Seduced

by Kate Allure

  “No, I think a clean break is best. I’ll always remember you with love, but I think we need to end this…tonight.”

  She pulled her hands free and went to the credenza to retrieve his birthday present. “Thank you for your generous gift, but since it is in your colors, I think I should return the brooch. But thank you.” She pressed it into his hands. “Also, I think you should return the key to my flat.”

  His eyes narrowed on her, and the look on his face transformed from dismayed shock to scathing anger. “It begs credulity that you are rejecting me!” His voice grew louder with each word until he was yelling at her. Seeming to remember himself, he drew in a deep breath and gazed down at her in disdain. “You will never get a better offer, maybe no other offer. An aging divorcee, and you reject me? I am beginning to think I do not know you at all.”

  His insults hit her like a physical slap to her face. Arms wrapping around her belly, she fought against the agonizing pain. Their longtime friendship had proved so fragile and thin, it made her question if it had ever been real.

  She walked over to the door and held out her hand. “The feeling is mutual. I don’t know you, at all. Now give me my key.”

  “Victoria, dearest, please!” Reluctantly, he put the key in her hand and walked through the open door. He turned back to her, now appearing distraught. “I lost my temper. I apologize, but you were being rash. I urge you to reconsider, and—”

  “Goodbye, Rupert. I’m truly sorry for hurting you. I wish you well.”

  Before he could say anything more, she shut the door. The sound echoed in her empty chambers.

  Now, she was truly alone.

  Chapter Nine

  Life had turned surreal. Sitting in the luxury of Diana’s chauffeur-driven limo a week later, Tori watched the night lights of London speeding by but saw only a blur. On her way to a posh sex club, the guest of one of London’s reigning society queens, her racing thoughts swirled and blurred with equal speed.

  She clutched her long trench coat tightly around body to conceal the too-short black dress Diana had insisted would be considered conservative at Club Exotica. Her dear friend’s micro-mini served as proof that Tori’s attire was demure in comparison.

  If word ever got out, it could destroy her career. But Diana had been right—the place was a ghost. No record of it existed on the internet or anywhere that Tori could find. And she had very good resources.

  She huffed, a quiet little snort of dismay. What the hell was she doing?

  She was out of her mind to even think about setting one foot inside a place like that. She was a respected judge in Her Majesty’s Royal Courts of Justice. And she was on her way to Club Exotica, London’s most exclusive, secret, no-holds-barred sex club!

  She’d called Diana the night she broke up with Rupert. Her friend had heartily approved of her dumping the baron. Tori agreed that she had barely avoided another disastrous marriage. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as she’d expected, proof her heart had not been any more involved than her body.

  “But I will miss his friendship, terribly.”

  “I know, dahling. Although it almost sounds as if the friendship wasn’t real. He wanted you to be what he wanted. Not what you really are.”

  “I suppose.” Inside, Tori still hoped they could be friends again, someday.

  Diana had invited her to the club again, and while Tori had decided she wanted to see it, she’d told her friend there was no way she was having sex with strangers.

  “Just come enjoy a few drinks and some dancing. Think of it as a field trip into the world of sex, but you can be just an observer…literally. We call them voyeurs.” Diana laughed, her sexy, deep-throated mirth evidence of a woman who enjoyed life.

  Reluctantly, Tori had agreed to go rather than spend her first Saturday night post-boyfriend home alone.

  She tugged on her trench coat, needing the armor against her growing doubts.

  She must be out of her bloody fucking mind!

  “Ha-lloo in there.” Diana waved her hand in front of Tori’s face. “Have you heard a word I’ve said?”

  She blinked. Her palms were sweating, and she wiped them down her thighs. “Um. You know…maybe this isn’t such a good idea. I’m crazy to be going out right after breaking up, especially to a—” She dropped her voice to a whisper so the chauffeur wouldn’t hear. “To a sex club.”

  “Don’t worry, Thomas is as discreet as they come.” But Diana pressed a button, and the privacy screen rose. “It’ll be fine, I promise. Even Kate would agree that staying home alone is the worst thing for you right now. So, come see how the other half lives. The carnally fulfilled half.”

