The breaking point, p.11
The Breaking Point, page 11
With the address in hand, I went to a nearby lingerie store to find something to wear. I’d heard enough about Mac’s exploits to know that this club wasn’t one where you just went inside wearing jeans and a T-shirt. I got changed before I left the store. I’m glad that I’d worn my trench coat to work today since it was always freezing in the air conditioning.
I picked out a bra and panty set that was red and lacy, something I’d never worn before. What the hell am I doing?
I was doing research. That was all. There was no other reason that I was trying to learn why Brady wanted to spend his time at a sex club instead of with me.
I drove to the address, but when I got there, I wondered whether I’d gotten the address wrong. On the corner was a nondescript office building that seemed to house a marketing company and not much else.
I parked my car and frowned. I sat and watched, pondering my next move, when I saw a few people go to an unmarked door and knock.
A large man answered. And then the couple were ushered inside, the door shutting quickly behind them.
I knew I couldn’t hesitate. I went near the unmarked door and hid behind a dumpster, waiting for someone else to arrive.
I was about to give up when a lone man arrived.
“Password?” the door guy asked after the single guy knocked.
“Pineapple,” the man said.
I waited until the lone guy went inside. Then, with my heart racing, I decided to try my luck.
When the door guy answered my knock, I didn’t even wait for him to ask me for a password.
“Pineapple!” I squeaked.
The door guy narrowed his eyes at me. Then, to my utter astonishment, he let me inside.
I couldn’t believe it. As another man escorted me down a long hallway, I half expected someone to jump from the shadows and demand why I was there.
And then I was inside the club: the Scarlet Rope.
The difference between the hallway and the club itself was stark. The club was dimly lit, but as luxurious as the rest of the building was nondescript. The foyer had a chandelier straight out of a fairy tale. There were velvet settees and couches scattered about.
And there were all kinds of people, some dressed in next to nothing, while others were in suits or slinky gowns. Many patrons wore masks. When I came inside still wearing my trench coat, I felt strangely exposed.
“Your coat, madam,” a man said to me.
I blinked. Then, with shaking hands, I handed him my coat, clad only in the red lingerie I’d just purchased.
Nobody seemed concerned about my near nudity. I caught a few people—men and women both—shooting me appreciative glances, but that was it.
I was grateful for how warm the club was. It’d have to be, given how scantily dressed everyone was.
I took a deep breath. I’d come this far. I couldn’t lose my nerve now.
I considered getting a drink but then thought better of it. I wanted to keep my wits about me. I had no idea what really went down in this place and needed to be careful.
“I’ve never seen you around before,” a woman remarked.
She was wearing a thong and nothing else. Her breasts were large, the areolas sparkling in the low light. I realized that she’d put glitter all over her torso.
“Um, it’s my first night,” I stammered.
The woman smiled, her teeth flashing. “Oh, I can tell a virgin when I see one.”
I flushed. She could tell that just by looking at me? But then I realized she just meant I was a virgin for coming to the club.
“A word of advice,” the woman said. “Be choosy. You don’t have to say yes to the first person who talks to you. I didn’t let anyone touch me during my first three visits. Scope things out. Take your time. There’s no rush.”
I thanked her for her advice, not wanting to admit that I had zero intention of letting anybody touch me.
I didn’t even know where I’d start, for one. How did I just go up to a person and ask them to have sex with me? The mere thought almost made me laugh out loud.
I was a good girl. I didn’t have sex with strangers. Hell, I didn’t have sex at all! I was still a virgin at the ripe age of twenty-two. I hadn’t even wanted to sleep with Will, my ex-boyfriend.
You know why you’ve been saving yourself. But I pushed that thought aside. Brady had already told me in no uncertain terms that nothing could ever happen between us.
I was soon arrested by everything happening around me. The Scarlet Rope was unlike anything I could’ve imagined. I thought it was maybe some sleazy basement dungeon, but it was . . . classy.
The nudity, the sex, the air of mystery and desire. It all gathered together to create this aura that I found fascinating, even if I wasn’t brave enough to embrace it for myself.
As I passed through one of the main hallways, I was able to watch some of the scenes that anyone in the club could also view. The scenes ranged from straightforward, penis-in-vagina sex to BDSM to orgies to roleplay.
One scene had six participants, three men and three women. The women seemed to be the Dommes in this scenario. They each were equipped with whips that they used liberally on their subs. The men were on their knees, begging for more, the dominatrices giving their subs catlike smiles.
One Domme yanked on her sub’s hair so hard that it wrenched his head back.
I couldn’t quite make out what anyone was saying, but it didn’t really matter. You could see what they wanted on their faces and the way they moved their bodies.
Another Domme pushed her sub forward into her pussy. He began lapping at her as her head went back in ecstasy.
I blushed to the roots of my hair. I was probably as red as the lingerie I’d impulsively bought.
I kept wandering. The next scene was two men. One man was bent over the arm of a plush couch, while his partner pounded into him. The sounds of the slaps of flesh against flesh made the hair on the back of my neck stand.
