The Blue Room Vol. 2: The Blue Room Series (5 page)

BOOK: The Blue Room Vol. 2: The Blue Room Series
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Chapter 8

 

 

           
I
'm in shock. I hardly know what to think. The
man in the elevator, in his wildly expensive tailored Italian suit and coldly
sensual stare, looks almost nothing like the man with the kind eyes and
self-deprecating demeanor I've grown to crush on at the gym. For a second I
don't even believe it's the same person. Wild, stupid theories run through my
mind – the guy has a twin brother, or a look-a-like, some crazy doppelganger,
any truth to distract myself from the one I'm most afraid is true. That Mr.
Nice and Handsome is just another client like the rest. Everything's different.
His tuxedo, his posture, his manner, his voice – it's as if it belongs to a
stranger.

            In
my Diazepam haze, all I can feel is bitterness, a resigned sense of
inevitability.
Of course,
I think.
Of course
he wasn't nice,
after all – only handsome, and that too was probably a lie. Beauty, I've come
to learn during my time at the Blue Room, is something you can buy. Personal
trainers, a perfect haircut, a perfect wardrobe – they're just commodities,
after all. Like me.

            How
stupid I was, I think. Thinking that
anyone
here could be what they
seemed. Thinking that anyone here could be trustworthy, could be a real person,
not just an automaton caring only for money and for sex.

            “You...”
I gasp.

            He's
looking at me with blazing eyes, a heady mix of anger and arousal that, despite
myself, gets me aroused once again. My panties are on the floor, and when I
feel that familiar wetness beneath my legs anew, I flush with embarrassment as
well as desire.

            Terrence
straightens up, looking the man straight in the eye. “Of course she is...Mr...”

            “No
thanks to you.”

            Who
is this man, I wonder? Is this Mr. S – back early from Switzerland? Or is it...

            “Considering
I was sold
expressly
a virgin, it seems you're rather taking a narrow
definition of virginity, aren't you?”

            “She's
intact, if that's what you're worried about.”

            Terrence
is looking Mr. Nice and Handsome straight in the eye – talking about me as if I
were a piece of meat, as if I weren't even there.

            “Technically,
I suppose.” The man's voice is dry. “And to think – your promise to Danny...”

           
Danny
?
My head shoots up in shock. This guy knows Danny? That means he's more than
just a client.

            “Mr...”
Terrence hesitates – becoming at last aware of my presence. “Mr. X.,” he says,
slowly. “My promise to Danny has been kept.”

           
Mr.
X? Mr. Nice and Handsome is Mr. X?
My head is reeling. I can't handle this.
I feel like I'm going to pass out from sheer shock.

            “I
have half a mind to pull out of this whole shambles entirely,” he says. “Sell
my shares.”

           
Mr.
X. is a part-owner of the Blue Room?

           
“Tell
your sick father that you can't even keep away from the girls.”

            “It's
not what it looks like!” Terrence insists. “I'm not going to lie – of course
I've been tempted – I mean, look at her.”

           
Look
at her. A piece of meat. A slab on offer.

           
“As
tempting as she is...”

           
Like
that's supposed to flatter me.

           
“I've
kept my promise. We've never slept together. Sure, we've fooled around....” His
smile is twisted. “But that was strictly business.” It shouldn't hurt as much
as it does when he says it. “I mean...don't you want a girl with just enough
experience to know what a man likes and dislikes? To know what
she
likes
and dislikes?'

            Of
course, I tell myself. This was all part of the game. All of it.

            Nothing
can be trusted here. Nothing is ever true. I feel sick to know Terrence never
cared for me in any way except as a commodity.

            “I'm
here
, you know.” I can hold back no longer. Right now, I can't bring
myself to play the part – not even if it means getting closer to Mr. X. I'm too
angry. “I can speak for myself. If you want to know if I'm a virgin, just
ask
me.”

            Mr.
X. turns to me in surprise. His face changes. His anger, his cruelty, has
vanished. Once more he's the sweet, kind guy from the gym.

