Tempted by Pleasure (Secret Invitation #1) (5 page)

“Erin,” he growls, closing his eyes and tilting his head for deeper penetration.

“No!”

His eyes open. “What?”

“I can’t,
we can’t
do this. If we’re going to be friends, we need to establish some boundaries.”

“Chemistry,” he whispers.

“I’ll let you know if I need a fuck buddy.” I push him away, my heart pounding.

The driver told me he was at my disposal. I rush to the couch, snatch my purse up, and glance in Foster’s general direction, avoiding his hypnotic eyes. “Call me.” My heels click noisily across the tile and I step into the hallway outside, desperate to escape.

Another minute under his spell, I would have ripped his clothes off.

Chapter 8

Foster

“Ripe as forbidden fruit.” I suck down half a beer. “I let her slip through my hands like an idiot.”

“I had my doubts yesterday,” Kevin says. “But if she’s repressed her sexuality all this time, does it really surprise you how she responded?”

I stare at my best friend, wondering if he’s from a different planet. “Shed the fucking lab coat and talk normal. She’s not a medical case.”

“No, but I’m fascinated.”

“Find your own.”

“Maybe I will.” He nips his wine. “Did you have a chance to review the nondisclosure agreement and other paperwork for Erin?”

“It’s fine.”

“Good. I plan on stopping by her store tomorrow morning and getting her signature on the necessary forms.”

“Shouldn’t you call first, make an appointment?”

He exhales loudly. “The element of surprise always works to our advantage, one of the first rules you taught me. Give women too much time to think and they’ll likely change their minds. Do you want Ms. Covington to back out?”

“No,” I snap, sexually frustrated for the first time since adolescence. “I want you to run an extensive background check on Thomas Kingsley.”

“The port-a-potty king’s son?” He looks amused.

“Yes.”

“Are you considering a recommendation for membership?”

I’d prefer eliminating him from the human race, but Kevin just gave me a better idea. “Report back to me as soon as you can.”

“Anything else?”

I glance up, still absorbed in my own thoughts. Mutual attraction was never in question, but after I got a taste of Erin’s sweet lips again, something happened. It’s similar to a goddamned aftershock, and the earthquake hasn’t even occurred yet. “Drink.”

“Isn’t that what I’m doing?”

“Get drunk,” I clarify.

He smirks and refills his glass. “Should I be worried?”

I laugh. “Shall I drink you under the table again?” I outweigh Kevin by thirty pounds. “Get me a whiskey on the rocks while you’re up.” I offer him my empty high ball.

He grabs it. “Anything else, mistress?” Kevin trudges to the wet bar on the far side of my living room. “Perhaps I need to reevaluate
your
mental fitness to remain an active member.”

I like the sound of the ice cubes chinking the bottom of my glass. “Invite her to the cocktail party tomorrow night.”

He gazes at me. “That’s for platinum members only.”

“Not anymore. I need to see her in a different setting, when she’s open to physical contact.”

“But not with you.”

I nod. “I’ve picked my front man.”

“Who?”

“Jeffrey Whitmore.”

Kevin hands me my drink, then reclaims his place on the couch. “He’s nearly a dead ringer for you.”

“Precisely.”

“You know how I feel about this, Foster.”

“And you know how she feels about me. I fucked up any chance of a
normal
relationship with her.”

He waves his hand. “Years ago.”

“Not to her.”

“What if she gets attached to Jeffrey?”

“I’ve taken every precaution, established a rigid understanding with him.”

To my surprise, Kevin guzzles his drink now, apparently up to the challenge. “We’ve never experimented like this before or broken rules.”

“There’s always a first time.” I’m determined. Kevin’s acute sense of right or wrong won’t sway me. After spending several hours with Erin, I know she’ll resist me just to prove something. I knew it before I visited her store. “Your only concern is to make sure she shows up.”

Erin

Dr. Mallory arrives at my store while I’m knee-deep in boxes, packing tape, and garbage. Katie escorts him to the storage room and stands behind him with her arms crossed over her chest.

“I wasn’t expecting you today,” I say, stepping over a pile of hardcovers. “Is there something wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Good.” I offer my hand and he raises it to his lips. “There’s paperwork to look over. Can we go to your office?”

“Sure.”

“Erin?” Katie coughs.

“Can you finish the inventory alone?” I ask her.

“No.” Although she initiated contact with the club, I think she’s having second thoughts. I’m afraid she’ll say something out of line.

“Dr. Mallory, this is Katie.”

“Ms. Vargas.” He flashes perfect teeth, his gaze lingering on her for a few seconds, then focuses on me again. “Twenty minutes and we’ll be done.”

How did he know her last name? “This way.” We walk down a short hallway to my cramped space. “Please, have a seat.”

