by A. L. Brooks
“I think you might have. Ouch!” But Cassie was giggling, finally able to drop her leg off Nina’s shoulder and sit up.
They sat straddled across the bench, facing each other then, arms wrapped around each other.
“That was amazing,” whispered Cassie in between soft kisses to Nina’s face and neck. “You make me feel incredible.”
Nina pulled her a little closer. “Ditto,” she murmured, taking Cassie’s mouth into a deep, passionate kiss that was all about feeling and emotion rather than physicality. Cassie couldn’t get enough of Nina; every kiss and every touch just made her want more.
“Come home with me,” Nina said as they pulled apart. “I want to wake up with you in my bed tomorrow.”
Cassie smiled—a big, broad smile of joy. “God, yes please!” she said and pulled Nina to her feet.
* * *
Cassie had finished tidying her bar on Saturday night when Nina came sprinting in from the office. Her face was flushed, and she was grinning from ear to ear. Cassie raised an eyebrow.
“What’s got you looking so hot and bothered?”
Nina chuckled and reached across the bar to plant a big kiss on Cassie’s lips.
“Tell you later,” she said when she pulled back and dashed off to Red to clean up.
“I’m coming to help you,” Cassie called after her.
“Great!” came Nina’s muffled reply.
Cassie giggled and switched off the bar lights. She walked into Red and leaned on the bar, amused at the antics of her girlfriend. At least, she presumed she was her girlfriend. Maybe she should check that with Nina before too long…
Nina was cleaning at a sprint, trying to do four things at once and failing badly at all of them. After a few moments, Cassie took pity and strode across the room to grab Nina around the waist from behind and pull her to a stop midstride.
“Enough!” she said in Nina’s ear, lingering to gently bite her earlobe.
Nina sighed, melting back into Cassie’s arms.
“Sorry, I just want to get done, so we can get out of here. I have plans for you, and they don’t involve bin bags and latex gloves.” Cassie giggled in her ear. “Well, maybe the latex gloves…”
Cassie snorted softly. “I’m helping, remember?”
Nina turned in Cassie’s arms and nodded. “Okay, gorgeous. If it means we get the fuck out of here faster, I’m all for it.”
“It does, so tell me what you want me to do.”
Nina smiled and held Cassie’s gaze. “Well, there’s an offer,” she said, her voice sultry and her eyes darkening slightly.
“Focus, Nina, focus! Cleaning tasks. What cleaning tasks do you want me to do?”
“Spoilsport,” Nina mumbled as she handed Cassie the glass holder. “You do glasses and bottles, I’ll do rubbish,” she said in a slightly petulant tone.
Between them, they finished in record time. Nina flipped off the bar lights, followed by the main lights, and they walked out of the darkened room arm-in-arm. They switched off the main lights in Green as they walked through there and into the staff room to grab their coats and bags.
Mandy was waiting for them in the doorway to her office, smiling. When Cassie saw her, she tried to extricate herself from Nina’s hold, and Mandy’s smile grew even bigger.
Mandy held up one hand. “Don’t bother, I know,” she said, grinning as Cassie blushed. “And as I said to the other one earlier on, I’m very pleased for you both. Now, get the hell out of here and go have some fun.”
Nina giggled and pulled Cassie with her to the front door. “Come on, you heard the boss—we have official permission to go get sexy.”
Cassie sighed and then grinned as she looked at Mandy.
“What have I got myself into?” she wondered aloud.
“Hey, I’m right here!” Nina’s pout was very cute. Cassie leaned in and kissed her soundly.
“Yes, you are,” she said against Nina’s lips. She turned to Mandy, grinning even wider. “Oh, and I think I’m more than ready to go into the bar rotation for Red from next week.” She glanced at Nina, smirking. “I’ve got a lot of learning to do to keep this one satisfied,” she said, and both she and Mandy giggled as Nina’s mouth dropped open in shock.
