Page 3

Vivian

The minute I locked eyes with the masked, sandy blond stranger from across the bar, I felt both intrigued and intimidated.

After I raised my champagne flute in response to his silent toast, he started toward me.

His tuxedo hugged his broad shoulders and lean body, the black fabric catching the low lights of the club. He moved with the grace of a panther stalking its prey, and I had to will myself not to run.

Up close, his blue eyes beneath the black domino mask were sharp and knowing, as if he could see straight through me and tell I didn’t belong.

But as we talked, I caught a twinkle of mischief in his baby blues. That hint of playfulness put me at ease, like maybe he didn’t mind that I didn’t quite fit in.

I felt such an attraction to him that I almost took his hand anyway after Kit shook her head.

As I watched him walk away, I had an urge to run after him until my friend’s voice stopped me. “Honey, I know you’re disappointed, but Dr. Connolly’s reputation is even worse than DeLuca’s.”

“How so?”

“He has a cruel streak.”

“Oh.” I glanced in the direction he had just disappeared. “Really? I didn’t get that vibe from him.”

“I mean, I don’t have firsthand knowledge, but I’ve heard some of the more ‘seasoned’ female members caution newer women about him. But his good looks and charm make them throw caution to the wind, and they usually end up crying over him in the bathroom.”

That didn’t necessarily mean he was cruel .

“So, he comes here a lot.”

“Well, yeah. You don’t spend the kind of money it costs to be a member here and not come.” She grinned at me. “In both senses of the word.”

I don’t know why the idea of him being here a lot bothered me as much as it did. I had no room to judge. Two nights and two afternoons a week, I paraded around in nothing but a G-string, pasties, and four-inch heels for a living, grinding on men’s laps until they came in their pants.

Kit signaled to the bartender for another round, and when we got our fresh glasses, she suggested, “Wanna go walk around?”

****

Jeff

The chick currently in my lap wore a grey bracelet to signify free use and/or consensual nonconsent. Some forceful sex might help me take my mind off the little Phoenix who’d turned me down.

Grey Bracelet’s mouth tasted sweet, like the champagne we’d been drinking, along with a hint of vanilla from her red lipstick that I was sure was all over my face.

Hopefully, it’d be all over my dick, too, before it was completely smeared off her mouth.

I’d had a kink about that ever since my first lipstick party with the pledges of my fraternity’s sister sorority. The more dicks they sucked, the better their chances of getting in.

Completely unethical, yeah, and I hadn’t given a shit.

I still didn’t.

Ethics were for poor people who couldn’t buy their way out of trouble.

Let me stop you right there before you decide what an asshole I am.

Okay, no, I am an asshole—you’re right about that, at least when it comes to women.

But I do have some ethics. Like when it comes to my job, I’m aboveboard, one hundred percent of the time.

Hell, I even have compassion for my patients.

And I do care about other people, for the most part.

I know how to be a functioning member of a civilized society.

I even fucking recycle, for chrissake.

But, ever since college when I’d discovered that most women, or at least the sorority sluts I hung around with, were more interested in money than what kind of person you are, my morality meter broke. If it was technically legal and I thought I could get away with it, I did it.

Fucking my date’s sorority sister in the ass in a dark corner of the frat house while my date stood in line to go to the bathroom at a party?

Yep, I did that. Fingering my frat brother’s girlfriend then coming down her throat as he watched a football game in the next room while she “gave me a haircut”?

Check. Making amends to said frat brother after his girlfriend confessed our tryst by blackmailing Judith Walker, our smoking hot BioChem professor with photos of me balls deep inside her so she’d give him a passing grade in her class? Check check.

I’m a bastard.

One thing though that I would never do is tell a girl I love her or lead her to believe there was a future with me. Every chick I’d been with knew she was nothing special, although I suspected they all believed they’d be the one to change me.

Sure, I’d thought about settling down. Maybe having a kid or two.

I’d even tried dating “nice girls”. Ones I could see taking home to meet the parents.

But my deviant desires usually brought things to an end pretty quickly, sending me back to the women who could fulfill my dark desires but not have a future with.

Thank god I found Velvet Underground not long after landing my job at the VA in San Diego. I knew frequenting prostitutes—even high-end ones, was going to land me in jail one day. Then I’d lose my job, and I loved my job.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flash of white.

Breaking the kiss, I noticed Phoenix talking to Tyler Stevens.

His dad had been one of the OGs in Silicon Valley and left his billions to his four kids.

The three oldest were from his first wife and had been groomed to take over the company.

But Tyler’s mom was Stevens’ much younger trophy wife, so he grew up differently than his siblings.

Pretty much the only thing the little prick was equipped to do was live off his trust fund.

His days consisted of golfing or surfing and his nights were spent partying.

