Secret Invitation: Tempted By Pleasure Part 8

I stare at her reflection in my mirror. "Thanks for your vote of confidence. I'm perfectly capable of managing my life."

"The two times you've seen a p.e.n.i.s you ran away. Right, Goldilocks?"

"What?" Once again I drop the wand in the sink.

"Remember, too hot, too cold? In your case, too big or small."

I twist around and clap my hands. "Brilliant. But isn't there a happy ending? Her next bowl of porridge is just right."

"Is that what you're expecting?" She clicks her tongue. "Then I suggest sizing up their hands."

What is she talking about now? "Explain."

"A guy's d.i.c.k measures up to his palm and thumb."

"Urban legend."

Her eyebrows shoot up. "Wanna bet?" She brandishes her cell phone. "I'll get Jack over here and we'll just see how wrong I am."

"You measured it?"

She smiles.

I shake my head, envisioning her subjecting her latest boy toy to such humiliation. "You're shameless." I try to pull off a p.i.s.sy look, but she's too funny. "I'll try to remember." I finish with my eye makeup and turn to the full-length mirror on the wall behind me.

"d.a.m.n, girl."

"Too much?" I slide my hands down the front of my Tadashi Shoji black lace sheath dress I bought at Nordstrom's last week. "Guess I knew I needed something slinky."

"You're beautiful, Erin, maybe too hot."

She's sitting on the closed toilet seat and I walk over to her. "You're sweet for saying so."

"I don't think you understand." She grasps my hand.

"I thought you were going to support whatever choice I made."

She blows out an exaggerated breath. "Can't a girl worry about her best friend?"

"I have my cell phone and I'm sure the driver has a license number or some kind of special identification we can ask for. You can escort me to the car."

She taps her sandaled foot. "That's a start, but I'd prefer a microchip."

"No GPS and no more questions. I'm sworn to secrecy." She even wants me to disclose everything Dr. Mallory and I discussed. "Don't take it personally, I just want to do everything right."

Half an hour later, the limo pulls into my driveway. Katie drapes my silk chiffon beaded wrap over my shoulders and hands me my clutch. "I don't know what to say." She pulls me into a tight embrace. "I'm so excited for you, but scared s.h.i.tless."

"Let's go outside."

The chauffeur steps out of the vehicle and smiles. "Good evening, Ms. Covington. My name is Neil." Dressed in the traditional black uniform, his gargantuan size suggests he missed his true calling to be a body guard or NFL player.

"h.e.l.lo, Neil," I say. "Can you provide some credentials? Maybe a cell phone number, too?"

He reaches inside his breast pocket and flashes a shield.

"Wait." Katie grabs his hand. "You're a cop?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Katie has a pen and small tablet and writes down his name and shield number. "Cell number?"

She records it. "Let me use your phone, Erin."

I surrender it and she dials. A second later, Neil's phone rings.

"Satisfied?" I ask.

She nods, and I kiss her cheek.

"What time will Ms. Covington be home?" she asks the driver, sounding like my mother.

"Whenever she pleases."

Neil opens the door and I slide inside. After he closes it, my eyes adjust quickly to the dim lighting. An open bottle of champagne is waiting in a bucket of ice, orchestra music is playing, and there's a silk lap blanket folded on the seat across from me.

"Welcome to Lazarus," Neil says as he settles in the driver's seat. "Before we go anywhere, there's a few rules we need to discuss."

"I'm listening." Excitedly.

"The directors at Lazarus want you to know how pleased they are you accepted their invitation. Tonight is the beginning of a new life for you, Ms. Covington."

"Thank you."

He turns so he can see me. "You are in complete control. If at any time you change your mind, tell me, and I'll take you home. To your left is a compartment. Inside, you'll find an envelope and blindfold. Please read the letter before I continue." He faces forward again, giving me privacy.

A blindfold? Heat spirals up my spine. The mere mention of something so naughty thrills me. I can't believe how giddy I am. Am I doing the right thing or condemning myself to shame if I live out my s.e.xual fantasies? It's too late to turn back now. Curiosity doesn't just kill the cat, does it? I find a latch and a small glove box opens. The gold envelope is sealed with a Lazarus insignia. I open it.

Dear Ms. Erin Covington, The Board of Directors welcomes you to the Lazarus Club.

In the tradition of Marquis de Sade, s.e.xual pleasure is a pa.s.sion to which all others are subordinate but in which they all unite.

Within our sanctified halls women are worshipped. No form of pleasure is considered profane. Your deepest desires will be fulfilled. The price is complete and utter silence. Relish you were chosen. Know you are protected. Believe you are no longer alone. Lazarus is evolutionary, an opportunity to experience limitless self-indulgence without facing animus. Our brotherhood has survived five generations because we live beyond the limitations of social norms. We believe one thing, the human body was created to give and receive pleasure.

F.W.

I slip the paper back inside the envelope and sit in contemplative silence. Relish you were chosen. Know you are protected. Believe you are no longer alone. The welcome alone is a turn-on. My heartbeat races and my mouth is dry. No man I know speaks like that. And if he did, I'd have a ring on my finger already. Evolution? Beast to man, or man to beast?

"Are you finished?" Neil asks.

I jump. How can I give pleasure if I've never fully received it? Will I disappoint the man I choose as my lover? Fear crashes over me.

