Page 4 of Unwrap Me

“If I weren’t meeting up with someone, what color would I wear?” I ask, primarily out of curiosity, not that I want to abandon Chris. I don’t think I could come here to meet people. My stomach is swirling with anxiety already; I can’t imagine having a “get to know you” chat while I sweat in my lingerie.

With a smile, she gestures to the row of bracelets on the counter behind her. “All of these symbolize what you’re looking for.” She winks at me. “So if you were open to meeting someone, you’d pick one of these for the night.”

“Oh.” My eyes scan over the different bands, some a single color and others stripped with a combination. There have to be at least fifteen options.

The receptionist chuckles, probably at the face I’m making. “Don’t worry too much,” she says. “I see your meeting with…” She scans the screen of her tablet. “Oh, Chris.” Her eyes lift to mine with a sly smile. “He’ll take care of you.”

Somehow, that makes me feel like my date is a regular here. And that he’s fucked the receptionist.

You can’t really be jealous,that voice in my head sings.You are meeting at asex club,after all.

It’s not unreasonable to think that Chris has done this before.

“Want me to take your coat?” she asks, gesturing to the rack behind the reception desk.

Fuck.No. But if I actually say no, I have to lug this thing around all night, and that doesn’t seem very sexy. I nod. “Yes, please.”

You got this, Noelle.I try to pep talk myself as I shrug off the coat, letting it drop from my arms and gathering the material to hand over.

“Wow.” The receptionist grins as she takes the coat, her eyes scanning my outfit. It’s something I threw together myself, a tight red body-con dress that hugs all my curves and has a big red bow right at my cleavage. It doesn’t stop my tits from looking amazing in the sweetheart neckline and there are no straps, leaving my shoulders bare. I bought the dress last year for a Christmas party, but when my ex saw it, he demanded I take it off. And not in a sexy way. In a ‘I’m ashamed of you’ way. Dread burned in my gut as I removed the dress and hung it in my closet. But he’s not here anymore, so I’m wearing it proudly.

I paired it with black stockings attached to a garter belt and matching red heels. Plus, a headband with a bow to really emphasize the present theme. With my long dark hair hanging in loose waves and the matching red lipstick, I think I look hot as fuck.

“You look amazing!” The receptionist gleams, which feels pretty good considering she’s attractive herself.

“Thank you,” I say, feeling a blush coat my cheeks.

“Come on,” she says with a wave of her hand. “Let’s get you into the club.”

And then she opens the door, ushering me into the main room and kick-starting the rest of my night.

3

I’m not sure what I expected, but Desire isdifferent.

Christmas decor fills the place, green garland strung across the room and twinkling lights everywhere. Next to me, there’s an oversized Christmas tree covered in sex toy themed ornaments. Whips, paddles, vibrators, I even see an anal plug.

The first floor resembles a VIP club. It’s classy, filled with deep shades of red and black. Not at all like the dungeons filled with whips and chains that porn has shown me. Though, the club has five levels, so I’d expect those are around here somewhere.

Bing Crosby’s voice drifts through the room at a low volume while my eyes scan every inch of the floor. There’s a bar made of deep mahogany before me, and the bartender is wearing reindeer antlers as he pours a drink for another customer. Across the room, there are black leather couches and some candlelit tables with chairs, people scattered among them.

In comparison, my outfit is mild. I see women dressed in nothing but bras and panties with collars around their necks, men in speedo like underwear, and a lot of lingerie and leather. I’m in awe, my eyes not knowing where to focus as I try to take everything in.

“There you are.” The deep voice stirs something inside of me, and I turn around to find a silver fox.

Chris looks even better in person. His profile picture doesn’t do him justice, which says a lot, considering I’ve already touched myself to that photo. He’s in a similar red suit, or is it the same one? A deep shade of crimson red that’s festive yet classy. The white dress shirt has a few buttons undone at the top, allowing a spattering of chest hair to peek through, and I imagine what it’ll feel like when I run my hands over it. His beard is sharp and clean cut, streaked with salt-and-pepper that matches the swath of gray on his head. He’s broad but lean, looking like he’s taken care of his body well for the last forty-nine years.

And he looks at me like he wants to be my undoing.

Dark eyes rake over my body, and I hear the air as it hisses from his lungs. “Christ,” he groans, his hand lifting to stroke over his chin. “Did you get dressed up for me, Noelle?”

This entire situation feels sinfully dirty. My voice is frozen, but my body’s an inferno, burning up just at the sight of him.

I swallow hard.

“Yes,” I say breathily.

Something glows in his eyes, and I think tonight might be the death of me, but every fiber of my being can’t wait until this man puts his hands on me. I’m aching for it, and I barely know him. I just met him, for God’s sake! And yet, if he took my hand and led me upstairs, I’d go willingly. Easily. I’d let him strip me bare and do anything he wanted.

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