Bound by Her Best Friend (A Club Smex Story) (6 page)

Chapter Eight

Go to a pleasure club? Freya shivered at the thought and frantically shook her head. Not even because the idea freaked her out, but because—and when this had happened, she did not know—the idea intrigued her beyond belief.

Fuck.

It was completely unacceptable. Their whole conversation was! She’d never spoken about sex with Zak. It had never felt so uncomfortable around him.

You’ve never looked at him like this before either.

She shivered again and mentally begged her brain to shut the hell up. She was so confused. Nothing was making any kind of sense, and Zak…she shot him a quick look. He didn’t seem bothered at all. He seemed the same as ever, smirking and speaking as though he didn’t have a care in the whole world. Like it was normal to be discussing this stuff with her.

“You might actually be intrigued by it all,” he said softly.

And because his suggestion was so close to what she was actually thinking Freya reacted in a super-defensive way. “I never would! It’s weird,” she snapped.  “Pervy.”

“Pervy? Christ, Sparks, don’t be so uptight! It’s fun.”

Her nipples hardened all over again.

Fun. Fun. Fun.

Could it be? Would she find it so? She crossed her arms quickly, mortified at the thought of Zak noticing.

“Uptight!” she hissed. “I might not have been to one, but I did my research, even spoke to some girl who’d auditioned—auditioned!—to go to your club! You’re all rich guys, right? All millionaires?” She rolled her eyes. “Too busy to bother with regular women, so you just go and pick them out like candy or something.”

“They pick us,” Zak said. “That’s how it works.”

“Excuse me?”

“The women decide not the men,” he added. “That’s the whole point. Surely, you’ve realized by now? In sex, the woman
always
has the control. Doesn’t matter if she’s chained up, if she’s tied on her knees in front of her lover, she is always the one who holds the man in the palm of her hand. Always.”

Freya’s stomach flipped. She’d never really thought of sex in those terms before, but now that Zak had said it, they prodded something inside of her, made her consider things she’d never really thought about before. Oh, she knew that the woman often
did
have the power in a sexual relationship, but could it be that way even when she was submissive?

Freya didn’t have the right kind of experience to answer that question. Her relationships had always been normal, even tedious, especially where sex was concerned. She’d enjoyed it, but never found it earth shattering. In truth, she’d often had more fun pleasuring herself. And the idea of being tied up, or put on her knees in front of a man made her shiver. She’d never thought herself the type to find that arousing, but when she’d undertaken her research, it would be a lie to say something inside of her hadn’t stirred.

And yet…She looked up through her lashes at Zak. He was sprawled back in his chair, that same intensity she’d felt last Thursday buzzing around him, almost buzzing around her.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” she said, and even she could hear the edge of desperation in her voice.

“Don’t be a prude.”

“I’m not…I’m…” Freya paused. How could she tell Zak that it felt weird? That her stomach was clenching, her clit aching? That she was imagining him making his way around the table and…taking her into his arms and…

She shuddered, trying desperately to banish that thought far, far away. And because of it, because Zak was making her feel things she did not want to feel, the fact he was confusing her, she couldn’t help but be defensive. “Truth is I expected better from you, Zak,” she snapped. “I mean, why do you even need to go to a place like that? You could get any woman you wanted.”

He shook his head slowly. “Any woman I wanted?”

“Yes,” she replied, a montage of all Zak’s girlfriends over the years flashing through her mind. “You’re rich, successful. They line up for you. They always did. Remember Lucy Donalds? You were going to take her to prom. Every guy wanted to, and you could have.”

He smirked. “You gave me a hive rash. She recoiled in horror when she saw me.”

“So you dumped her.”

“And took you instead.”

“I remember,” Freya whispered, the framed picture of them side by side coming to mind. He’d kept it all these years. She had a similar one herself in her bedroom and yet—because of the Smex letter—she hadn’t had time to think about what it meant that Zak had chosen that picture to frame out of all the ones they had taken over the years.

Had it meant as much to him as it had to her? Had he realized how relieved she had been when—after cursing her for the lavender—had asked her to accompany him instead. She’d had other offers, but had said no to every one of them, though she never really knew why. Until Zak had stepped in Freya had faced a prom all alone. She lowered her gaze as memories from that night filled her. He’d been
her
Zak then. The man she had moved to Massachusetts to be close to. The man who had always made her feel safe and cared for. How could it have changed so suddenly? How could she now be seeing him in a completely different light? Be
lusting
after him?

