Bound by Her Best Friend (A Club Smex Story) (7 page)

Chapter Ten

Zak had been busy arranging the room for the last hour, not that it needed arranging. Everything was all laid out exactly as he wanted, but he had to do something to keep the nerves at bay. Heading to the bar was not an option, being half sloshed would hardly help his cause. Neither was pacing outside in the lobby, he doubted the hostess, Eliza, would stand for it. No, there was nothing to do but move things around, wait in anticipation, then move them some more.

Part of him was worried Freya was not going to turn up. He’d challenged her, and in the past that had always been enough to get her to do something. Only this was something entirely different, and he knew she was way out of her comfort zone. Honestly, he was surprised she’d even agreed to it.

And if she didn’t turn up? Well, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. This was his last shot, the final roll of the dice. All he could hope was that Freya
would
rise to the challenge, just like the time she’d had her first proper boyfriend.

Zak had slapped down a challenge then.

They’d been twenty-three and the guy was named Rory. Zak had hated him on sight. In fact, it was those intense emotions, the need to smash whatever was in range when he saw the other man, which forced Zak to accept what his feelings for Freya really meant. Oh, he always had been attracted to her, ever since they were teenagers. Zak remembered—in excruciating detail—the moment he’d asked Freya to the prom. He’d been full of youthful nerves and desire and had practiced his speech time and time again in his bedroom mirror. When it came to actually delivering it, though, Freya had stopped him mid flow, laughing and ruffling his hair before telling him not to be such a douche.

She’d thought he was teasing her, making a joke out of it, and he’d left so angry and disappointed that he’d asked Lucy Donalds instead. A few days later—after he’d dyed Freya’s hair green to stop his friend Mickey from asking her, and she’d responded by giving him a severe case of hives, Zak  had realized what a mistake that was. The second time he asked, Freya had said yes, but only because he’d insisted they go as friends.

Even then she’d firmly friend zoned him, and he’d let her, hadn’t had the balls to do otherwise. Then he was at college without her, all those years apart, and then the early days in Boston. He’d been so pleased to simply have her as his friend again that he hadn’t wanted to push, to ruin things.

That first boyfriend changed all that. Three months they’d lasted for, three never ending months, during which Zak almost convinced himself to confess to Freya how he felt. Only he’d been young, working fifteen hour days trying to get ahead, and he had absolutely nothing to offer her. Yet, at the same time he couldn’t bear the thought of Freya being with someone else, especially not someone like Rory. One Thursday night he’d asked Freya how her relationship was going. She’d smiled and said all was fine, but Zak knew immediately that things were
not
fine. Seeing his chance, he’d set down a challenge. If she could tell him five things about what’s-his-name that she wouldn’t be able to get from another man he’d make an effort to like him, but if she couldn’t, then she should dump him—otherwise, what was the point. Freya had taken the challenge without so much of a quibble, and spent the entire night talking about her favorite books. It was the get out she needed from a relationship she did not want, and Zak had been able to rest easy, knowing he no longer had to spend every night writhing in jealousy.

It seemed to him now, looking back, that a pattern was formed in those early years. Freya would meet hook up with someone she thought she liked, Zak would debate with himself over what to do, and then before he could make a decision, she’d dump the guy anyway. Sometimes he even wished that she had gone further, so that he would be forced to declare himself, but she never had.

Could there be a reason for that?

Maybe it was the same reason that he had never settled down?

Zak considered that possibility as he took a last look around the room. He knew how he felt about Freya, but was it possible that she felt similar only didn’t recognize it? It would be easy to mistake their friendly love and feelings for one another as just that—but what if there was more?

Tonight he intended to find out.

If she ever came.

He cast the small clock on the cabinet a quick look. Ten minutes to eight. He’d texted Freya the address and asked her to meet him at exactly eight, and she was always on time, even early. Maybe he should have picked her up, he thought, his stomach giving a flip. What if she backed out at the last minute? What if she’d thought it over and the challenge wasn’t enough? Picking her up, though, would ruin the whole thing. They needed to see each other with new eyes. His entire plan rested on taking her away from familiar surroundings. He would seduce her in a setting built purely for pleasure and go from there.

Zak closed his eyes at that idea, his dick throbbing relentless in his pants. He’d waited for so fucking long and he wanted her badly. It was going to take every ounce of self- control he had to last through the night.

