I suppose no amount of hair and make-up or lingerie was going to erase the anxiety I feel now that I’m at the club. My hair is curled and pulled back, and I used some long forgotten shimmer spray I found in my vanity that makes my blonde hair just a little brighter. My lips are dark, and my eyes are too, making them smoky and mysterious inside the mask. I’m wrapped inside a trench coat I haven’t worn in years. Arizona rarely has weather that requires a trench coat, but I’m glad I have it because it’s the only way I was getting out of the house. I’m sure that the club has some place where people can dress, but it felt weird.

I take a deep breath and exit the car, and approach the door. The guy at the door is maybe the tallest guy I’ve ever seen, and I have no doubt that he could take someone down, but he seems friendly. “Can I see your ticket?” I show him the ticket on my phone. “The party is downstairs. Welcome to Club Deep.”

“Thanks,” I say, but then I pause. “Actually, I was wondering something. I ran into a guy today, he’s the one who told me about the party. Is there a way to find out if he’s here?”

“What’s his name?”

I swallow. “Hudson Carlisle.”

He looks surprised. “Yeah, I can check. What’s your name?”

“Christine Everett. Or if that doesn’t ring a bell you can say the girl who spilled coffee on him.”

He turns away and mumbles into a radio which must be in his ear. It’s only a minute or so before he turns around smiling, “If you’d wait at the main bar, Mr. Carlisle will join you in a few minutes. He’ll be available soon.”

Wow. “Is he some kind of V.I.P. here?”

“You could say that,” the guard answers and opens the door for me, but he doesn’t say anything else.

Inside there’s a wide staircase that leads down to what sounds like club music and a crowd, but right here there’s a coat check. Moment of truth I suppose. I walk over, and a pretty girl takes my coat and purse. I pull out the mask and put it on, and she gives me a wristband for my coat. That’s nice, most clubs—the few I’ve been to anyway—have paper stubs and you usually have to stow them in your bra.

I take a deep breath as I go down the stairs. I’m really doing this. I am.

It’s both everything I expected and not what I expected at all. The huge open space I walk into is filled with people in various states of undress and tons of costumes—everything from actual Wonder Woman to a man walking around in a red latex body suit with a pitchfork. Caged dancers in angel costumes hang from the ceiling around the room. The music is sensual and everyone seems to be moving in that way that speaks of sex in the air. Speaking of sex, that’s happening too. All around the room on brightly lit stages, people are just doing it right out in the open.

I know that I’m blushing, but the scenes around me are turning me on. It’s been so long that seeing other people have sex gets me going. There’s a woman dressed like Wonder Woman sitting on a throne while a man grovels naked at her feet. His mouth is so close to being in-between her legs, and god, it’s been so long since I’ve had that I feel a pull towards that stage. Until today, I hadn’t really noticed my lack of sex. Work seemed like enough. But since running into Hudson this morning my body is craving it. Being surrounded by people lost in pleasure isn’t helping to cool me down.

On another stage a woman is strapped naked to a large wooden X. The man with her is touching her, stroking down her back and reaching around to grope her breasts before taking her from behind. The woman’s head falls back in pleasure and I can see the way she’s clinging to her restraints—everything about it says that she wants more.

My body is suddenly uncomfortably hot, and there’s moisture pooling between my legs. I look away from the scene, unsure what to do with my reaction to it. I could use a drink. Besides, I’m supposed to be heading for the bar anyway, right?

There are multiple bars around the dance floor, but it’s obvious which one people would consider the main bar. It’s double the size of the others, practically dominating the space. A female bartender catches my eye as I approach, and I shake my head. I’m thirsty, but if Hudson really is going to meet me here, then I want to wait before I have a drink. I lean my back against the bar, taking in everything that’s happening. I wasn’t wrong, this is fascinating. My eyes wander back to the woman on the X who’s still being fucked. The way she’s at once so vulnerable but also loving everything, it’s intense and amazing to watch.

“Wow.” A voice comes from my left. Not Hudson’s voice—I don’t I think I could forget that if I tried.