  But misgivings filled Tori, along with a hefty dose of mortification. “How can you be sure no one will recognize me?”

  “Dahling, look at yourself.” Diana flipped a switch, and a hidden vanity mirror lit up.

  Tori gazed at herself, stunned. In addition to the spiky high heels and slinky dress, her dangly silver earrings and bright-pink lipstick—also donated by Diana—gave her a youthful look. But the most striking difference was her hair, the glossy blond locks curling and bouncing on her shoulders. She was transformed. Not exactly a femme fatale, but still more sexy and glamorous than she would have thought possible.

  She smiled, pleasure taking the edge off her nervousness. “I do look different,” she said, her soft voice filled with wonder.

  “Honestly, once you add the mask, I don’t think anyone would recognize you even if you walked through the hallowed doors of the Royal Courts.”

  Tori laughed. “If I walked in there looking like this, they’d think I was looking for clients. Sex clients.”

  Diana joined her laughter. “Touché, dahling.”

  “But what if I get groped, or if some creep won’t leave me alone?”

  “The men are all total gentlemen. But if anyone does misbehave, room monitors are everywhere. Just call one over and they’ll take care of it. At Club Exotica, no means no. It’s strictly enforced, and if someone doesn’t follow the rules, they’re booted. Immediately. Membership revoked.”

  “That must be quite a scene.”

  “No, actually, they take the offender out the back. There’s never any scandalous scenes out front. It’s one of the many rules in the membership contract. The system works well, because no one wants to lose their access to the club, and worse, they’d forfeit their security deposit, a figure large enough to run a small country.” Diana chortled. “I’ve only heard of a booting happening once. And the monthly membership dues are high enough that you only get the highest echelons of power and society. People with enough power, by the way, to ensure…one way or another, that no one dare talk about even the existence of the club, let alone who’s in it.”

  “But what about the men? Aren’t they all tossers on the pull? Even if they happen to be very rich and powerful ones?”

  “Absolutely not! In order to join, one must have the patronage of another member, and the male-female ratio is kept at fifty-fifty, which works to our advantage, as the men have to work a little harder, so to speak…pun intended.” She grinned and winked.

  “I don’t see—”

  “Unlike the population at large, our equal ratio means that women can be choosy and guys have to be very nice to us, because there’s always another gent happy to step in.”

  Tori shook her head, confusion making her shrug her shoulders.

  Smiling impishly, Diana added, “You’ll see. And I think you’ll be very pleased with the selection. They are all—”

  “I’m not going to have sex with a stranger,” she reiterated, her pitch emphatic. “I told you that already.”

  “I’m just saying you’ll enjoy the eye candy on display, that’s all…and the staff are also delish.”

  “Well, I guess there’s no reason not to enjoy looking.” Tori laughed, relaxing a little.

  “Exactly! You are just there for a little erotic stimulation, and later in the privacy of your flat you
can use your rabbit to enjoy some personal time.”

  “My what?”

  Diana grinned. “It’s a special vibrator. Yet another great invention from the U.S. You can buy it and more at the club. They have the most charming boutique, the Box & Tackle, or something like that.”

  “Seriously? Box & Tackle?” Tori smirked, shaking her head again.

  “Tongue firmly inserted in cheek. It’s all in good fun, dahling. You’ll see.”

  Tori nodded slowly, unconvinced.

  The limo slowed and pulled up to a nondescript town house. An awning-covered walkway, an ornate brass door with a modern, high-tech lock, and a small sign that read “C. E.” were the only signs that the town house might be more than a private home on this quiet Mayfair street.

  “This is it?”

  They waited for the driver to open the limo door.

  “What did you expect?”

  “I don’t know. Something more…exotic.”

  Diana smiled and led her forward.

  Standing before the front door, Diana swiped her ornate ring across the lock, and the door clicked open.

  Tori blinked. And frowned.

  She needed a closer look at that ring.