Once I close the door, he sets his expensive Italian leather briefcase on my desk. He takes out a folder and flips it open. “All of your lab results are in. My only concern is a slight iron deficiency.”

“My levels fluctuate, but I take supplements and see my doctor regularly.”

He nods. “I’d like to run another blood test in sixty days to establish a baseline for my own records. Okay?”

I agree.

“Good. Now the first document I need you to review is a nondisclosure agreement. Read it very carefully, Ms. Covington, it’s legally binding. And if you choose to break it once you’ve signed, I must tell you, the legal fallout will rival Chernobyl.”

I don’t appreciate his threatening tone, but I suppose he’s only doing his job. I take the paper. I’m immediately drawn to the section that reads
The nondisclosure provisions of this Agreement shall survive the termination of this Agreement and Receiving Party's duty to hold Confidential Information in confidence shall remain in effect until the Confidential Information no longer qualifies as a trade secret or until the Receiving Party’s death, whichever occurs first
. . .

As a business owner, I’ve signed my share of legal documents but this is so morbid. I flick my eyes up. “Blood of a virgin? My firstborn?”

His lips twitch. “Please note the agreement extends to your family members. If you discuss anything with anyone and they go public, serious ramifications
will
follow.”

“Just what am I getting into, Dr. Mallory?”

“Something that can change your future for the better. The contacts you’ll make through your membership will improve many aspects of your life, Ms. Covington. However, if you have any doubts, let me advise you to refrain from signing anything.”

I stare at him. Is he an attorney or doctor? He’s much too comfortable in his own skin. Cool and confident, polished and painfully sexy. Does he represent the typical Lazarus member? If so, I’d be foolish to say no. However, underneath his sophisticated façade is a darker side. I sense it. Anyone who can represent a sex club with such detached finesse must be dangerous. He doesn’t bat an eyelash as I continue to scrutinize him.

“Your reaction is normal.”

“Is it?”

“Perfectly.”

“Somehow that doesn’t put me at ease.” How could it? “I don’t know if I’m comfortable being told I can’t engage in intercourse outside the charter.”

“Cunnilingus, fellatio, and penetrative intercourse are reserved for members only.”

Heat suffuses my whole body. Suddenly I understand why my mother nearly fainted when I tried to discuss sex with her. “Thank you for clarifying that for me.”

“If you are in a relationship . . .”

“I’m not!”

He grins. “If your relationship status changes, you can cancel your membership at any time. Just know, once you do, you can never rejoin.”

Such finality. I stare at the document again, rereading each section. We also review the club handbook, a booklet as thick as any paperback on my shelves. It covers everything from hygiene to interacting with members.

“Do you have a pen?” He offers me a Montblanc ballpoint.

I sign. I’m fully committed. And it’s time to put my own needs first. “What’s next?”

He pockets his pen, then checks the papers. “Everything is in order, Ms. Covington. Let me be the first to congratulate you. Read the handbook tonight. You’ve been invited to an exclusive cocktail party tomorrow evening, an event typically reserved for our platinum members.”

“Why?”

“It seems you already have admirers in high places.” He stashes the contract in his briefcase. “Until tomorrow.”

I stand up, not knowing what to say exactly. “Where’s the party?”

He adjusts his silk tie. “A limousine will pick you up at home at eight-thirty tomorrow evening. Please don’t question the driver and follow
all
instructions.”

He leaves my office.

I can’t help the exhilaration I feel, like I’m caught up in some espionage caper or soft porn. I’m actually wet between the legs and no one has even touched me.

“What did Feelgood want?” Katie asks from the doorway.

“You mean Dr. Lookgood?”

She snorts. “If you like ‘em stiff.”

“I do.”

She sticks her tongue out. “We’re going to your house so you can tell me everything.”

“I can’t.”

“You will.”

Chapter 9

Erin

I’m a nervous wreck. The limo will be here in one hour, and Katie keeps lambasting me with questions. She spent the night and still won’t be quiet.

“I can’t concentrate on my mascara if you keep talking.”

“Maybe you’ll poke your eye and miss the party.”

I stare at her reflection in my mirror. “Thanks for your vote of confidence. I’m perfectly capable of managing my life.”

“The two times you’ve seen a penis you ran away. Right, Goldilocks?”

“What?” Once again I drop the wand in the sink.

“Remember, too hot, too cold? In your case, too big or small.”

I twist around and clap my hands. “Brilliant. But isn’t there a happy ending? Her next bowl of porridge is just right.”

“Is that what you’re expecting?” She clicks her tongue. “Then I suggest sizing up their hands.”

What is she talking about now? “Explain.”

“A guy’s dick measures up to his palm and thumb.”

