I STUMBLE THROUGH the door of our apartment, drop my bag, and slip off my Converse before backing up to the couch. There, I fall backward, landing on the cushions with a plop. It’s a nice, brown, ultrasuede sectional we got for an amazing price on Craigslist from a military family who was getting stationed in Germany. The perks of living next to an army base, I guess.
“Ya okay, sis?” Astrid asks from the other end of the L-shape.
My voice is low and monotone. “I mistakenly tried to sell a man a butt plug today when what he really wanted was six five-inch vibrating dildos. The most gorgeous man alive, I might add. Like, so sexy it hurt to look at him. And there I was, a twenty-four-year-old woman who barely knows the difference between massage oil and anal lube, trying to convince him I knew what I was talking about.” I stare at the ceiling, picturing the scene in my head as my humiliation washes over me once again. “Turns out he owns a club and is a regular at the shop. Some kinda master at all things sex, according to my boss. And then, to make things even worse, Roxanne put me on the spot and set me up to learn about everything in the shop from him. ‘Private lessons’ at said gorgeous man’s establishment. What sex toys and dance clubs have to do with each other, I have no clue.”
I feel the cushions behind me tilt and readjust before my sister’s pretty face appears above me, her arms bracing herself on either side of my head as she looks down at me.
“Twy. Are you trying to tell me you’re going in to take lessons from a Dom at a BDSM club?” she asks, her eyes wide.
“No, his name is Seth, not Dom,” I correct her, and she bites her lip before squinting at me.
“Oh, my sweet, nerdy little sister. You really have no clue, do you?” she asks.
My brow furrows as I glare up at her. “What are you talking about?”
“A master of all the products in a sex shop? Who owns a club and gives lessons on said products?” she confirms.
“Yeeeeah?”
“Twy, he’s a Dominant. He owns a BDSM club. Come on, sis. You know, like Christian Grey,” she prompts.
“There’s that name again. Who is that dude? Apparently, my boss says Seth would give him a run for his money. He must be hot.”
She gapes down at me. “Your lack of knowledge in all things pop culture never ceases to amaze me. But this? Sis, really? Christian fucking Grey. The delicious Dom in Fifty Shades of Grey, the global phenomenon. Not only are they books, but they're also movies now. You cannot tell me you’ve never heard of them!”
I remind her, “Astrid. I have no Facebook. No Instagram. No Myspace—”
“Myspace isn’t a thing anymore. I mean, it is, but it’s just for like… music or something,” she cuts in.
“Whatever. I don’t have any of those. I don’t read the newspaper or watch TV, because it’s always bad news that brings me down, and because I never have time. The last movie I saw in the theater was when you forced me to go with you to Disturbia in 2007 during your obsession with Shia Labouef phase.” I pause to take a breath.
“Mmmmm, Shia.” She smiles.
I roll my eyes. “Anyway. So no, big sis, I don’t know who the hell Christian Grey is. While everyone else in the world was evidently reading about some super-hot B-D-whatever-you’re-talking-about Dom dude, I was helping create a new formula for laundry detergent made of all-natural ingredients.”
She plops back onto the couch, and I sit up to face her. “Wait… did you tell them the reason you know nothing about sex toys is not only because you never watch TV or movies, or read, or have any girlfriends who dish their naughty details, but also because you’re a virgin?” she cries.
“How exactly would I have brought that up in conversation? ‘Oh, B-T-Dubs, guys, I know you hired me at your sex shop, Roxy, but I haven’t, in fact, ever had sex!’ I would’ve basically been asking to be fired on the spot!”
“Well, that’s true.” Her face changes into a wicked grin. “That’s all right though. Ana was a virgin for Christian too.” When I give her a blank stare, she giggles. “When do you work next?” she asks.
“Wednesday.”
“Two days. Okay. When are you supposed to meet your hottie?”
“He’s not my hottie, and I don’t know yet. I’ve got to check my e-mail because he’s supposed to tell me where his club is and when he’s available,” I reply.
“Well until then, I’m giving you homework.” She stands and hurries away, disappearing into her bedroom down the hall until she reemerges with her Kindle in hand. “You’re not too busy now. Read the trilogy. And when you’re done, I have several others you can enjoy.”
