The Blue Room: Vol. 1 (8 page)

          The heat is overpowering.
His hands against my thigh, his fingers caressing deeper, rubbing me just
enough to get the blood pumping and that breath so shallow in my throat. All I
know right now is – I want him. I want him so badly I'm willing to throw
everything else away if he can just let me come.

          And he knows it.

          He knows I'm enjoying him
just as much as he's enjoying me. The thrill of the chase. Combat in caresses.
He knows I know it too.

          “You're just as excited
about me as I am about you.” His breath is warm against my neck. “Your body is
more talkative than you are, Staci.”

          “Terrence.” His fingers are
in all the right places, now, moving faster and faster, bringing up my heart
rate with each slow and torturous caress. It's hot, so hot, and all I want to
do is tear off that expensive mint gown Mrs. Walters has bought for me. No, who
am I kidding? I want him to tear it off.

          “I love watching you,” he
whispers. “Your face.” He probes deeper, and then his fingers are inside me,
pressing upwards, into that rough patch of flesh that sends me wild. I'm
moaning – I know that now – and I can't stop myself. I don't know if I want to.
“So full of desire and passion.”

          He's getting rougher, now.
Almost violent. But his eyes are fixed on me and I know he's listening to every
beat of my heart, every sharp intake of breath. I know he knows he's going to
push me exactly how far I can go – and no further. He knows my body as well as
I do.

          “Oh, Terrence!” I'm
moaning; I'm panting; I'm heaving. They can hear me all the way down in Mrs.
Walters' office. “Terrence – this – this feels so good – but...”

          But my client's meant to be
here already. And somehow I don't think watching me get fingered by Terrence
Blue is the kink he signed up for.

          Or maybe it is, who knows?
The Blue Room's clientele seem pretty into the weird stuff.

          “You have no idea what
you're missing.” Terrence whispers into my ears. “Such pleasure. Such wild
pleasure. All yours. A body and a face like yours – your body is an instrument.
Built to give, but also to receive.”

          At once I'm on the
defensive. I'm no instrument – I'm not
built for
anything, except maybe
finding out the truth about Rita. But it's hard to think about that when my
mind is going blank, when my eyes are rolling back into my head, when with a
shudder and a scream that feels like an explosion I'm coming onto his fingers,
his hand, against his chest, crying out into his neck.

          I buck a few more times and
then he takes his fingers out of me, lifts them to his lips, begins to suck
them dry.

          The look he gives me almost
makes me come a second time.

          “Next time,” he says, and
I'm wet again just hearing it. “I'll take off your panties first. Then I'll do
exactly what I just did to you – only next time, I'm going to use my tongue.
And you'll come so fast – I know girls like you – on edge the way you are. It'll
only take a few licks before you come so hard you won't know what hit you. But
it won't be over.” He wipes his lips with a handkerchief, impeccably
monogrammed TJB. “I bet you can come at least four or five times in an hour.
You look like it this time. And I'm going to make sure I have the chance to
find out.”

          I can't even think.

          A knock at the door slams
us both out of the reverie.

          “It's him!” My voice
catches in my throat.

         
Shit. How am I going to
get Terrence out of here?

         
I start fixing my lipstick, my hair,
everything. I tell myself that this is all part of the plan – that seducing
Terrence Blue is the best way to get inside the
real
back of the Blue
Room, to figure out what happened to Rita and why. But why does it feel like he
seduced me? And why does it feel so good?

          “It's him...”

          But before I can get to the
door, Terrence is already there. He leans out, whispers a few words, then
closes it again before I can say anything.

          “Why did you send him
away?” I ask.

          My first client – and I
don't even get to meet him? Terrence Blue is bad for business.

          “An unnecessary
distraction.”

          “But he's already paid!” I
cry out. “Mrs. Walters says he's already paid for dinner...”

          Terrence bursts out
laughing. “Staci,” he says. “That was housekeeping. For the vase.”

          “But...” the realization
hits me before I finish the sentence. “My patron.”

          Terrence doesn't say
anything. He just stares at me, with those amazing blue eyes, until I nod,
slowly.

          “I think you've passed the
dinner test, Staci,” he says. “Normally I make my decisions after dessert – but
in this case – I think I will have you for the rest of the night.”

          I stare up at him in shock.

          I'd been prepared to sleep
with a patron, that much was true. I'd been prepared to sleep with someone for
whom I felt nothing, not even attraction, to turn off my body and my mind and
just go through the motions, like a robot. Be an actress, playing a scene with
a stranger. But it hadn't occurred to me that I'd have to sleep with Terrence.
Terrence for whom I felt something real, even if it was just desire.

          “You're joking...” Somehow,
I know he's not. “Terrence – you have to go before my client gets here.”

          “Don't play dumb, Staci.”
He grins, pinning my arms above my head as he presses against me once again. He
leans in to kiss me behind the ears, which feels so good that my heart stops
for a second in sheer ecstasy. I half-close my eyes, enjoying the way his
tongue is probing my ears, my neck. “I'm getting through to you, Miss Atussi.
That much I'm sure of.” His kiss intoxicates me. “Little by little,” he says.
“I'm chipping away that virginal little chastity belt of yours.” He applies
more pressure, then his teeth, and that little bit of pain sends me over the
edge. I'm moaning again, unable to stand it any longer.