“Urban legend.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Wanna bet?” She brandishes her cell phone. “I’ll get Jack over here and we’ll just see how wrong I am.”

“You measured it?”

She smiles.

I shake my head, envisioning her subjecting her latest boy toy to such humiliation. “You’re shameless.” I try to pull off a pissy look, but she’s too funny. “I’ll try to remember.” I finish with my eye makeup and turn to the full-length mirror on the wall behind me.

“Damn, girl.”

“Too much?” I slide my hands down the front of my Tadashi Shoji black lace sheath dress I bought at Nordstrom’s last week. “Guess I knew I needed something slinky.”

“You’re beautiful, Erin, maybe too hot.”

She’s sitting on the closed toilet seat and I walk over to her. “You’re sweet for saying so.”

“I don’t think you understand.” She grasps my hand.

“I thought you were going to support whatever choice I made.”

She blows out an exaggerated breath. “Can’t a girl worry about her best friend?”

“I have my cell phone and I’m sure the driver has a license number or some kind of special identification we can ask for. You can escort me to the car.”

She taps her sandaled foot. “That’s a start, but I’d prefer a microchip.”

“No GPS and no more questions. I’m sworn to secrecy.” She even wants me to disclose everything Dr. Mallory and I discussed. “Don’t take it personally, I just want to do everything right.”

Half an hour later, the limo pulls into my driveway. Katie drapes my silk chiffon beaded wrap over my shoulders and hands me my clutch. “I don’t know what to say.” She pulls me into a tight embrace. “I’m so excited for you, but scared shitless.”

“Let’s go outside.”

The chauffeur steps out of the vehicle and smiles. “Good evening, Ms. Covington. My name is Neil.” Dressed in the traditional black uniform, his gargantuan size suggests he missed his true calling to be a body guard or NFL player.

“Hello, Neil,” I say. “Can you provide some credentials? Maybe a cell phone number, too?”

He reaches inside his breast pocket and flashes a shield.

“Wait.” Katie grabs his hand. “You’re a cop?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Katie has a pen and small tablet and writes down his name and shield number. “Cell number?”

She records it. “Let me use your phone, Erin.”

I surrender it and she dials. A second later, Neil’s phone rings.

“Satisfied?” I ask.

She nods, and I kiss her cheek.

“What time will Ms. Covington be home?” she asks the driver, sounding like my mother.

“Whenever she pleases.”

Neil opens the door and I slide inside. After he closes it, my eyes adjust quickly to the dim lighting. An open bottle of champagne is waiting in a bucket of ice, orchestra music is playing, and there’s a silk lap blanket folded on the seat across from me.

“Welcome to Lazarus,” Neil says as he settles in the driver’s seat. “Before we go anywhere, there’s a few rules we need to discuss.”

“I’m listening.” Excitedly.

“The directors at Lazarus want you to know how pleased they are you accepted their invitation. Tonight is the beginning of a new life for you, Ms. Covington.”

“Thank you.”

He turns so he can see me. “You are in complete control. If at any time you change your mind, tell me, and I’ll take you home. To your left is a compartment. Inside, you’ll find an envelope and blindfold. Please read the letter before I continue.” He faces forward again, giving me privacy.

A blindfold? Heat spirals up my spine. The mere mention of something so naughty thrills me. I can’t believe how giddy I am. Am I doing the right thing or condemning myself to shame if I live out my sexual fantasies? It’s too late to turn back now. Curiosity doesn’t just kill the cat, does it? I find a latch and a small glove box opens. The gold envelope is sealed with a Lazarus insignia. I open it.

Dear Ms. Erin Covington,

The Board of Directors welcomes you to the Lazarus Club.

In the tradition of Marquis de Sade, sexual pleasure is a passion to which all others are subordinate but in which they all unite.

Within our sanctified halls women are worshipped. No form of pleasure is considered profane. Your deepest desires will be fulfilled. The price is complete and utter silence. Relish you were chosen. Know you are protected. Believe you are no longer alone. Lazarus is evolutionary, an opportunity to experience limitless self-indulgence without facing animus. Our brotherhood has survived five generations because we live beyond the limitations of social norms. We believe one thing, the human body was created to give and receive pleasure.

F.W.

I slip the paper back inside the envelope and sit in contemplative silence.
Relish you were chosen. Know you are protected. Believe you are no longer alone.
The welcome alone is a turn-on. My heartbeat races and my mouth is dry. No man I know speaks like that. And if he did, I’d have a ring on my finger already.
Evolution? Beast to man, or man to beast?

“Are you finished?” Neil asks.

I jump. How can I give pleasure if I’ve never fully received it? Will I disappoint the man I choose as my lover? Fear crashes over me.

“Ms. Covington?”

