Hope you had a lovely Valentine’s Day!
I wanted to give you an excerpt of something new. I’m not quite sure what this is – maybe a short, maybe a novella, maybe something longer, but it’s the story of a straight-laced young woman who gets involved with a very hot mechanic with a teensy weensy exhibitionist streak…LOL…I’m having fun with it. This started out as my “warm up” pages, the brain dump I start with to get the brain rolling in the morning, but now there’s enough of it that I’ve started thinking about where it’s going.
Here’s the first part. I might put up the first naughty excerpt later this week.
LOTTE CAVENAUGH HADN’T FELT THIS good in years. Of course, it was also the first time that she’d had more than an obligatory glass of champagne at some dour benefit or corporate function in more years than she could remember. And it was her first time in a strip club. She was decidedly tipsy, a bit turned on, and loving every minute of it.
“Look at you,” giggled Alice Feldman as they stumbled out of the club into the cool night air, “A shot of tequila and two lemon drops and you’re three sheets to the wind. You’re such a lightweight.”
Lotte tried to glare at her assistant turned co-conspirator, but that only lead to more giggling, until they were both leaning against the wall outside the club, gasping for breath.
“So what did you think of your first strip club?” asked the curvy redhead, resettling her glasses on her nose, the crystals sparkling from the corners.
She’d switched out her usual frames for glittery cat’s eyes that matched the sequined rubber band of a dress that made her look like a bubbly disco queen. At the office, Alice was the perfect assistant – smart, efficient, and better than an army of bodyguards with laser-equipped pitbulls at keeping the vultures away from her boss. Lotte had hired her in her own fit of rebellion after the last assistant Fred had foisted on her had turned out to be yet another supercilious bottom feeder. Ten minutes into interviewing Alice, Lotte knew they were going to be best friends.
And they were.
Alice took care of her, kept her on track and helped her juggle the myriad responsibilities that came with managing a giant fortune and one of the country’s largest philanthropic organizations. She also spend a serious amount of time reminding Lotte that it was crucial to have a life, and went out of her way to help Lotte have fun.
Which was why they were standing outside a strip club in the middle of the night, drunk on fun and lemon drops.
“Male revue,” said Lotte, and dissolved into giggles again.
“All those lovely muscles,” sighed Alice, “We should have stayed.”
“No way,” retorted Lotte, “A tasteless strip show is one thing. An after hours sex club is something completely different. How did you even find this place?”
“Mama has ways,” she said cryptically.
It had taken Alice a solid week of pleading to get Lotte to venture out on a Friday night to check out an all-male strip show at a downtown club. But three steps in the door, Lotte had been ready to turn around and go home – on every table, every wall was a notice reminding patrons that at 2am, the club shifted from a tame little skin show to something darker, naughtier, and completely out of the realm of what Lotte was comfortable with. Alice finally coaxed her into staying with the promise that they would be out well before the descent into the sexual Wonderland began, and after a couple of drinks, Lotte forgot to be nervous, enjoying the hard bodies and enthusiasm of the audience, even though she wouldn’t have been able to come up with a catcall if she tried. It wasn’t until the lights started flashing, signaling the five-minute warning, that she came to her senses and dragged a protesting Alice out the door.
“I wonder what they’re doing in there?” said Alice, licking her lips suggestively.
“Nothing I need to see,” said Lotte firmly.
I’m not that drunk.
But the question sparked a surprising pulse between Lotte’s thighs.
“Oh, come on, Lotte, when was the last time you got laid? Wait, I can tell you. It was that guy at from the clean water initiative.”
Lotte glared at her friend.
“Keeping track of my sex life is not part of your job, you know. And even if I were going to live out a fantasy with some muscled stranger, it wouldn’t be on stage in club. With an audience.”
“Such a buzz kill. Just think about it, Lotte. Anonymous sex with a guy whose job it is to use his hips to drive you crazy.”
Lotte had to laugh.
“Even if I were interested, Alice, can you imagine what would happen if someone recognized me? I can just see the headline now – Cavanaugh heiress caught in sex club scandal.”
Alice waved her hand dismissively.
“Like you would ever run into anyone you know in there,” she said.
“Why are we even discussing this?” asked Lotte, shrugging on her coat over the simple gray satin sheath she wore – the closest thing to “party clothes” that she owned.
Alice’s phone pinged.
“Sweet! My brother’s having a party at his place. Wanna go hang with impoverished grad students and flirt outrageously over pizza and beer? Don’t look at me like that. Two years ago, those were my people.”
“Pass,” said Lotte, “It’s the middle of the night and I’ve got brunch with Fred and the woman he wants to hire to head up our literacy program.”