The image of her lying on the bed in front of him filled his mind. She would be wearing the dress he’d had delivered; a slinky black number that unzipped to reveal bands of leather underneath. He could see now, the leather circling Freya’s breasts—breasts he’d fantasized about for years. He would hold them in his palm, kneed the soft flesh, bite into the pert nipples…

“Where are you, Sparks,” he muttered. “Where are you?”

The intercom, hidden in a panel by the main door, buzzed. Zak’s heart raced and he snapped his eyes open. She was here.

He had never been more excited.

Or more nervous.

He strode forward and swung open the door to room ten, not his usual room at all, but then he would never have thought to make love to Freya in a room he had fucked other women in. The space where they finally came together had to old no memories of the past for either of them.

A fresh start. No matter where it took them.

Zak made his way to the end of the corridor. Once there he took the winding staircase down until he was on the ground floor. To the left was the bar, to the right the dining hall, and there at the very end, the lobby. Christ, Zak was more nervous than he realized. His heart pounded, his palms were clammy, and he wanted Freya in his arms.

The double doors into the lobby opened as he walked down the corridor. Two women were outlined against the frame and the backlight from the chandelier. Zak recognized them both, but only one held his attention.

She was wearing the dress he’d sent. It fit her perfectly, and she looked more beautiful than even he had suspected. He quickened his pace and a moment later stood in front of her.

“Freya,” he breathed and reached out to take her hand.

She took his without any resistance. Her eyes were wide, and she was worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.

Anxious, he thought, that makes two of us.

“Hi, Zak,” she said.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

She looked at Eliza, who—oddly—had a denim jacket draped over her arm, then back at him. “I’m ready, Zak.”

Chapter Eleven

The inside of the club was just as imposing as the outside—lots of polished marble, walnut panels and sparkling lights. Hand on Zak’s arm, Freya followed him down a long, wide corridor that was deathly silent, only the sound of their footsteps making any kind of impact. A number of doors branched off from the space, though there was no indication where they led.

“Where are we going?” she asked as they approached a staircase. It was a Gone with the Wind style structure, with a wide, red carpeted runner and a handrail leading up and up. But unlike in the movie it didn’t turn sharply at the first landing, it curved around on itself and disappeared.

“Upstairs,” Zak said.

To your room.
Freya swallowed nervously at that thought, confused still by Eliza’s words, confused by everything if she was really honest with herself. The hostess had seemed to imply that Zak had wanted her to come to the club for some time, but that didn’t make any sense. The idea that Zak planned to be her
pleasure
buddy made even less. He had never so much as suggested he saw her in that light. And yet here they were, in his
club
.

Freya walked forward, Zak at her side, and recalled the look on the other woman’s face.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she had said the moment she’d managed to close her mouth, but Eliza simply grinned.

“You need to lose the jacket,” she’d said. “Come…”

Eliza held out her arms and Freya had felt compelled to comply. That woman— who couldn’t be much older than either she or Zak—had an oddly commanding air, and seemed to be brimming with secrets, Freya could feel them.

What did it all mean? Why did it all feel so…different?

Everything has changed.

“We’re straight ahead,” Zak said, pulling Freya’s thoughts from Eliza, from the club, from the confusion. “Be careful on these stairs in those heels.”

Freya gripped onto his arm as they ascended; nerves making her belly feel like a flock of birds had taken up residence. The staircase opened up to another corridor and the doors along this one were numbered, the floor carpeted, but everything still so quiet.

“Isn’t there anyone else here?” she asked. “I feel like we could hear a pin drop.”

Zak shot her a look, and she turned, expecting to see his usual smirk. Only it wasn’t there. He looked…tense, more than that, he looked
good
. Freya swallowed against the sudden dryness in her throat as she did a hasty visual survey of the man who was leading her who the hell knew where. Dressed in a suit he looked like the Zak she remembered from the parties he had dragged her to, all polish and elegance. She remembered, too, how all the women at those parties had reacted when he’d entered the room with her on his arm. He was the prize, and Freya was to be ignored.

Because he’s a catch.

