Chapter 124

MADDISON

Atticus wasn’t kidding when he mentioned that tonight’s event was more of an intimate gathering than a typical club party. There are only two designated rooms, each hosting a couple or a throuple, and a select group of guests has trickled in, mostly one by one. They all seem unusually friendly, even to the point of exchanging kisses, men included.

My role for the evening has been to ensure that all new arrivals surrender their phones, as per Atticus’s rules, and to serve them their first drink of the night before they choose their room. There’s a detailed system in place for the phones. Each one is placed in a sealed bag, which then goes into a black lockbox to which I hold the key.

The owners are given a ticket to retrieve their phones at the end of the night. The drinks have been ordered one by one, with a list left for me to follow. Atticus has stayed close to me for most of the evening, but now that the real fun is about to start, he’s moving between the rooms just like I am, making sure everything runs smoothly.

From what I can tell, tonight’s event is a private hire. Friends and sexual partners have planned this, and they’re all visibly excited. The first room, named Plum after its door color, has a couple inside, with five spectators watching as their encounter begins.

Three women and two men stand together, but not as couples, if you catch my drift. They’re all clearly here with a shared desire to watch the couple in front of them perform a scene for their own sexual pleasure. The scene suggests that the two are a couple.

There’s a lot of respect between them, and their play is more about light teasing and making love. I can’t help but linger a few minutes longer than necessary after delivering the second round of drinks, watching the man lightly spank the woman, leaving faint pink handprints on her bottom as she sighs in contentment.

My lips part and my tongue feels swollen with embarrassment at how much I enjoyed watching that. Even after returning to the bar, I have to fan myself and do a mental check-in. As expected, Atticus has left me a note with the drink orders for the second room in use tonight.

The room, named Onyx, has a black door and hosts two men and a woman. From what I overheard in the Plum room, the dom isn’t against letting others join his games. As I serve the drinks, I briefly wonder who the dom is. Which of the men I’ve served holds the power in the Onyx room?

It could be any of them, really. I don’t have to wait long to find out. As I carry two trays of drinks through the door, I see nine spectators, the room filled with people lining the walls, leaving the trio in the center with space to play.

I nearly choke when I see Grayson, the businessman, with his white shirt unbuttoned, revealing his taut and surprisingly muscular torso adorned with thick black tattoos that spread across his skin like tentacles. His suit pants are open, revealing Calvin Klein black boxers that do nothing to conceal his arousal.

He’s whispering into the ear of a middle-aged woman while another man performs oral sex on her without any hint of shame. His hand wraps around her face, forcing her to look up at the ceiling. The whole scene is incredibly erotic and, quite frankly, dominating.

But I manage to control my arousal and shift my gaze to each client, handing them their drinks. I try to remember their names and faces, making small talk and introducing myself, determined to learn their favorite drinks so I won’t need to write anything down in future encounters.

That’s how I operated at Sanctum, and I won’t settle for anything less here. With that, I exit the room, carrying the now empty glasses on my trays back to the bar to rinse. Atticus follows me out, walking beside me with a calculating gaze that makes me uneasy.

“Is this too much for you?” he asks quietly as I rinse the glasses. His breathing is steady, but his hands shake as he picks at a nail on his left hand.

“No,” I reply.

“Are you sure? You froze in there…” he continues.

I swallow the lump in my throat, nearly caught ogling Grayson, and decide to go along with his line of thought instead of admitting that I was staring. “I… It took me a moment to realize that I wasn’t expected to join in,” I lie.

But part of me did want to join in. I wanted to kneel before that man, ready to take his cock wherever he damn well pleased. His aura was commanding, demanding surrender, and I found myself yearning for it—longing to yield, to offer my pleasure to someone who desired to master it.

“Should it become overwhelming, I can handle the bar orders. Remember, Maddy, I don’t expect anything sexual from you. I never would,” Atticus assures me, his eyes creased with concern, his voice laced with worry that I might be on the verge of a meltdown.

“I’m aware, Atticus. I’m okay,” I respond, my tone laced with discontent.

The elevator chimes, signaling the arrival of another guest, presumably. I shake off my gloom and turn to welcome the newcomer. But it’s not a guest; it’s Zach, strolling in with his jacket slung over his arm and the top two buttons of his shirt undone.

A glimpse of dark hair is visible, and I quickly avert my eyes as unease washes over me. I haven’t seen him since the day he warned me about Asher…

“How’s everything?” he inquires of Atticus after ending his phone call, heading straight for the Onyx room.

“Excellent,” Atticus replies, guiding his father inside. Honestly, it’s the best outcome, as I wasn’t eager for the impending awkward encounter with Zach.

The evening whizzes by, and unless a drink order comes in, I keep to myself at the bar. That is until Grayson approaches the bar alone. Most of the guests have departed, and I believe only those who participated in the games remain.

He strolls up to the bar and orders another Hendrix, which I promptly prepare. The interaction is a bit strange, but I suspect it’s because he was waiting for a chance to engage me one-on-one.

“May I have my phone back, darling?” he requests.

I nod, attaching his ticket to the paper, noting the collection time before handing him the bag with his phone. I can’t resist glancing at the screensaver as it lights up when my thumb accidentally presses against the screen through the bag.

A woman is bound with rope, her long brown hair cascading down her back in a braid. She’s nude and voluptuous. It’s not an unpleasant sight…

After finishing his drink, he slides a business card across the bar. I look at it with a sense of disappointment that he’s chosen to make this move—that he had to be a jerk.

“Do you like to play, Maddy?” he questions me.

I don’t respond; I can’t. Words escape me. I feel trapped, anxious, unsure of what to do or say.

So I continue to dry the wine glasses with the cloth, keeping to myself in silence as our eyes meet in a silent exchange.

He smirks, and damn, doesn’t he look attractive when he smiles?

“If you’re ever curious, I wouldn’t object…” he murmurs to me just as the woman he’d been fondling earlier exits the room, making a beeline for him, her hands instantly wrapping around his waist.

I observe their interaction closely, appreciating his indifference toward her.

“Tonight was fun,” she exclaims enthusiastically, but he gently pushes her away and makes his excuses to depart.

I also turn away from her as he heads for the elevator, hanging the wine glasses back in their place but watching him from the corner of my eye.

Pick up the card, Maddy!

Damn, it’s a struggle not to do just that, but I can’t resist.

As I reach for the next glass, I grab the card, tucking it into my skirt pocket like it’s forbidden.