  But before she could ask Diana, she was ushered inside with a flourish.

  Chapter Ten

  Tori looked around the marble-tiled vestibule. Another door stood directly across the small space. Again, it looked no different than the foyer of any posh Portland stone mansion in Mayfair. Perhaps Diana had exaggerated and the club would prove no more exciting than White’s gentlemen’s club—fancy and expensive but a total snooze fest.

  “This is the Jambo. Loosely, it’s Swahili for welcome. You’ll find all the rooms have cute names. Useful for those all-important hookups.” Diana winked. “This is where we mask up.” She handed Tori a beautiful feathered mask. “If you don’t like this one, I’ve more in my locker in the ladies’ lounge. Different styles for my different moods.”

  “This is fine.” Tori’s nerves spiked to high alert.

  After they put their masks on, Diana pressed an interior doorbell. A chime sounded distantly.

  The opposite door opened immediately, and she gaped. Diana had not exaggerated. A man with movie-star looks wearing a well-cut olive velvet jacket smiled broadly at them from behind his matching green mask. He stepped into the foyer and let the door swing shut behind him.

  “Welcome to Club Exotica, ladies. May I take your coats?” His voice was as husky and deep as the low note in a jazz love song.

  Tori had a moment’s panic, not wanting to remove the cloak covering her risqué dress.

  “You look gorgeous, dahling,” Diana encouraged.

  Don’t be so stupid, Tori told herself. Everyone here will be wearing clothing like this. With a deep breath, she yanked the coat open and slipped it off her shoulders.

  Without missing a beat, the doorman—or more accurately, door-hunk—murmured in a glowing timbre, “You ladies look lovely tonight. I hope you have an enjoyable visit to our club.”

  A side door labeled “Your Host” opened, and a tall, striking brunette emerged. She wore a slim white dress—Chanel, perhaps.

  This place was a well-oiled machine.

  Smiling graciously, the hostess invited them into her office, her voice soothing and cultured. Tori wondered why the woman didn’t also wear a mask.

  “Good evening. I’m Miss Anna Devine, the house manager,” she told Tori, then offered them both an aperitif.

  Sipping the fruity liqueur in a cut-crystal glass, Tori looked around the plush office. From the dark wood paneling to the silk-upholstered Bergère armchairs they were now sitting on, everything screamed expensive. Über expensive and old world. Every detail was geared toward making wealthy members feel pampered, relaxed, and immersed in decadent luxury.

  With hushed, refined tones, the house manager tactfully explained some basic club rules and the need for signing liability paperwork. “I apologize, but we require that you sign the forms with your real name, and I’ll need to verify it with your identification. However, let me assure you that the documents are kept in a locked cabinet, to which absolutely no one but myself and the two owners have access. The rest of the staff will call you by the alias of your choosing.”

  Tori looked to Diana, who nodded her assurance that this was all normal procedure. Returning her gaze to the beautiful woman now seated behind an antique mahogany desk, Tori asked the question Diana had declined answering. “Miss Devine, is there a guest fee?”

  “Yes. Such fees and any incidentals are automatically billed to the member’s account.” She smiled. “No money is exchanged at the club, ever. Everything is billed to a member’s account and paid automatically each month by wire transaction.”

  Uncomfortable about this arrangement, not wanting to run up extra fees even if her friend could afford it, she gave Diana’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be reimbursing you for all my expenses, or I won’t be staying.”

  “It’s not necessary. I’d like this to be my treat. But I know you won’t take full advantage of everything on offer unless I agree to let you pay your own way.”

  Tori didn’t bother repeating that she would not be taking full advantage of everything the club offered.

  The house manager sat serenely in front of them, the epitome of grace and patience, as if nothing would ruffle her. Tori imagined she’d probably look just as calm if they were talking about murdering someone…or more likely, whom they planned to fuck this evening. The unflappable Miss Devine had probably heard many such conversations. At the thought, Tori giggled.

  The other women turned to her, and she tried to stifle her mirth. “Sorry. I think, perhaps, I’m a bit nervous.”