She wobbled slightly as they turned a corner and Zak tightened his grip on her hand. Why had it taken her so long to realize just how eligible Zak was? It was almost like she’d put a barrier between them that clouded reality and never let her look beyond it to the man who had been right freaking there!

She thought quickly of all the times he’d held her. All the times they’d hugged and cuddled and held hands. Surely, if Zak had wanted her, like Eliza seemed to suggest, he’d have done something about it? He wasn’t exactly shy about going after what he wanted, no one so successful could be.

“There are other people here,” Zak said, and at that point, maybe because she was looking at everything with her eyes abruptly open, even his voice made her tremble a little. “The rooms are soundproofed.”

The meaning behind that came as quickly as the words. “Oh.”

“Precisely.” They turned another corner. “We’re in here.”

“Room ten?”

“Our private room for the night.”

Zak didn’t even pause before pushing the door open to its widest arc and leading them into a space that was bigger than Freya would have imagined given the length of the corridor. Unsure what else to do she looked around taking everything in. Her gaze skipped to the partially opened door to reveal a marble en-suite, to the beech wood counter that held a variety of baskets, across to the huge sofa dominating one corner, then at last to the bed.

It had to be big enough for six or seven people to sleep comfortably in, but it was nothing like Freya would have imagined a bed in a sex club to look like. If pressed—and God knew she had been over the last few days—she’d have expected something with silken red sheets and piles of decadent cushions. However, like the bed in Zak’s apartment, this one too was almost plain. A crisp white sheet covered it, with a small pile of white cased pillows atop, and another white sheet was draped across the bottom.

“What do you think?” he asked.

Freya jumped ever slightly. Zak had come up right behind her, closer than she’d thought. She could smell that oddly enticing spice on him, turned to see the little crinkles at the corner of his eyes, the curve of his jaw, the deep brown of his eyes. In that moment, like none that had ever come before, Freya realized just how handsome her best friend was.

She fully understood why so many women chased him.

“Sparks?” he prompted.

She gave herself an inward shake and took a step away from Zak. The back of her calves hit something…the bed.

“It’s a bedroom,” she said inanely.

He smirked. “It is.”

“But why am I in here? What is this, Zak?”

He shrugged, and then, though Freya had no idea why, he began to loosen his tie. “It’s a pleasure room, Sparks.”

“I kind of got that,” she said. “But why are we in here?”

The knot of the tie came undone, and Zak threw it onto in the direction of the couch. The top two buttons of his shirt were open now, and Freya could see a sprinkling of chest hairs.

Heat flashed through her body, hardening her nipples in an instant and there was no disguising that fact. Freya looked down, she couldn’t help herself, to see them thrusting through the very thing fabric of the dress Zak had sent her. And that was when she realized the purpose of the inner layer. Two bands of material circled each breast, connected by the zipper under each one, and as her breasts grew heavy with want, as the nipples stiffened, the material constricted around each breast, cupping them, pointing them forward…making Zak aware of exactly what was going on.

He was slipping his jacket off now, his gaze fixed on her chest, a moment later it too joined the tie. “You agreed you would look around,” Zak said softly. “Wasn’t that the deal?”

“I meant the club,” she whispered. “The club.”

Zak smirked. “This is part of the club. Hell, this is the main part. This is what people come here for.”

Freya stepped away from the bed, desperate to get some distance because Zak was humming with energy again, as intense as ever, and it was all focused on her. She crossed her arms over her chest, and wandered over to the beech wood counter. The baskets scattered across it did not have lids, and the moment she was close enough she saw exactly what surprises they held.

Vibrators. Lube. Anal plugs. Whips. Paddles.

Freya catalogued everything and as she did, she was highly aware of the band of leather from the inner layer that circled her pelvis. It felt like it was clenching her skin, amplifying the feeling deep within her core.

Desire.

She was practically humming with it.

“There’s a rabbit,” Zak said, his breath tickling her neck. He’d followed her over, his chest almost pressed against her back. Freya closed her eyes, desperately trying to hold on to some sort of control.

“This stuff,” she said. “You would use this if you were in here with someone?”

“Maybe. It would depend.”

“On?”

“Whether they wanted me to or not.”

Oh God
! Freya turned slowly, hands splayed behind her, gripping the counter for support. Zak was right in front of her now, his hair falling across his brow, a determined sort of glint in his eyes.  “And how do you know if they want you to?” she whispered. “Do you sit down and have a discussion?”

