Chapter 1
Gemma
What in the hell was I thinking?
My new roommate thought it would be a great idea for me to get my mind off my now ex-fiancé, Dustin. She said she knew exactly what I needed and had the perfect night out planned. I should have asked more questions.
We're now standing outside the famous Club Red sex club in downtown Chicago. It looks more like a warehouse, but that's not what is putting me off. It's more the fact that this is where my best friend hooked up with my dad several months ago.
She is now my new stepmother, and they are happy together. I love them both, but my dad is a member here."I can't go in there," I tell my roommate, Skye.
"Why the hell not?" She says, tucking her keys into her purse.
"Because my dad is a member here," I tell her like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Because to me, it is. There is no way I can go into the same sex club where my dad is a member.
"Well, he and Summer are going to see that new movie tonight. I verified they would not be here, so there's no reason that you can't go in there."
Summer and I were roommates before she got together with my dad, so I'm not surprised that Skye checked with her beforehand. I don't want to admit that curiosity seems to want to get the better of me. I do want to know what the allure is and why Skye is a regular member here.
I also want to know why Summer is always raving about it. She's been telling me I should go, but I keep putting it off.
"Come on, you read the same books I do, and I know that you're curious. I think that you're going to like it. It'll be the best rebound you can have."
"But I don't need a rebound because I was the one to call off the engagement," I remind her.
"But you guys were together for a while, so you need a rebound."
I don't think I need a rebound. I called off the engagement because I was more excited when my dad and Summer got engaged than I was over my engagement. That pretty much said everything.
Plus, my dad was a single dad since I was six. When my mother died, he worked his butt off and was the most amazing parent I could ever ask for. We're close, and the fact that Dustin didn't even think to ask for my dad's blessing or even talk to my dad before proposing just didn't sit right with me.
"Look, here are the car keys. You can leave anytime you want. I've got a few people here I can catch a ride with. Just promise me you'll give it at least thirty minutes. Go in, have a drink, and look around. Check out both the first and second floors. If you don't like it, you can bolt," Skye says.
My curiosity is definitely getting the better of me. Skye has talked about Club Red before, and I want to see what all the hype is about. So, taking a deep breath, I nod my head. Now hopefully, I'm prepared to walk in the door.
She takes my hand and guides me up to the glass doors that you can't see through from the street. I was expecting it to look like a sex club from the moment I stepped inside. But what I wasn't expecting was a clean, bright lobby that looks like it belongs in some kind of modern office building.
Standing here, you would never know that on the other side of the big leather double doors sits one of Chicago's most notorious BDSM clubs. There's a dull thump from the music bass on the other side. By the doors, there are two men standing, while another man is guarding a small white door. It looks like a door that could lead to any simple room in any house on the other side of the wall.
"Gemma," Skye says, getting my attention.
"Here you go, dear, just fill this out," the receptionist says all sweet as she and Skye go back to talking.
Sitting down on one of the white leather chairs, I look at the form. It states that Skye is sponsoring me for a thirty-day guest membership.
We had filled out a lot of this online when we sent in my doctor's physical and the STD test I had to have, along with the proof that I am on birth control. Then I was required to fill out a series of consent and liability forms all of which they make me go over again now just to be sure.
Reading further, there's the list of rules I have to initial next to each one. Don't interrupt other people's scenes. Stop doesn't mean stop. Red is the only code word that means stop. It goes over the club’s safe words like green means you're ready to go with the scene or happy with how the scene is going. Yellow, you're coming up to a limit or you're pushing against a limit. When you say red, the scene comes to a complete end. Consent is stressed constantly over and over again. Even having to consent to touch someone. It doesn’t matter if it’s something as simple as holding their hand.
For our protection, there are plain-clothed monitors and security members everywhere, along with security personnel who are easily identified. Many paragraphs are filled with details of what to do if a scene goes wrong, the consequences for breaking the rules, and everything in between. The more I read through the paperwork, the more comforting it is to know that there are rules in place to protect me. It makes me more secure knowing there are people in place who will insure I’ll be safe.