“What the…” Nina’s voice, when it finally came, was strangled. She stared at Cassie, who put the tip of one finger under Nina’s chin and pushed up gently to close her mouth. Then she winked at Mandy and tugged a stumbling and stuttering Nina out into the cold night air.
CHAPTER 8
Manchester, 2003
Mandy gazed across the room from the mezzanine level. It was packed tonight, and she allowed herself a small, proud smile. They’d been open less than a year, but they were already the most popular club in Manchester. This was her third job in this city as a club manager, and this was the big one. She planned to do this one for about two years total, assuming they could keep this level of success going, and then she wanted to open her own club.
Working for Robbie Chapman was all right—mostly. He paid well and let her have almost full rein, but he was still the owner. He could change tack at any time, get rid her of her at any moment. He’d done that to other managers in his chain of clubs. Besides, she really wanted to run a gay club, and Robbie wouldn’t touch fag clubs, as he called them, with a barge pole.
Having been on the Manchester scene for a few years now, she’d watched it develop, noting what worked well and what didn’t. She’d listened in on conversations in bars and cafes to get a feel for what the gay men and women in this city wanted from their nightlife. She’d never be able to run anything this big for gays, but she was okay with that. It was all about the quality, not the size. She wanted top decor, furnishings, and facilities. She wanted top DJs and acts. She wanted a bit of gay class.
Then, of course, there was the other kind of club she wanted to run. But it would probably take a bit more time and thought to bring that one to life.
She glanced across to the main bar, seeking out Rebecca, the bar manager. She couldn’t help but stare at her, safe in the knowledge that Rebecca was unawares. God, she looked fucking gorgeous tonight—tight leather trousers, with a white shirt over a black vest top. Her hair was pinned up on one side, leaving a cascade of soft brown curls to waterfall down her left shoulder. Oh, how she longed to bury her face in that neck and her hands in that hair.
She shook herself and tore her gaze away. Stupid. Rebecca was off limits. She was very happily straight, engaged, and she was Mandy’s best friend. Leave it.
But God, it was so hard not to fantasize, and Mandy wondered for the umpteenth time how she’d ended up in this predicament. She, of the no-strings, nothing’s-going-to-tie-me-down lifelong attitude was madly, crazily, heartbreakingly in love for the first time in her life, at the age of forty-two and with a woman she couldn’t have. Life was fucking cruel sometimes.
They’d met eighteen months ago at the previous club Mandy had managed for Robbie. Smaller than this one, but he’d wanted to test her before letting her run one of his jewels, as he called them. Rebecca had been bar manager there too, and they’d quickly become friends, sharing the same sick sense of humour and love of fashion. And when Robbie had promoted Mandy to run this new club, it had been a no-brainer to bring Rebecca along to manage the bars.
It had taken Mandy only a couple of months to fall head-over-heels in love with her new friend. At first, she had found it amusing, and then it became increasingly intolerable as she realised just how deep her feelings ran. She should have put some distance between them, but she just couldn’t do it. Being with Rebecca brought so much joy into her life; she couldn’t deprive herself of it. So she’d learned to suppress her yearnings and make do with the wonderfully satisfying friendship that Rebecca offered.
She needed to find an outlet for her deeper desires in other places, with other women—faceless, nameless women—as she had done for years now.
True, it had been hard when Rebecca got engaged. Her boyfriend
had proposed about a month ago. Seeing Rebecca so excited about being engaged, and being asked to help plan a big wedding, was painful. As was wishing it was she who would be walking down the aisle with Rebecca.
But again, she’d set her own feelings aside and been the supportive friend Rebecca needed. They already had the plans up and running. Her fiancé was quite happy to leave all that to the “chicks,” as he called them, which made both of them laugh in disgust. At forty-two, Mandy was definitely too old to be called a chick, and Rebecca felt the same, even though she was slightly younger at thirty-eight. But that was her fiancé—Mr Laid Back. Or was that Mr Lazy? Mandy wasn’t quite sure, and the difference between the two titles was a very thin line. To be honest, she’d never quite taken to him, but had always assumed that was because, in her eyes, no man could ever be good enough for Rebecca.
