Interlude (5 page)

Then he was gone, and Mark helped her rearrange her clothing.

“I think you could use another drink after that.” He placed the tumbler in her hand. “This will just hit the spot.”

“I think I may have had too much already,” she protested.

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t let you overindulge. Come on.” He wrapped her fingers around the glass.

“Have a sip. It will revive you.”

He was right. The ice-cold liquid felt good sliding down her parched throat, and the alcohol revived her after the last shattering orgasm.

“I think I’m done now, though,” she said after two swallows. “Really. And I should think about getting home.”

He brushed her hair back from her face, tucking the strands behind her ear. When his lips came down on hers, this time it was with tenderness rather than lust. Gentleness rather than voraciousness, but the feeling of possession was still there as his tongue licked the inside of her mouth. Lisa felt herself melting again, sinking into his grasp.

“I wish we had time for me to do more,” Mark said when he broke the kiss. “You have no idea how much I want to fuck your mouth. Your pussy. Your ass. I want my cock in every hole in your body.

Again and again.”

“What about that private room Damon mentioned?” She looked up at him feeling both bold and shy.

“You heard that, huh?”

“Yes. I didn’t even see a door that could lead to it.”

“Ah.” He smiled at her and kissed the tip of her nose. “That’s for another time altogether.”

“Does that mean I should plan to come here for another drink?” Then she giggled. “I only stopped in because of the weather. What if it doesn’t rain again?”

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“I may just have to have a conversation with the weather gods.” He sat up straighter. “But now, I think we need to get you put back together before I walk you out of here.”

He bent his head again, licking her nipples then gently biting each one before he fastened the front clasp of her bra and one by one pulled each button through its hole. When he slid out of the booth he reached out his hand to help her stand and adjusted her skirt, tucking her blouse into the waistband.

“My shoes,” she said. “I kicked them off under the table.”

Mark retrieved them then knelt to slip them on her feet. Finally, he reached into the booth for her jacket, helped her slip it on, and handed her purse to her.

“I’ll walk you out and make sure you get safely into a cab.” He pulled some money from his pocket, dropped it on the table and pulled on his own jacket.

Damon waved to them as they walked out the door.

The rain had stopped, the clouds had disappeared, and Lisa could see the stars twinkling in the sky. A sliver of moon hung as if suspended on a wire, reflecting back in the puddles of water on the sidewalk that had yet to dry up. Lisa leaned into Mark for support as he whistled for a cab. Staying upright seemed to be a problem.

It seemed only seconds until a taxi had pulled into the kerb and Mark handed her into it.

“See that she gets home safely,” he told the driver, handing him some money.

“No problem,” the man said as he pulled away from the sidewalk.

Lisa collapsed against the back of the seat, her muscles pleasantly aching from multiple orgasmic spasms, and her pussy and her rectum sore from probing fingers and her several climaxes. If not for the reactions of her body, she would have thought the whole evening was a dream.

By the time the cab pulled up to her apartment building, she was ready to fall into bed. She was sure she’d have no trouble sleeping. Yet her dreams were haunted by a blue-eyed stranger whispering in her ear, “I’m going to fuck you in ways you never even dreamed of.”

* * * *

The loud buzzing of the alarm dragged Lisa from a deep sleep, and she awoke startled, unsure of where she was for a moment. Her gaze skittered around. Her room. Of course. Where else would she be?

Then memories of the night before slammed into her like a jolt of lightning.

Ohmigod!

Had she really done all those things? With a stranger? Two strangers? In public, no less?

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For a moment, she wanted to pull the covers over her head and hide under them for the rest of the week. No, not practical. She needed to get up and get to work. Besides, she reminded herself, hadn’t she wished for something like that?
Wanted
to do those things?

The hot shower helped the lingering aches, and a good application of makeup helped conceal the ravages of staying out way too late and indulging in too many things. It wasn’t until she was in the cab going to work that she remembered she’d left her umbrella in the bar.

