Chapter Twenty
Robyn
Later that evening, after a delicious tapas dinner and a change of clothes – I was in a low-cut black dress and heels, and Oliver was now back to his standard killer three-piece suit – he guided me through the warm evening past various restaurants and bars until we came to a cobbled square. We were surrounded by stunning architecture on all sides, but on the opposite side to us was the most dramatic of all – a huge Gothic stone building, complete with turrets, and decorated with flags and bright banners proclaiming the name Fantasias Traviesas. Barcelona’s very own version of Club Twist, and our destination for the night. If it was half as impressive inside as it was out here, then this was set to be a pretty phenomenal evening.
‘People travel from all over for this place. Let’s see what you think of it compared to Club Twist,’ Oliver said with a grin as he approached the frontage, which was painted in bright scarlet paint.
Visually, it was bolder than Club Twist. The London club was discreetly hidden behind its façade of a disused theatre, but this place was screaming its identity loud and proud for all to see.
The main doors were open, and people were milling about at the entrance, all dressed to impress and clearly already enjoying their evenings. Before we reached the crowd, Oliver paused and looked down at me intently. ‘Remember what I said about the clientele here, yes?’
How could I forget? Passionate, and likely to make a move on me if I didn’t make it obvious that I was with him. Nodding, I swallowed down a ball of nerves and made the first move this time, by taking hold of his hand in mine.
Oliver’s gaze dipped to where my fingers were now intertwined with his. He shared a heated glance with me and nodded his approval before leading me to the entrance. He had a brief conversation in Spanish with the suited man on the door, and after an obviously warm welcome and hefty handshake, the internal doors were opened for us as we were granted access.
Immediately I was swamped by similar sensations to the ones I had when entering Club Twist; dimness enfolded us into the comfortable sense of anonymity, and the heavy beat of the music flooded my veins like an infectious substance, making me feel I could throw my body around the dance floor, safe in the knowledge that no one knew me, or cared who I was.
I didn’t, though. I gripped Oliver’s hand, and allowed him to lead the way to the bar, which was illuminated by red neon bulbs, and clung to the entirety of the right-hand wall. There must have been at least six bartenders on duty, but they were all busy, so it obviously wasn’t overkill.
Glancing around, I realised for the first time that this place was substantially larger than Club Twist. There was a dance floor dominating the ground floor that would rival a basketball court in its size, but as well as that, there were balconies running around the edge of the room on at least two further levels above us, all packed with dancers, indicating that this place occupied at least three floors.
As Oliver was finishing with our drinks order, he handed me my wine and grinned at a man approaching us. Turning, I watched as he embraced the tall, dark-headed stranger, giving the local greeting of a kiss to each cheek, before also exchanging a handshake and speaking some rapid-fire Spanish which I couldn’t keep up with. I may not have understood the words, but the easy familiarity these two shared made it obvious they were good friends.
As soon as Oliver was back at my side he retook hold of my hand, a move which wasn’t missed by his acquaintance, who gave our entwined hands a long look then raised an eyebrow in an amused glance towards Oliver.
‘Well, well, I don’t believe this has ever occurred before, my friend. I think introductions are in order, no?’ His English was good, but spoken with a thick undertone of Spanish to it, and with his accompanying tan I could only assume he was a local. He was handsome, too, with dark green eyes, a square jaw, and long hair that curled at the nape of his neck.
‘Matías, this is Robyn, my guest,’ Oliver said, giving a wave of his free hand between us. ‘Robyn, this is Matías. He’s the owner of this place, one of my best friends, and a complete rogue. Watch yourself around him.’ The warning was spoken in jest, but as I looked again at Matías and took in just how confident he seemed in his own skin, I decided that “rogue” wasn’t far wrong. He was no doubt well aware of his good looks, and probably made full use of the fact that he owned a sex club by seducing countless women who walked through his doors.
The fact that the exact same comparison could be made with Oliver suddenly occurred to me, and I felt vaguely sick. He’d said he didn’t play with the customers at Club Twist, but was that true? And if it was, then was he getting some action elsewhere, because I got the sense that he was an incredibly sexual man, and he certainly wasn’t getting anything from me.
A sour tang of jealousy slicked across my tongue but, luckily, I was distracted from dwelling on the unpleasant thoughts by the feel of warm fingers taking hold of my free hand and lifting it. Barely a second later, Matías had my knuckles pressed to his lips as he gave my hand a very thorough kiss, his lips lingering for far longer than was necessary as they trailed along every bump and ridge of my knuckles. ‘Beautiful Robyn, it is a pleasure to meet you.’
Blimey. Talk about over the top.
