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My brows nearly shoot off my face as Lara plants a big one on the young woman’s lips. It’s apparently not a surprise to her, however, for she’s practically sinking into Lara’s embrace and acting like she’s never been kissed better in her life.

Lara is either that good or she’s paying this girl enough money to act that way.

“I must concede that it’s quite the kiss,” Ira says, holding up her glass in mock toast. “I could never hope to kiss my mistress like that.”

Everyone’s so tipsy – or acting tipsy to keep the party going – that we all laugh at the stupid joke. Of course, Ira, you silly! Of course, you couldn’t kiss your mistress like that, Ira! You ain’t even married!

I know I’m well past tipsy with a thought like that. Even so, I snuggle against Ira’s chest and throw a leg over her lap, the hem of my skirt riding up until my ass is practically hanging out on the couch. Nobody mentions it.

Have you ever been in a room with a bunch of rich perverts? Who are trying to out-pervert each other? It’s only a matter of time before we’re swapping kinky stories with everyone, from that time I kept a girl on edge for a total of two hours to Lara claiming she’d been in a butch lesbian gangbang back in college. Kid stuff! I don’t have the gall to upstage her, though.

“I’m forever sad that I was not there,” Kennedy says.

“You know…” June joins them on their couch, hand lightly touching Lara on the chest. “There are other ways to recreate a night like that.” She looks around the room, grinning. “I see two mascs in here as it is.”

Ira tenses beneath my touch. Her internal screaming is deafening.

“Two mascs and four femmes.” The woman she’s leaving out must be Monique, who has remained quiet in her chair this whole time. “That’s six instead of five. You know we have ways to make it feel like it’s all one or the other.” June looks at the whole group with a wink.

“I have a better idea,” Ira says low enough for only me to hear. “Let’s get some privacy.”

Ira is speaking my language. I’ve spent the past fifteen minutes thinking of nothing but putting my hand between her legs and taunting her until she has no choice but to pin me down on this couch until we’ve both come a hundred times. Except, you know, people.

“What would we do with privacy, Ms. Mathison?” My arms are not leaving her torso. It’s taking everything I’ve got to not kiss her again.

“Why, we would fuck, Ms. Allen.”

It’s at this time I must excuse myself to use the ladies’ room. I ask our dear hostess Monique where the privy can be found, and after she’s done pointing it out, Ira puts a hand on my wrist and brings me back in for more conspiracy.

“Pick one.” She gestures to the two freelancing women trying to get the Anderssens to go with a damned gangbang. “We need to use one of their rooms, which means we need a key, which means I’ve gotta pay one of them for it. So, who do you want to get paid?”

I study Chelsea and June, two women with very different games. June has a dominant personality. Then there’s Chelsea, who is more submissive but as plotting as she whispers so much shit into people’s ears that I don’t doubt she’s getting a ton of tips tonight.

It’s a hard choice. They’re both attractive. They’re both professionals. There is one glaring difference.

Ira has fucked one of them. Probably Topped her. Fairly recently.

I don’t think so.

“That one.” I nod toward June, currently shoving Grace out of the way and taking up room in Lara’s lap. “I like her personality and style. I bet her room is nice for… occupying.”

Ira squeezes my thigh and sucks gently on my throat. God. She better hurry up and get us that room, otherwise, I’m dragging her to the bathroom to fuck me on the sink.

I might do that anyway!

“Go to the bathroom, lovely,” she purrs, gently shoving me off the couch. “Everything will be arranged by the time you get back. Shit works fast here.”

The gaze I catch from Monique is telling. She definitely agrees with Ira. Works fast, yup.

At the end of the day this place is a business. We understand businesses.

I go to the damned bathroom and do some different kinds of business. I’ve drank a bit tonight. I’m not drunk. Far from it. Yet my inhibitions are definitely on a different planet, and I stumble in my heels as I go from the sink to the bathroom door.

The lounge is empty by the time I get back. How the hell? I was gone for ten minutes, max, but the Anderssens and their mistress – and Chelsea – are absent, leaving only Monique, June, and Ira sitting on a couch together. Something passes between Ira and Monique’s hands. Once I realize it’s a wad of cash, Monique pockets it in a slit in her dress. June is not perturbed.

“Ms. Allen,” Monique says, passing me in the doorway. She’s so petite that I practically dwarf her in my heels. “Everything has been arranged. Have a good night.”

Well, that’s not ideal, her being open with her knowledge like that, but I’m not going to let it bother me. I join Ira and June, both of whom are silent until my arrival.