Page 69 of Cinderella Is Faking It

At the end of the hall, a heavy door, followed by a set of velvet curtains, finally led us into the belly of Clandestine. It was both exactly and nothing like what I expected from a sex club. There were a lot of genitals and there were a lot of leather and latex clothes, but it wasn’t one huge orgy. It was a modern, dimly lit club with colorful lights, with a dance floor and a bar, and the actual sex part was… no, okay, just as I thought it was tamer than I’d expected, my eyes landed on a very public blow job. “You’re not wearing a color,” I said, pulling my eyes from the man getting sucked off on a leather armchair, a blue ribbon tied around his neck.

Beck pulled me deeper into the club but looked back over his shoulder at me with a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“What did I say?”

“Nothing,” he smiled, “I don’t need a color.”

“Why not?”

“Sweetheart, I’m the guy who fucks the girl with the ribbon.”

My stomach fluttered, but I inhaled deeply to keep the nerves calm. He didn’t mean me. We hadn’t even discussed having sex. He was just speaking in generalized terms. “So it’s a dominance thing?”

“That simplifies it, but yes.”

I furrowed my brows at my own ribbon. “I could be dominant.”

“You’re wearing ballet flats to a sex club.”

“I could be dominant with a preference for comfortable footwear.”

He turned around and I barely had a second to react before his hands were around my waist and he pushed me back, lifted me up. A glass shattered somewhere behind me as he sat me on the bar, and I yelped as he pushed my knees apart, positioning himself between them, one hand on the inside of my thigh. My pulse hammered loud in my ears, drowning out the music and the people around me.

“Ballet flats,” he said again, grinning.

“You’re an ass,” I grumbled, pushing his hand out from under my skirt. He rested his hands lazily on my hips instead, glancing past me to nod at the bartender. Maybe I should have felt more self-conscious about sitting on the bar with Beck between my thighs, especially when I wasn’t wearing underwear, but this gave me an unobstructed view over the main floor of the club. There were several archways leading out of this room, neon signs above them labeling them The Island, The Rainbow, The Loft and The Dungeon. The first three were definitely more ambiguous than the last one. One last archway had a less fancy neon sign above it to show people the way to the toilets. My eyes roamed over the far end of the room, where platforms, about the same height as the bar, offered people the chance to pole dance. Or, in the case of that one woman, hold herself upside-down on that pole while another girl ate her out. The stamina and stomach muscles that had to require…

“Here.” Beck handed me a tall glass filled with something pink, and adorned with cocktail cherries and pineapple slices.

“Thanks.” I took a sip to test the drink first, then gulped down more of it when I realized it was nothing but cranberry juice. He knew I didn’t drink, although I hadn’t explicitly explained to him that it was because alcohol wasnotgreat when you had anxiety. Neither was coffee, but a girl could only make limited sacrifices.

“Thank god, a pretty face.” A man with a big smile and shaggy brown curls stopped at the bar. He gave Beck one of those manly shoulder-claps before motioning for the bartender. Where Beck was all hard lines and shadows, this guy radiated soft comfort, but they had to be around the same age.

“Harlan,” Beck said by way of greeting, turning slightly in a way that let him drape an arm over my lap where the skirt had ridden up. “No Scarlett tonight?”

Harlan made some non-committal noise, handing the bartender a fifty before turning to face Beck. “She’s at the glory holes fulfilling some cumslut fantasy she’s been on for weeks. I’m picking her up in an hour or so.”

The club lights caught on the gold ring around his finger. Assuming Scarlett wore the twin band, that meant his wife was somewhere in this club, having sex with other men, while Harlan was getting a drink.

“And who’s this lovely, young lady?” he asked, stretching a hand out for me. If he noticed Beck’s jaw clenching, he didn’t show it.

Red means nobody touches you.I hesitated but shook Harlan’s hand. Surely introductions weren’t covered by ribbon color, right? “I’m Del, nice to meet you.”

Harlan’s eyes dropped to the streak of crimson around my wrist as he shook my hand, and a wide grin shot over his features. “I’ll be damned, August Beckett brought a red ribbon girl.” He laughed and clapped Beck on the shoulder again. “It’s good to meet you, Del. How does a girl like you end up in a place like this with someone like Beck?”

The implication wasn’t lost on me. I was the younger woman with the ballet flats. Beck was a regular at a sex club. I smiled sweetly. “I once fingered myself at a party in front of him and he has been awfully determined to fuck me ever since. I’m not surethiswill work though. He promised me people writhing in ecstasy, but all I see are middle aged men with bald spots trying to get their dicks wet.”

Harlan choked on his drink and a small smile passed over Beck’s lips. There and gone in an instant. “That mouth of yours,” Beck said, shaking his head at me. “Excuse us, Harlan, I think I have to show my guest the rainbow rooms.”

Harlan spluttered something into his drink as Beck lifted me off the bar, tugging my dress into place in one fluid motion before pulling me deeper into Clandestine.

“Friend of yours?” I asked once we were out of earshot.

“His wife is. Harlan’s okay as long as he’s sober. One drink and he thinks he’s awfully funny and charming.” He walked us through the Rainbow archway into a hallway of doors, each flashing a red light, until he found one with a green light. “In here,” he said, boxing me through the door. The room was barely a room. It was the size of a broom closet. Black walls, illuminated by a dim pink light. With Beck behind me, there was hardly enough room to turn. The lock clicked shut once we were inside. “What is this?”

“What does red mean, Blondie?”

“Huh?” I meant to face him, but Beck took a step forward, colliding with my back, caging me between his body and the wall. I flattened my palms against the cold concrete, too aware of how small this space was.

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