Chapter 6

It’s been over a week since I last saw my bed stranger. The man whose name I don’t even know, and yet he knew exactly where I lived and even guessed that my name was false. I think about him often, especially about how stupid I was to let him into my house at all. I don’t know why I did it.

He’s still such a mystery to me that, hopefully, I will never have to deal with again. Because believe it or not, no matter how much I enjoyed him or even had the best sex of my life, I don’t want to see him again. I don’t like the way my guard is down around him. Plus, I don’t ever want to see any of the men I sleep with ever again.

No ifs or buts about it. It’s my rule that I haven’t broken in a very long time, and never plan to again.

Today was just like any other day. I spot Serena working the floor as soon I walk in. I sigh with relief knowing that means I’ll probably be working behind the bar tonight. Not one of my six shifts has had me working the floor, for which I’m thankful.

It’s not too late in the day. The sun still filters light through to the bar, and patrons are slowly wandering in after finishing work.

Serena smiles big when sees me, her teeth as white as the walls, a pixie cut too gorgeous to miss, and with a figure I could only wish for after carrying children. Serena never speaks of the kids’ father, and I don’t think it’s my place to ask about that situation either. As I step up closer to her, she offers me my apron and leans in for a one arm hug as she always does. I smile at her as I pull back, grabbing the apron and wrapping it around my waist.

“Busy?” I ask, looking around.

She shakes her head before she answers me. “No, surprisingly it’s been steady.” Her hands start moving again as she cleans some of the glasses. “I had someone in here…” she looks around then back to me, “… he’s gone. But he asked for you by name.” Serena shrugs her shoulders as her attention diverts back to cleaning.

Picking up a cloth, I start wiping down the bar. “What did he look like?” I ask.

She doesn’t look at me as she answers, “Dark and sexy,” is all she says.

I only know one dark and sexy man, the one from a week ago that I let in way too far. Not asking any more questions, I start cleaning again, trying not to think of him and why he was even here. Why he came back. Because I should care why. I don’t want him back. Especially, when he knows as much as he does—where I live, my real name—and I’m afraid that if he asks for more I will give it to him, I won’t be able to help myself.

***

It’s dark when I arrive back home, my keys are positioned in my fingers ready to open the door. When I step up to my front door, I notice a bouquet of white lilies. I pick them up, turn and throw them as far as possible away from me. They scare me, terrify me, and I don’t want them anywhere near me. My breathing becomes erratic and my vision becomes blurred. Too much anger taking hold of me, as well as fear.

“Admirer?” a voice startles me.

I jump back, placing my hand to my erratically beating heart as it smashes out an uncontrolled rhythm. He’s in the shadows of the night, but I know who it is because of his gravelly penetrating voice—it's dark, just as it was that night I met him. I squint my eyes in an attempt to see him better, with no luck. So, I turn to unlock my house to get away from him—him being here cannot be a good sign.

Why was I so stupid as to let him in, in the first place?

“You can’t come in,” I state, not even bothering to look at him.

Hearing his footsteps come closer as I unlock the door scares me.

“I don’t plan to. I want to take you out, possibly for a late dinner,” he says.

I turn so I can face him, and realize it was a mistake the minute I do so. I should have stayed exactly where I was—unlocking my door and running inside to get as far away from him as possible. As I look up, his violet eyes and his perfect cheekbones and jaw structure stupefy me, and it immediately makes me want to invite him in.

God damn it! I want him to fuck me again.

Knowing what I’m about to do, I don’t step foot inside the house. Instead, I throw my bag through the door keeping my keys on me and shut the door, locking it again.

“I haven’t eaten,” I tell him.

He nods his head and places the palm of his very large hand on my back to guide me away. We start walking, and at first, I think he’s about to take my keys and drive again because that’s what he’d done last time. But instead, he doesn’t veer in the direction of my car. A sleek black Mercedes is parked on the road. He clicks a button on his keys, unlocking it, and opens the passenger door.

“Did you steal this?” I joke with him.

When I don’t get an answer, I turn to see him watching me. His lip quirks up as his head slightly drops to the side.

“Possibly. Now get in.”

I’m not sure if he’s telling me the truth or not. I hope he didn’t steal it, and he isn’t making me get into a stolen car. I mean, it’s not like I haven’t been in them before, I guess, but I thought he was different to the men I grew up around. They all seem to wear masks and are experts at hiding themselves.

I walk past him while he holds the car door open and step into the car. He shuts it behind me, and my hands come together in the middle of my lap waiting for him to slide in. His car is impossibly clean, it smells as though it was just driven from a car dealership. It’s way too pretty for me to be sitting in it.

Looking straight ahead, I watch as he takes us out to the highway, then a few minutes later, takes an exit. He continues to drive past the city to the outer suburbs, where he comes to a stop at what I can only guess is a closed building. He doesn’t say anything as he steps out and walks around to my side of the car, opens the door, and waits for me to get out as well.

I’m still dressed in my black slacks and black T-shirt, nothing fancy and very boring, though when I look around there’s nothing fancy here at all. He takes hold of my sweaty hand and starts to walk. It’s like he knows if he speaks too much he may spook me, and I will run the other way.