It was mesmerizing. I’d never seen people so unabashed in their sexuality. It made me wonder how they could become so open about something I was still trying to understand about myself.
I also wondered whether Brady was the type to be a part of these scenes. Did he like when others watched him? Or did he prefer his exploits to remain private?
The green-eyed snake of jealousy bit into my heart. I hated the thought of Brady being with other women even though he wasn’t mine. I had no right to expect him to abstain.
But it hurt all the same. Because those women got a side of him he’d told me I would never, ever see.
I kept walking. A few men complimented my lingerie, one even going so far as to suggest we find somewhere private. I stumbled through the interaction, but the man was kind when I said no.
He handed me a card and said, “If you change your mind.” He winked and kept walking.
I stared at the card, tried to put it in my purse, and then realized I didn’t have it with me. And I didn’t exactly have any pockets, either. I stuffed it into my bra as a last resort.
When I got to a room with a masked man whipping a woman, I was immediately enthralled. It helped that the man was ripped. From his shoulders to his stomach to his legs, he clearly worked out.
He also seemed to know what he was doing. The woman, who was face down on the bed, wiggled and moaned with each lash of the whip.
He reminds me of Brady, I thought to myself.
Looking at him more closely, I realized it was Brady. I’d recognize him anywhere. Even wearing a mask, I knew it was him.
I couldn’t move. I didn’t know how to feel about the scene before me. I was enthralled, sure, but I was also jealous. Hurt. Amazed. Confused.
Brady kept whipping the woman, harder and harder, until red welts rose on her back. I swallowed hard. I had no idea he enjoyed that kind of sex.
Brady walked around the woman and flipped her over before tying her up. He said something to her and then went toward where I was standing.
I almost bolted. But he couldn’t see through the two-way mirror, right?
But when his gaze landed on me, he stopped in his tracks. We stared at each other for the longest moment of my life.
“Grace?” he mouthed.
So much for two-way mirrors, I thought before Brady stalked from the room.
BRADY
When I grabbed Grace’s arm, I half expected her to disappear like a ghost. But no, she was as real as I was.
And wearing basically nothing.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I demanded.
Grace had the gall to scowl at me. “I have just as much a right to be here as you do.”
She did, and I fucking hated it. Had she been looking for some guy to sleep with? To give her virginity to?
Christ, the thought of another man—or woman—touching her sent me into a jealous, raging tailspin.
It didn’t help that I’d never seen her dressed like this. Her lingerie left very little to the imagination. The lace barely covered her nipples, for God’s sake.
Underneath her usually conservative clothes was a banging body: curvy and lithe. Her breasts were small but pert. I wondered how they’d feel in my hands.
Worst of all was the pair of panties that were almost a thong on her. Her tight little ass was just right there for everyone to admire.
I wanted to throw a blanket over her and run out the door. Nobody should be able to see Grace like this.
Nobody but you? my traitorous brain asked.
“What are you doing here?” I asked again, my jaw clenched.
“I could ask you the same question.”
I knew that we were drawing a nice little audience, but I didn’t give a fuck. Most of all, I wanted to understand why Grace was here at all.
I grabbed her arm again, but she pushed me away. A guy in a blue mask stepped up.
“Is there a problem here?” he asked Grace.
I gritted my teeth, forcing myself not to deck the guy for interfering.
Grace raised her chin. “Everything’s fine. My friend here was just going to buy me a drink.” Her gaze slid to mine. “Weren’t you?”
I scowled but finally nodded. The last thing I needed was to get thrown out of the club for fighting.
Grace shot the blue-mask guy a smile that only pissed me off more. I needed to calm down.
Grace was an adult. If she wanted to enjoy herself at the Scarlet Rope, what right did I have to stop her?
When we reached the bar and had ordered drinks, I led Grace to a semiprivate booth in the corner. We sat down and stared at each other, waiting for the other to say something.
Then Grace burst out laughing. “You look like you’re about to have a stroke. Or that you’re just super constipated.”
I wasn’t going to laugh. This was a serious matter. But hearing Grace’s laughter melted away my anger, damn her.
“I think I’d prefer a stroke,” I said wryly. “At least then you’d feel sorry for me.”
She grinned. “I’d never feel sorry for a big, strong man like you. You don’t need my pity.”
“No, but I do need you to explain why you’re here.”
When she just pouted, I sighed. Christ, I was putty in her hands, wasn’t I?
“Mac invited me,” I said. “He told me this was a good way to distract myself.”
“And did it work?”
“Kind of.”
“You seemed very . . . interested in what you were doing back there.”
Although it was dim, I could see a blush creeping up Grace’s cheeks. How much had she seen? Had she watched me whip Shayla?
And if she had, had she enjoyed watching it?
“I mean, you can sleep with whoever you want,” Grace was saying.
“I haven’t slept with anyone from here.”
Grace blinked. “Seriously?”
I felt embarrassed for some reason. So much for my playboy reputation. “I just came here to . . .” Whip a woman who looked like you to make myself feel better?
Yeah, like I could say that to Grace.
