Page 9 of Deeper

Rylan

“I’m having second thoughts.” Tatum tries to backpedal.

“Tatum, this was your idea.”

“Not exactly. You asked me what my fantasy was, and I answered you. I didn’t think that meant I would actually be acting out that fantasy in front of strangers.”

Utopia was closed for three days after the body was found. After a lot of persuasion and a few drinks, I convinced Tatum to check out the club for the first time. It was harder than I’d thought it would be to get her to agree, but once I explained that she would be in a probationary period for a week and that no one was going to touch her, she gave it a chance. We’ve been back three more times since then, but neither one of us has to wear the red lanyard tonight.

“It’s just sex, Tatum. Every person is there for the same thing. No one will judge you.”

“Then, why are we getting all dressed up?”

She fidgets with the lace garter I just helped her put on.

“No one is going to judge you for acting out your sexual fantasies, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t look hot while doing so. It’s part of the fun.” She doesn’t look convinced, so I gesture to the full-length mirror and say, “Seriously, look at yourself. You’re fucking smoking, and anyone who looks at you tonight will see that.”

“Having people look at me when I’m wearing next to nothing is kind of what I’m afraid of.”

I want to scoff at her. She really is being ridiculous.

“This is about freedom and acting on your desires, which is what you said you wanted. We can call the whole thing off if you’re really not okay with it. It’s totally up to you.”

Tatum takes a deep breath. “Nope. I’m not backing out. Just don’t let me do anything stupid, okay?”

“I promise. Now, throw on that trench coat, and let’s go.”

Tatum’s nerves bounce from the roof of my car to the floorboard for the entire ride to the club. I have some jitters myself, but they aren’t half as bad as hers are. I’m more excited than anything. We’re killing two birds with one stone today—one of Tatum’s fantasies and one of mine. We don’t have to go to the club for her to experience being with a woman, but we do for mine. Crazed eagerness and fascination tingle throughout my body as we pull up to Utopia.

I’m a woman unleashed, unchained from bland confinement.

We check in quickly and settle in the lounge in order to ease our way in.

The first time I was here, people were practically standing shoulder to shoulder. After the incident, the club hasn’t been as busy. A few people mingle around us. Men and women come in and out of the door that leads to the back, which is where we will be going tonight. Each and every one of them has a look of satisfaction on their face.

“Still nervous?” I ask Tatum, barely managing to tear my eyes away from the man who just walked out from behind the door.

She looks at me, and, yep, there is a bit of panic in her eyes.

“Yes.”

“Which part makes you most nervous? The act or the location?”

She messes with the tie around her waist that holds her coat closed. “I’m nervous about what we’re going to do, but that isn’t really what has my stomach in knots. The room and the people are what is making my insides do flip-flops.”

The room I chose—the viewing room—is my fantasy. The acts we’re going to perform inside the room are Tatum’s. The idea of all eyes being on me is something I’ve always been curious about. Goose bumps coat my flesh from just the thought of it.

“If you’re not comfortable, we don’t have to use that particular room. You’re safe here, no matter what room we’re in, though. Phones are collected at the door, so no one can record anything. I can’t guarantee that you won’t end up in someone’s mental spank bank, but there is really no harm in that.” I give her a nudge and smile to try to lighten her worries.

“I’m okay. I’m just nervous. I don’t want to embarrass you or myself. You’ve been so excited about this club. I don’t want to ruin it for you.”

“You won’t embarrass yourself, and there is absolutely nothing you can do to embarrass me. I write for a kink magazine for crying out loud.”

She laughs because she knows I’m right.

“What if it’s weird?”

I lean in, my lips connect with hers, and I pull her closer to me with my fingers on her chin. She leans into my touch, and our mouths find an easy rhythm.

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