          “You see, I've found one of
your buttons.” I'm practically screaming. “You're still new enough to pleasure,
that discovering it excites you. You're still so untouched, so fresh – you take
such pleasure in the pleasure you feel. You can't fake how your skin heats up
underneath my fingers. You can't fake how your pretty blue eyes are dilated so
wide. Your body's taking over. Whatever your mind is screaming, it won't
listen.”

          “Terrence...my dress...my
hair...” I don't even know what I'm saying now.

          “Sorry baby. Those things
are beyond repair. It's fine. I'll pay damages.” His teeth nip against my neck
and leave a bruise. His smile is wicked. “I called the original client –
assigned him elsewhere.”

          “Why would you do that?” My
mouth falls open. Against myself I'm thinking of the money, of what it could do
for my mother.

          “Don't worry,” he said.
“You'll still get paid. I'll see to that. But I don't know what Mrs. Walters
was thinking booking you with him for the night. Although I can see how he
could have gotten a whiff of you from that little performance you did onstage
the other night.”

          “He seems...specific,” I
say, thinking of how carefully Mrs. Walters and the others made me up.

          I'd rather him than
Terrence. At least then I don't have to worry about falling for him.

          “He likes that glamorous
look. The sex bomb you pretend to be. ”

          “Well, then I'll pretend to
be experienced for him,” I say. “Isn't that my job. To fulfill men's
fantasies.”

          “Not his,” Terrence looks
grave. “Look – Staci,” his voice is almost tender. “The stuff he likes – this
guy is extreme. And he wants extreme things. To do to girls and to be done to
him. There's a reason he pays as much as it does. But the stuff he'll ask you
to do – it will take a toll. Even among the Blue Girls, several refuse to see
him. After what he's done to some of the girls.”

         
Girls like Rita?

          Now I'm more curious than
ever to meet him.

          “What does he do to them?”

          “He's one of our best
patrons at the club,” says Terrence, as if that settles it. “What he wants, he
gets.”

          “So he can have his way
with any girl?” The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “What if they say
no?”

          His smile is dark. “They
never say no.”

Chapter
9

          “
I
want to see him,” I say.

          It's the most dangerous
thing I've ever said, but right now, I'm sure it's what I want. This man –
whoever he is – sounds like someone who might have known Rita. Who might have
killed her. No, I won't let myself think that way. All I know is – he might
know where Rita is. And right now, that's good enough for me.

          Part of me, too, knows that
it'll be easier this way. To do sick, strange things with a stranger won't
shake me nearly as much as taking money for sex with Terrence Blue. I'm not
afraid of getting hurt.

          “I want to protect you,” he
says.

          I want to laugh in his
face.

          “
You
want to protect
me?
”

          Like he hasn't grown up in
the lap of luxury. Like he hasn't grown up with everything he's ever wanted. He
thinks I haven't met prostitutes before? Pimps? Men who beat up women? When you
grow up in the one-night-cheap motels of Las Vegas, you learn pretty early on
that you have to protect yourself. I've been beaten up before. Back when I
worked the cash register, drunks would try to get fresh all the time. And he
thinks he's going to protect me? Ridiculous.

          I'm going to protect
myself. And Rita, too. If she's still alive.

          “Why?”

          “If he can have whatever he
wants,” I say, “he's going to have me sooner or later. And I don't want to
waste time. Maybe I'll change my mind tomorrow. You might want to sell me off
while I'm still ready, willing, and able.”

          “I told him you were so new
– we didn't have all your paperwork filled out yet. Confidentiality agreements.
Security checks. STD testing.”

          “Confidentiality
agreements?”

          “This patron is discreet.
Not that he needs paperwork to keep people quiet. This guy has a lot of people
who – ah – shut people up as necessary.”

          I'm starting to get
nervous. But I didn't come to the Blue Room to back out. My intuition tells me
that this guy is the guy I want.

          “I want to know who he is.”

          “You don't,” says Terrence.
“You're better off not knowing. We have a lot of people who come into the Blue
Room. Celebrities, princes, billionaires, politicians. People powerful enough
to make those disappear whom they perceive as a threat. Many of our girls don't
even know his name. He likes it that way.”

         
Did he make Rita
disappear?
The question has filled my brain so entirely I can't think of
anything else.

          “You can at least tell me
what he's into,” I say. “I want to be prepared.”

          “He's rough,” said
Terrence. “Dominant.”

          “I can handle that.”

          “Are you sure you can?”

          He takes my hand and pushes
me onto the bed.

          “When you can't even handle
this?”

          He gets on top of me. He's
straddling me.

          “He's not going to take his
time with you. He's not going to kiss you gently, make you wet. He runs the
world. He hasn't got time for that.”

          I can't help myself. Again
I'm turned on – so turned on I can't move.

          “Don't move,” he says.

          “I'm not – oh!”

          His tongue is down between
my thighs, working its way upwards.

          He finds what he's looking
for. I arch my back. The pleasure is so intense I can't stand it. My panties
are down somewhere around my ankles; his face is buried between my legs; his
tongue is licking me over and over, probing deep, reenacting the motions of his
fingers earlier.

          He's right. I can't handle
it.

          “You're delicious,” he
murmurs, his breath intoxicating me as it ripples between my legs.

          I scream his name over and
over when I come.

          “That's one,” he whispers.
He strips the dress from me, pulls it onto the floor.