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Adam’s eyes are on fire with curiosity. “Tell me.”
“Babyface! Can you believe it?”
Adam plants a serious lip-lock on me, tongue and all, and I don’t even care. When we finally break for air, he asks, “How? When?”
“My cousin came through for me.” Morgan Fisher, one of my many cousins, is an executive at Palm Records in Los Angeles. He knows Babyface personally, but that wasn’t a guarantee that he’d be available to sing at the wedding.
“Oh, man.” Adam smiles from ear to ear. “The Babyface?”
“The one and only. Isn’t it fabulous?”
“You’re fabulous.” Adam’s tone changes, grows deeper. I can read what he’s thinking in his eyes. He wants to get me naked.
The waiter appears with our wine. He opens the bottle, pours some wine into a glass, and Adam samples it. “Very good,” Adam tells the waiter.
When we are alone again, Adam raises his wineglass. “To us,” he says. “And a very bright future.”
“I’ll drink to that,” I say, then clink my glass against my fiancé’s, knowing that I am the luckiest girl in the world.
Again, Adam slips a hand between my legs and says, “Come on, baby. Let me make you come.”
“Adam…” I protest weakly.
But he’s already stroking me, with much more determination, and against my own resolve, I am getting very wet.
“Do you know how much I love it when you’re wet like this?” he asks hotly against my ear. He slips a finger inside me and wiggles it around. “Let me taste you. Please, baby…”
I moan softly. “Right here?”
“God, yes.”
He pulls his hand away from me and lifts it to his face. He inhales the scent of my essence, groaning his delight, then slowly puts the finger in his mouth. It’s enough to almost make me orgasm.
“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?”
Adam pulls me close and slides his hands over my butt. “Come on, Claudia. Doesn’t this turn you on?”
“Turn me on?”
“Yeah.” He pauses. “All these people—having hot, wild sex.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Sex is natural, babe. Beautiful. Why shouldn’t people openly express how they feel about one another?”
If my mother could see me now, she’d drop dead on the spot. Forget my mother, I’m about to drop dead. If anyone I know ever saw me in this place, I would never live it down. Besides, I’m not into watching other people having sex.
“I want to leave,” I tell Adam.
With a finger, he guides my head to the left. “Look at that woman right there,” he says softly. “Look at the expression on her face as that guy is going down on her.” The woman is biting on her finger and her eyes are rolling backward. “She’s given herself over completely to the experience.”
I watch the woman, listen to her—then I swallow. Disgusted with myself for even looking, I jerk my gaze away. “And she probably doesn’t even know the guy.” I’ve only heard about swingers, never seen them up close and personal like I am now. “Adam, honestly—I’m not comfortable here.”
Adam all but ignores me as he takes my hand and guides it to his erection. My God, he’s rock hard. I’m not sure if I should be appalled or accept the reality that getting a hard-on in this environment is only natural.
A man and a woman, nicely dressed like Adam and I are, saunter in our direction. Alarm shoots through me when the woman, an older white lady, checks me out from head to toe. I lean against Adam, hoping he’ll protect me. From exactly what, I’m not sure.
“Hello,” the woman says.
“Not interested,” I reply quickly, wrapping my arms around Adam’s torso. I step to my right, dragging Adam with me. Adam shrugs as the couple continues to walk by us.
“I know you’re apprehensive,” Adam begins.
“That doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling.”
“Let’s find a corner.”
“What?” I shake my head. “Adam, no.”
“Just for a little while.”
My heart takes a nosedive into the pit of despair. I have done so many things to please Adam sexually, it’s like a slap in the face that he wants to get off while watching others.
He gives me a soft peck on the lips. “I know this is crazy. But we’ll be married soon. And I just want to…try something really different…just one time. Before we say ‘I do’ and commit to each other forever.”
I’m not exactly sure what Adam means. Worse, I’m afraid to ask. Does he want us to get freaky with some other couple and in the morning pretend it didn’t happen?
Because of Adam’s insatiable appetite for sex, I have done a lot of things that I otherwise wouldn’t have. Things I am embarrassed to admit. From exhibitionist-type sex to sex so kinky it would make my grandmother roll over in her grave, I have done my part to make my man happy. I’m a woman of the new millennium and I’m hardly a prude. But swapping partners—that’s a whole other story.
“We’ll have a drink, watch a little.”
“I’m not screwing some other guy. And I sure as hell don’t want to watch you screw some other woman.”
Adam squeezes my hand. “No, no. That’s not what this is about, sweetheart. This is about us. You and me. About the two of us experiencing all that’s out there before we settle down in marriage.”
“Are you unhappy with me?” I ask, dreading the reality that despite everything I try, I somehow fail to please him.
“No, of course not. You have my heart, and you always will. But we won’t be young forever. I don’t want us to have any regrets.”
“Regret that we never swapped couples?” I ask incredulously.
“I don’t want the day to come when we wish we’d tried something and regret having held back. This is about being open to new experiences.”
I really don’t know what to say to Adam. I’m getting that uneasy feeling, though, the one I get when I think I might lose him.
“I don’t want to be with anyone else,” he assures me. “I just want to watch…then I want to go down on you….”
Brazenly—or perhaps not so brazenly given the environment—Adam slips a hand up my skirt. He strokes me with his thumb, and despite my reservations, I feel a zap of excitement.
“I want to eat you with everyone watching,” he adds in a husky voice. “And then, I want to make love to you.”
I’m not sure about this, not sure at all. No, that’s a lie—I am sure. Sure that I don’t want to do this. But I think about my sister, whose husband left her because he said she was a prude, and I wonder if Adam would leave me over something like this. And if he did leave me because of my aversion to swingers’ clubs, then he’s not really the guy I think he is. But still, we’re engaged. I’ve got a lot invested in my wedding day and I’ll be damned if it doesn’t happen as planned.
