Page 6

This is not what I imagine when I hear the words “sex club”. I think of neon lights and strippers. People could be found in compromising positions, copulating everywhere.

Nowhere is not what I expect. I expected raunchy, loud, incense burning, the smell of sex and moans and groans. Hedonism! Instead, we are driving up a long driveway, in the distance I can see a multiple level building with extensive glass walls. Why does a sex club have so many glass windows? The building has a sleek architectural design. The greenery surrounding the building and the forested areas gives the illusion of a secluded private sanctuary. The building interior lighting gives off a warm inviting glow. It’s both sophisticated and elegant. No one will ever think of it as a sex club. It’s a perfect representation of hiding in plain sight.

Tarek stops the car and slips out, passing the key to someone, he runs round the front of the car and opens the car door.

I’m amazed at the sheer size of the building. Placing my hand in his, I gracefully step out.

“Wasn’t what you expected?”

I shake my head. “No, this looks like a beautiful refuge.”

“Trust me, it’s a refuge for many.”

We walk up some beautiful grey marble stairs we are greeted by one large door. It looks like it takes two men to open it. The surrounding area is quiet and still. Tarek places his palm on a black panel at the side of the door. A green light flashes under it and we both step back as the door like magic begins to open.

“Welcome to Nowhere,” he says. The door opens, revealing a warmly lit foyer with large green potted palms in the corners. I see some people sitting on several brown leather chairs, chatting, drinking. No sex. What kind of sex club was this?

Where are the people having sex on mattresses thrown across the floor? Where was the sex swing? The chains, the whips? The soft sound of a piano plays throughout the room.

“This is not what I expected. Is that Mozart that I’m hearing?” I ask.

A waitress places drinks on a coffee table in front of a couple that were looking into each other’s eyes.

“This is lame. Why is it so peaceful out here?” I huff.

Tarek snickers to the side of me.

“Walk this way.” Tarek places his hand on my lower back and ushers me to two doors that automatically open.

The air around me shifts, I can feel a vibration in the floor. Was there a party somewhere? The door behind us shuts.

We step into a dark room, where a single light shines down on a pretty Asian girl with jet black hair with glasses sitting behind a glass desk.

“Good day, Mr. Fairisles. Would your guest require a tour guide?” She opens the drawer taking a black bag pointing it at me.

“What’s that for?” I ask.

“Your phone, ma’am.”

Instantly, I look at Tarek. “I’m not giving my phone to anyone.”

As if sensing my stress, Tarek takes the bag from his employee. “She is here as my guest. Her phone is allowed.”

“Will she be needing a tour, Mr. Fairisles? Lystra is available,” the receptionist asks.

“No, I will be her guide,” Tarek replies calmly.

Before she could ask another question, both Tarek and I pass through a metal detector. It goes off, but Tarek grabs my hand and brings my attention to him.

We are standing in the dark, with low lit ceiling lights above us.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.” It can only go up from here.

Tarek moves a black curtain to the side and pushes the door open. My senses were not ready. The air feels hot and stuffy, I can feel the bass drums thumping in my chest.

The strobe lights, flickers between bodies that are dancing, in a what looks like an arena. There are cages perched on large columns with women dancing naked in them. A bar to the left of me had people sitting drinking, enjoying the rush of rock music, which was pouring out of the speakers.

I squint, finding bodies on the stage in all sorts of sexual acts, the strobe light making them look like they are thrashing about. My god! The scent of sweat, and expensive perfume permeates the air. Women and men undulate on the dancefloor, with a slow mist that drops over them. Making their wet bodies gleam with sweat.

“Yes!” someone loud screams pierce the air to my left. With a closer look, I see a woman sitting on the bar with a man feasting between her legs.

It was like a scene from the movie Blade.

A tall man, in a speedo, fairy wing and fish net stocking comes to stand next to me. He winks at me, a slow smile creeps on his face. “Welcome to Nowhere. You new here?” He shouts.

Tarek steps behind me, his presence is unmistakable, on cue the man looks above my head, nods and dances into the crowd. As if sensing my sensory overload, Tarek gently guides me out of the room, through two large old school saloon doors.

As we enter a quiet corridor, we stand in front of an ornated birdcage elevator.

“You good?” Tarek asks, as he bends slight to look at my face.

All I could do is nod. Now I consider myself to be a sexual woman, but there is a huge difference between an orgy on Porn Hub and seeing it live.

“Wow,” that was all I can say.