“Sometimes. Experience teaches you.”

“The experience of being a pleasure buddy?”

He tilted his head. “Where did you hear that phrase?”

“Eliza told me.” A pause and then Freya said the words that were bouncing around her brain, words that were beginning to make an exciting kind of sense. “She said…she said that you were going to be mine.”

Zak nodded slowly and lifted a hand. Hesitantly, it seemed to Freya, he trailed a finger down the length of her cheek, along the curve of her jaw and then dipped to her collarbone. The caress was like nothing she had ever experienced before from him. It was not friendly. It was not sweet. It was almost like Zak was telling her something, and in that moment everything began to fall into place. 

“What did you think when you heard that?” Zak asked.

Freya darted a tongue out to moisten her lips. “I thought she must have made a mistake. Maybe you didn’t explain the real reason you were bringing me here. You pretended that I was just…”

“Just what?”

“One of the usual women you invite.”

“I’ve never invited a woman here. To this club,” Zak said and Freya was sure he must have noticed the slight gasp those words elicited from her, because he paused before Speaking again. “But you’re right. I
did
invite you, and there was a reason for that, Freya.”

“Because of the challenge?”

“No,” he said, and the next words were spoken in a way that made every part of Freya quiver with anticipation. “Because I want you.”

The club. The room. The feel of it. Zak removing his clothes. The look in his eyes
. How could she have pretended it was all in her mind? That it was her own dirty thoughts coloring everything? Zak had brought her here for one reason and one reason only.

He wanted to fuck her.

“We’re friends,” she said, though who she was reminding, him or herself, Freya did not know.

“Yes.”

“Best friends.”

He reached up and plucked the clip from her hair, letting it all fall free around her shoulders in waves. “Yes.”

Freya ducked her head slightly, unsure what to do. To have Zak standing right in front of her, wanting to do
exactly
what she wanted was more than she could ever have hoped for, and yet at the same time, this was Zak and he… “You’ve never seen me that way,” she whispered. “Never.”

He placed a long finger under her chin and lifted her head so that their gazes met. Freya allowed herself to see it then, to stop denying it, to see that intensity for what it really was. Maybe for what it had been all along.

Desire.

“Freya,” he said, and he was almost chiding her. “You have no idea how wrong you are. No fucking idea.”

He pulled her to him so that the length of their bodies melted into one another’s. Freya could feel the muscles of his chest pressing against her breasts, teasing her stiffened nipples. She was so shocked she didn’t even think to stop him.

He pulled her in closer, wrapped his arms around her waist so that she had little choice but to lift her arms and wrap them around his neck.

The back of the counter pressed against her ass. Freya shifted slightly, straight into Zak’s erect cock. It nudged against her pelvis and made her practically pant with longing.

“Zak…”

He nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. “Yes, Sparks, I want you. You can feel how much. And in just a moment I am going to remove those panties and bury my head in between your legs.”

Her eyes widened, she sucked in a shocked gasp of air. To hear Zak saying those words, to imagine him doing exactly that…her pussy clenched, her clit ached and she was wet with want, clamoring for him already. All the questions that would have to be asked at some point stopped mattering.

Right now, all she wanted was to feel Zak inside of her. To have him hold her in his arms and fill her with his cock. She would deal with the regrets and the explanations afterwards.

“Zak,” she whispered. “I want…”

“I know exactly what my best friend wants,” he said. “And I’m going to give it to her.” A pause and then, “Say you want me, Sparks.”

“I want you,” she whispered. “Badly.”

“About fucking time.”

He placed a hand under each ass cheek and in one quick move lifted her up. Freya wiggled, bracing herself against the counter, then shifted so that her legs circled his waist. His hands were dangerously close to her pussy. God, how she wanted him.

“I can’t fucking wait to see this,” he growled, squeezing her ass, his big hands practically covering each cheek. “Cannot wait.”

Freya might have whimpered a little then, she wasn’t sure. But she was pretty much helpless as Zak carried her over to the bed and carefully placed her on to it, his fingers trailing fire from her ass and along her thighs.

Absently, she realized the bed was as hard as the one in his apartment and scooted back slightly—legs pressed together—to allow him room, but he laughed softly.