I take the Kindle from her warily, looking at it as if it might burn me. “I never knew you liked to read.”
She lowers her eyes as her happy face falls. “It’s one of the only things Brandon let me do when I wasn’t allowed to leave the house,” she explains.
My heart sinks to my stomach. I don’t know everything that went on in my sister’s ten-year relationship, but the bits and pieces she told me were enough for me to formulate and execute the entire plan of getting her out of there. It took over a year of convincing her, but finally, even though I hated using guilt as a weapon against her, I put in my resignation and quit my job. After telling her there was no way to get it back because my position had been filled before my last two weeks were complete, she had no choice but to go along with my plan to help her escape. Her guilty conscience would allow for nothing else.
She clears her throat. “So, anyway, you’ve had a rough day, Twy. Go run yourself a bubble bath and start book one,” she orders.
I nod, lumbering up from the couch. “Okay. What do you want to do for dinner?”
“Wanna split a frozen pizza?”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll be out in an hour,” I reply, noticing the smirk on her face. “What?”
“We’ll see about that. I predict no less than three refills of hot water during your bath. It’s that good.” She wiggles her eyebrows, making me smile.
As I circle the couch, I lean down and plant a kiss on top of Astrid’s head before making my way to my room. I grab the pajamas I plan on changing into after my bath, but when I turn to go to the bathroom, my laptop catches my eye. I wonder if Seth has e-mailed me yet. My phone died at work, so I haven’t gotten any notifications if he did. Unable to fight the suspense, I set my clothes and my sister’s Kindle on the bed before grabbing my computer off my nightstand. I hop up on top of my comforter and pull up my Gmail. And there, waiting for me in the inbox is an e-mail from [email protected]
Hello, Doll, it begins, and I smile. I’ve never been called a pet name before, and I kind of like it.
It was such a pleasure meeting you today, and I look forward to our first lesson. According to Roxanne, you have the day off tomorrow, so I figured why wait? Let’s have our first class at 11:00 a.m. The faster I can teach you about the things in the shop, the faster you’ll know what the hell you’re selling. The club closes at 2:00 a.m., so that’ll give me enough time to get a good night’s sleep and to prep. Let me know if this time is good for you. I’ve attached the address and link to Google Maps so you can find the place.
Looking forward to seeing you again.
Seth Owens
My heart skips a beat at the thought of seeing him tomorrow. I mean, I really have no excuse not to. And I do need to get some sort of grasp on the products so I don’t make a fool of myself again. I reply before I can talk myself out of it.
Hi there, Seth,
Yes, 11:00 a.m. is good for me.
I watch the cursor blink for a full minute as I try to think of anything else to say, but I come up blank. I finish it up, deciding the quick response will have to be good enough.
See you tomorrow.
Twyla Quill
I close my computer and slip off my bed, grabbing my pajamas and the Kindle on my way out of my bedroom. I turn on the light in the bathroom and shut the door behind me, placing everything on the closed toilet lid before turning the water faucet on to fill the tub with scalding water. Call me weird, but I like to feel like a boiling lobster while I soak.
I squirt some of my Hello, Gorgeous bubble bath from Bath and Body Works into the water and watch as foam begins to form on the surface. I stand to pull off my black leggings, hot-pink Toys for Twats tee, and finally my underwear and bra, and then carefully step into the tub, holding onto the empty soap dish attached to the wall so I don’t slip. I sigh as I lower into the steaming water, then reach over and grab the Kindle before lying back. I close my eyes and relax while the bathtub fills, and when I feel it reach the bottom of my neck, I turn off the faucet with my foot.
I flip the Kindle over in my hands, trying to figure out how to turn it on. When I finally manage to do that, I go into Astrid’s library, scrolling through the different book covers until I find the one I’ve been assigned to read.
Five hours, three hot water refills, and four slices of pizza in the middle of my bed later, I only have two words, realizing what I’ve gotten myself into with Seth…
Oh my.
“I NEED TO run something past you guys, just to make sure y’all are okay with it,” I announce inside my office at the club, after calling Corbin, Doc, and Bryan into the room.