As the elevator door opens instinctively I step in. Tarek follows and closes the gate.

“Why can’t hear moaning or the sound of sex,” I ask puzzled. Soft jazz music surrounds me, a stark contrast to the lively party we just left.

“Rooms are soundproof. Unless a couple wants an audience, they can leave the door open.”

The elevator stops, Tarek drags the gate open. He, steps out, holding the gate back. We walk down the long corridor with dark red padded walls. The light comes from the erotic painting that hangs above them.

I stop in front of an erotic painting of a beautiful pale Chinese woman, with her dress thrown over her legs as her male counterpart is trying to enter her.

“This is interesting,”

Tarek stops to see what caught my attention. “It’s called Chungongtu. Its traditional erotic Chinese art. This was from the Qing dynasty.”

“Chungongtu. Is it an original?” I ask.

“Why the hell will I have a copy?” Tarek turns and continues to walk down the corridor.

He presses his hand against a panel of a door, again a green light flashes under his hand.

The door shuts and the corridor’s calm follows us into the office. Inside, several large monitors display scenes from around the club. I can’t help but wonder if the patrons realize they are being watched.

But I imagine some of them would get off on the idea.

A cute man, with dark brown skin and glasses stands to talk to Tarek. He looks like he could be a superhero. He appears out of place in this setting. His white shirt stretches over his chest, his thighs are pure muscle under his pants.

He pushes up his glasses as he talks to Tarek, pointing to the screen.

The room has a silent hush with a soft flow of cold air.

I can only see the heads of some people behind their desk. Meanwhile six people sit in front of a mountain of monitors. I dig my feet into the lush green carpet, trying to take it all in. Where certain parts of Nowhere exudes sex. This office is strictly business.

Nowhere is turning out to be surprisingly impressive. It’s like an onion that I’m peeling each layer revealing something new. Just like its owner.

“Penelope this is my IT manager, Wes. Wes this is our new Savior,”

I extend my hand out to Wes to feel a firm handshake. “Nice to meet you.”

“Your work proceeds you. I know what you and your team did with MJ Bank in 2020,” Wes says proudly.

A wide smile spreads across my face, my cheeks burn. It’s a beautiful thing to have your work acknowledged when it normally goes unnoticed.

“I see someone has been doing their research,” I state. Wes’ smile brightens as he picks up three leather bounded folders.

Tarek guides us into a small glass-walled boardroom to the back. As the glass door clicks shut behind us Wes immediately gets down to business.

“A hacker by the name of Ewpeople, sent an email to a member of staff under the guise of a guest wanting information about the club,” Wes states.

“I fired that person. This club is invitation only. All new members go through Lystra down stairs.”

My fingers tap the glass tabletop. “What is he asking for?”

“Five million or he would leak information about the club to the public - including patrons’ details to their workplace, families and so on,” Wes replies.

“Five million? Alone? He is an amateur. No one with that level of information would ask for only five million. What has he done thus far?” The guy has to be dumb, only five million for this treasure trove of information.

“Pastor Joseph information was leaked to his wife and members of his church board.” Wes flicks his tablet, and his screen appears on the white board.

He then pushes the leather-bound folder to both Tarek and me. I open the folder reading what appears to be the dossier of Pastor Joseph.

“There is a red X over his face. Why?” Flipping through the pages doing a quick scan.

“He tried to have sex with a woman without her consent. I had to excommunicate him and compensate the woman.” Tarek says as he shrugs out of his jacket. Throwing it over a chair to the side of him.

“Unfortunately for us she was also one of his ‘disciples’. So, we definitely had to throw him out,” Wes adds.

“So, your pleasure house has rules?”

“Of course it does. Most of our rules are to protect women,” Tarek replies, as he sits making himself comfortable on the chair.

“Rules like what?”

“No touching without consent. Men can only go into an active room with a female escort,” Tareks states.

Wes nods and adds, “No alcohol behind closed doors. Our floors have eagles or people watching, looking out for the safety of our members. Especially our women.”

“So, this pastor was caught, kicked out, and you had to pay the girl money,” I turn the page to a beautiful girl with dark brown hair and green eyes.

“The problem is today we found out that said girl committed suicide. Her name was Fiona Charles,” Wes comments.

“How is this my problem?” Tarek asks nonchalantly, as he flicks through the file.

“Tarek!” I screech and I slap the table.

He ignores my outburst and looks at Wes.

“In her suicide letter she mentions club Nowhere and her assault with Father Joseph.”

