Page 4 of Empowered
Chapter 2
The New York City pavement echoed beneath Sarah’s stiletto heels as she approached the hidden door to one of the city’s more secretive clubs. Across the street, a man in a business suit gawked at her.
Her wig was freshly brushed after coming out of its bag in the hotel room. Makeup as bold as her intentions illuminated her face. Beneath her black double-breasted trench coat was an outfit that would make her prim and proper British mother dig out her Victorian ancestor’s fainting couch. Fishnet stockings poked out from the bottom hem. That was enough to send a message to every man she was about to see in the club.
She had a membership, of course, obtained thanks to her job, of all things. The Monroes owned the most upscale sex club outside of New York City. After two years of wandering around the place and looking at the charts and figures from the backend, Sarah knew exactly how to secure a membership as a “single and willing” member. Sex clubs demanded as many single female members as possible, offering deep membership discounts and plenty of incentive to return many times. Free drinks and food. First dibs on private rooms if they could secure a good date. Their own personal bodyguard for the inevitable weirdo who thought his good looks and money meant he could take whatever he wanted. Other women had that problem. Not Sarah. As soon as she became Angel, she rarely said no.
“Here comes trouble,” the bouncer muttered with a small grin. “Go easy on them tonight, tiger. Lots of new guys in there. Some conference in town.”
“Oh, good. Then I won’t be bored.” Sometimes, when there was no new blood, Sarah deigned to take on a man she had already been with once or twice before. Usually she liked to keep it new. Part of Angel’s persona was tallying up as many men as possible. Part of the risk, which translated into part of the high.
Angel made all the stupid decisions and enacted every fantasy Sarah harbored in her thoughts. Every time she met a new man, it was like Christmas came so many days early.
Maybe this time it would be the best she ever had.
Maybe this time she would be able to forget.
Maybe this time she would reclaim what had been stolen from her.
She could never go as Sarah, the frumpy, recognizable assistant of one of the world’s richest businessmen. But as Angel? She was another hottie, another enticing cunt to fuck.
Why, she got excited from thinking about it.
The club was packed more than usual, but most of the newcomers were women – with dates. Sarah didn’t get the same thrill from picking up a random woman as she did with men. Nor did she care to be the third wheel in somebody’s marriage. So even though she received more than a few curious looks in her direction as she passed through the main room, she didn’t bother anyone with her attentions. Besides,Angelliked to get a feel for the crowd before making any decisions for the night.
Unlike some other clubs she had been to over the years (such as her boss’s) this one did not partake much in public displays of sex and nudity. Most hookups happened behind closed doors of private rooms, and those looking for an exhibitionistic thrill could arrange to get on a stage in one of the back rooms. For all her strange behaviors, Sarah didn’t care much for exhibitionism. Voyeurism, on the other hand, was a different matter she often enjoyed.
There were “private” rooms with two-way mirrors, so the people inside could watch themselves and get off on being watched. Except they couldn’t see who, and how many people, were watching. Few hung around for the foreplay, anyway. If Sarah timed it right, she could walk by a room as a couple made it to the main event. Yet the dark and black lights made it difficult to see details. Just a few half-naked bodies here and there getting it on.
Now, if a girl wasn’t going to hang out in the main roomandwanted to find a partner or two for the evening? She had to know some of the bouncers well enough to gain admittance to the more VIP areas.
Admittance, if one did not pay for the privilege, was restricted. The main VIP lobby was where those staying in New York chose to do their sleaziest business. Women employed by the club got the biggest tips in there, whether they served drinks or conveniently shoved their pussies in men’s faces. Some working girls had a partnership with the management. In return for their unquestioned admittance, they talked their prospective clients into buying the most expensive drinks in the house.
Sarah was neither. She didn’t want to be paid to do what she did, for that killed the thrill. Besides, men behaved differently with women they thought they genuinely seduced as opposed to paying for the opportunity. Sarah wanted her men as emotionally raw as possible.
Soon after learning how this club worked, she made nice with the bouncers – sometimesreallynice. The weekend management was particularly interested in her motives. She wasn’t hooking, and she wasn’t shopping for a rich husband… so what was her story? Why did she want access to these powerful men?
Sarah told them she simply had a taste for the finer things, thanks to her British mother. Well, Angel told them that. Deep inside, the real Sarah thoughtBecause the man who wronged me would be in a room like this.Russell Monroe was served a karma sandwich from hell, but Sarah had never received her personal vengeance.
She never received the closure she craved.
The bouncer standing outside the entrance to the VIP room looked her up and down before opening the door for her. Instantly, the scent of expensive cigars, cologne, and liquor hit her, but not before she spotted a small group of men sitting in a circle of chairs, chatting.
“Good luck,” the bouncer said, before closing the door again. “Tough crowd tonight.”
If men had gathered in this room, it was either to unwind (such as a bachelor party) or conduct serious business outside of the public eye.Yes, some men want to do business in pleasure clubs.That was apparently what Sarah stumbled upon with her chosen group.
The men spoke a mashup of English and some other language Sarah did not immediately recognize. German? No. Swedish? Possibly. Maybe Norwegian.
Ah, if it was none of those, it must have been Danish.
Now what were a group of Danish businessmen doing in New York? Fuck it. Sarah knew.No good.Since when were Danes ever up to any good?
She perched atop a stool, feet swinging and smirk keeping a keen eye on the three men in their flustered circle. Two of the men were older. Tall, thin, either previously blond and now gray or still clinging to a few blond roots.
The third was unlike both of them, although he conversed as easily as the other two.
He was more muscularly built, his frame threatening to burst from his suit, although not for fault of the suit’s tailoring. Sarah knew a custom made suit when she saw one. No, what made this man exceptionally powerful was how he was forced to sling his elbows against his knees and brace his large feet on the ground. He didn’t slouch. Yet his broad shoulders suggested he worked out. A lot.