It’s a rare occasion they’re all here at the same time. We are all a part of Imperium Security, accepting random bodyguard jobs here and there as a cover-up for our real operation. We’re a mercenary team. For a substantial amount of money, someone can hire us to take care of a person… permanently. But we have a code. Someone can’t pay us to murder just anyone. The hit must be a criminal who escaped justice, somebody who hired the right skeezy lawyers and had enough cash that they got away with something horrible. It’s normally the family of a murder victim who hires us. We’ve worked on some pretty high-profile cases, but always make it look like an accident. No way to trace it back to us.
Club Alias was my brainchild. When our team was first formed by Dr. Neil Walker, our resident psychologist, we weren’t sure how much work we would be pulling in. With no way to advertise our real services, relying on the smaller bodyguard jobs and word of mouth for our mercenary work, I wanted a backup plan. If everything fell through for Imperium Security, then I wanted something I knew for sure wouldn’t go under. Sex and booze. They’re two things that are just as certain as death and taxes: even in the worst economy.
“What’s up, man?” Corbin prompts, sliding onto the leather couch against the wall. Bryan sits on the other end, and Doc falls into the leather chair in front of my desk, which I sit behind and pull my reading glasses off, setting them on my computer’s keyboard. I had just finished reading Twyla’s response to my e-mail and caught all the guys before they left for the night.
“Would any of you have a problem with me giving private lessons during nonbusiness hours here at the club?” I ask outright.
One of the things we take pride in is how strict we are with the rules of Club Alias. There’s an entire process of gaining membership, and a hefty yearly fee, ensuring we only allow the most upstanding people into our establishment.
“Is a member unable to attend the regular training sessions or something?” Bryan questions.
“No, this isn’t a member. I, uh… I met a girl at Roxy’s shop,” I confess, looking between all my coworkers. Just as I expected, their faces light with surprise.
“You… met a girl… outside the club?” Corbin inquires.
“I did.” I nod once, meeting his eyes.
“You… Seth Owens… who hasn’t been on a real date since I met you, who rarely even leaves this building except to go to the grocery store and sex shop, met a girl… outside the club?” Corbin clarifies.
“Dude. Yes. Now do you fucking mind if I bring her or not?” I gripe. I’m very well aware of my hermit ways.
Unlike Corbin and Bryan, I don’t actually go on bodyguard jobs and mercenary missions. I’m the computer guru of the operation. The researcher. Anything technical the guys need, that’s when they tag me in.
Doc speaks up, his usual sensible look in place. “I don’t have a problem with it, as long as security cameras are still recording. You want to make sure to protect yourself, Seth, if you plan to be alone with her in one of the playrooms.”
He has a good point. I don’t know anything about Twyla. For all I know, she could call rape in the middle of a lesson, and I’d be unable to prove otherwise, leaving our entire business vulnerable. It wouldn’t be the first time someone lied to get a settlement check from one of us after seeing how much money the club makes from membership fees.
“Agreed. First thing I’ll do is have her sign the consent form to be recorded,” I state, looking over to the guys on the couch.
Corbin chuckles. “I’d tell you to have your private lessons at your place, but ya kinda live here. I second what Doc said. As long as the cameras are rolling, I say go for it.”
I flip him off. “Dude, as I’ve said a million times, the loft was empty, so why the fuck would I pay for another place to live when we already own the damn building?”
He puts his hands up in surrender. “Calm your tits, bro. Just giving you shit.”
That leaves only Bryan, who gives me a stern look as he asks, “Who is this girl, Seth? Why doesn’t she just apply for membership and take the official training sessions?”
“She’s a new employee at Toys for Twats. She has no idea what the fuck she’s selling, but it seems she really needs the job, meaning she doesn’t have the money for membership. I’m half doing it as a favor for one of our members, Roxy, who owns the shop, and half doing it, because….” I fidget in my seat, not wanting to hear any more shit from the guys.
“Because…?” Corbin draws out.
I growl in frustration. “I don’t know, man. She made me feel… weird. And not in the made-my-dick-hard kind of way. Although she did that too. She’s just… different. I don’t know,” I repeat.
Surprisingly, Corbin’s face softens. “That’s a good thing, bro. Very good. It’s about time you felt something outside of lust for a chick.”