* * *

TAREK

It’s all these fucking priests with their insatiable perverted appetite that get businesses like mine in trouble.

“Can we cover that shit up?”

“We could have, but with this leak.” Wes pauses.

I can feel my temper building, but I remain calm.

“Pen, can you find out where the leak is? Also locate this amateur Ewpeople,” I ask watching her brows furrow. After knowing a bit about her, I know she is having an internal battle with her ethics. But fuck ethics I need to fix this now.

“I can find the person’s IP, and I can stop it. Wes, can you get me a laptop, a notepad and a pen. Oh, and a bottle of water please,” she asks.

The sound of the door shuts leaving us alone. I continue flipping through the pages of the file, part of me regrets that I bought her here. It shows her parts of myself that I choose to hide. I can feel Penny’s eyes on me.

“What?”

“Tarek someone died from suicide. How could you just shrug it off?” she asks.

The black fonts on the paper blur and twist into irregular shapes making it hard to focus. The room fades around me and my connection to my surroundings begins to slip away. Dissociation at its best.

Remaining silent was my best option. Why did this shit have to happen now? Now, when I’m getting to know her. Now when I’m feeling…happy. The hum of the air condition fills the room, it’s a contrast to the turmoil that I feel simmering inside.

“Which parent fucked you up?” she asks.

Lifting her gaze to mine I’m comforted by the concern that resonates. Her fingers are laced together, her face is soft but serious.

“We both should die together to see who he loves most,” I hear a small whisper from my past.

“What?” That’s all I could come up with as I try to drag my brain back to this reality.

“You heard me the first time,”

I feel a surge of relief that she didn’t ask me the question again.

God, all I want to do is walk out of here and not dredge up my past. It leaves me feeling vulnerable, exposed and blows open a door for future pain. Yet despite all I find myself saying “My mother, she committed suicide.”

All I can think is please don’t extend your hand to me. Nothing makes my skin crawl more than someone trying to comfort me over my mother’s death.

“I’m sorry that happened,” she replies. Now we wait for her to fawn over me and ask questions. But she didn’t.

Was that it? Was that all she was going to say? She didn’t ask the reason. Nothing?

“You don’t want to know why? Or how?” I find myself asking.

She rubs her arms, and I can see the goose pimples on them. Shit, she’s cold.

Taking my jacket off the chair, I stand, ignoring her No’s, I settle the jacket on her shoulder.

“Thanks.”

Pulling my chair out, I sit quietly with questions buzzing in my head.

“Losing a parent is traumatic. But I believe everyone has the right to share their personal life when they are ready.” She shoves her arms into my jacket sleeves. “If you didn’t tell me the reason ‘why’ right away, it means you don’t want to and you’re not ready. I can respect that.”

She’s amazing. I feel like the walls that I built around talking about my mom’s death have crumbled a little.

“Hey, Penelope, maybe after this?—”

“I’m back. Sorry for taking this long. Here is the laptop and your notebook,” Wes interjects.

Wes begins to layout all of Penelope requests in front of her.

Penelope stops Wes with her hand. “Give me a second please Wes. Tarek were you going to say something?”

Wes pushes up his glasses and smirks, I should fire his ass on the spot. Penelope is peering at me waiting for a response.

“It’s nothing. Let’s get to work.”

Hours passed and there was little talk, unless it was to ask a question. I even ended up bringing my laptop in and getting some much-needed admin work done. I should really find time to hire an admin assistant. The last one I hired ended up bent over my desk. Like the others she caught feelings, and I had to let her go.

Watching Penelope work is really something to behold. She is assertive, knowledgeable, focused, even Wes looks like he is falling in love with her as she works.

I had snacks brought up from the bar so the three of us could eat and work together.

Wes whispers something to Penelope and she chuckles as she types and points to a paper. Why the hell is he leaning in to whisper to her. The more he whispers the stronger my urge to flip the fucking table.

“You’re hilarious,” she said to Wes. Why is she smiling so brightly at him? They just met.

She hasn’t looked at me or talked to me once since she started working with Wes. It’s as if I don’t exist. I know it seems childish, but it’s hard not to feel invisible. Not that I need her attention-hell I have a whole line-up of women waiting at my beck and call. But it stings to be completely disregarded. I run my hands through my hair tugging it hard in an attempt to ground my fucking self. It’s a desperate, almost primal gesture, trying to snap out of this spiraling jealousy and reclaim some composure. I need to remember who the fuck I am and not let this situation unravel me.