Oliver stepped forwards, and pushed his friend away from me with a low grumble. ‘Matías, enough,’ he growled, his warning clear in the lowering of his tone, and backed up by the squaring of his shoulders.
Matías seemed completely unfazed by Oliver’s bristling tension, remaining relaxed and tucking his hands into his trouser pockets as he ran his gaze down my body and back up again. It was as if I was being inspected for sale, and I didn’t like it one bit. If this was what Oliver had meant about the locals being forward, then I would definitely be gluing myself to his side for the remainder of the night.
‘Relax, my friend.’ Matías chuckled, giving Oliver a sturdy pat on the shoulder. ‘I was just checking if sharing might be an option. But I see from your face that perhaps it is not.’
‘No, it definitely is not,’ Oliver confirmed shortly, dropping my hand and sliding his arm around waist and pulling me firmly into the loop of his arm.
Sharing? My eyes widened at the implications of his words, and I briefly wondered if he and Oliver had “shared” women in the past. It wasn’t an image I wanted to dwell on for too long.
Laughing, Matías crossed his arms. He looked well and truly amused by something as his gaze moved from Oliver to mine. ‘I am laughing, because my dear friend Oliver is never like this.’ He pronounced his name as “Olive-ee-air”, his tongue rolling around the name and making it sound so much more exotic. He leaned in conspiratorially. ‘The word I need, it is …’ He paused for a second, a frown briefly crossing his brows as he thought, then he grinned. ‘Possessive. It is both surprising, and quite refreshing to see him acting in this manner.’
Possessive. Over me. And I was supposedly just his “friend”.
‘Although with a young beauty like you by his side, I can understand why. If you were on my arm, I would no doubt feel the same.’ Matías crooked his arm and offered it to me with a grin, and even though I could tell he was joking, I felt Oliver’s arm around my waist tighten considerably.
‘Don’t push your luck, Matías.’ Oliver warned again, his tone light, but holding an undercurrent of steel.
Well, this was very interesting. It also made what I was thinking of suggesting during this trip a little less embarrassing to contemplate, because if Oliver was acting this possessively over me, then surely he saw me as more than just a friend? Or was he simply doing as he promised, and protecting me from the advances of others?
Glancing up at Oliver, I saw him giving his friend an amused glance, then a slight shake of his head. ‘Good to see you, too, Matías, even if you are as irritating as ever.’
Matías grinned, told the bar staff to make sure our drinks were on the house all evening, then left us to it, promising to see us again later in the evening.
Oliver gave me a quick tour of the club, seeming to have access behind the scenes, too, then got us some seats in the VIP area overlooking the dance floor.
It was very much like Club Twist; people were dancing below us, just like a normal nightclub, but if I leant to the side slightly, I could see two small stages containing sex shows. On one was a woman performing a simple striptease, and on the other a man was receiving a rather competent blow job from a blonde-haired woman as another girl writhed about on his face, seeking her own pleasure. I watched in aroused interest for a moment or two, before sitting back and laughing at how this type of sight no longer shocked me.
Luckily, Oliver had been distracted ordering drinks from a waiter, and so hadn’t seen my interest in the sex shows, otherwise I would no doubt be subject to a flurry of teasing and suggestive comments. Once our drinks arrived, we sat back, sipping the cool white wine and both watching what was going on around us. Just as I found myself relaxing into his company, Oliver turned in his seat and landed me with one of his penetrating stares. I still had no idea quite how he managed to pour so much intensity into these looks, but God, he really did. Even his posture managed to show how focused he was on me, and I found myself holding my breath as I waited for whatever statement or question he was about to throw at me.
‘So, I know you’re single, but tell me about your past lovers.’
My eyes widened, and a lump of nerves formed in my throat that felt like I’d swallowed a tennis ball. My past lovers? Really? God. This was not a subject I was comfortable discussing. I struggled to talk about this type of thing with Chloe and Sasha, let alone Oliver.
Tilting his head, Oliver observed me with a small smile. ‘Have I been too blunt again?’ He didn’t look at all embarrassed at all about his line of questioning.
‘Uh, yeah, a little. I’m British, we’re kinda reserved when it comes to subjects like this.’
Oliver indicated around us with a sweep of his arm and then smiled at me. ‘Ah, but we’re in Spain now, Robyn, and we have no such issues. What’s the cause for embarrassment? It’s just sex. Yes?’
Just sex.
Sex, which I had always found unsatisfying and fumbled. ‘Um. Yeah, I guess.’
Oliver didn’t say anything further, but from the gaze he was giving me, he definitely expected an answer. Pulling in a long sigh, I fiddled with the hem of my dress and gave a casual shrug. ‘I’ve dated a few guys over the years, but, you know, nothing serious.’