“That’s where you’re wrong,” she heard Zak say, and there was something in his voice that jarred—didn’t quite fit. “I can’t get any woman I want. I never have been able to.”

“Zak, I don’t understand—”

He stood up, knocking his chair back as he did so. Freya started, moving her own chair back.

“Zak?”

“You never did,” he snapped. “That’s the whole fucking point.”

He paced back and forth, tension so obvious in every movement. Freya followed him with her gaze, a million other memories filling the spaces he left as he moved. Zak at prom. Zak helping her to get her first job. Zak caring for her when she was sick, even moving in for a fortnight when she’d had a particularly evil strain of flu. Zak fixing up her mom’s apartment, being there whenever she needed him, however she needed him. In that moment, Freya realized that it wasn’t the sex club that she had a problem with, not at all. It was her
reaction
to the idea of Zak in that club.

It made her see him different.

It made her want him.

It made her envious of the women who
had
him.

She scrunched her eyes shut and took a deep breath. “I just need to work it out in my mind,” she whispered, “Just give me a little time.

“Then you’ll be okay with this? Okay with this side of me?”

With knowing that I want you? That I’m going to be thinking of sex every time I look at you in the future? Wondering what it would be like to be with you, but knowing that you don’t see me that way?
Freya snapped her eyes open and looked him straight in the eye. “Yes,” she lied. “In time I will be okay with it.”

Zak stepped forward until he was directly in front of her. “But you don’t like it.”

It was a statement more than a question, and Freya answered it honestly. “No,” she said. “I don’t.”

He held out a hand and though Freya knew, with the feelings that were bubbling inside of her, that she shouldn’t take it, she did. As he lifted her to her feet she looked at his hand clasped around hers, and felt her pussy clench in a completely inappropriate way. Why had she never noticed exactly how long Zak’s fingers were?

“Then why don’t you try it this weekend?”

She looked up, startled, sure she’d heard the words wrong. “Excuse me?”

“You heard,” Zak said. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the gesture so tender that Freya wanted to sigh. “That invite lets me bring along any woman of my choosing. Come to the club, give it a try, and if you’re still disapproving, if you still don’t like it, I’ll give up my membership.”

“I couldn’t do that,” Freya breathed. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

He was tucking hair back on the other side of her head now, and Freya was frozen to the spot, terrified that Zak might look down and notice her nipples poking through her tee shirt. It would be all the evidence needed to show him exactly what she was feeling. Maybe he would even figure out that the letter had awakened something inside of her, something she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to put away again.

It mortified her beyond belief. No matter what happened, she
had
to get things back to normal again.

She could not lose Zak. 

“It would be too weird,” she eventually said.
And I’d be too intrigued.

He smirked and moved a step back. Freya took advantage of the moment to cross her arms over her chest. “If you have any balls at all, if you are even close to being the woman I’ve always thought you to be, you’ll come with me.”

Freya narrowed her eyes. “You’re challenging me to go to a sex club? With you?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not serious?”

The smirk deepened. “Sparks, look at me. I mean, really look at me. Have I ever looked more serious?”

“But, Zak…I…”

“You’re scared,” he said.

How wrong he was. “Not scared! Freaked out.”

“I’ll look after you.”

But she wouldn’t want him looking after her. She’d want him doing something else
entirely
. “Zak…”

“Think of it like when I took you paintballing,” he continued. “It’s something new. Something different.”

“It certainly is different,” she sighed.

“Like an adventure.”

“Yes.”

For a moment Freya, was tempted, unbelievably so, but seeing Zak with other women? Seeing the reality of his hotness? She shook her head. “I can’t. This is too weird. Going to a sex club with my best friend?”
One I’m now lusting after
. “A club he’s a member of?”

“I bet you’d come if I was another woman.”

“I—”

“You’re being sexist. I feel deeply discriminated against.”