I was definitely not expecting that from any of them, but I guess it makes sense coming from Corbin, who is living the good life, happily remarried to the love of his life, Vi, and expecting their first kid.
“In that case, I vote yes as well,” Bryan says, standing and stretching his arms high above his head before letting out a huge yawn. “I gotta get some sleep.” He moves to the door, calling over his shoulder, “Make good choices,” his usual farewell to me, and disappears into the hallway.
Dammit, you play switch for a girl one damn time….
Corbin chuckles before standing to leave too. “I gotta get home to Vi. I ordered her to write four thousand words on her next novel, and let’s just say I’m hoping she didn’t make it. I’ve got a new riding crop I’m wanting to test out.” He grins wickedly.
I laugh as he walks to the door. “How much longer until she pops? Don’t send my bestie into labor, bro.”
“Two months to go. I’ll be gentle,” he promises, and I shoo him out the door. It’s so good to see the man I always knew as an emotionless killing machine so blissfully happy. Makes me wonder if I’ll ever feel that way about a woman.
I face Doc, who’s watching me closely. “Uh-oh.”
“Excuse me?” comes his deep tenor.
“You’re shrinking me. You’ve got your shrinky face on.”
“I don’t have a shrinky face,” he mumbles, lowering his brows.
“You totally have a shrinky face, dude. You feel what your face is like right now? That’s your shrinky face. Now go ahead and tell me what you’re thinking. I know you’re going to whether I want you to or not.” I sit back in my chair and lace my fingers together, resting my hands on top of my abs and my elbows on the armrests.
“Seth, there’s a reason we make all of our potential members go through therapy sessions before they are allowed in the club. You remember that, correct?”
“Yeees,” I drawl. “But she’s not trying to become a member.”
“I’m aware. But I want you to take into consideration the things you want to teach this woman. Do you know anything about her background? Anything about her sexual experience? Have you thought about the fact you might not want to jump into the BDSM stuff like you would with a normal training session? Do you have any idea if she has any triggers? Her limits?” Doc questions, and it makes me pause.
He’s right. I kinda just jumped into this. I’m so used to teaching these classes to people who have already been cleared by Doc during the therapy portion of the club’s application process. With Twyla, I won’t be handed a full report on my student. I won’t know all of her sexual secrets before we begin.
“That’s what I thought,” he says, seeing the realization on my face. “You’re supposed to be teaching her about the products in Roxy’s store, yes?” I nod. “So I would suggest a more hands-off approach. As you get to know her more, maybe the lessons will naturally progress from there.”
I wilt a little, but I know he’s got a point. “Good idea, Doc.”
“Now, I’d like for you to expand on what you meant by she makes you feel ‘weird,’” he tells me.
“And there’s your shrink voice to go along with your shrinky face.” I shift in my seat, but I know I can’t just ignore him. One of the agreements all of us made when we signed on to this club together is we’d have regular sessions with Doc. In our line of work, the mercenary side more specifically, it wouldn’t be safe for us to keep everything all bottled up.
I sigh. Might as well get this over with so I can get to bed sometime soon. “I ran into her at the novelty shop, where she’s a new employee, as I said. She tried to sell me a butt plug thinking it was one of the dildos I was there to buy. I didn’t correct her. That was fun and all because she was cute. But when she couldn’t find the nipple clamps on the list, and then couldn’t answer my simple question about lube, the look on her face….” I shake my head, not understanding the feeling that came over me. “It felt like a gut check to see her disappointment. Like she was mad at herself. And it made me kind of nauseous knowing I was the one to cause her to get that look.”
He nods, looking pensive. After a silent moment, he does his Doc thing. “You don’t get out much, Seth. Corbin was right. The only time you leave this building is to go buy food and to restock the toys for the club. You don’t even own a car.”
“Hey, I own a Harley,” I insert defensively.
“Yes, and as badass as your bike is, even it is very telling. It’s a single-seater. Leaving no potential for someone to ride with you. But you’re not the norm for an introvert. You’re not exactly a loner. You live here, where people come to you. You’re constantly surrounded by your friends, by beautiful women. You have your choice of a different sub every night if you wish.”
“Yeah, so?” I don’t know what he’s getting at.