‘A few?’ Oliver queried, clearly wanting a precise number. I suspected mine would be way smaller than his but, luckily, I wasn’t going to be asking how many lovers he’d had – we were still at the “just friends” phase, so it didn’t really seem appropriate. Not for me, anyway, but clearly Oliver had no such issues with his personal questions.
‘Five,’ I blurted out, immediately taking a giant swig of my drink to cover my self-consciousness.
‘Just five?’ he murmured, sounding surprised.
I nodded, my eyes darting around as I did everything within my power to try to avoid his curious gaze.
‘And all vanilla?’
How could he be so casual discussing this? This was mortifying. ‘Hmm. Yes.’
He absorbed this information with a small nod and a marginal narrowing of his eyes, as if he were slightly irritated by the thought of my past boyfriends, but I must have misread it, because that surely couldn’t be the case.
I finally plucked up the courage to meet his eyes, and as I strayed over his handsome features I wondered again how many lovers he’d had during his life. My stomach churned at the thought. It would make me way too jealous, not to mention self-conscious, to try to compare myself to them.
Seeing as he had broached such personal subjects, I might however, find out a little more about why he didn’t date.
‘So, um, you said before that you don’t date, does that mean you never have?’
Oliver raised an eyebrow at me in apparent amusement, then nodded. ‘A fair question. I used to date, yes.’ Was that all he was going to give me? I’d disclosed the number of people I’d slept with; I thought it was only fair that he gave me a bit more than that!
‘But not any more?’ I pushed.
Oliver sighed, but relented. ‘No. When I was a teenager I dated a little. I had a fairly serious relationship with a girl called Abi when I was eighteen, but we had certain … issues … and spilt up. I haven’t dated since.’
‘Issues?’ I asked, curious now as to what could have occurred between them to put him off dating for life.
‘Yes.’ The intensity of his stare, combined with the sharp tone, made it crystal clear that I wasn’t going to be getting any more information from him on that particular subject. We didn’t know each other well enough yet for me to feel comfortable with prying any further, so I left it, and luckily Oliver chose to fill the tense silence buy continuing his history. ‘I met Alex at a party about a year later.’
He said the name as if I knew who he was talking about, but I didn’t. ‘Alex?’
Oliver raised an eyebrow and gave a thin smile. ‘Alexandra. You met her briefly when we were in the bar next to Club Twist. One of the part-owners.’
Oh – that Alex. The blonde ice queen who had given me such a vicious glare. I had a sudden suspicion that I wasn’t going to like the words that came from his lips next.
‘I hadn’t dated since the breakup with Abi, but I’d slept around a bit in between, like all guys that age do if they get the chance. Alex was older than me, and rather persistent. I ended up going home with her.’
Boom. He’d slept with her. I bloody well knew it!
A sickening feeling landed in my stomach like a lead weight, and I struggled not to let the jealousy show on my face as I drew in several shallow breaths through my teeth.
‘I didn’t realise it at the time, but it turned out she and I had a common need for control in the bedroom. I was just discovering my love of domination and control, so we still messed about that night, but I knew immediately that we weren’t compatible and that nothing could come of it.’ Oliver ran a hand through his hair, completely oblivious to just how much the idea of him “messing around” with the beautiful Alex was upsetting me.
‘She had other plans, however. When I said no to seeing her again she suggested that I join Club Twist. I did, and she’s made various moves on me over the years. Since I was young and single, I used the club to meet partners, much to Alex’s irritation.’ He chuckled. ‘It allowed me a freedom I hadn’t experienced before, so I continued with the no-dating thing. But when David asked me to take over the accounts and join the ownership team I stopped mixing with the clients.’
She’s made various moves on him? Does that mean he still sleeps with her when it’s convenient? Or does he turn her down?
‘I thought she had a partner? Joshua? How come she still tries it on with you?’
Oliver seemed amused by my interest, and as much as it might be giving away my jealousy, I still wanted to know. ‘She is with Joshua, but their relationship is what you might term as “very open”. They both sleep with other people.’
Oh. My face must have fallen at that news, because Oliver threw his head back and openly laughed at me, then leaned across to give my hand a brief squeeze.
‘Don’t look so horrified, Robyn. If it concerns you, you should know that it was a one-time thing, I have never slept with her again.’ Oliver tilted his head to the side as if considering something and drew in a long breath. ‘I know you are still undecided about how our future will play out, but it may interest you to know that you are the first woman I have spent time with like this since Abi.’
Wow. As simple as his words were, I felt ridiculously pleased by them.
I might not know much about Abi and his past with her, but all in all, it had been quite an enlightening night.