I had no problem with trust fund kids, hell, I was one of them. But at least do something with your life, man.

The dude’s hand came around Phoenix’s back and roved to her ass.

Seriously?

She was going to hook up with him instead of me?

While she was technically talking to Tyler, I noticed her attention drifted my way more often than it should.

Good.

Holding Phoenix’s gaze, I spun Grey Bracelet around in my lap so she faced the room, then spread her legs and lifted her dress.

I traced an index finger down the seam of her pussy and chuckled in her ear, “You naughty slut. You’re not wearing any panties.

Everyone in the room can see your wet cunt. ”

Grey Bracelet moaned, but I wasn’t looking at her. I was still watching Phoenix for her reaction.

She stilled. Her smile didn’t slip, not exactly. But something shifted. A flicker in her eyes.

There it was. That crack.

“You should probably punish me,” Grey Bracelet whispered, squirming on my lap.

“Yeah, baby. I probably should,” I replied, not breaking eye contact with the one who mattered.

I let my fingers trail up higher, spreading her wider, making sure Phoenix could see exactly what she’d turned down.

And then I smiled.

Right at her.

The kind of smile that said I hope this fucking hurts.

Phoenix’s lips parted, and her brows dipped briefly. Most people would’ve missed it.

I didn’t.

The little shift in her expression, the stiff set of her shoulders. Like she was trying not to care.

But she cared.

She fucking cared.

That flash of something—disappointment, maybe even jealousy—was all I needed.

I tapped Grey Bracelet’s thigh. “Get up,” I murmured. “Let’s go finish this elsewhere where I can properly punish you.”

She got up, eager and oblivious, but I wasn’t thinking about her.

I was thinking about the girl in white, trying to pretend she wasn’t watching me walk away with another woman.

Pretending it didn’t bother her.

But it did.

And we both knew it.

That made me feel lighter as Grey Bracelet’s heels clacked down the hall.

Maybe I’d only hurt her a little now.

****

Vivian

Even though I wanted to, I didn’t leave after he walked away

Not that he noticed. He was already halfway across the room with Grey Bracelet Girl and her long legs, red lipstick, and no panties.

I shouldn’t have cared. Hell, I’d barely met him. I didn’t know his first name, or if I even liked him.

But I kept replaying the way he’d looked at me. The way his lips had brushed my wrist and sent shivers down my spine. The way my body had leaned in like it already knew what he could do.

Now he was giving that to someone else, without hesitation.

I couldn’t be mad he was hooking up with someone else—that’s what this party was all about. Besides, I was the one who’d said no.

But the way he took the rejection like it didn’t matter, like I was just one more pretty girl in a mask… that had stung my pride a little.

I decided I came here to get laid, and I wasn’t leaving until it happened.

I let the frat bro in the blue half-mask hover for one more drink, but Kit didn’t need to give me the no signal for that guy.

The minute he told me, “This place is full of women trying too hard. I figured I’d give the understated ones a shot tonight,” I’d given him a “fuck you” smile and headed back to the bar without so much as a “Later, loser.”

That’s where the man in the silver mask approached me. He was tall, dark, and confident without projecting arrogance. He didn’t leer or posture, just stood there, calm and quiet, waiting for me to speak first. As if he knew better than to move too fast.

Kit noticed him next to me and gave a subtle nod.

I’d been waiting all night for her nod. For a while, I thought it would never come. But finally, there it was.

I felt a mix of relief, and something else. Regret maybe. Like maybe it’d come too late.

But I had it now. That’s what mattered.

So, when Silver Mask offered to buy me a drink, I said yes. And yes to another.

Not necessarily because I wanted him . But because he looked at me like it was worth the effort to pursue me. And I needed to feel that; I needed to feel wanted.

It wasn’t fair to be disappointed that Dr. Connolly walked away when I was the one who’d said no. But part of me still wished he would’ve tried harder. Like I’d mattered enough to be chased.

Instead, he looked me in the eye while he touched someone else. That wasn’t just walking away. That was a middle finger. Message received—loud and clear.

I didn’t ask for Silver Mask’s name, per the club’s rules, and after a few drinks, we ended up in one of the private rooms with the gold velvet curtains drawn.

I got on top and took what I needed, coming just before he did.

He groaned when he came, with his hands gripping my hips. It was controlling and hot, but nothing like I imagined the good doctor would have been.

Nothing like how I thought he would have made me feel.

I slid off Silver Mask before he caught his breath, pulled my dress down, and left without a word.

I walked through my apartment door feeling unsatisfied, like I’d ordered the wrong thing off the menu and tried to convince myself it hit the spot.

It hadn’t. But it’d have to do.

At least I got an orgasm, I suppose.