Jamie sighed. “Etta and I have barely done anything in a month, and I’m not screaming for any physical affection like that. She doesn’t seem to beeither. Between being sick, my brain, and her work… there hasn’t been time or energy for sex, let alone the kinky stuff.”
“Then if Etta has the time, you two should definitely go Friday night. A bunch of us have reserved a table up front. There’s room for two more.”
“Perhaps.”It could be nice.They didn’t go to the local BDSM dungeon very often, mostly because Etta wasn’t as public with her proclivities as others were. Hell, anyone who was anyone had seen Helen dominate Monique into the greatest submission anyone ever experienced. So happened it was at Midnight, too.I had front-row seats… speaking of…What a world Jamie lived in when she could watch one of her best friends have super kinky sex and not have it affect their friendship at all afterward.No wonder she and Etta had to part ways. She’s not into the lifestyle like Monique is.Jamie couldn’t imagine having sex with Helen. The woman was a different kind of Domme from Etta when she was in the mood.
“Well, if you decide to go, even at the last minute, let me know. I’ll make sure we save some seats for you two at our table.” Monique patted Jamie’s knee. “If Etta tells you she’s not in the mood, you might try suggesting otherwise. It might do you both a world of good to get a little inspiration to get those motors running again. Seriously.”
“Maybe you’re right. I’ll bring it up sometime soon.” Jamie didn’t mean to sound so distant, but she was still thinking of Adele. That… woman…Even I had a crush on her.And she was so nice! Surely she knew who Jamie was… shehadto know that Jamie was living with Etta, let alone serious with her. Was that why she went out of her way to talk to…
Wait.
Wait.
Wasn’t she at Etta’s office not too long ago? Doing what? Did Jamie want to know?
“You all right?”
Jamie flashed the fakest smile she could manage. “Life sureis a bucket of fucking bullshit, ain’t it?”
Monique’s eyes widened. “Hm…”
“Even when you’re happy. Even when things are going seemingly well. Bullshit. Constant piles of it.”
“Well…” Monique rested both hands on her stomach. “You’re not wrong. That whole party was a bucket of bullshit.”
“Uh-huh.” Jamie started laughing. It was all she could do to keep the last of her sanity.
Chapter 13
Inever know how to dress for these things.That’s what Jamie always thought whenever she descended the guarded stairs into Midnight, the city’s dirty, naughty playground for the rich. Some nights it was nothing more than a fancy club and lounge, but most nights – especially weekend nights – it was a den of BDSM revelry, with everything from club-sponsored shows to people being freaky in front of others for the sake of it.
Etta didn’t bring Jamie here very often. Maybe once every three to four months. Not like some of their friends, like Helen and Monique, who went often enough to have drinks named after them.
Jamie knew why Etta didn’t like coming here. Even if one didn’t partake in the exhibitionism, voyeurism was on the table the moment guests walked through the door. If people weren’t up on stage doing everything from spanking to full-blown intercourse, they were having fun on couches, in dark corners by the bathrooms, or right in the middle of the floor – but not in anyone’s way, because that would be rude.
As it was, Etta was not public with her kinks. Oh, people knew about them, especially if they came to the club often enough, but she preferred to keep that to the bedroom or office. Etta would never get up on thatstage. Not because she was shy or afraid, but because that wasn’t the type of woman – the type of Domme – she was.Just as well. I don’t want people watching me have sex.It was bad enough that some of them had heard her having sex before. Jamie didn’t have an exhibitionist bone in her body. Not like some of the couples making out by the time she emerged from the coat check and followed her girlfriend into the main room.
“Do I look okay?” she whispered, taking Etta’s hand as they weaved between tables.
Etta looked her up and down before focusing back on the dark club. “You’re gorgeous.”
Jamie tripped over her heels. “Really?” She didn’t wear anything special. A dark blue Queen Anne dress and some pieces of understated jewelry. Her hand clenched in Etta’s.Is she just saying that?Sometimes it was hard to tell what came from Etta the girlfriend and Etta the businesswoman who knew how to keep things smooth.
True to her word, Monique had saved them two seats at a table next to the front stage, currently cordoned off while a staff person moved things from here to there and coiled ropes, leather strips, and silk scarves in separate piles.
“Good evening,” Mrs. Warner greeted, nursing a Shirley Temple. Etta ordered herself a bourbon and Jamie a cosmo before pulling out her chair. While Jamie sat and scooted in next to Monique, the woman continued, “Hope you don’t mind. We’re a bit of a big group.”
Jamie looked around the table. Etta exchanged greetings with everyone else there, from Lara and Kennedy Anderssen to Jem Merange and girlfriend Gwenyth. Rounding out the table were Kathleen and her partner Ira Mathison, who smiled at Jamie from across the table.
“You look lovely,” they said, just loud enough for her to hear. Beside them, Kathleen complained about something to Lara, who was not so covertly ignoring the vape trail coming from her wife’s electronic cigarette. “Blue is a good color on you.” Ira winked. Jamie blushed, looking the other way before someone could accuse her of mental infidelity.
Etta cleared her throat and put a strong hand on Jamie’s knee that peeked out from the hem of her skirt. “Watch out for players, my dear,” she growled in Jamie’s ear.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Her hand tightened. “Don’t make me go over there.”
Jamie suppressed the first true grin of the week. “Maybe I would like to see that.”