  That comment, of all things, seemed to affect the manager. She sat straighter and leaned toward her. “Madame, if there is anything I can do to put you at ease, please do not hesitate to ask. Truly. My role here is to ensure that everyone—guests, members, and even staff—is comfortable and able to fully enjoy their experience at the club.”

  Miss Devine looked expectantly at her, but she couldn’t think of anything to say except a mumbled thanks. The woman was so beautiful and sexy, it made her want to ask what level of “comfort” the house manager provided, but Diana had insisted that prostitution wasn’t on the menu of services. All the sex happening here was the mutual-consent kind, not for money.

  Miss Devine offered to give them a brief tour, but Diana declined. “No need. I’ll show my friend around.”

  “Very good. Do have fun, ladies.”

  Then Miss Devine opened the inside door to reveal a world of decadence and eroticism.

  Chapter Eleven

  At last, Tori was about to enter the club’s inner sanctum. Her pulse raced, both anxiety and anticipation firing her blood like high-octane petrol.

  Diana smiled and squeezed her hand. “Ready?”

  It was inconceivable, completely outside anything Tori had ever expected to be doing…but here she was, a guest at a club where sex with strangers was the main entertainment. She might as well embrace the experience.

  She nodded and took a tentative step forward. “I am.”

  Diana strutted past her as if she owned the place, so Tori strived to match her swagger, determined to make the most of the evening, if just as an observer. This would be her one and only chance to explore this decadent world of sin. It would not be repeated.

  “This is the Serengeti, a sort of meeting area, and a place to see and be seen,” Diana explained in hushed tones. “Many a hookup happens here.”

  Tori looked around in awe. The house manager’s office had been posh, but this spectacular room made the other look Spartan in comparison. The large, circular chamber, draped in plush olive velvet and tan silk curtains, reminded her of a shadowy pasha’s tent. Low chairs and settees were scattered about with chaise lounges filling several alcoves that bordered the domed space. An eclectic mix of art deco and safari chic, the dramatic fu
rnishings and exotic animal prints blended together, screaming sensuality and mystery.

  No, rather, it whispered, enticing one to explore erotic fantasies down the many hallways that disappeared from the rotunda into the dusky darkness. Even the muted music had a slightly wild beat that suffused the body. This was a Serengeti plain for human animals, a glamorous gathering spot. Perfect for arranging those secret rendezvous Diana had mentioned.

  “Over there is the Watering Hole, the main bar,” Diana said quietly, pointing across the circle. “And that hall leads to the real fun.”

  In a nearby alcove, a guy in an expensive-looking blazer and fitted trousers reached out to pull the curtain closed on himself and a companion, her attire notable for its absence. A few couples strolled or talked in low voices, but otherwise the room was empty.

  “It’s pretty quiet here,” Tori said, somewhat surprised, as Diana led the way.

  “It’s early yet. Things don’t pick up until around ten, but I thought you’d be more comfortable seeing it like this.” Diana paused before a discreet sign. “This hallway leads to all the most decadent and fun playrooms.”

  “Bush Walk?” Tori blurted with a choked laugh. “That’s taking tongue-in-cheek a bit far.”

  “All in good fun, dahling,” Diana replied, her eyes twinkling. “Would you like to get a drink or go see the play spaces now?”

  “Oh, let’s not. This is plenty exciting right here.”

  More members arrived, and Diana had not exaggerated—the male patrons were all exceptionally good-looking, well dressed, and came in all variety of colors, sizes, and ages. The women were the same, noticeably dressed to impress—or lure—their attire ranging from designer lingerie to BDSM leather corsets and thigh-high boots. The staff were beyond gorgeous, all so stunning they could be models, and probably some were.

  Diana led Tori into the Watering Hole, an intimate barroom where some heavy groping had already begun. They settled into comfortable loungers, and after Tori had taken a few sips of her drink, curiosity began to overcome her reticence. “Okay, but what exactly goes on in the playrooms? I see a lot of fondling here, but everyone’s pretty much dressed and they’re not…you know, having sex.”