"Ms. Covington?"

"Sorry." I smooth my skirt, trying to keep my nervous hands from fidgeting. "Yes."

"Do you have any questions?"

"Virgins . . ." I cover my mouth.

Neil smiles.

"I-I . . ." Get your s.h.i.t together. I've dated, kissed and groped, just never f.u.c.ked. "I'm inexperienced."

"No one will judge you."

I hope not. "The blindfold?"

"Please put it on now. The location of the event is strictly confidential."

My fingers skim over the silky black material. Cover my eyes. Something I've always fantasized about, but been too ashamed to share with anyone. Secrets were my only escape from the strict reality I grew up in, one where everything and everyone had its place. Compartmentalizing my life was a skill I learned early on and nearly perfected. Like the books in my store, I've been tagged and shelved for so long I don't remember what it's like to take risks, until now.

I fit the blindfold over my eyes.

We drive in silence, and it takes forever for the car to pull off what I guess is the highway. The limo makes two sharp turns, then barrels down a quiet road. Minutes later it stops and Neil gets out. I shift nervously, anxious to see where I am. My door finally opens.

"Ms. Covington, give me your hand." I rely on Neil's deep, authoritative voice to guide me up a set of stairs and through several doorways. "You can remove your blindfold now."

We're standing in a grand entry with a pair of mahogany doors and double-radius transom with leaded beveled gla.s.s. Wrought-iron floor candle stands shed shimmery light. I know southern architecture, and judging by the s.p.a.ce, we're in a restored Victorian mansion. A third archway opens into a reception hall where people are dancing and socializing.

The open-floor plan, high ceilings, and large windows are aesthetically pleasing. Four crystal chandeliers bathe the room in soft light. Mesmerized, I slink forward. There's a black marble fireplace along the far wall. Neil rests his hand on my shoulder, and I glance at him.

"This is a beautiful home."

"You'll get accustomed to luxury, Ms. Covington. The directors have impeccable taste."

I scan the crowd. "Not just in decor." All the women are gorgeous.

"You're very observant." He chuckles. "Someone is waiting for us. Will you come with me?"

As we cross the room, I notice several men and women staring at me. I grip Neil's arm tighter, suddenly aware of how dependent I am on him for a shred of confidence. We leave the main room, walk down a short hallway, and stop at an oak door.

"This is where we part ways, Ms. Covington."

"Really?" I refuse to let go. He's a lucky rabbit foot as far as I'm concerned and I need all the help I can get tonight. "Please stay."

"Do you want to go home?" He appears genuinely concerned.

"No."

"You need a drink. Dr. Mallory is waiting inside the library for you."

The doc will be a welcome sight. I've never felt comfortable in big crowds where I didn't know anyone. Even when I travel alone to Europe, I get b.u.t.terflies in my stomach. "I'm ready."

Neil knocks on the door. I hear footsteps, then it opens.

"Ms. Covington." Dr. Mallory smiles. "Thank you, Neil. That will be all for now."

I watch my Goliath-sized security blanket leave before I face the doc again. "I'm here."

"Yes." His gaze slides down my body, then up again. "You are beautiful."

His compliment shuts me up and I end up in a stiff, leather wingback chair sipping brandy.

"After you finish your drink, I'll escort you to the reception room and introduce you to some of the members. Several gentleman have already expressed an interest in meeting you."

I cross my ankles, staring at him over my gla.s.s. "How?"

"We post biographies of new members on a secure website."

No one mentioned anything about online profiles. "I'm not sure I like my personal information being in cybers.p.a.ce. If my parents . . ."

"It's a closed-loop network. There's no security threat, I promise." He approaches and refills my gla.s.s. "I know how nervous you must be. There's no pressure tonight. When you're ready, let me know. We can simply observe other couples. Understand?"

"I can watch people make love?" Why am I surprised? It's a s.e.x club that claims to cater to every sort of fantasy. Watching another couple f.u.c.k might be fun. Right? Somehow I just can't fully accept that I'm here yet.

"Yes. But most of our members engage behind closed doors." He sits in the chair to my right, then steeples his fingers. "We have a voyeur room."

I finish the brandy and set the empty gla.s.s on the side table. Gripped by liquid courage, I blurt out, "There's no reason to delay."

"One last thing." He offers me his hand. "Some members prefer to remain anonymous and wear masks to all the parties."

Our eyes connect and I'm suddenly aware how attracted I am to Dr. Mallory. He's dressed in a tailored, charcoal-colored suit with a burgundy tie. He's slim and athletic looking, like a tennis player, with dark hair and hazel eyes. I think a super-hot version of Niles from Frasier and giggle.

"Did I say something amusing?"

"No."

The corner of his mouth curls upward. As we step out, I know I'm never going to be the same again.

Chapter 10.

Foster I've been waiting for over an hour to catch a glimpse of Erin. If my suspicions are correct, the girl I knew in school and the woman I kissed at lunch the other day are only a tiny part of who she really is. Somewhere beneath the inflexible personality her mother so painstakingly imparted to her is a fearless lioness, a fireball waiting to be unleashed. I feel the pulse of her energy whenever I'm near her. And the idea of possessing her gives me a raging hard-on. I want to be the man who shows her forbidden pleasure, wins her confidence, and proves that second chances are real.