“Sorry.” I smooth my skirt, trying to keep my nervous hands from fidgeting. “Yes.”

“Do you have any questions?”

“Virgins . . .” I cover my mouth.

Neil smiles.

“I-I . . .”
Get your shit together.
I’ve dated, kissed and groped, just never fucked. “I’m inexperienced.”

“No one will judge you.”

I hope not. “The blindfold?”

“Please put it on now. The location of the event is strictly confidential.”

My fingers skim over the silky black material.
Cover my eyes
. Something I’ve always fantasized about, but been too ashamed to share with anyone. Secrets were my only escape from the strict reality I grew up in, one where everything and everyone had its place. Compartmentalizing my life was a skill I learned early on and nearly perfected. Like the books in my store, I’ve been tagged and shelved for so long I don’t remember what it’s like to take risks, until now.

I fit the blindfold over my eyes.

We drive in silence, and it takes forever for the car to pull off what I guess is the highway. The limo makes two sharp turns, then barrels down a quiet road. Minutes later it stops and Neil gets out. I shift nervously, anxious to see where I am. My door finally opens.

“Ms. Covington, give me your hand.” I rely on Neil’s deep, authoritative voice to guide me up a set of stairs and through several doorways. “You can remove your blindfold now.”

We’re standing in a grand entry with a pair of mahogany doors and double-radius transom with leaded beveled glass. Wrought-iron floor candle stands shed shimmery light. I know southern architecture, and judging by the space, we’re in a restored Victorian mansion. A third archway opens into a reception hall where people are dancing and socializing.

The open-floor plan, high ceilings, and large windows are aesthetically pleasing. Four crystal chandeliers bathe the room in soft light. Mesmerized, I slink forward. There’s a black marble fireplace along the far wall. Neil rests his hand on my shoulder, and I glance at him.

“This is a beautiful home.”

“You’ll get accustomed to luxury, Ms. Covington. The directors have impeccable taste.”

I scan the crowd. “Not just in décor.” All the women are gorgeous.

“You’re very observant.” He chuckles. “Someone is waiting for us. Will you come with me?”

As we cross the room, I notice several men
and
women staring at me. I grip Neil’s arm tighter, suddenly aware of how dependent I am on him for a shred of confidence. We leave the main room, walk down a short hallway, and stop at an oak door.

“This is where we part ways, Ms. Covington.”

“Really?” I refuse to let go. He’s a lucky rabbit foot as far as I’m concerned and I need all the help I can get tonight. “Please stay.”

“Do you want to go home?” He appears genuinely concerned.

“No.”

“You need a drink. Dr. Mallory is waiting inside the library for you.”

The doc will be a welcome sight. I’ve never felt comfortable in big crowds where I didn’t know anyone. Even when I travel alone to Europe, I get butterflies in my stomach. “I’m ready.”

Neil knocks on the door. I hear footsteps, then it opens.

“Ms. Covington.” Dr. Mallory smiles. “Thank you, Neil. That will be all for now.”

I watch my Goliath-sized security blanket leave before I face the doc again. “I’m here.”

“Yes.” His gaze slides down my body, then up again. “You are beautiful.”

His compliment shuts me up and I end up in a stiff, leather wingback chair sipping brandy.

“After you finish your drink, I’ll escort you to the reception room and introduce you to some of the members. Several gentleman have already expressed an interest in meeting you.”

I cross my ankles, staring at him over my glass. “How?”

“We post biographies of new members on a secure website.”

No one mentioned anything about online profiles. “I’m not sure I like my personal information being in cyberspace. If my parents . . .”

“It’s a closed-loop network. There’s no security threat, I promise.” He approaches and refills my glass. “I know how nervous you must be. There’s no pressure tonight. When you’re ready, let
me
know. We can simply observe other couples. Understand?”

“I can watch people make love?” Why am I surprised? It’s a sex club that claims to cater to every sort of fantasy. Watching another couple fuck might be fun. Right? Somehow I just can’t fully accept that I’m here yet.

“Yes. But most of our members engage behind closed doors.” He sits in the chair to my right, then steeples his fingers. “We have a voyeur room.”

I finish the brandy and set the empty glass on the side table. Gripped by liquid courage, I blurt out, “There’s no reason to delay.”

“One last thing.” He offers me his hand. “Some members prefer to remain anonymous and wear masks to all the parties.”

Our eyes connect and I’m suddenly aware how attracted I am to Dr. Mallory. He’s dressed in a tailored, charcoal-colored suit with a burgundy tie. He’s slim and athletic looking, like a tennis player, with dark hair and hazel eyes. I think a super-hot version of Niles from
Frasier
and giggle.

“Did I say something amusing?”

“No.”

The corner of his mouth curls upward. As we step out, I know I’m never going to be the same again.