She heaved a big sigh and pushed all thoughts of wedding plans—and Rebecca—out of her mind. She turned back to watch the main room for a few more moments before heading down to her office. She had payroll to finish, and there was a very chilled glass of Prosecco with her name on it somewhere down at the main bar.
CHAPTER 9
Manchester, present day
Lou showered slowly, standing under the hot water with her head tipped back, enjoying the sensation as it gushed over her breasts and down over her abs. It was early yet, but she liked to take her time before heading out to the club. For her, this was a subtle form of foreplay. She listened to her body tell her what mood it was in. More often than not she was the “aggressor” on club nights, but that took so much energy to pull off. It was a struggle. In order to keep the interactions exactly as she desired them—not very vocal and at a pace she controlled—required her to be the one in charge. And yet, that went against her basic instincts.
She had learned, though, it was generally the only way it worked for her. Occasionally, she had been the one who found a spot on the wall, waited, and let someone else come to her. Usually on nights like tonight, when she was just too tired to do anything else. But those nights were always the most uncomfortable for her. She could never be sure who or what she was going to get. Battling herself was definitely wearing her down, and thoughts of how to change that had crept to the forefront of her mind lately.
It was funny, but since that time with Max, she’d struggled to find that same level of intensity. That had been, by far, her best, most…intimate…experience at the club since she’d discovered it a year ago. In other circumstances, Max would definitely be the kind of woman she could imagine having something more with, someone who could kindle that kind of passion in her with one look, one touch.
Their first kiss had been so powerful, and the sex that had followed had stayed in her memory for days, weeks. Of course, a relationship was out of the question. To build a relationship, she would have to relate to someone, to converse, to share, to reveal. All things Lou was incapable of.
This was why the club had been such a godsend. It was the magical solution for her. At the club, once she’d gone through all the mental gymnastics to get herself through the front door, she was able to set aside her inherent, painful shyness. She could transform herself into anyone she wanted to be.
The club gave her the physical release she needed for her inner passionate self, the hidden Lou that was desperate to be free. She just wasn’t quite strong enough to achieve it in everyday life.
Her job at the insurance company allowed her to keep her interactions to email and the occasional phone call. Face-to-face situations were rarely needed, and if they were, most people just accepted that she was quiet and perhaps a little odd, but harmless enough. She was grateful for that. She enjoyed her work, and it paid well enough for her quiet lifestyle.
Tonight, because she was so tired, she would wait by the wall and see who approached. She would let someone else make all the moves and hope that person didn’t push her into an uncomfortable headspace, that she would be able to release the pressure that had built up inside of her these past couple of weeks.
* * *
The taxi dropped her a couple of streets away—she never liked to be dropped right at the door. She used her time as she approached the club to gather her bravery. The cold November rain had settled in for the weekend, so she kept her umbrella close over her head to protect her hair she’d so carefully styled.
Mandy let her in, took Lou’s cash, and then left her to stow her coat, soggy umbrella, and bag in one of the lockers. Mandy had introduced herself that first night, which Lou imagined she did to all the newbies, but it had taken Lou a couple of months to feel comfortable enough to meet her eyes, smile an unspoken greeting, and tell Mandy her name.
In the locker room, Lou shook herself, trying to dispel the maudlin thoughts. She arched her back a couple of times to release some tension and then, finally ready, stepped out into the hallway.
She walked through into the Green Room and stopped for a drink. It took her a while to get into the feel of the evening. On her very first night, she hadn’t watched anyone much at all, too embarrassed to be caught staring. Then she’d realised that everyone was voyeuristic, and gradually, she had allowed herself to look too.
She sat at the bar with her first beer. The barwoman was the dark-haired one with the long ponytail, and she gave Lou a small smile. Lou had seen her in the gym she used each morning. She was pretty sure the woman didn’t know her as their workout sessions had only crossed paths a few times. She was fit and had a nice lean body, but she was too thin for Lou. She much preferred curves and softness.
