Getting sexy: Obsession / Getting Some / Getting Even

“Damn, I love you,” he utters, then slips his hand between my legs once more. Now he goes in for the kill, putting two fingers inside me while stroking my nub with his thumb.

“How do you always do this to me?” I ask. “Make me so fucking horny?”

His movements are faster, and I’m sure people know what’s going on. How could they not?

Oh, damn. I’m so close…

I close my legs around his hand and bury my face against his shoulder. “That’s it, baby. You know I own you.”

And then I come. And come. And come.

I bite down on Adam’s shoulder. It’s an effort to keep any sound from escaping my mouth. I pray anyone within earshot only thinks I’m laughing.

“You two must be celebrating something.”

I whip my gaze up to see the waiter standing at our table. Adam keeps a firm hand wrapped around my waist so I can’t move apart from him. His other hand is still in my panties.

“Um, yes,” I answer shakily. I’m still light-headed from the aftermath of my orgasm. “We’re getting married.”

“Ah,” the waiter coos and places the garlic bread on the table. “Congratulations.”

Only when the waiter disappears do I dare move away from Adam. He grins at me, victorious, knowing he has conquered me sexually once again.

And I can’t help it. I grin back at him.

I love this man.

A little over an hour later—at least I think it’s an hour later (I can’t be sure, since I had the lion’s share of the wine)—I am holding on tight to Adam’s arm as he’s driving along the 285 perimeter around Atlanta. It seems we’ve been going around and around for ages, but I could be wrong, considering my head’s in a fog. I can barely keep my eyes open, but when Adam veers suddenly to the right, I perk up. I see that he is taking an exit several miles from my home.

“Hey,” I say.

He squeezes my hand. “Don’t worry, babe.”

“Where are we going?”

He glances at me and flashes a playful grin. “You had a surprise for me. Now it’s my turn to surprise you.”

I eye Adam warily. He’s not big on romantic surprises. Besides, what on earth can he be surprising me with in the middle of nowhere? Unless he’s going to…

As the answer hits me, I am almost sobered with the excitement.

“Adam,” I squeal, “you didn’t!” Of course, I’m hoping he did. I look around expectantly, hoping to see large suburban houses with sprawling lawns and aged oaks any second now. I thought for sure we’d stay in Buckhead, but maybe he’s decided that we’ll live in Duluth.

But as we continue to drive, the industrial landscape doesn’t change, and I’m a bit confused. This area isn’t only industrial, it’s fairly run-down. Not exactly the neighborhood where Adam would buy a house.

Growing nervous, I grip Adam’s hand.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he tells me. “You’ll see what it is when we get there.”

I am more than surprised when Adam turns into the driveway of a large, one-story gray building. At least a hundred yards long, it’s got to be some sort of warehouse. I can’t imagine why he’d be bringing me here, unless he wants an isolated place to make out. Which irritates me, since I already gave him a blow job in the restaurant parking lot. At least, I think I did. The memory is kind of blurry. In any case, I’m not in the mood to get kinky out here.

“Adam, I think you should take me home.”

“Don’t worry.”

He travels the length of the building, then turns left around the corner. Suddenly a row of cars comes into view. Lexuses, Jaguars, BMWs. What is this place? Some kind of club?

I ask him.

“Yeah, it’s a club.”

“But I thought…” I snuggle against my man. “I thought we were heading back to your place before you take me home.”

Adam pulls up next to a Ford Explorer and parks the car. “I think you’ll like this.”

I frown slightly as Adam disentangles himself from me and exits the vehicle. Moments later, he opens my door and offers me his hand. I’m not convinced I’m going to like whatever’s inside, but Adam is grinning at me like a fool.

Shaking my head at him, I let him help me out of the SUV. We walk hand in hand to a door at the back of the building. This is not the kind of club I normally go to. I’m partial to the classy joints in my Buckhead neighborhood. Clubs with a piano bar, a live jazz band. This one is…well, secretive is the only word that comes to mind.

I cling to Adam as we step into the entrance. This place is weird, all right. Barely lit, the foyer area is completely blocked off from the rest of the place. I can hear soulful, seductive music coming through the walls—the only real indication that something’s going on here. I feel the way people must have felt during the days of prohibition, sneaking into speakeasies after dark—like I’m doing something illegal.

There’s a big-breasted cashier in a very small cubicle, and Adam hands her two crisp one-hundred-dollar bills. She doesn’t give him any change back. That’s more money than we’ve ever paid to get into any club. I wonder again just what kind of surprise this is.

The bouncer opens a heavy metal door for us, and the light is almost blinding as it streaks into the foyer. Adam steps forward and I walk with him into the club—and then I stop dead in my tracks.

I am so stunned, I’m not sure what to think. I close my eyes in case I’m hallucinating. But when I open them, I see the same shocking images, and I know that what’s going on is very real.

Everywhere—and I mean everywhere—there are people engaged in sex acts. Immediately before me on a mattress on the floor, a woman is sandwiched between two men. To the right of that trio, a woman is on her knees giving a man a blow job. And beyond them, a man has a woman braced against a wall and he’s ramming her hard from behind.

My God. This is sick. It’s like I’m in a room with animals that are gorging on sex.

I feel a surge of panic. I’m light-headed, yes, but not so drunk that I don’t wonder why Adam has brought me here. This is no ordinary club. I’m not even sure it’s legal. The absurd icing on the cake is the group of partially dressed people dancing on the dance floor, as if they’re completely oblivious to the acts of illicit sex surrounding them.

“Adam—”

“We can just watch if that makes you feel better.”

My mouth nearly hits the floor as I look up at him. I expected him to say many things, but not the words I just heard. Surely he has to be as shocked as I am, as disgusted that we are in some kind of sex club.

Instead, he’s staring at me with a hopeful look in his eyes, and his palm is sweaty.

God help me, he’s excited.

But I am not. “You knew what this place was before you brought me here?” I ask him, outraged.

“Someone told me about it, and I wanted to check it out.”

My head is spinning, and I’m not sure what to think. “Great,” I say. “You’ve seen it. Can we go now?”