Oh, well. No problem. I’ll get it at lunch time. Or after work.

But when she exited the cab at the entrance to her office building and looked for the heavy wooden door and the sign,
Interlude,
she couldn’t find it. In its place was a door painted black with the words
Danny’s Pub
in white letters.

No! This isn’t possible. Am I going crazy?

She walked over to the door and yanked on the handle, but it didn’t budge. Locked. She’d try again at noon. And maybe ask some of the others at work if they knew about
Interlude.

The minutes crawled by as she worked at her desk. People stopped by, and she found ways to casually ask if they knew about the bar, but no one seemed to have heard of it. The closer it came to noon, the tighter the knot in her stomach grew. What the hell was going on?

She was just shutting down her computer and getting ready to leave for lunch and some snooping when the receptionist came in carrying a long white box.

“For you,” she grinned. “Got a secret admirer?”

“Not that I know of.” She cut the tape holding the lid in place and ripped off the top. And gasped. Inside lay her umbrella. Next to it was a note that said,
Here’s to stormy weather.

So it was true. She hadn’t imagined it all. Had she?

Well, she had her umbrella back but she still was going to investigate. How could one bar just disappear like that and another one take its place?

She fidgeted all the way down in the elevator, impatient as they stopped at floor after floor. Finally, they reached the ground floor, and she pushed past people in the lobby, almost shoving some of them aside in her haste to reach the sidewalk.

Yes, there it was.
Danny’s.
This time, when she pulled on the door, it swung open, and she stepped not into a dimly lit environment but into a brightly lit, noisy pub filled with a lunchtime crowd. The booths lining the wall were all open—none with curtains—and tables jammed the space between the booths and the bar.

What was going on here? Her body told her she hadn’t imagined the evening, but how could a place just disappear like this? She started towards the bar, nearly bumping into a waiter bearing a loaded tray.

“Hey, lady, watch it, okay?” he snapped, sidestepping her.

“Oh. Yes. Sorry.”

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She stood at the end of the bar and waited edgily until the bartender noticed her.

“What can I get you?” he asked, slapping a paper cocktail napkin down in front of her.

“Nothing. I just want to ask you a question.”

“Make it snappy. We’re busier than hell today.”

“Just tell me something. Has this place always been here?”

He looked at her as if she’d grown three heads. “Are you crazy or something? Of course, it has. Now if you don’t want a drink, I got customers to take care of.”

“Okay, okay. Thanks.”

Back out on the sidewalk, she stood looking at the door, her nerves jittery, a funny feeling in her stomach. She wasn’t given to fanciful imaginings, nor did she believe in the paranormal. But how to explain the whole mystery of the previous night? And the gorgeous stranger who made her cunt drip and her nipples throb? Would she never see him again? Never explore her other erotic dreams?

Her appetite gone, she forced herself to eat a sandwich at the coffee shop off the lobby then made a supreme effort to discipline herself to work throughout the afternoon. All she wanted was to close up her computer, go home and fall into a bottle of wine.

The elevators were jammed again at quitting time, adding to her feeling of agitation. And when she emerged into the street—holy hell! It was raining again. She popped open her umbrella, turned towards the black painted door and gasped.

There it was! The heavy oak door with the discreet sign,
Interlude,
above it.

Ohmigod!

Butterflies dancing in her stomach, she pulled open the door and stepped into the familiar atmosphere of the previous evening. Low lights. Soft music from hidden speaker. And the high-backed booths with the heavy curtains that could be closed. Had she stepped into another time dimension?

Her eyes automatically went to the booth in the farthest corner, and there he was. Just as sexy and gorgeous as she remembered him. He smiled and waved to her. Immediately, liquid soaked her crotch and her nipples tingled.

She made her way to the booth on shaky legs.

“I was afraid you might not make it,” he told her, standing as she approached.

She shook her head as if trying to clear it. “Mark, I have to tell you. I’m completely confused. I came into this place at noon today, and it was completely different. It didn’t even have the same name. I don’t understand.”

