The Girlfriend (The Boss) (23 page)

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Authors: Abigail Barnette

BOOK: The Girlfriend (The Boss)
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Neil chatted a bit, introducing me to the man in French, but I couldn’t understand anything they discussed. Every now and then, Neil’s hand would tighten at my waist, and I shifted on my heels, which were a little too strappy and delicate for long-term standing.

“I’m sorry, let’s have a seat,” Neil apologized, pulling out a stool for me. I hopped up and crossed my legs.
 

I swiveled away from the bar to view the room. The caning couple had finished, and a few people clapped politely, as though it had been an act in a show. And I guess it was; Neil had said the purpose was to hang out with like-minded people and get turned on, and this was for sure the right environment to do it in. Everyone in this place had arrived with sex on their minds. That was usually true of most non-BDSM clubs I’d been to in New York, but here it was in the open. Nothing was taboo. That potent sexual freedom went to my head faster than any shot of Tequila ever had.

As Neil conferred with the man at the bar, I people watched. Two of the men in the group I’d noticed before stood up and left. The two who stayed behind were talking, and I found myself fascinated by one of them, a dark-haired man in a black suit. He could have been a singer in a music video, slumped casually in his expensive clothes on the stylish furniture. When he spoke, he made the occasional gesture with his big hands, and when he laughed, he showed straight white teeth that practically twinkled like he was a prince in a particularly self-aware Disney movie.

I knew I should look away. I had one of those heavy stares people felt the weight of. But it was too late; he looked up, pausing mid-sentence to his friend, who followed his eye line over to me. His friend looked me over before turning back to the conversation.

My eyes shifted to my lap for just a moment, but when I lifted my gaze again, the first man was still watching me, a slight smile bending his mouth. I held his gaze boldly, just for a minute, until Neil captured my attention.

“For you,” Neil said, pushing a stemmed glass toward me. “Unless you weren’t drinking tonight?”

“I won’t be drinking much,” I said with a sweet smile to him. But my nerves were crackling with excitement, so a little something to take the edge off was welcome and needed.

After their short conversation, Neil’s friends left. He bid them goodbye, and turned back to me. “I see you’ve caught someone’s eye.”

My face flushed. The guy on the couch was still watching me. Would Neil get mad? I didn’t want him to think I was trolling for dudes when I was with him.

“We’ve been... eye flirting,” I admitted with a nervous giggle. I took a sip of my wine. It was not helping the heat in my face at all.

“You’ve been eye
fucking
,” Neil amended for me. “I don’t blame him, the way you look in that dress.”

A claiming hand fell on my knee. My heart pounded. Neil had never proven to be a jealous guy. He’d told me he’d be fine watching me have sex with another man, but I wondered what, exactly he would get out of the experience.

“Can I ask... What’s the appeal for you? In the thought of seeing another man fuck me?” Just in case he was worried I was talking about that specific guy on the couch, I added, “You mentioned it before, but now there’s a guy checking me out. I’m just curious, is it because you get off on jealousy or something?”

“That’s a bit of it,” he admitted. “There is a part of me that gets off on seeing other people enjoy and covet what’s mine. Not that you belong to me, but when we’re like this...”

“When it comes to our sexual relationship. I knew what you meant,
Sir
.” I loved that he made that distinction. On this trip, I was his full-time sub. I did belong to him. But when we returned to England, I wouldn’t. I would be Sophie Scaife again, with all the personal autonomy I’d had before. That made it easier to submit totally; I don’t think I could have let him do half the things he did to me if I couldn’t trust that he thought of me as his equal and not his possession.

But right now, in the middle of the game, it felt so, so good to be possessed.

“Do you like him?” Neil asked making eye contact with the man, who nodded back and raised his drink.

“I don’t know if I like him or not, but I’m sure attracted to him.” I smiled at the stranger as he let his gaze slowly trail down my body.

“Would you like to meet him?” Neil’s hand on my knee slid up my thigh, under my skirt.

“Um... not for full sex,” I whispered, leaning up so my lips grazed his jaw. “But I’m down for other stuff.”

I felt a shiver go through him.

“There might be nothing at all,” he reminded me. “Not everyone comes here looking for sex. Some just like the atmosphere.”