Finally, I turn in the clipboard with my signatures on it, and give my ID card to the receptionist. A few minutes later, she hands me a very discrete member’s card. It's a deep red with the word ‘membership’ at the top with a member number, and on the back is a bar code. It doesn't have my name or mention of the club, so I'm guessing if it's ever found, there's no way to link me to Club Red other than in their system.
"Does she need a tour, or will you handle that, Skye?" the receptionist asks.
"I got this thanks," she says and then leads me through the simple white door, which opens into a hallway.
"Let's put your stuff in a locker in the locker room next to the rest rooms. At the other end of the hall are all the security and the club owner’s offices."
She guides me into a locker room where almost everything is white. We put our things in the locker, which takes our fingerprint as our key. It's high-tech stuff that I've never seen before.
Once everything is in our lockers, she walks us back into the lobby and through the leather doors. Stepping into the main area of the club is like entering a completely different planet.
The room still has the old warehouse feel with cement floors, but it's a wide-open space.
"There's a two-drink maximum, but you can have all the water you want. They also have snack foods and finger foods at the bar," she says. Then she points to the other side of the room where the largest bar I've ever seen, with over twenty bar stools, is sitting.
This club does nothing small because in front of us is the largest black leather with red accents sectional coach that I've ever seen. It's so large it could easily hold over twenty people and there are large ottomans scattered in front of it big enough to hold three or four people lying down. More if they're sitting up.
The lights are low, but as my eyes start to adjust, I take a look round. My eyes land on the stage at the far end of the room where a couple is performing. Others stop and watch for a moment and go on with their business, while some sit and watch intently.
"The archway to the left of the bar leads to the voyeur hall. All sorts of different themed rooms are located there, and as long as the curtains are open, you're free to watch." She points to an archway to the left of the bar.
"The second floor has themed and private rooms. Also, there's a smaller intimate lounge area where you can watch things down here, as long as the doors and windows are open." She points to the wall of glass above us.
It reminds me of a hotel lobby I was in with my dad on one family vacation except there's no hallway and balcony. It's just a wall of glass. Some you can see into and others you can't.
"What's on the third floor?" I ask, looking at the row of glass that you can't see into at all.
"Those are the VIP suites. They're the ones who pay every month to have a private suite. The owners also have a suite up there. You can't get to that floor unless you're invited, so only worry about the first and second floors. Now, let's get you a drink because trust me, you are going to need one."
Skye pulls me toward the bar and orders me a Malibu coconut rum and pineapple juice, my go-to drink.
I take a sip and turn on the bar stool to look at the room.
"Hey, I see a friend. You okay or do you need me to stay with you?" Skye asks.
"I'm good. I think I'm going to sit here and just watch," I tell her, motioning her off.
Taking a minute, I look around the room. There are several couples on the couch, a woman tied to the Saint Andrews cross beside the couch, and a man playing with the woman strapped to the cross. On one of the ottomans, a woman is sitting on a man's face and I can only imagine what's going on based on her look of pure ecstasy.
People here are letting everything hang out, while others are mostly covered in lingerie. I seem to be very overdressed in my tiny skintight dress, which is less clothes than I've ever worn. I’m extremely uncomfortable in this dress with how much is showing.
As I take another sip from my drink, a man in a suit sits down next to me.
"Are you new here?" he asks. His deep tone sends tingles across my skin.
"Yes, a friend of mine brought me as a guest. She's over there talking to some friends." I nod in the direction where Skye is.
Turning to get a good look at the man next to me, my eyes widen. Fuck, is he gorgeous. A few gray hairs at his temples, but otherwise dark brown hair. There are some wrinkle lines at the corners of his eyes. If I had to guess, I'd say he's in his late thirties. But then again, I've always been attracted to men older than me. I think it's because they are more mature than the immature little boys that are my age.
"Do you like what you see?" he asks, catching me off guard.