Penelope throws her head back laughing then…she touches his shoulder. Is he not seeing my jacket on her shoulder? Then his eyes slip down from her face to her cleavage.

That’s all it takes to push me over the edge. “Sit on my face if I’m wrong, but I swear we are supposed to be figuring out where the fuck this leak is.”

They both stare at me wide and frozen like a fucking deer in headlights. My jaw clenches and my cheeks burn. I roll my shoulders back slightly trying to mask the tick. The weight of their gazes presses down me, as this rare moment of fucking shame is slipping through my fingers. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Wes scratches the back of his head. “We are, Mr. Fairisles.”

“Really? Then why does it sound like comedy hour on that side of the table?” I snap, jealousy seeping into my voice.

“Can you please give us a minute Wes?” Penelope says. Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

Wes gets up and leaves the room in haste. As the door closes her smile drops.

“What the hell is your problem?”

I honestly would like to say I don’t know what the fuck is my problem. Instead, I push my chair and spread my legs. “I didn’t realize I had one.”

Her eyebrows lift. “Really, okay. Let me call Wes back in.”

My fingers grasp for a pen, to keep my hands busy. If not they may just wrap around her neck.

“I don’t think you need him. I think you can work by yourself.”

She raises slowly; her defiance is palatable. She walks to the door and opens it.

“Wes, can you?—”

It’s as if I teleported to the door, my body is having an involuntary experience. “Wes, you’re fired. Pack your shit,” I shout.

The whole office stares back at me in shock. I never shout, but now my voice is loud and clear. Wes, my faithful employee for nearly six years, stares at me in shock. The rest of the office all becomes quiet.

Without missing a beat, Penelope shrugs. “Have no fear, The Asylum will welcome you with open arms.” She shifts her sight back on me. “Now Wes can come to work with me, beside me, below me at my beck and call 24/7.”

My jaw clenches. Again, I feel the weight of the stares of my staff. With my eyes still on Penelope, I say, “Wes, you’re re-hired. With a 20% salary raise. Take the rest of the night off.”

I don’t bother to wait for his response. I close the door. My breathing is staggered. I’m both intrigued and irritated.

Penelope’s nose flares as if she was ready for a fight. Her cheeks redden and her lips tighten.

“Did we just have our first argument?” she asks.

Her bottom lips tremble as a flicker of amusement dances in her eyes, as she struggles to hold back a laugh.

“Yes,” I murmur, stepping closer until her back is pressed against the glass door. The frame creaks under the pressure of my palm pressing firmly against it. “I like to fuck after every argument.”

We lock eyes, I can feel the heat rising between us.

“We have an audience,” she flicks her head to the side. Raising my head and I see Wes still standing there now he is joined by six staff members. Luce’s glasses are perched on her nose, and she is fanning herself with a manilla folder.

“I don’t give a fuck.” I murmur.

“Tarek, you have to be professional,” she pleads.

“It’s a sex club. I will be professional some other day.” I’m being 100% honest. I didn’t care who the hell was watching. In fact, I want them to watch especially fucking Wes.

I pull her in by the waist pressing her body flush against mine. She fits like she was made for me. I claim her mouth sucking her bottom lip between my teeth. My hand cradles her face.

“Open your fucking mouth,” I whisper against her lips, my thumb drags her bottom lip down and presses firmly against her chin guiding her.

She moans as she does, my tongue slips into her mouth and I feel greedy, covetous. Wanting her kiss, her touch for me alone. Instantly my eyes open and they land on Wes, never breaking the kiss. I want him to see who the hell she belongs to. My hand slips from her waist to her ass. I love the way my hand does a semi-circle as it traces her ass. I grip her butt cheek, its firm and heavy. I give it a little shake as to tell Wes this ass, this woman…. belongs to me. He swallows, turns and walks away.

Her nails crawl into my shoulders pulling me down to her. I want fucking more. I want to know what color her nipples are, I want to rub my hand on the supple skin of her stomach and slip my fingers into her warm cunt.

“Fuck,” I pull away slowly feeling my resolve slipping from me.

She blinks rapidly up at me, her grip on my arms tightens, her fingers digging in as if she was anchoring herself to steady her world.

“How much more work do you have to do?” I ask, hardly recognizing my own voice.

“Um I’m practically finished with the hard stuff. I fixed the leak; I can email Wes, and he’ll fix the rest.” She swallows hard.

“Do it. Then I can give you a tour of Nowhere and then you will see how unprofessional I can really be.”