“What is it?”
“It’s a house party,” Cypress said. “Yes, it’sthatkind of party. You could meet my friends, see the scene. Think of it as an act of trust. These things are very private, and you’re gonna see some shit.”
“If I go with you, we don’t have to do anything, do we?” Tom felt unease crawling up the back of his neck. “Like… sex?”
“No,” Cypress replied. “I’m going for drinks and to catch up with some people. I didn’t have any plans to play. We’ll only do that if you want to.”
“Okay,” Tom said, reaching down to take Cypress’s hand to ease his anxiety.
It was just a party at someone’s house, a super-secret sex party where people would be doing God knows what.
“Doors open at nine o’clock, close at a quarter after.” Cypress stifled a yawn before continuing, “You need to be ready by no later than eight-thirty so we can get there on time. Once the doors close, that’s it.”
“Really? It’s that… strict?”
“There’s rules for these things. Need your ID since it’ll be your first time, have to leave your phone out in the car, any bag you bring in has to be checked, stuff like that.”
“Seriously?” Tom was surprised there were so many restrictions. “Wait, why no phones?”
“No cameras of any kind allowed. These areprivateevents. People don’t want pictures of themselves doing their thing floating around out there, you know?”
“Right. Yeah.”
“Text me tomorrow, let me know if you want to go.”
“Okay, sure.”
“Sleep sweetly, Tom.”
“Good night, Cypress. Thank you.”
“Mmhm.”
Tom fidgeted. “Hey, Cypress?”
“Mm?”
“What do I wear?”
Cypress laughed, kissing Tom’s shoulder sweetly. “Whatever you want. Now go to sleep.”
“Right. Got it.” Tom still had a thousand more questions to ask about what exactly was appropriate dress for this kind of event, but his body was too tired, and it won out over his restless brain.
He slept long and hard, not even waking up until his alarm was going off the next morning.
Ugh, what time was it?
He blearily stared at his phone, grumbling when he saw it was six in the morning. He’d forgotten he had to get up earlier than normal to take Mister Doodles back home before going into work.
Tom took a few moments to enjoy the lingering scent of Cypress on all the bedclothes, running his hands over his body as he started to feel the urge to replay some particularly vivid parts of last night’s carnal adventures through his brain.
No, shit. He didn’t have time.
His first stop was the master bathroom, a large, tiled room with a giant claw-footed tub, a spacious shower, and a double vanity with elegantly framed mirrors hanging over each sink.
One sink was already occupied with Cypress’s toiletries, and Tom smiled when he saw his own neatly lined up beside the other. Everything was here except his cologne. He groaned loudly, realizing he must have left it back at his house.
There were a few bottles on Cypress’s side of the sink, and Tom gave them a few quick sniffs. He paused when he found the one he knew, warm and citrusy. He borrowed a few sprays and enjoyed the familiar scent. He said his affirmations all three times, including the new one, and left to finish getting ready.