“Let’s backtrack. It’s been a very long time since we had our initial therapy sessions. And maybe we can discover something that will explain the weird feelings you had with the girl from the shop,” he says.
“Fuck, man. You already know everything about me. Do we really—”
“Yes.” There’s no room for argument in his tone.
“Fine. Where should we start?” I get up, walking over to the leather couch, and sprawl out. I kick my feet up on the armrest as I join my hands behind my head and stare up at the ceiling.
“At the beginning,” comes his vague reply, and I roll my eyes.
“Yeah, yeah. Okay. What do you want from me, bro? How I was a child prodigy? How I graduated from high school at thirteen, and then was so much younger than all my peers all through my college years at MIT? You’ve been my psychologist since I was twenty when you swooped in with this crazy idea for the mercenary team. You’re the one who taught me my urges to dominate weren’t evil. That they sprang from never being around girls my own age, always being seen as their cute little nerd friend who they could use and cheat off.” I don’t like looking back at the first two decades of my life. It may sound really cool to be a real-life genius, but it was actually pretty fucking lonely.
“Let’s revisit what I told you all those years ago, Seth. Your feelings of sadism were healthy in the fact you didn’t actually want to hurt anyone. You wanted to feel in control. You wanted to be respected. You wanted to be heard. You were tired of being taken advantage of, mostly by girls who used the fact that you were going through college during puberty when they were already years into their womanhood. They were using their femininity to get something out of you during vulnerable years when you were maturing into the man you would become.”
“Yeah, Doc. I’ve got all that. So what does that have to do with Twyla?” I know I’m grouchy, but I’m tired as hell and I really just want to go to my loft so I can get some sleep then wake up to see the beauty I made plans with.
“Twyla is the employee from the shop, I assume.”
“Yup.” Her image appears at the forefront of my mind. So sweet. So fucking beautiful.
“She’s unlike the women you’ve submersed yourself in the past five years, yes?” he prompts, and I nod, closing my eyes. “Think of the all the submissives you’ve been with here at the club. Tell me what you see.”
I sigh in frustration, but I give in. The faster I do as he says, the faster I’ll get to bed. “Black leather. Tall stiletto heels. Perfectly made-up faces. All shapes and sizes, but all with an air of confidence that I helped put there for many of them through my training.”
“Now, what do you see when you think of Twyla?”
“Sneakers. Comfortable leggings and a T-shirt. Thick-framed glasses resting on her adorable little nose in the center of her clean face. But she’s even more beautiful than any of the girls at the club who put in hours of primping. Yet there’s no air of confidence. She’s unsure. Seems vulnerable somehow,” I list quietly, really thinking about her first impression.
“What do we always say about submissives?” he asks, more like a reminder.
“Submissives are the ones who are actually in control of a scene. They have the power to call out their safe word and end a sexual act. The Dom has no choice but to end it because the sub is the one allowing the domination,” I recite.
“It sounds to me like Twyla’s vulnerability spoke to you. You didn’t like her feeling disappointed in herself. And you didn’t like sensing you were the one who made her feel that way. As much as you like to dominate and feel respected, you also like making submissives feel their potential power. You’re a good person, Seth. You like lifting people up. By offering to teach Twyla about the things at the shop, you are giving her a sense of power through knowledge,” he explains, and it makes sense. Yet…
“But that doesn’t explain why she made me feel weird.”
“Well, I thought that’d be obvious. It’s the first time you’ve gotten the urge to empower someone outside the club. You’re not wanting to give her sexual power. You’re wanting to give her strength to use in the real world. And there also might be more to it than that as well.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, turning to look at him. He’s sitting comfortably in the leather chair in front of my desk.
“Something unexplainable. Look at Corbin and Vi. Would you say there is some unexplainable draw between the two of them, something that can’t be broken down into exact reasons why they just… fit?”
I stare back up at the ceiling, thinking of my best friend and his wife. It’s true. You can’t put your finger on it. But for some reason, there’s no doubt the two are meant to be together. They complete each other. Soul mates. And they claim they felt it the moment they met.
“And with that, I’ll let you get to bed. Seems you’ve got an exciting day ahead of you,” Doc says, patting my elbow as he passes me on his way out the door.