I know I shouldn’t feel like this. We haven’t had a conversation or anything about what we are. And going to a sex club where he’s been seen seems an awful lot like self-sabotage. But the way Harper is looking at me tells me she needs this. And I could do with being put outside of my comfort zone for a night.
“Let’s do it,” I say firmly, but I regret the words as soon as they leave my lips.
“Great!” she squeals. “We’re going after work, wear something sexy.”
My ribs tighten. Am I really prepared to see what Elias isreallyup to? I know I’m not ready to be on display. My mind jumps to the worst possibilities. Strangers watching, judging. Eyes everywhere. Hands reaching. Bodies too close. My skin prickles at the thought. I’m not ready to be seen by people who will look at my body like it’s an invitation.
Harper doesn’t notice the way my fingernails bite into my palm. Or if she does, she chooses not to push. Because Harper knows me well enough to understand one thing. If I’ve agreed to go somewhere like that, something must be wrong.
Maybe it is.
Right now, I’m not thinking about Harper’s words—I’m thinking about Elias. About the way he looked at me the last time we were together, like I was the only woman in the world. If he looks at everyone like that, then I was never special at all. And somehow that hurts more than anything.
Twenty-Six
Kat
Closer – Nine Inch Nails
Iimmediately regret my lack of jacket as I step out of the cab with Harper. A shiver works its way up my bones. The cold air slices straight through the thin fabric of my outfit, raising goosebumps along my arms and thighs. I stood in front of the mirror for no less than two hours trying on almost every item of clothing I own before settling on tonight’s outfit. I don’t look as hot as Harper, but I don’t feel horrendous either—which is definitely a small win tonight.
I’m wearing a black leather corset that cinches my waist, giving me my dream hourglass figure. Hugging my hips is a black lace miniskirt, which sits just above my stockings. Leather and lace, my perfect combination. Harper looks jaw-dropping—literally. Heads have been turning ever since we stepped out of the cab. She’s wearing a tiny PVC minidress, her shiny new purple-dyed hair tied up in a high ponytail that’s so tight it looks like it’s giving her a minor facelift.
I push down the inferior feeling creeping into focus as we walk, arm in arm, to the front door.My breath fogs faintly in front of me as I step away from the cab, the city buzzing like static around us.
NINE doesn’t look like much from the outside: just a dark brick building tucked between two equally anonymousstorefronts. If you didn’t know what it was, you’d probably walk straight past it, but the line of people queuing in the bitter cold to get in tells a different story.
Harper heads straight to the front, earning us a few disgruntled stares, and gives the attendant her name.
“IDs?” he asks with a lazy drawl.
We both reach into our bags and produce what he’s asking for. Harper gives him a subtle eyelash flutter as he scans her ID. We slide the exact entrance fee across the counter.
“Read these and sign at the bottom,” he tells us, producing two sheets of paper titled “Rules and Regulations.” The paper is thicker than normal paper, almost like a contract. Which, I guess, it kind of is.
I take my time and read the paper fully. It’s two pages long, full of various rules and sex club etiquette. The two major rules that stick with me are the two-drink limit and the hard and fast rule of no sex outside of the designated areas.
How am I going to get through tonight without being drunk?
I sign my name on the dotted line at the same time as Harper. The attendant looks at us as if he’s assessing us before sealing a plastic wristband around our wrists and stepping aside.
“I’m so excited!” Harper shrieks, gently jumping up and down as we enter through the huge double doors.
The sound hits me first. Low bass vibrates through the floor beneath my heels, pulsing through my body like a heartbeat. Then the smell. Expensive perfume and a very slight hint of alcohol and sweat.
A large, unlit chandelier hangs imposingly above the entrance, while red LED lights illuminate the large room.There’s a dance floor off to the right where bodies move sensually together. To the side of the dancefloor, the wall is lined with high-back leather couches.
Couples—and some groups with more than two—sit together, laughing and having a good time. I don’t know what I was expecting, maybe orgies all over the dancefloor or people up on stage taking part in sex acts. Or possibly just nudity. But I wasn’t expectingthis.I wasn’t expecting it to look and feel like a normal club—if it weren’t for the waiver you sign before entering, it would be easy to mistake this place for a regular bar.
I pull my eyes away from the bodies writhing on the dancefloor and spot the bar off to the left with a few stools in front of it. I spot two empty seats at the far end.
“Come on.” I grab Harper’s arm and pull her towards them.
Harper orders a mojito, and I order a Jack and Coke. If I can have only two drinks, I’d better make them count. Liquid courage is basically a survival instinct tonight. The bartender grabs our wrists and stamps the wristbands, marking us halfway to our drink limit.
“It’s cool, right?” Harper muses as her eyes roam across the room. I know she’s looking for Nathan.
“It is, we should definitely come here more often,” I say, although the fifty-dollar entrance fee means I absolutely cannot come here more often.
