Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 90887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
“He doesn’t want to give you any kind of insight that could improve your chances of winning the game,” Kyla says, tucking her gently curled lock of hair behind her ear. Her fingers drift over the long earring she’s wearing, a seductive move that I don’t think is deliberate. Kyla doesn’t seem to have any idea just how alluring she is.
“And what about you? Will you give me an insight?”
“Will I give you an advantage? No. You gotta do your best, Kase. Isn’t that what your momma always told you, because my momma sure did?”
“My momma didn’t tell me shit about doing my best at sex stuff, Kyla. What kind of momma have you got?”
She snorts with laughter, reaching out to take the pale cream cocktail that the barman rested on the marble countertop. “Not about sex stuff. About life in general.”
“Well, I’m all about doing my best. I think you’re going to like my best a lot.”
“I guess we’ll have to wait and see about that.”
“Did you stay over at Lex’s?”
She nods, taking a long sip of her cocktail. Around us, the music changes from something with a fast beat to something more soulful. People begin to make their way to the dancefloor, leaving the space around it feeling less congested.
There’s something so opulent about Club Crystal. Maybe it’s the muted purples shades or the huge chandeliers, or maybe the walnut bar. Or it could be the clientele. Everyone here dresses to impress. There’s also the other part of the club that makes it more decadent than any of the others in the city.
The upper balcony, which extends over the dancefloor, is made mostly of glass. The balustrade and the floor are transparent. It’s not a spoken or promoted thing, but couples who have an exhibition kink can often be seen up there, indulging in whatever brings them the most pleasure. Kyla doesn’t know it yet, but that’s why I bought her here. That’s why I made the no underwear rule.
I lean in close, wanting to breathe in Kyla’s scent and whisper into her ear. Some things have to be spoken that way to have maximum impact.
“Have you ever had sex in public?” I ask her.
“No,” she says, but it’s not delivered in a forceful way. Kyla’s voice is breathy and aroused, exactly as I was hoping.
There’s no fun in coercing someone to do something so far outside of their barriers that it makes them uncomfortable. Encouraging someone to do something that they’d previously been too shy to try but are eager to experience is something totally different.
“Will you come upstairs with me, Kyla?” I raise my head to glance up to the balcony. There’s already one couple up there kissing. Kyla turns to follow my gaze, her eyes widening as she realizes the intention behind my question.
She blows a long, soft breath between pursed lips as though she’s trying to physically push the nerves from her body. Her eyes search mine, seeking reassurance, I guess. This isn’t simply about us taking a new kinky step in an established relationship. This is about her trusting me enough to have sex with me for the first time and do it in front of other people. It’s a leap into the darkness, so I get why she might be uncertain. When she doesn’t immediately respond, I bend to press a soft kiss on her lips, my heart thudding when we touch that way for the first time. “If you don’t want to, we can go somewhere else, or I can take you home. You know there’s no pressure for you to go ahead with any of the dates. This is all on your terms.”
She blinks, glancing again at the couple on the balcony and then lower at the people whose heads are angled to the sky. Taking everything in, she straightens her shoulders, resolve forming and changing her posture. “I’m here to play the game,” she says with a determination that comes as a surprise, and her hand slides into mine as though she still needs my encouragement to go ahead. Hell, that small gesture causes something in my chest to constrict. There’s a vulnerability about Kyla but also an internal strength that I’m not sure she even recognizes in herself. As she blinks, her long lashes cast shadows over her high cheekbones, and I get an urge to press a soft kiss to the tender skin there.
She’s like an unopened gift, wrapped up pretty, but what’s underneath is even more tantalizing.
“Let’s go,” I say. We carry our drinks up the stairs. I allow Kyla to walk first, conscious that she’s not wearing any underwear and might be grateful for my body as a barrier to prying eyes. Her dress is long enough that I don’t get to see more than her sexy curvy thighs brushing together with each step. At the top, she looks around, finding three couples in various stages of passion. There’s just one at the edge of the balcony, on the far side. The two other couples are sprawled over the plush purple velvet couches.