeah, right. That’s why my husband’s stood me up yet again, why he’s not here with me, ’cause I’m sooooo gorgeous.”
A tear slipped down Abbey’s cheek, and Lucy leaned over to brush it away and kissed her. Abbey immediately responded, letting out a small gasp. Lucy’s lips were so soft and skilled. Abbey felt drenched in softness, Lucy’s skin like cashmere against hers, her hair like silk as it brushed against her face. It was intoxicating, and Abbey found it hard to resist her as her fingers started to trace down her neck. Lucy dropped her head, working her lips down Abbey’s throat, her hands caressing her shoulders and arms. Lowering her head further, her lips found Abbey’s right nipple through her dress, and she gently started to suck as her hands travelled down the rest of her body. Abbey moaned, feeling overwhelmed by the sensations running through her, her body squirming with pleasure; she wanted more, but not like this.
“Lucy,” her voice was ragged.
Lucy stopped, immediately lifting her head and looking Abbey straight in the eyes. Desire was heavy in the air and seemed to press down on both of them.
“Lucy, I’m not ready for this,” Abbey panted, standing up quickly as she heard her mobile bleep in her bag.
“Shit, that will be Steve,” said Abbey guiltily, snatching up her bag and locating her phone. “Yes, I’ve to meet him,” she breathed.
Lucy just smiled and smoothed her dress before standing. She had achieved what she wanted, she knew Abbey would be back and she would be waiting. If nothing else, Steve was a predictable cheat.
“It’s fine, I’ll get a cab,” her voice was low and sexy.
Abbey bit her lip as she stared at Lucy. Tall and willowy, her face striking, with clothes just the right side of edgy, she was every bit an aristocrat. She seemed to ooze class, sex, and danger while not even trying.
She hesitated before picking up her mobile.
“I’m sorry, Lucy.” Abbey quickly texted Steve back, to say she would meet him in reception.
Lucy merely shrugged and started to drift off towards the door. Abbey caught up with her.
There was something decadent and indecent about Lucy. Abbey had always been curious, and a little in awe of her. She was so confident and in control she couldn’t imagine her putting up with crap from anyone. It seemed only minutes later that her phone vibrated with a text saying Steve was downstairs.
Smiling, she opened the door, and they both slipped out.
“I’ll get off at the first floor and walk down the stairs,” said Lucy briskly. “We’ll have to arrange another night, here at the club, if you fancy?” she said, handing Abbey her card. “Call me?”
“Yes,” said Abbey hesitantly, leaning in to kiss Lucy goodbye on the cheek. But Lucy turned her face and their lips touched, sending a shock through Abbey and then she was gone. Abbey recoiled, momentarily embarrassed, but was soon on the ground floor just in time to see Steve flirting with the receptionist.
He spotted her and walked over. He mistook the desire he could see in his wife’s face to be for him and sighed deeply.
“Drink?” he said.
Abbey reached up and pulled his head down and kissed him long and hard, hoping the receptionist had a good view.
“No, let’s get room service,” she said huskily.
She wanted satisfaction, and she wanted to know if she still felt the same about Steve. They moved to the lift, but Steve was frowning.
“Babe,” he said hesitantly. “I’m done in, really tired.”
He pulled Abbey into an embrace but she felt him stagger a little. Alarmed, she saw his face grimace.
“Steve, what’s wrong?” she said, concerned now as the lift doors opened at their floor.
“It’s my head, Abbey…feels like it’s going to explode,” Steve groaned and Abbey could see the pain in his eyes.
Sobering up instantly, she took control. With her arms around him, they staggered down the corridor. Abbey struggled to open the door, with Steve’s weight bearing down on her but at last they were in the room. He just fell onto the bed holding his head, and Abbey ran to his side.
“I’m calling an ambulance,” she said, her heart thumping as she grabbed her phone. “Steve?” Her voice rose as she saw her husband roll over and vomit on the bed. She tried to talk to him, but he remained unresponsive and still. With shaking hands, she dialled 999, trying to keep her voice calm while requesting an ambulance and describing Steve’s symptoms to the telephone operator. She gave both the hotel address and room number as she followed the operator’s instructions.
Steve appeared to be unconscious, and reeling from the smell, she checked for a pulse, relieved when she found one. She was told to check his airways were free of obstruction and to try to roll him into the recovery position but she couldn’t budge him. Abbey mopped up the vomit as best she could. Wiping Steve’s face, she checked his mouth a second time, making sure he was breathing normally. She tried once again to move his body but couldn’t, as tears of frustration and fear threatened to overwhelm her. It seemed like forever before she heard a knock on the door and then thankfully the paramedics took over, quickly checking Steve before transferring him to a stretcher whilst he remained unmoving.
They gently asked her what had happened, and Abbey told them everything she knew, which wasn’t much as she realised Steve hadn’t confirmed his plans. Feeling a bit stupid, she tried to recall what he’d told her. She knew he had been at training and then what? Abbey racked her brains, drinks with the lads, yes, that’s what he had said relieved she had finally remembered.
Abbey started babbling, asking the same questions over and over.
What did they think was wrong? Was it serious? Was it normal to be unconscious for this length of time?
The answers were always the same. We’ll know more once we get him admitted, but he’s stable and she should try not to worry…what a stupid thing to say.
Chapter 30
THE BRAILLE CLUB
Braille Club, London, Present Day: The Braille Club was only tested once, by a large group of hedge fund managers gathered for a race night. It was held within ‘the cube,’ as most members liked to call it, the glass box reminding them of the TV game show. This highly intuitive group made a lot of money playing the markets; their job, sensing trends before they happened, making the races seem tame in comparison. Like a real race day, the corporate dining and bookies were the same, the ex-jockeys working the room, giving tips on the forthcoming races. They read about the background of each horse, what ground it preferred, and what races it had won. The only difference was instead of steppin
g onto the racecourse, they stepped inside the cube—the glass now opaque as the film of the race started to play. They all enjoyed the gambling and the thrill of the chase. Other members in Caligo were present, and they admired the sharply dressed crowd.
This group sensed the change of atmosphere within Caligo as midnight arrived. They had noticed the clock on the wall counting down and asked about it. A guy within the group broke free and selected a disappearing Braille member from within the crowd and followed him, the odds of him doing so extremely low but he had guessed right. Trusting his gut instinct, he caught his arm as he approached the restrooms, wanting to know what was going on…what he sensed he was missing. He paused as someone shouted his name, and it was with relief the startled Braille member slipped away. An old friend waved him over, and he cursed knowing he had somehow just missed his chance.
London, 2012
Benedict
Benedict was struggling for a partner for the fundraiser. His acceptance sent, at first he decided to go alone. On reflection, he felt this would draw attention to himself. He’d been at enough of these events to know partners were necessary; he would blend in better. Ava kept popping into his mind, professional, attractive, the perfect distraction.
He was aware that most of the women he encountered were attracted to him. It wasn’t vanity; it was reality. It was difficult initially. If they had a new female member of staff, she would suddenly become tongue-tied and shy in his presence. Many of the girls in the office had crushes on him. With time, they got used to him and things settled down. Could he trust Ava? She had never appeared interested in him, which he actually enjoyed, feeling that he could talk to her, let his guard down a bit.
He continued to mentally go through his list of suitable plus ones and found it very short indeed. It would have to be Ava, purely in a professional capacity, of course. He would need to attend some additional functions with his more senior staff, to keep things balanced. This would keep office gossip from building, and it was a small price to pay.