It was pretty quiet, only two couples already fully in action and two other women along the wall, quietly sipping their drinks while they watched the couples and the door to see who came in. Lou focused her attention on a couple in the corner. With their jeans and underwear down around their knees, they were taking turns fucking each other, never quite bringing each other to orgasm. It was just one endless fuck that had them both panting. She eventually realised they might have been baiting each other, seeing who would “break” first, because suddenly one of them groaned, “Oh Christ,” and dropped to her knees to bury her face in the other’s pussy. She licked until her partner screamed her pleasure. Lou smiled, relishing the way this club enabled anyone to let loose with zero inhibitions.
As she sipped her beer, the room gradually filled. Not everyone stopped in Green, of course. Quite a few wandered through to Blue or Red, although they invariably took their time as they crossed the room to check things out. Lou struggled to tune in to what her body wanted tonight. All she could come up with was the vague notion that she didn’t want to think about it in any detail. She wanted to feel and come, and she really didn’t care how that happened.
She moved to the centre bar, wondering if a closer proximity to things would help. She watched as one woman slowly fucked another. They were down on the floor, one sitting with the other straddling her thighs. With her head thrown back, the one on top slowly plunged up and down the other woman’s fingers.
The position sparked something in Lou. Was it the closeness? Or maybe it was the fact that the one being fucked was also the one in control. Whatever it was, it stirred her up, awakening her. She followed the feeling, connected with it, and let it tell her what she needed.
And then she knew. A visit to the Blue Room might help, for once.
She walked into Blue and ordered her drink from the cute woman with braids who always gave her a small wink whenever their paths crossed. It was probably against the rules, but Lou had been here enough times to know all three barwomen by sight, and they all acknowledged her in some way. She smiled back and made her way to the stools at the centre bar.
She’d only visited Blue a few times in the past, purely to watch. She had never been on the receiving end, but she had fantasised about it occasionally. Tonight, it was time to make it a reality. She had a specific physical type in mind and took her time searching the room. She didn’t see her ideal woman just yet, but she’d wait. I
f this place had taught her one thing, it was patience.
She had just finished her second beer when the right one walked in. Not too tall, solid build, leather trousers, and a very tight white tee shirt that stretched over full breasts. Her deeply black skin and strong bone structure hinted at an African heritage, rather than Caribbean. She had cropped hair, and both ears were pierced multiple times from top to lobe. Lou’s cunt tightened.
Yep, this one.
She waited a few moments to make sure the woman was staying in Blue. Hopefully she was packing; the whole effect would be ruined if she expected Lou to deliver. The woman strolled almost arrogantly around the room, checking out what was on offer. Oh yeah, she would do very nicely. Lou grinned in relief as she finally started to slip into the right headspace for what she needed tonight.
Taking a deep breath and mustering every bit of courage she could, Lou slipped off her stool just as the woman walked past her corner of the bar. She turned her gaze in Lou’s direction and stopped to look Lou up and down, slowly, hungrily. Lou’s pulse quickened, and juice leaked from her cunt. She stepped slowly up to the woman and—forcing herself to be bolder than she could usually imagine being—put her hand on the woman’s crotch. She was rewarded with the hardness she’d hoped to find and a sharp intake of breath from her prospective partner.
“Cheeky little bitch,” the woman murmured with a smile.
“I just know what I want, and I don’t want to waste time looking in the wrong place.” Lou’s voice came out strong even though she was a mess of nerves and fear on the inside. If she got this bit right, she’d not have to say much more.
The woman laughed quietly, without malice, and Lou sighed in relief.
“What’s your name?” Her voice was deep and husky.
“Lou.”
Her new partner smiled, her gaze drifting down over Lou’s breasts.
“Chris,” she murmured as she took hold of the front of Lou’s red, silky shirt and led her to a spare space on the wall. Lou let herself tune in to groans and gasps around her, her excitement rising. She was finally, to her huge relief, in the zone, ready to submit to whatever this woman wanted to do to her.