I glance to my left to find a man dressed like a cowboy. Leather pants and a vest, showing a chest that’s so muscled I wonder if he’s a body builder. A glance down tells me that those letter pants have no ass. He doesn’t have a mask, but then again, they weren’t required. “What are you dressed as?” he asks.

“It doesn’t have a name.”

“It should. Maybe I can come up with a name for it.”

I give him a small smile. “That’s all right. I think it’s better if it’s left to the imagination.”

He steps closer. “Girl, there isn’t anything left to the imagination in that.”

Until he said that, he seemed fine. But now I don’t like how close he is to me. I shift away from him, but he follows. I can smell alcohol on him, and I’m inwardly rolling my eyes. It’s barely eleven. Of course there’s already drunk guys like this in here. I suppose all clubs have some like this, though it’s never fun.

“What do you say we go upstairs to the fantasy room, we can play with that imagination you were talking about.”

“No thank you,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’m waiting for someone.”

He laughs. “Well if you’re waiting for him, then he’s not here. Seems like you’re free to me. Don’t know why anyone would leave a hot thing like you waiting.” He wraps his arm around my waist. “I promise I’m more fun anyway.”

My body is in complete lockdown. “Take your hands off me. Now.”

“Come on, baby, I’m just trying to show you a good time.” He pulls my body against his, and I can feel his obvious erection and I’m overwhelmed by the smell of vodka as he gets in my face. “Who are you waiting for that could be better than what I’ve got?” He tips his hips into mine and I cringe.

I don’t know how to get out of this. “Please leave me alone.”

“Baby, you are going to be so glad that you didn’t wait for that other guy. I promise.”

“No, I’m not,” I say. “What part of ‘leave me alone’ did you not get?” I’m really tired of him touching me.

I push against his chest but that makes him hold me tighter. “What is it with you bitches who keep trying to get rid of guys who just want to show you a good time? I bet you’re not even waiting for anyone, just being a fucking bitch.”

A hand lands on cowboy’s shoulder. “Actually, I believe she’s waiting for me.”

There. That voice. That’s Hudson. Somehow I forgot how tall he was even though it’s only been a few hours. He yanks the cowboy away from me and makes it look easy. He nods his head towards the back of the bar and suddenly a security guard is there. “Escort him out. Make sure you get his name and photo for the ban list.”

“You’re banning me?” The cowboy explodes, causing the people around us to look. Apparently wherever I go I cause scenes that make people curious. “Why?”

Hudson smiles that small, amused, smile that I saw this morning. “If you’re here you know the rules. Zero-tolerance. No means no. I think it’s pretty clear that the lady was saying no. I was standing there long enough to see you ignore her wishes more than once.”

The cowboy looks at me, mouth gaping, like I’m going to defend him. Like he thinks that this accusation is somehow ridiculous. Instead, I shrug. “I told you to stop. You didn’t. Bye now.”

I hear Hudson chuckle, though I think it’s low enough that only I hear it. Cowboy is still gaping as the security guard drags him across the dance floor. Watching him leave, ass-less pants weren’t a good choice on him. I’m sure that some women rejected him on that alone.

Hudson leans on the bar next to me, keeping a careful distance. “Are you all right?”

“It seems like you keep having to ask me that.”

He smiles. “I don’t mind, so long as you are all right.”

“I think so,” I say. “But I’m glad that you have excellent timing.” I take a moment to absorb him. He’s wearing all black, a button down and pants. And he’s wearing a simple black mask like mine. Though I don’t think anyone would have trouble picking him out even if he were wearing an obvious costume.

“I’m sorry that happened,” he says, sighing. “We really try to keep the atmosphere here safe and positive. Some bad apples always manage to slip through.”

I take a deep breath, my body relaxing, my instincts telling me that I’m safe now. “It’s not your fault. Creeps are always creeps. Though it’s nice to know he won’t ever be coming back.”

“He won’t.” His voice is all certainty.

“Good,” I say. “And I think you offered to buy me a drink this morning?”

I can see his eyes crinkle with his smile behind the mask. “I did, and seeing that you’re in my club, and you just had an unpleasant experience, I insist.”

“Wait, what? You’re the owner?” That’s why the bouncer upstairs said he was a V.I.P. And also why security came over instantly. Holy crap.