Freya laughed; she couldn’t help it, and for a moment the weird barriers between her and Zak fell back down. They were grinning at each other, teasing, and it felt just like old times. But then she imagined Zak in the club. All imposing and masculine, with a whole line of women all wanting Zak to be the one to pleasure them—because why the hell wouldn’t they?—Zak was incredibly good looking. Freya had always known this, just because it was now affecting her in a very weird way didn’t change it. Freya suspected Zak was very popular in this club of his, and that made her feel even weirder.

“I can’t,” she repeated after a pause. “It’s too—”

“Different.”

“Weird.”

“I promise I will look after you. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. You don’t like it fine. I’ll give up my membership, just like I said.”

“You’d do that because I wanted you to?”

“Freya,” he sighed. “When will you learn? I
always
do what you want me to.”

And it was those words right there that did it. They were enough for her to speak without thinking through the words, to not even consider what she was letting herself in for. “Fine. I’ll come, and I’ll look around but,” she added, “I am not going to have sex with anyone. Let’s make that clear right here, right now.”

“It’d do you good. Shake you up a bit.”

And it would at that
.  “I am perfectly fine.”

“Fine again? How many fines have we had tonight?”

“Zak!”

He held up his hands. “Sorry. Forget I said that. I’m on best behavior now.”

“If I do this,” she said quickly. “I want us to forget I ever read that letter.”

“We’re going to pretend?” he asked.

“Yes,” she agreed. “We’re going to pretend. We’re going to imagine this day never happened. That I was never in your apartment. I never read the letter. And you will promise never to make me worry ever again.”

And then maybe I can forget the way you’re making me feel.

“I promise.”

“Christ,” she breathed, as the full enormity of what she’d agreed to hit. “I can’t believe I’m going to do this. What am I even going to wear?”

“Don’t you worry, Sparks.” He grinned. “I can help with that.”

Chapter Nine

Freya was painfully nervous as she approached the street that led to Club Smex. No that was a lie, more than nervous she was absolutely terrified. Part of her couldn’t believe she’d taken Zak up on his challenge. That part almost seemed to be watching her from the sidelines somewhere, watching and shaking its head. But then there was the other part and that one was giving her a cheer, encouraging her to get as wild as she could…preferably with Zak.

She shivered at that thought and looked down at the slinky dress swishing around her thighs.

The dress Zak had sent her yesterday.

From the front it looked fairly plain—just a black slip of material that reached to mid thigh and flared out slightly. Even when turned around it wasn’t shocking. Sure, there was no back at all, and the tiny sleeves were practically see-through, but she’d worn worse when she was younger. No, the dress was shocking because of the secret that was inside it, the secret that was hidden by the tiny black zippers at strategic points in the material—one under each breast and the other running from the belly button to the hem.

“Kinky,” she muttered as she crossed the street. “That’s what this dress is, a kinky dress.”

She laughed—perhaps with an edge of hysteria—and caught sight of her reflection in the row of windows at the front face of the Hotel Mercure,  just around the corner from where her taxi had dropped her off, on her request. She’d worried the driver would know where she was going otherwise.

Silly, maybe?

She was so tense she didn’t care.

And the dress? It had looked very different when it was in the box. It had even felt different the first time she’d tried it on, just like any other dress really. Freya slowed her pace a little and eyed her reflection as covertly as she could.

A secret was hidden inside the dress, only by undoing the zippers would that secret be revealed, and Freya fancied she could almost see it, burning through the outer layer of material.

Not that anyone was going to be undoing those zippers, she reassured herself quickly. Like she’d told Zak, she was coming to look only, not to take part. It wasn’t like she would want to get down and dirty with anyone else. The very thought of doing something with a stranger, knowing Zak was close by, maybe even doing the same thing with someone else made her heart clench with jealousy.

Yes, jealousy was an emotion Freya had gotten to know very well over the last forty-eight hours. It was an emotion she had found…disconcerting.

She stuck her tongue out at her reflection and picked up her pace. Christ, it was cold, and she was very glad she’d decided to slip a jacket on. Sure, it didn’t exactly match the look she was going for, what with it being a denim jacket and all, but it made her feel a little more comfortable and surely that was the main thing?

She sighed slightly as she crossed the street to the address that Zak had given her. Wondering as she did how the other women were likely to be dressed. Lots of tight outfits and super high heels maybe? She looked down at her own heels. They were a bit scuffed, and the strap on one was held down with glue, but Freya didn’t think anyone would notice that from a quick glance. Zak wouldn’t at least. He never noticed anything she was wearing.