“You must be mistaken,” he told her, smiling. “You couldn’t get in here at noon. This place doesn’t open until five.”

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Lisa frowned. “Are you sure?”

Mark laughed. “Sweetheart, I’m positive.”

“Well,” a deep voice said behind her. “I’m glad you stopped in again tonight. Mark and I were hoping you would. What with the rain and all.”

Lisa whirled to see Damon standing right behind her.

“Oh! You startled me.”

“Sorry.” Unexpectedly, he bent his head and kissed the spot behind her ear then nipped at her earlobe.

At the same time, Mark reached out and tugged her blouse from her skirt, slipping his hand beneath to cup a breast. “We thought we’d show you the private room tonight.”

She knew she should back away, move away, no, run away, but she was caught in an erotic web, and her feet just wouldn’t move.

“But where is it?” she asked, heat flashing through her as Mark rubbed her nipple through the lace of her bra.

“Right over here.” Mark pointed with his other hand, and she saw a door tucked behind the bar. She could have sworn it hadn’t been there the night before. “But first we have to get rid of these clothes.”

She jerked her gaze back to him. “Right here? In front of everyone?”

“Of course,” Damon answered. “That’s part of the fun.”

Lisa glanced around the room and saw curtains pulled back at the other booths and people watching her with avid curiosity.

As Mark spoke to her, he and Damon deftly divested her of her clothing, slipping her blouse from her shoulders, unzipping her skirt and letting it pool at her feet. Damon reached around to unclasp her bra in the front as Mark worked her pantyhose and panties down to pull them away with her skirt. In seconds, she was naked, and Mark led her to the centre of the bar.

“Last look,” he told everyone. “We’re introducing her to the private room tonight.”

“Give us one glimpse of her cunt,” a man said. “One look before you take her away.”

Mark stooped, placed his arms beneath her knees and raised her so her legs were splayed wide. He walked slowly from one end of the row of booths to the other.

Lisa couldn’t remember the last time she had been this aroused, this hot. Strangers eyed her naked body, and it turned her on so strongly she was afraid she’d come right there and then.

“All right,” Mark said at last. “We’re off.” He shifted her so he carried her in his arms.

Damon waited by the nearly invisible door. He swiped a key card in a tiny slot next to it and the door
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slid open. Mark carried Lisa into a room draped in black velvet, with spotlights shining on various areas.

Her eyes widened as she took in the people sitting on the richly upholstered furniture or standing in groups. They were all as naked as she was. And all engaged in some kind of sexual activity, even those who were upright.

A woman leaned against a tall table, eyes glazed as the man behind her fucked her ass with slow rhythmic strokes. Against one wall, a woman stood with arms stretched above her head, her wrists enclosed in cuffs hanging from the ceiling while a tall man fucked her ass. In a corner, a woman lay on a couch, her legs spread wide, another woman kneeling between her legs lapping at her cunt while a well-built man slowly moved his cock in and out of her mouth.

“W-what is this place?” she asked Mark, stammering, even as she imagined herself taking the place of any of these women.

“A place of pleasure,” he told her. “Great pleasure. More pleasure than you’ve ever imagined possible.

Tonight, you can live out every erotic fantasy you’ve ever had.”

Every fantasy? Holy shit!

Her mind immediately conjured up the wildest erotic images she’d ever dreamed about. Wished for.

Mark stood her on a slightly raised platform in the middle of the room. “Be a good girl and bend down and grab your ankles.”

“What?” She shook her head as if to clear it.

“We want to show everyone that gorgeous cunt and ass, don’t we?”

As he spoke, his voice soft and coaxing, he bent her over, moving her fingers to her ankles and spreading her legs wide. More erotic scenes danced through her mind, and she was suddenly consumed with a tidal wave of lust. Mark’s lean fingers traced the length of her slit then probed her channel which she knew had to be dripping wet.