“I want to experiment some with BDSM. Mac loves it. I wondered if I would,” I said.
“Did you? Like it?”
“Some of it, but I don’t think super-kinky shit will ever be my bag.”
“Huh. There’s a limit to Brady’s interest in sex. I’m shocked.”
I glowered at Grace. “What, did you think I had a basement full of whips and chains?”
“Well, seeing your apartment, you clearly don’t have a basement.”
I laughed. Then I forced myself to be serious again. “Why did you come here? Because we both know you aren’t kinky either.”
“I mean, how would I know since I’ve never had sex?” At my look, Grace sighed. “Okay, fine. I was looking for you. Somebody told me that you’d been seen here, and I wanted to see it for myself.”
She’d come here for me? “Why would you want to confirm that for yourself?”
“I guess I wanted to understand you better. Besides, ‘curiosity killed the cat’ and all that.”
I groaned. “Grace, you can’t take risks like this—”
“What, and you can?”
I didn’t have an answer to that. But in my mind, yes, Grace shouldn’t take risks like I would.
She was different. She was innocent. What if someone had taken advantage of her? Just because this place had rules didn’t mean bad shit never happened.
“What do you want with a sex club?” I waved a hand. “You’re a virgin.”
Grace made a face. “And whose fault is that? You’re the one who keeps saying no. Maybe I wanted to find somebody who’d take me up on that offer.”
I gaped at her. Was she serious? I couldn’t tell. Or was she just doing this to get under my skin?
“Promise me you won’t come here again,” I said.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“I do when I know you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. And if anything happened to you and your dad found out I didn’t stop you, he’d kill me himself.”
That seemed to make her pause. “I’m not a child,” she said.
No, she wasn’t. She was a woman with an amazing body and endless sex appeal. She was a woman who made men turn their heads for a second look.
She was a woman, and if she wanted to have orgies for all to see here, what right did I have to stop her?
“I just want you to be safe,” I said, knowing I was losing this battle.
“That’s fine. But again, if I want to have fun, I’m going to have fun.”
My fists were clenched under the table. I took a long drink of my beer, needing the alcohol to cool my thoughts.
“I don’t want to see you here again,” I growled.
Grace laughed. Laughed! “Sure. You’ll never see me here again.”
“I don’t get why you’re laughing about this. It’s not funny to me.”
Now she looked a little ashamed. She took my hand and squeezed it. “I know you’re just trying to protect me. I get it. But that’s not your job. You’re not my big brother or my dad.”
I stilled. Although I knew she was trying to console me, I couldn’t help but feel hurt by her words.
Not that I wanted her to see me as a brother. But I also hated that she didn’t see me as important a person as Ben had been. Or that my concern didn’t weigh on her like her dad’s would.
“I don’t think coming to a place like this just because you’re curious is a good idea,” I said.
Grace frowned. “Um, isn’t that why you came? Curiosity?”
“I knew I’d probably—do stuff,” I said weakly.
“Mmm, ‘do stuff.’ What kind of stuff? Although I already got a good preview. Whips and all. What else have you tried? Chains? Hanging girls from the ceiling? Butt stuff?”
I barely restrained myself from covering her mouth. “Can you not?” I hissed.
She giggled. “We’re in a sex club. It’s okay to talk about sex.”
“And that’s something you know nothing about.”
“And once again, whose fault is that?”
I growled under my breath. “It’s not my fault, and you know it. You could sleep with whatever guy you want. What about Will? He wanted to fuck you.”
“You want me to sleep with other guys?” Grace looked hurt and confused.
I raked my hands through my hair. “No. But I’m not going to do it either. I’ve already told you this.”
“Yet you and I both know you want me, and I want you. We’re adults. We aren’t in relationships already. What’s the hang-up? Or have you suddenly taken a vow of celibacy, minus the whole whipping thing?”
I didn’t know how to answer that. How did I convince Grace she should stay away from me, the club, and everything that could hurt her?
“Promise me that you won’t keep coming here. You could end up getting hurt,” I said.
“You’re being dramatic.”
“Am I? You don’t know what the guys in here are thinking, seeing you. They see a woman who’s open to kinky shit. What if you get persuaded to do things you don’t want to do? Or you end up seduced and dumped? Or even physically hurt? People don’t fuck around here. This isn’t Disneyland.”
Grace folded her arms, but I could tell my words were having an effect.
“You must think I’m stupid. Or just overly naive,” she said finally.
“You are naive. That’s not a bad thing, either. You’re lucky that you’re innocent about a lot of things.”
Grace was silent for a long moment. Then she sighed.
“I can’t promise you anything other than I know I’ll be careful. So trust me on that, okay?”
It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Grace. I just didn’t trust everyone around her. Right then, it took every ounce of self-control not to throw her over my shoulder and take her home, her protests be damned.
Mac nearly dropped the beer he was drinking. “Grace was at the club? Grace Dallas?”
I nodded. “Yeah, she snuck in. She almost gave me a fucking heart attack when I saw her.”
Mac gaped at me. “Holy shit. What did you say?”