I considered the handsome stranger. He didn’t look like he was interested in atmosphere, at the moment.

“Let’s see what happens,” I said with a shrug.

Had I really just admitted to my boyfriend that I wanted to let a stranger do sexual things to me? And he wasn’t furious? He was actually excited?

Oh, Neil and I were meant for each other.

His hand crept up my thigh under my skirt, to the black lace of my panties. I looked over at the man, who was still watching us with amused interest. His gaze dropped pointedly to my exposed thigh.

“Take this off,” Neil commanded, snapping the band. I looked up at him, then around us. But I hopped off the stool and obeyed him, and nobody batted an eye. It must have been a fairly common sight, then?

Neil tucked the panties into his jacket pocket. “All right. Go over and ask him if he speaks English. If he does, I want you to ask him if he’d like to make you come.”

For a heart-stopping moment, I knew there was no way I was going to be able to say that to a stranger. Then, rational thought took over. Neil was here with me. The club was safe. Everyone here knew this was a sex club. And the worst that could happen would be that he could reject me, which didn’t really matter. It wasn’t like I was looking to even know his name. If he wanted to pass, it might prick my pride for a split second, but then I would go back to the hotel and fuck my hot boyfriend’s brains out. Either way, I was walking out a winner.

After that, the submissive mindset kicked in fully. My Sir had asked me to do this. It would please him to see me coming with another man’s hands on me. My pulse throbbed hard between my legs. I would never in my life have approached a stranger and so blatantly asked for sexual favors, but as Neil’s submissive, I didn’t have the burden of rational thought holding me back. I didn’t have to think at all. All I needed to do was enjoy the experience, no matter the outcome.

“What if he doesn’t speak English?” I asked Neil.

“Then raise your skirt, and I’ll come over and I’ll speak to him.”

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Like you do.”

“If there is anything you don’t like, say a strange vibe, or you feel unsafe and change your mind—”
 

“Safeword. Got it.” I tilted my head. “’
Sécurité
’, right?”


Trés bon
.”

I blew him a kiss and started toward the man, who unbuttoned his jacket and leaned back, his enigmatic expression darkening with a hint of desire.

I walked over, my heart racing, my thighs trembling. The guy was even more handsome up close. His neatly trimmed dark hair parted classically to the side. Beneath his jacket, his black shirt had silver pinstripes I hadn’t noticed from the bar, and the top two buttons were open. His eyes were a gorgeous, deep brown, rimmed by dark lashes. Silver rings winked on his big, square fingers, in sharp contrast to the dark hair on his knuckles.

He looked up at me expectantly, and I shook my hair back and hitched up my shoulders. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. Would I get in trouble? I bunched my skirt in my fists, arms tight at my sides. “
Anglais
?” I asked, just as Neil had instructed me.

“Yes, of course,” he answered with a soft accent I couldn’t immediately place.

“My Sir...” I looked back to Neil, who was watching with cautious amusement. I gave him a confident smile, and turned back to the stranger. Slowly, I eased my skirt up my thighs. As my hem rose higher and my bare vulva was exposed, the man’s eyes widened. I continued, my voice almost too breathless to be heard over the music, “wants to know if you’d like to make me come.”

A slow smile spread over the stranger’s face. He looked young, probably in his early thirties, boyish but not innocent by any stretch of the imagination. He was wolfish, hungry, a bad boy dressed up in good boy clothing. He rose and nodded to Neil, gesturing him over.

And I stood there, my lower half exposed in a room full of people, trembling with need from the naughtiness of it all. Could I really let another man touch me? Get me off?

The stranger shook Neil’s hand. Neil seemed very pleased as he looked the man over. He wore a friendly grin as he introduced himself to the man, who called himself Emir.

I wondered if Neil was attracted to him, as well.

“You have excellent taste, Leif,” Emir complimented Neil, his eyes slowly raking up and down my body. “Shall we go to one of the private rooms?”

“I think that would be a lovely idea, don’t you, Chloe?” Neil asked me, laying one warm hand over the back of my neck. All I could do was follow on jelly legs as Emir led us to through the club. At a padded black swinging door, Neil and Emir both greeted the bouncer cordially, and he nodded us in.