            “You're
right...” he says. He kneels down next to me and gently touches my face. “I'm
sorry. I didn't realize you’re...” He swallows. “You look so different with the
hair, the makeup…I was supposed to be gone tonight for a meeting in San
Francisco…meeting you tomorrow. My meeting was canceled and I asked Mrs.
Walters if I could meet you tonight. She said you were booked for a dinner date
– then she called me back a few minutes ago to say that he'd canceled. That you
were free. That I should look for a girl in a gold sequined dress in the
Azure...” He sighs. “I just...didn't expect it to be you.”

            “You
know him?” Terrence is looking at me in shock.

            “In
the gym...” I say. “I thought...I thought you were
normal
.” The words
just slip out.

            He
looks almost embarrassed, almost shy. “I thought you were normal, too.”

            “I
am
a virgin,” I say hotly. “In case you were wondering.”

            “I
believe you,” he says. “You seem...honest. Real.”

           
Like
anyone here is real,
I think.

            “I've
been looking for my next girl. Not a jaded career Blue Girl. Someone...someone
to spend time with. Someone to relax with. Someone who really gets me.”

            Terrence
is looking at us both the way a wolf looks at the rival eating his meat. “Of
course, Mr. X.” His voice is stiff and cold. “You're welcome to her. You're
welcome to any of our girls, subject to availability, of course.” His face is
masked, but his eyes stared at me intensely.

            “You...”
I'm almost shaking. The shock and the drugs and the alcohol have proven too
much for me. “You're so different...”

            “Everyone
has their demons they need to work out,” he says. His eyes are full of pain. “I
come here to work out mine. I thought this was a place where my demons couldn't
hurt anyone...until Roz.”

            “Roz?”

            “I
just want someone different. Someone I can keep safe.” His voice is so low, so
gentle. “Someone like you.”

            Terrence
is staring daggers at him.

            “You
think you can keep her safe? After Roz was killed…”

            He
stops short, and I know he's said too much.

           
So
Roz was murdered. And Terrence knew the whole time.

           
I
don't know when I start to scream, but the screams are coming unbidden from my
throat. I'm screaming so long and so loud, my head numb and dizzy, my brain on
fire, until, finally, oblivion comes.

 

******

           

When
I wake up, I don't know where I am. I remember little. All I can tell is that
I'm lying in a soft, comfortable bed, in a luxurious penthouse suite – I can
tell by the city lights outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, how the other
buildings of the city look so far away, so small. Everything smells like
jasmine. My panties are gone; between my legs, I'm still wet. I'm wearing a
gold dress that's torn from the side.

           
Mrs.
Walters is going to kill me.

           
That's
all I think. I can't remember what happened, what's going on. There's another
smell – here – the smell of musk, of a man's naked chest.

            “Terrence...?”
I whisper.

            But
the shirtless man at my side, wearing nothing but a black silk pair of boxers,
isn't Terrence at all. It's the man from the gym. And he's looking down at me
with tender eyes and a soft, kind smile. Through his boxers I can see evidence
of his arousal.

           
What
happened?

           
“What...”
My voice fails me. “Did we...?”

            “No,
love,” he runs his fingers up and down my arm. His voice is soft, sexy. Much
kinder and gentler than Terrence's wicked smile. “I'd never do that to you. I'd
never do that to anyone. You...passed out in the elevator.”

            “I
did?”

            Now
I remember. Ben's Diazepam. The warnings about alcohol I so stupidly didn't
heed. The shock of finding out that Mr. Nice and Handsome was Mr. X. the whole
time.

            “Did
you...take something?”

            I
nod, feeling embarrassed. “I was nervous,” I said. “I had a couple
Valium...that's all.”

            “You
shouldn't take those,” he says. “I don't like the idea of one of my girls –
needing to feel numb. If you decide you want to be with me – if we decide we
want to be with one another –I want you to be present. In the moment.”