We arrive at a large silver barn-style door, and he knocks three times. The door is pulled open by a larger man, not as large as him but could rival him I’m sure. He walks in with me still attached to his hand and stops again at another door. He doesn’t knock on this one, just pulls it open and walks in.

Lights are bright, tables are set around the open area, and people are seated. I glance up to him as he looks around and finds what he’s searching for, then starts to pull me in that direction yet again. As we walk past a table, I take a closer look at it. It’s occupied by a lady and a man, both are dressed strangely. Leather for him with a black vest and black pants. She, on the other hand, is wearing nothing but nipple pasties I look away then look again, not believing what I’m seeing.

She’s basically naked eating her food?

No, she is… she is naked.

What kind of restaurant is this?

More observantly, I look around at the other tables and see they’re all dressed very unusually. No one is dressed as if they’re at a restaurant, yet they all have food in front of them.

He stops, and I slam into his back, too preoccupied looking around. He grunts at me as I take a step back, averting my eyes from everyone else, and notice we don’t have a table like everyone else in the open. Instead, we’re in a corner booth which is very hidden.

He takes a seat and pulls me down to sit next to him. We are sitting right next to each other with our thighs touching. I don’t look at him, my eyes are still glued to the people all around us. Just before I can turn to ask him what kind of place this is, food is placed down in front of us, and not ordinary food that you’d be served at a bar. No, this is five star, the same types of food served that you’d see in movies. My plate is large and white, it looks so empty apart from the single serving of steak sitting in the middle placed on top a bed of potatoes. The sauce is drizzled over it perfectly, making it look like some sort of masterpiece painting.

He doesn’t give me any words as he lifts his knife and starts cutting his steak. So, I do the same, unsure of what’s going on, but hungry because I haven’t eaten since ten this morning. The first bite is delicious and I moan into my mouth.

Holy shit! Who knew steak could taste this good?

I wonder what this all costs.

“How much is this?” I turn to ask him, his eyes are already on me observing me eat. His violet eyes stare at me, as he watches my mouth while finishing the last bite.

“Two-hundred dollars,” he answers matter-of-factly.

If I hadn’t finished that piece of steak, I would have choked on it. Placing my knife and fork back down, I decide I will not eat anymore. Especially not considering that it has cost more than my grocery bill for the whole month—that’s ridiculous.

“Are you rich?” I ask him.

He doesn’t touch his steak again as he sits back further into his seat so he can see me even better. I have to turn my head slightly to see him more clearly. His eyes feel too much, so I look away and around the room again. People are starting to stand, the men are beginning to strip. Turning back to him, his eyes on me and I wonder if he knows what’s happening.

“Where are we?” I ask, staring at him and not looking away this time. His perfect eyebrows are scrunched as he watches me carefully.

“Dinner,” he states, looking around then coming back to stop on me. “You’re overdressed, though,” he says with his hand coming down on my thigh. I look at it then back to him, he’s watching me as always. “So, let’s change that.” He nods for me to stand.

Not having quite worked out why I feel the need to do as he says, I stand with him right behind me and literally the minute I stand, his front is plastered to my back. Taking a step forward, to place some space between us doesn’t work either because he does the exact same thing and follows me step by step, guiding me with his hands on my hips.

The room is quieter now, the people who occupy it no longer sit around naked, eating. Stopping with his hand on my hip, he steps forward in front of me, releasing me, and opening a door. He walks in and looks back at me to follow him. I do, walking into a long corridor with red lights shining down from the ceiling. I hear noises and I can’t quite make them out. The sounds are familiar, I just can’t seem to place them. He stops in front of me and reaches his strong hand up to the wall where there’s a switch, and when he pushes it a light comes on. It illuminates the room so we can see them, just like a two-way mirror.

When I turn, I see people in a room, three of them, fucking. Two men and one woman.
She’s sitting on the man’s lap, and another man is standing in front of her stroking his cock in front of her lips, leaning in for her lips to taste him. The man below her bounces her harder, making it even harder for her to wrap her lips around his cock, but she licks her lips and pokes her tongue out so she can lick the tip while he strokes it.

I watch her reach her climax. It happens right in front of me, there’s only a glass wall separating us. The minute she does, the man standing walks behind her and leans down, he rubs his cock again then places his hand between her legs, stroking her wet pussy taking some of her juices and bringing it back to her ass, lifting her from the man’s lap with his strong hands. She’s still breathing hard as she arches, giving him better access before he pushes her forward, leaning onto the other guy below her as he puts his cock in her.

A hand touches my hip again, but I don’t stop it as it circles around and dips below the waistband of my pants and under my panties—he touches and begins to stroke me. My breathing becomes harder as I stay where I am, watching, with his hands down my panties playing with my clit. Just as I’m about to close my eyes, he flicks me and removes his hand, pulling it away. Turning to face him, I see him licking his lips with a smirk on his face.

“Later,” he says, turning the light off and continuing to walk.

Taking a few deep breaths, I gather up the nerve to ask him, “What is this place?”

He stops again not far from the first window. Looks to me, but this time all sexual energy is gone like it’s evaporated from his eyes.

“Your hell,” is all he says as he flicks on another light.

When I turn my heart stops, my hands sweat, and I know I’m about to pass out.