Hudson gestures for the bartender. “I’m one of them, yes. I share the ownership with two close friends.” He orders a beer and I order a martini. It’s been a while since I’ve had one, and why not.

“Well, shit. No wonder you couldn’t come out for dinner.”

“Yeah,” he says. “It might have looked bad if I hadn’t shown up to our own party.”

“Even though you’re not really in costume.”

“Neither are you,” he says, his eyes drawing down my body all the way to my toes. It has the opposite effect of the cowboy. My body heats the same way it did watching that couple on the stage, and I lean back further on the bar, letting the robe slip open a little bit more. Dressed in this costume, I feel like I can be the kind of woman that deserves him.

“I don’t know. This just seemed right.”

“Believe me,” he says, taking a sip of his beer. “I’m not complaining.”

I take a sip of my martini, and for a moment I feel like I’m looking at myself through someone else’s eyes. Decked out in an outrageous outfit, perched against a bar with the hottest man I’ve ever seen, drinking a cocktail. How is this my life? That little tagline from the business card and the website pops into my head. Be who you really are. Is this who I really am? I have no idea, but it doesn’t hurt to find out, just for the night. For tonight, I can be…somebody else. A woman of mystery who isn’t a boring girl who spends most of her evenings watching TV and editing pictures. It feels good to let that go for a bit. My heart rate spikes. I can be whoever I want.

“So how does someone own a sex club? It’s not something you find at most career days.”

He smiles that small smile, and I wonder what it might be like to feel that smile against my lips. “No, it’s not. Unfortunately, it’s not as interesting a story as you might think. My friends and I wanted a place where we could be ourselves when it came to sex—whatever that meant. And every club we went to seemed too restrictive. So we started our own. As long as something is consensual and not illegal, you’ll probably be able to find it here.”

“I can see why it’s so popular.” I shift my weight closer to him. It’s not much, but he notices.

“Would you like a tour?”

Something about the way he says it makes me think that a tour isn’t all he has in mind, but that’s fine with me. “Sure.” I tip the rest of my drink back and let him take my hand and draw me across the club. We climb the stairs to the second floor, and I try not to let my jaw gape at what I see. There were pictures of the theme rooms on the website, but seeing them with people is a very different experience. The orgy room is so filled with limbs and bodies that it’s hard to see where one person ends and another begins. My eyes are drawn to a man whose head is between a woman’s legs, and that same woman has someone else’s cock in her mouth. I feel that wetness gather between my legs again even though Hudson pulls me past the room. We see a woman dressed like a secretary in a staged office. I guess she got the memo all wrong because her boss is spanking her. There’s a room that looks like a meadow with what looks like a castle tower in the background.

“This is our newest room. It seems to be popular.”

Two people are having sex on the ground in the false woods, medieval costumes in piles around them. “I suppose the damsel in distress fantasy is something a lot of people have.”

“What about you?” he asks.

“I don’t really have fantasies.”

Still holding my hand, he draws me closer until I’m pressed lightly against his side. “I don’t believe that for a second. Everybody has fantasies.”

I press my lips together to keep from laughing. “I don’t think so.” I’m not lying, I’ve never had one fantasy that really gets me off. Yet another aspect of me that’s thoroughly average and mostly boring.

Hudson leans closer until I think he might kiss me, but he doesn’t. His face is so close to mine that I can taste his breath, and it’s sweet. “Well, maybe we’ll have to find out for sure.”

“Is that a service you provide here at Club Deep?” I ask, a little breathlessly.

“Most people come here knowing exactly what they want. So helping someone explore that is gratifying.”

I let myself lean into him, “You didn’t answer the question.”

“It’s not a service we provide, but it’s something I’m more than willing to do for you.”

My breath stills in my chest, and it feels like time stands still. If I were just me right now, this would terrify me. But I’m not me. I’m a woman of mystery at a party, and this is everything I’ve wanted. “I think I’d like that.”

His smile is slow and sensual. “Come on, the thing really worth seeing is this way.” Just beyond us, at the end of the balcony, is a thick velvet curtain that I didn’t notice. And I let him pull me through into a different world.