Page 1 of Caged By the Stranger (Bad Decisions #1)

The doorman grants me entrance after I provide the password. The thump of the music deep inside hugs me as I step into the dimly lit vestibule.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” he greets, the blue overhead light reflecting off his bald head and leather vest.

“Work,” I explain absently, glancing through the open door to my right that leads to the lounge area. My pulse is kicking as usual with the ever-present worry I’ll spot someone I know. I got the card for this place from a guy at a work convention, after all.

The doorman studies my ID intently and then levels me with a suspicious stare that I can’t decide whether it’s meant to intimidate or is genuinely scrutinizing. How frequently does someone have to come here to be deemed trustworthy? Who has that kind of time or…need?

“Lots of work,” I insist, clearing my throat when he finally returns my ID.

I’ve never had an actual conversation with him. I shouldn’t have to. He’s here just to monitor admittance, not chat people up who come here for discretion.

His twinkling eyes canvass me from head to toe curiously. I don’t like his unabashed eye contact or his smug smirk. I come here for no eye contact, not to be examined, although I suspect he’s just being ‘friendly.’

“Room three is ready.” He gestures with his head to the closed door to the right. “New one tonight. It’ll be just a minute, but you can go on back.”

Watching his beefy hand pick up the receiver of a red landline phone, my heart skips a beat. I know it means he’s calling for whoever will meet me in room three. It’s oddly fascinating that the mere push of a button can summon someone for carnal pleasures.

Swallowing back the lump of excitement in my throat, I nod and push through the door with my sweaty hand. It’s only my third time here. I talked myself out of coming a dozen times after Rory, that odd sales manager from the Seattle convention, slipped me a business card to Illusion this fall.

I fucking panicked that he caught me staring at a guy in the middle of the after-dinner mixer, brushing off his implication. The balls on that guy. I didn’t think I was that obvious.

In the grand scheme of things, I don’t give a shit what anyone from the company would think about my sexual preferences.

I have neither the time nor the desire to pursue anything.

I’m not a relationship guy. Something about getting to know someone on a personal level has never enticed me.

Maybe that means something is wrong with me, but why fix what I don’t feel is broken?

I like myself the way I am. I just…needed more.

Edging my way down the hallway past the first two rooms, my pulse quickens as I near door number three.

It’s comforting that they give me the same room each time.

It makes me feel…normal. Like I belong here.

Like nothing is wrong with me. When I realized what kind of establishment was on the business card he slipped me, I remember I scoffed at Rory as if to say, you’ve got me all wrong .

He just waltzed away with a knowing smirk, though, leaving me with that hot penny in my hand and no way to refute his assumption.

Never thought I’d be so glad I didn’t discard it like I had planned to.

Wiping my hand on my khakis, I reach for the doorknob, appreciating how even my skin looks blue underneath the light. I blend in with my surroundings—my peach flesh not contrasting with the black tufted wall panels. Whoever designed this place thought of everything.

You need this, Charlie , I remind myself at my moment of hesitation. Is it really hesitation, though?

It’s taking everything in me to hold back from bursting into the room at the prospect of a new man behind the partition. A new mouth. New tactics of oral pleasure. The blissful release of all my stress without any complications. I can’t fucking wait. The unknown is my weakness.

Pushing through the door, I step inside the little room, where I’m treated to the same soft glow of blue light as in the hallway, but much dimmer. More shadows. More intimate. Just the way I like it.

When my eyes adjust, I immediately identify the opening of my choice—the perfect height for my stature.

I was apprehensive at first about how big the portals are.

I always imagined they’d be just big enough to stick a cock through, but my wariness fell to the wayside upon my first visit.

No one reached through the space that’s large enough for a hand to fit.

The large diameter of the opening afforded me the opportunity to feel whiskers and hot breath, heightening the experience.

Sliding the small round door up over the opening, I exhale and undo my fly with shaky fingers, waiting for my night’s partner. I’m already half hard from the anticipation.