He noticed enough to send you this dress.

She smoothed her hands down the dress, imagining exactly how it would look when the top layer was removed. That thought was quickly followed by what Zak would think when he saw her in it. Would he compare her to the other women in the club? The women he’d probably fucked.

The jealousy came knocking again. Freya paused, checking the number over the oak door of the building in front of her, letting the emotion have its way as she did. Of course, she should have expected it. At least, that was what she told herself. Once she started to think of Zak in those terms she was bound to end up thinking of the women.

They go there to be pleasured by powerful men.

And Zak
was
powerful. It wasn’t even because of the money or the trappings that came with. It was because of his personality, the energy that he seemed to exude. Freya had never realized before, or maybe she had and just didn’t want to admit it to herself, but the boy she grew up with had become someone who, had she not known him, she’d have been panting for.

She
was
panting for him now.

She had no idea how she was going to stop.

The number over the oak door matched that on the address Zak had given her. Freya walked the three marble steps carefully, not wanting to slip in her heels, and pressed the buzzer above the card reader he’d told her about. By text. Freya had not seen Zak since she’d agreed to his challenge. He’d nodded, kissed her briefly on the forehead, and strode out of her apartment. He hadn’t even stayed to finish the lasagna.

The door buzzed open, pulling Freya from her Zak induced thoughts. She stepped inside, her heart beating at what felt like double its normal tempo. Not sure exactly what she had suspected Freya was surprised to find herself in a large lobby.

An empty lobby.

It was all gleaming wood and polished tiles, and, in a weird way, reminded Freya of Zak’s apartment. It had that same subtle hint of money, power, and elegance. At the end of the lobby, next to a set of double doors, a large reception desk waited, and behind it was a perfectly polished blonde. Freya gave her a tentative smile and made her way across the smooth expanse. 

“You have an invitation I believe?” the woman asked.

She was painfully pretty, and she wore a lovely smile, but that wasn’t why Freya warmed to her. Freya liked her instantly because the woman made no comment on her denim jacket, or the scuffed shoes—which Freya was sure she would have noticed. She exuded a sense of calm, more than that she seemed welcoming, kind. And suddenly a horrible thought occurred. Were all the women here this stunning and this nice? If so, Freya didn’t stand a chance. Her girl next door looks against supermodel perfection?

“I—”

“No,” the woman said.

“Sorry?”

“Call me, Eliza,” she added. “And the answer to your question is no.”

“How did you even know I had a question?” Freya asked.

Eliza grinned. The grin transformed her pretty features into something from a classical painting. She was almost too beautiful. “My ladies always do,” she said. “But do not worry. No one here will judge you in any way. Women come in all shapes and sizes. I pick them for what’s on the inside as well as the outside.” She laughed. “Just don’t tell the men that.”

“
You
pick them?”

Eliza nodded. “Except for the invitations. That’s why you’re here. You’re Freya, and you’re here for Zak.”

It was not a question. “Yes,” Freya agreed. “I am.”

“He arrived over an hour ago,” Eliza said, consulting a tablet in front of her. “I believe he has been preparing your room.”

“My room?” Freya asked.

“Zak asked me for a new room for you both. I assume he does not want to use his usual room, and that is understandable.” She shot another spectacular smile. “You have room ten. It is spacious and has all the equipment requested.”

For us both? Requested
? Freya looked around her, confused and intrigued in equal measure. From the gleaming tiles of the lobby, to the chandelier twinkling its light all over the space. What was she doing?

“I think there’s been some mistake,” she said after a moment, “I’m just here to look around.”

Eliza smiled again, almost in sympathy. “No one comes just to look around,” she said. “You come here because you passed our audition, or you have been invited to do so.”

“Yes,” Freya agreed. “I was invited. By Zak.”

“Who will be your pleasure buddy for tonight.”

Freya’s mouth dropped open as Eliza’s words hit. She shook her head quickly and took a hasty step back. “My what?”

“Your pleasure buddy, Freya.” Eliza paused and tilted her head almost like she was considering something. Whatever it was, she made her mind up a second or so later, and the next words that she spoke made Freya tremble. “And he has been waiting for you for a very long time.”