“Have you ever heard of sleeping in on a Saturday? Read the comics, play with the dog, have pancakes in bed while you watch cartoons?”
“I’ll take that as a no,” said Alice, shaking her head, “Well, at least you came out tonight. Baby steps. Come on, let’s get a cab.”
Lotte patted her pockets.
“I left my phone inside.”
“I guess we’ll have to go back in and get it.”
Her phone pinged again as Lotte’s entire body froze in horrified realization.
“Bring pizza. And beer. And milk and tacos and toilet paper,” read Alice, “Apparently my brother’s out of grocery money again.”
Lotte grabbed her by a handful of silver sequins and hailed a passing cab.
“Go. I’ll take care of it.”
“You’re going in?” squeaked Alice, and Lotte rolled her eyes.
“I’m going to ask the bouncer to get my phone. I’ll be fine.”
Lotte hugged her friend and pushed her toward the waiting cab.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She waited for Alice’s sparkling form to disappear into the cab before turning determinedly back to the door of the club. It was a few minutes past the hour, and the line at the door was still long, the music thumping from inside.
A sex club, thought Lotte, the very idea making her tense, even as that telltale sensation throbbed between her thighs again.
She’d never seen what the big deal was about sex. Her few boyfriends had been less than memorable, and most of the time, the act wasn’t worth the effort. Men invariably found her frigid and unadventurous, and it seemed like a waste of time to explain that she was just bored. Lotte knew instinctively that she always sought out the same polished, professional type because they were safe – men in her social sphere, men who would never do anything unpredictable, anything that might make her or the family look bad.
Lotte was the last of the Cavanaughs. She’d lost her parents and sister in a plane crash just after her college graduation, and since then, had been highly aware of what the world expected of her. She was a workaholic, determined to maintain the family legacy of using their enormous wealth to make the world a better place. Boyfriends and sex and fun always seemed to take a backseat.
Except of course, for those nights when Alice dragged her out for an adventure – the fairgrounds, a concert, bowling – all those places that normal people took for granted, but seemed like illicit rebellion to Lotte, whose world was all right angles and timetables.
A strip club.
Steeling herself, Lotte stepped up to the bouncer in front of the plain brick building. He was a giant of a man, all in black, and Lotte strove for calm as she cleared her throat.
“Back of the line, lady,” he replied, not looking at her.
“No, sorry. I was just inside. I left my phone…”
The bouncer finally looked at her, looked her over, lingering on her bare legs appreciatively, before moving the velvet rope back.
“Hard to forget those legs,” he grinned, and stepped back to let her in.
“No, that’s not what I – ”
Lotte hesitated, feeling like she was about to fall down some insane sexual rabbit hole.
“In or out, lady,” said the bouncer impatiently.
With a deep breath, Lotte swallowed her nerves and stepped inside.
MARK RAND WAS TIRED. It had been a mistake to agree to the early show. Backstage, he rubbed a thin coat of oil over his arms and chest, groaning as his muscles protested the movement. The full day at the garage dealing with customers and backbreaking work had left him exhausted and tense, and he’d only agreed to perform in the group numbers because Luke had begged him.
Please? Two of my guys are out sick. Then you can have the after-hours spotlight if you want it.
Luke Kay was a hard man to say no to and he knew which buttons to push. Not only did he know that Mark would never leave him in the lurch, but he knew that giving Mark never turned down a chance to indulge his exhibitionist side in the club. It was his preferred form of stress relief and they both knew it.
And so Mark had performed the mainstream routine for the screaming hordes of bachelorettes and girls’ night out revelers with the rest of the guys, counting the minutes.
And now it was time.
Mark felt a hard shiver of lust slide down his spine and up his cock.
He’d stripped at the club on a dare a few years ago, but Luke saw something in him and offered him a few shifts, which turned out to be a great way to make some extra money. Mark didn’t mind the hordes of drunken women ogling him from the audience. For a long time, he’d avoided the late-night club – stripping was one thing, sex in public was another. Luke talked him into staying to watch one night, and Mark was hooked.
He loved everything about it – every lustful act ramped up to a million by the eyes on him. Nothing consensual was off limits and though anyone could watch, Luke was ruthless about screening participating members. It hadn’t taken long for Mark to realize that he’d been waiting for this club his entire sexual life. He liked being watched. He liked the power that surged through him even more than he liked the sex. In fact, though he’d indulged in nearly every sexually adventurous act he could come up with on that stage, in recent weeks, he’d been going solo. Mark wasn’t sure what the problem was, but he’d been increasingly restless, not satisfied with the willing partners who bared themselves for both their pleasure and their audience’s appreciation.
He tensed, thinking about it, and then rolled his shoulders.
After the day he’d had, this performance was going to be so good.