As we walked, Emir had slipped his arm around my waist, and his hand moved from my hip to my butt through the thin material of my skirt. I looked over my shoulder at Neil, who watched us with a smirk.

What would he do, I wondered. If he got off on the jealousy aspect, would he punish me later? I hoped that was where this was going.

Beyond the door, the walls were painted black. Black tile covered the floors. Silver sconces emitted clean white light, deepening the shadows around us. Along the hall, white doors with gleaming silver handles stood closed. Neil pointed to one that stood open, and we went inside.

The room wasn’t what I had expected. I guess I’d thought they would be bedrooms or really specific fetish rooms. It was just a small room with a wide, padded bench against one wall. Two chairs were positioned on the other side, a small, round table between them stocked with condoms and individual packets of different types of lubricant. Two large, ornate mirrors in silver frames hung opposite each other on the walls, and I saw myself in my tight black dress, my dark hair gleaming with burnished streaks under the light. I looked like a completely different person.

I had never in my life been in anything even closely resembling a three-way before. I was incredibly nervous, but I trusted Neil to know my comfort level and read my signals. Right now, I was all systems go, but I had no idea how
far
I’d be willing to go.

Luckily, Emir outlined how far
he
was willing to go. He went to the table and took two rubber gloves from the box provided. As he pulled one on, he said, “I would like to use only my hands.”

“By all means,” Neil said easily, settling into one of the chairs. He looked like he was sitting in on a business meeting, he was so cool and casual about the whole thing.

Meanwhile, my heart was absolutely pounding. Emir went to the bench and sat down, patting the seat beside him.

“Go on, Chloe,” Neil directed me.

I could safeword at any time. He could call the whole thing off, as well. I decided that I wasn’t going to keep worrying what he’d think if I went through with it. Neil didn’t play those kinds of mind games. We were in this room because we both wanted to see what would happen. We both wanted this. I really, really wanted it, wanted it so bad that my thighs were sticky.

With a last look to Neil, I sat on the soft bench beside Emir. For a long time, all he did was gaze into my eyes, his mouth bent in an easy smile. Slowly, with his ungloved hand, he stroked the backs of his fingers down my neck. I sat up straighter, unable to look away from him as his eyes traveled the same path as his hand, over my collar bone and into the top of my dress.

Fuck, this was actually happening. Some random stranger was feeling me up in front of my boyfriend. And Neil was watching the whole thing. I couldn’t believe how hot it made me. My legs shifted slightly apart as Emir’s hand cupped my breast beneath my dress. His gloved palm lay on my thigh. I squirmed, trying to draw him closer.

He released my breast, sliding his hand up once more to possessively tighten, ever so slightly, on my throat. Not choking me, but holding me, forcing me straighter up. “Do you like that?”

“Yes,” I moaned. I didn’t call him Sir. That was just for Neil, even if I was submitting to Emir at the moment.

Neil had noticed, I could tell by his half-smile. But he said, “No breath play, please.”

“I can breathe, Sir,” I reassured him.

Emir’s gloved hand slipped further up my thigh. “I can’t wait to touch you,” he purred in his deep, sexy voice.

The tips of his fingers brushed my pubic hair, and I moaned. He took his hand away.

“No, like this. Over my lap,” he urged me, and with some help from him, I found myself positioned with my butt and spread legs lying across his thighs, while my body rested on the bench. He pushed my dress up and snapped on the other latex glove, never taking his eyes from my exposed pussy. “Beautiful.”

There was something bizarrely clinical about the whole thing— maybe it was the gloves—, and that only made it seem naughtier. Before I’d propositioned Neil for no-strings sex, I had always kept up the pretext of a relationship with my partners. I would go on a date, then have sex. Or it would be one of those, “Oh, I asked you over to watch a movie as friends and look what organically occurred!” situations, in which both people knew sex was going to happen, but didn’t admit it openly.

This was all sex. No pretext. I felt more desired than I had ever felt, knowing that.

Neil watched us, leaning back in his chair with one ankle on the opposite knee. In the mirror behind him, I saw Emir’s hands touch me at the same time I registered the feeling. He gently spread me, revealing the tight red nub of my clitoris. One gloved fingertip gently probed me there, and my breath hitched at the contact. Slowly, he slipped his finger down to my vagina and pushed it slightly in.

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