Rochelle’s face softens at his rule. Like he just said he loves her. “Yeah, OK. I’d like that.”
I’m trying to figure out if this is a good idea or not, but before I can, Rochelle says, “Let’s have breakfast tomorrow. Like we used to.”
And damn… if that doesn’t sound like a good idea after all. We’ve had some pretty kinky breakfasts in the back of the White Room in our day. “Breakfast,” I say. “Sounds perfect.”
And then I do something I probably shouldn’t. I lean down and kiss her again. And this time my hand is on her leg. Sliding up to her pussy. She moans into my mouth a little, forcing me to make a decision.
Stay and fuck her?
Or get out quick.
I pull away. “See you tomorrow then.”
The whole way back to the Club I have doubts. Is this really a good idea? I do like Rochelle. I certainly love fucking her.
The threesome was fun this afternoon, for sure. I love it. I can’t wait to do it again. But Rochelle and I used to have a lot of fun on our nights out alone. I liked dressing her up, fucking her in the car, and going to parties. And I have a few parties coming up that will require a date.
I’m going to need her at those parties. And then we will go home together. Be alone together. End our night with dirty sex and it will all be very, very familiar again.
I’d forgotten about that. And that goodbye kiss back there… it just reminded me.
How the hell did I forget how much I enjoyed her?
Hmmm. I really need to make sure Quin is around most of the time. Or come up with excuses why I can’t go over there on my nights.
I can’t fall in love with Rochelle. That’s ridiculous. That can’t ever happen. She belongs with Quin.
Doesn’t she?
I pull up to the valet at Turning Point and hand my car over. When I get inside Jordan is already at the Black Room bar, so I make my way over there and hold up a finger to the bartender to ask for a drink.
“Where have you been?” Jordan asks.
“Busy with Quin and Rochelle.”
“So she’s really back, huh? I heard.”
“From who?” I ask. I never told him anything.
“Bumped into Smith at that little European cafe down the road. He was scoping it out for Chella. You guys are opening a tea room next door?” He nods his head in the direction of the new tea room.
“Yeah. What did he say?” I cannot even begin to imagine Smith chatting with Jordan about Rochelle.
“I told him our game was over. Started talking about a new girl I had in mind. And he said you weren’t gonna play. You and Quin were back with Rochelle.”
“Hmm,” I say, taking my snifter of brandy from the bartender. Smith is on to me. That sneaky motherfucker might even be planning something I don’t know about.
“Is that such a good idea?” Jordan asks.
“Why do you say that?”
“You know. Quin, man. He’s all in love with her and shit. You just complicate things, right?”
I shrug. “Maybe we like things complicated?”
“Yeah?” Jordan laughs. “Well, if that’s true, then why are you out? Why not kick the complications up a little? We could still have a game on the side.”
“What do you have in mind?” I ask, knowing I should put a stop to this right now. But that kiss back there with Rochelle. Damn, it felt fucking… good. I’m kinda horny.
“Her?” Jordan says, nodding his head to a woman sitting in a booth. She’s staring at us, looking very fucking uncomfortable.
“You brought her here for a night? Or?”
“Or?” Jordan says. “Your call.”
The young woman is pretty. Oval face. Long dark hair flowing over her breasts. Slim body. Very slim, in fact. Kind of willowy.
“She’s a ballerina,” Jordan says. “New. Just got hired on over at Mountain Ballet for the spring season.”
“Really?” I ask, unable to take my eyes off her now.
“She’s got a very intriguing view of what rough sex means.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah,” Jordan says, almost sighing. “She likes to be dom, but I said, no thanks.”
“She a top?” I ask. “Fuck that. How old is she? Like twenty-three? She has no clue what it means to be a dom.”
“I know, right?” Jordan laughs. “But I’m thinking we can put her back in her place.” He gives me a sidelong glance. “If we try hard enough.”
“Sounds like a helluva fight.”
“Right?” Jordan is smiling so big, I have to chuckle.
“Well, if you can get her to submit for you, let me know. I like them highly trained.”
“Your call,” Jordan says, walking away. “But if I do get her to submit, then I won’t need you, will I?”
I watch him as he slides into the booth next to her, his hands all over her body. She stiffens and slaps his face, making everyone in the bar look over at them for a moment.
Goddamn.
I wonder what her name is?
Rochelle who? I laugh, taking a sip of my brandy.
“Mr. Bricman?” Margaret says in an apologetic tone. “I’m sorry to bother you tonight. But you’ve been gone all afternoon and the Christmas tree people say they need to set things up early this year. They’re overbooked.”
“Early?” I ask. “Fuck that.”
“I know you hate Christmas, but they say they have no choice. The Club takes two days to decorate and—”
“Wait,” I say, remembering the little pumpkin back at the loft. “Yeah, OK. Tell them OK.”
“Really?” Margaret asks, stunned at my reversal.
“Yeah. Rochelle came back. She’s got a kid now, did you know that?”
“No,” Margaret says, her face all scrunched up. “Is it—”
“We don’t know who the father is,” I say, reading her mind. “Either me or Quin. But she’s damn cute, Margaret. So let’s get this Christmas shit started. I can’t wait to see her on Smith’s lap at the party. I’m gonna need a million pictures of that.”
Jordan can have that wannabe-dom girl who thinks she knows what kinky sex is.
I’m in a new game now.
Chapter Ten - Quin
“I guess it’s just us,” Rochelle says after Bric leaves.
We eat for a few minutes in silence. I watch the baby play with her noodles. God, I’m a lucky guy. She’s so beautiful. Both of them. They are so damn beautiful.
But… things feel… different.
“Are you going to stay the night?” Rochelle asks. Probably just trying to fill in the awkward silence.
I think about this for a while, trying to figure out what’s happening.
“Quin?” she asks again.
“You know when you’re in a relationship and your boyfriend goes out with his buddies for a night of drunken debauchery?”
Rochelle just looks at me from across the table. Blinks. “Um… OK.”
“And you’re kinda pissed off about it, but what can you do, right? Be that girl?”
“Yeah.”
“No woman wants to be that woman, right? She wants to be cool about this. She wants to trust her man. She wants to know he’ll come home to her when he’s done with his friends and fuck her. Tell her she’s the only one he loves.”