           
If
you decide
. It's the way he says it. Like it's my choice. Like he respects
me. Like I have some say in all of this, instead of being a pawn in someone's
game.

            “I'm
sorry for how I reacted in the elevator,” he says. “It was the shock of seeing
you. And it looks like you had a shock, too.”

            “I
thought you were this nice guy from the gym...” I say.

            “And
I thought you were this nice girl from the gym.” he says. “I guess it teaches
us both a lesson.”

            “Not
to trust anyone?” I smile, weakly, and I'm gratified to see that he smiles
back.

            “No,
love,” he says. “That all of us have two sides to us. That we can be nice
people, good people, even, in the outside world – in our hearts. And still have
desires – kinky, dark, deep – that we need a place to share. I need a safe
outlet for my fantasies – with people I know can handle them. And you – maybe
you need something, too?” He's so gentle with me.

            “I
don't know,” I say.

            “Maybe
I'm a fool,” he says, “but the girls here – they're not just driven by money. I
know that. The prices are high here – but they're not the highest. Perhaps you
think I'm tactless, talking so frankly about money.”

            “Actually,
I don't mind,” I sit up. “At least you're being honest.”

            “I'm
in finance, remember?” he smiles.

            “And
I'm a failed actress...”

            “What
I mean is – there's a lot of places a girl can earn money in this profession.
But the Blue Room – the girls they try to attract want something else, too.
Maybe their own fantasies fulfilled.”

           
I
want the truth
.
That's my fantasy.

           
“In
the outside world,” Mr. X. says. “I don't admit my desires to anyone. Perhaps
I'm afraid of them. Of how desperately I need the kind of sex I want...to be a
different person. I have so much power in the outside world – here, I want to
give up power. To focus on someone else. To adore and become besotted with
someone else. Someone like you.”

            “So
that's why you come here?”

            “Staci,
I want to kiss you.” His hand is on mine. “All I want, right now, is to kiss
you. Do you want that, too?”

            I'm
so shocked by the fact that he asks that I nod, blankly.

            The
kiss is wild, passionate, earth-shattering. His tongue probes so tenderly
against mine.

            “I
want to feel you,” he whispers. “All of you. Do you want me to do that?”

            “Yes...”
I whisper.

            His
fingers glide upward, between my legs. He begins to move – first to my
clitoris, and then inside me, a single deft motion that makes me cry out with
pleasure. I can feel him grow hard against me.

            “I
believe people should always be honest with each other. And I'll be honest with
you, too. I believe that the constraints of this place – the money, the
directness, even the tawdriness – make it easier for me to be honest with women
here than in the outside world.”

            He's
still moving his fingers, and I'm still moaning.

            “Let
me tell you what I want. I want to forget what happened with Roz. She and I
were close, but nothing is as it seems around here. Nothing. I want to move on,
to fall in love again – and yes, I do believe that love has a place, even in a
place like this. I want to find a woman who understands me, who understands the
way I am, who respects that, whom I can respect. Money will change hands, and I
hope that money does you more good than it does me. But I also want something
else. I want you to enjoy it. You see – my real interest isn't in receiving
pleasure. It's in giving it. I want you to experience the best first time any
woman has ever experienced. I want you to experience such exquisite pleasure at
my hands. I've caused a lot of pain in my life – I will be honest with you
about that. But the pleasure I give you – knowing I
can
give such
pleasure to a woman – will make me forget all that. For a while, at least. I
want us to be friends, and lovers, and – colleagues, of a sort.”

            The
pleasure is skyrocketing.

            “I
won't expect you to be monogamous. I understand there will be other men. I
won't hold you to any promises, make you make promises you can't keep. All that
I ask is that when we are together, you give yourself, mind and body, over to
me – and let me take over. If you choose to see me exclusively, I can promise
that I will never see another woman at the Blue Room, or any other
establishment – though I cannot promise monogamy in the traditional way.

BOOK: The Blue Room Vol. 2: The Blue Room Series
3.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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