I want to hold you forever
And breathe you into me
The room is silent for a long, drawn-out minute after the last notes of the song die off. I wonder momentarily what my face must look like as I watch him, because Will looks almost afraid of my reaction. But I’m speechless.
There’s nothing I could say that my mouth couldn’t say better with a kiss, so I take the guitar from him, climb into his lap, and press my lips to his. It’s a long, deep kiss that has my entirebody prickling with heat. I’m almost too overwhelmed by it to remember his gift, although it feels silly in comparison to his.
When I finally pry myself away from him, I retrieve the overstuffed envelope and hand it to him. Will looks up at me with a crooked grin, his cheeks still flushed from our impromptu make-out session.
He holds the envelope in his lap for a moment before running his finger under the seal and opening the top flap. Inside is an embossed invitation, a dark blue satin mask, and a familiar silver key, this time with a blue ribbon tied to the end.
His eyebrows lift. “An invitation to the club?”
“So, I cheated a little… but technically, the club isn’t the gift. It’s where the gift is.”
Will looks a little uncomfortable but sheepishly brings up the obvious. “Is it safe or smart to be going to sex clubs together right now?” It wasn’t something we’d ever worried about before, but the circumstances and the consequences are different now. There is more at risk.
“We aren’t going to the club. I brought the club to us,” I say, and tap the invitation. “Read the card, and I’ll see you soon.”
Will makes a confused sound, then watches me walk out of the living room. I go into the bedroom we share and close and lock the door behind me before frantically running around to get everything ready. When I run into the bathroom to get myself ready, I can hear the water running on the other side of the wall and grin to myself. It’s a little cheesy, but my heart is still beating overtime. After his gift, and those lyrics, I don’t feel nervous about how this is going to go. I’m just really excited.
THIRTY-THREE
WILL
Ari gives me a flirty grin and winks before he hops up and hurries out of the living room. I hear the door to our room shut, followed by the lock turning.
What the hell?
Pulling the invitation out of the envelope, I read the text:
Meet me in The Blue Room and make your choice.
The Blue Room? The club we’ve only been to once has themed rooms that are for special invitation only. There’s a red room that has a bondage theme, a green room that’s set up like a movie set with a working camera and screen to watch yourself, a wet room that’s essentially a sauna, and a few others that I can’t remember. There were also a few color-themed rooms that were simply private rooms where you could pay to host up to five people away from the rest of the club.
I look down at the key again, with the blue ribbon, and finger the silky satin of the blue mask. I don’t remember what the blueroom was for exactly, but I’m assuming it’s one of the private rooms.
On the back of the invitation, there’s another note:
Your outfit is waiting for you in the second bedroom.
With a shrug, I get up and head to the second bedroom. On the bed, Ari has laid out a set of silk pajamas, the dark blue color and silky fabric match the mask perfectly.
I have a little extra time, so I pop into the bathroom to shower, doing my best to ignore my raging hard on. It’s clear that Ari wants to play, and since going to the club isn’t an option right now, he wants to do it here. I’m ridiculously excited.Tooexcited.
Then, as if the water had suddenly run cold, I’m hit with an intense clarity. How the fuck didn’t I catch it right away.
Make your choice.
Shit.I was so stuck on figuring out the stupid theme to notice the whole fucking point.
Back in Seattle, I told him I was working on honesty and courage, that I had a lot of groveling to do before my next stage. When he asked, I told him I wanted to earn another chance to make the right choice.
The club setting isn’t about playing in an environment that we used to frequent, he’s giving me another chance. The last time we visited a club, I did something stupid. It wasn’t engaging with Ari at the club, or admitting that he turned me on like I thought back then. The stupid thing was backtracking and pretending like it never happened.
Make your choice.
Fuck yes, I’m going to make my choice. I’m going to make the right fucking choice. I’m going to choose him. And I’m going to show him that I’ll always choose him from now on.