‘Someone new , ’ the doorman said. Does that mean I had the same person for my first two visits?

I could be wrong, but I thought the technique and feel of their mouth was different each time. Perhaps he meant someone new to Illusion. I didn’t come here for someone as nervous as I was on my first visit. I’ll be sorely disappointed if it’s someone too skittish to put their full effort into it.

The soft click of a door closing on the other side of the thin, tufted wall panel sets my ears to attention. He’s here.

It’s strange what you can sense just from spatial recognition.

The soft approach of footsteps. The presence of a body kneeling before the other side of the opening.

The proximity of another human being just on the other side of this half-inch-thick paneling.

It’s rigid, clearly reinforced by something inside, not giving way when I reach up and rest a hand on it above my head.

Breath in my throat, I feel a shiver at the presence of warm breath on the other side of the opening. He’s ready. That’s my cue.

Leaning my hips forward, I guide my tip through the opening and into the unknown. I nearly couldn’t do it the first time, too afraid something would chop my dick off or bite it, but now I revel in the thrill of the eerie sensation of terror. It seems to add to the experience.

I wait. And I wait, but nothing happens.

He’s there. I can tell. I can feel his breath on my tip.

Does he not like what he sees? It’s difficult to see much in these darkened rooms. Did he change his mind? Is he a nervous newbie?

My disappointment flares. I’ve waited for this for three weeks, having been stuck on the road, traveling for work for nearly the past month. And now, I’m going to be left high and dry?

A gust of hot breath floods over my tip like a heady exhale, making me shudder. And then I feel it—a mouth. But he doesn’t take me in. His lips aren’t even parted. Fingertips alight on the side of my cock, making me flinch.

No one here has ever touched me with anything other than their mouth before. Granted, I knew the holes were large enough that someone could, but I suspected it was just for the illusion that it was possible, hence the name of the club.

He doesn’t grab me, though, but rather just holds me in place as his closed mouth slides across my tip. I can feel moisture, but it’s not from him. His lips are closed. My precum glides along the seam of his mouth, slowly, from end to end until I reach the other side of his… smile. He’s smiling.

My heart kicks like a mule in my chest from the jolt that gives me all the way from my nuts. I hear a soft sound, almost like a sigh of delight. And then…his cheek brushes against my length.

It’s the most surreal sensation I’ve ever felt.

Part of me wants to shout, asking him when he’s going to get to it.

I don’t come here for foreplay. I didn’t fist and blow my way in the dark throughout college with the guy down the hall for foreplay.

We did it because we both just wanted to get off discreetly in our hetero-filled frat house.

This is the closest thing to that convenient accommodation that I’ve found since then.

I don’t like how the overwhelming swirl of my stomach makes me feel from this…

exploration. Maybe I’m hearing things, but I swear the word, Perfect ,’ is whispered through the opening just before warm heat envelops my tip, making me feel dizzy.

Fuuuck.

It’s the barest of touches, like someone slowly slurping the drippage from an ice cream cone, but it’s nirvana.

The peculiar smile-basting hello he gave me makes sense now.

The man behind the wall definitely knows what he’s doing, teasing my senses to fatten me up for the big climax.

Something tells me I’m in for the ride of my life, and we’ve barely started.

The next thing I know, I’m engulfed in a deluge of warm heat all the way to my groin. It steals my breath and has me pressing my pelvis flush against the wall to give him everything he so eagerly took.

On my last two visits, I got a few introductory licks.

The kind you give to lubricate for smooth sailing, and then the guys went to town.

I definitely enjoyed myself. I came in no time, but now I can see how mechanical it all was.

The fast-mouth fucking, like each guy had something to prove by how quick he could get a stranger off.

Either that or they were just eager to give a blow job.

As my cock vibrates near the back of Mystery Man Number Three’s throat, I can tell he’s eager too, but not in the same way as the others. He’s…all in. Holy hell, is he all in. And I definitely am too, realizing those vibrations were caused by a low, sultry groan around my cock.