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Jeremy

“You made it!” Maritza, another fling of mine, calls out as I enter the VIP section of Club Paradise.

Normally, this club wouldn’t be my type of scene. It’s for newbies and those who want to pretend they’re in “the life.” I don’t pretend shit. But I’d just landed back in Dallas a few hours ago after having to fire our designer for dragging his ass. So now I need something to help me relax. I knew a few of my old flames would be here, so why not give it a whirl? Maybe I could persuade a couple of them to join me back at the hotel for the rest of the night. Hopefully, that’ll prevent me from dreaming about the woman I promised myself I’d stay away from.

“What you got for me?” I look over at the ebony beauty with brown eyes and dark skin so smooth it looks like it’s glowing. Her skin’s got nothing on LaTasha’s, though.

“It’s been a long time, sir,” Maritza purrs in a way that used to get my cock’s attention. Tonight I don’t feel much for the woman in front of me. I find myself comparing the sharp planes of her petite figure to the rounded curves of another woman.

“Yes, it has,” I respond.

“Would you like a drink, sir?” Maritza questions, falling back into her submissive role as she always does in my presence.

I nod. “You know what I like,” I tell her before sitting on the large round sofa that’s especially for VIP’s.

“Here you are, sir.” Maritza returns with my scotch on the rocks.

“Thank you,” I say as she scoots in next to me on the sofa.

She’s wearing a tight leather dress that’s so short that it barely covers her ass. I half wonder how she was able to make it from the car into the club without giving everyone a peep show. I shrug internally, remembering she is no longer my submissive so she is free to wear whatever she likes. I feel her hand wrap around my upper arm just as Stephanie walks up to us.

She smiles widely. “So you decided to join us after all. I wasn’t sure this scene was interesting enough for you,” she comments.

“I’m here.” I shrug, looking her up and down. I take it her tight leather skirt, off the shoulder, shimmering top and thigh high leather boots. “Sit down.” I motion for her to take a seat on the side of me opposite Maritza.

“This should be an interesting night.” She giggles, looking over at Maritza.

The two women nod at one another. I look between them, contemplating bringing both of them back to my place for the night, before looking out and surveilling the rest of the club. Most women are dressed in either leather skirts or dresses, and the men are rocking leather pants, some in leather vests. The only leather I’m wearing tonight are the cuffs I usually wear out. Otherwise, I’m dressed in a white button up and a pair of tailored dress pants. I can tell most of the men here are pretending to be Doms looking for a sub for the evening. A lot of these men couldn’t be trusted in a real Dom role. I secretly hope none of the women here fall for the bullshit act they’re putting on. An unskilled and unlearned Dom can be dangerous.

The strobe lights make it difficult to make out faces, but I am able to make out a few I recognize. I raise my glass at a couple of subs I know before taking a sip. I let the liquid burn its way down my throat as I sit back, cross my right ankle over my left knee, and throw my arm atop the back of the couch, making myself more comfortable. Stephanie, still seated on my right takes this as a signal to squeeze in closer to me. Although it wasn’t my intention to have my personal space invaded, I don’t move her away. I need the distraction. I smirk at Maritza to my left when I feel her fingers run through my somewhat long hair.

I continue surveying the patrons at the club when the backside of a woman catches my eye. My heart rate quickens slightly, my body telling me what my mind is still trying to figure out. “The hell?” I question, under my breath, waiting for the woman to turn around so I can confirm her identity. The dim lighting in the club make the dress she’s wearing appear black, but I know it’s navy blue. It stops just above her knees and holds the twists and turns of her luscious body the way I want my hands to. I manage to hold myself together until I see a male patron eyeing her like a piece of meat. I don’t give a shit that I too am salivating over her like she’s a perfectly seared, medium-well sirloin. That’s between me, my cock, and that damn dress she’s wearing.

“Would you like another one?”

I completely ignore the question coming from my left as I continue to scope out the scene ahead of me.

“I’ll get you another.”

My brain registers Maritza’s comment, but I make no outward indication of it. I’m too busy trying to tamp down the rising heat in my stomach from seeing her in that dress again. I let my eyes travel down the length of her five-foot-four frame. “Fuck,” I whisper when I see the four inch, black, spiked heels on her feet. My eyelids lower a fraction of an inch when I notice her unsteadiness in those heels as she walks toward the bar. Her awkwardness in those shoes makes me want her even more. Still, I use every bit of resolve I’ve built over the years to remain in my seat. That is, until some wanna-be Dom moves in behind her, feeling on her ass prior to even saying anything to her. That’s mistake number one. You never touch without permission. As soon as I see the uncomfortable look on her face as she turns her head, I’m out of my seat.