I don’t like it.
I’m avoiding The Social Room and Trista because I want to make a point to myself. I’m too wrapped up in this girl and it freaks me out. Since Michelle, I knew I’d never trust another again with my heart. So owning a sex club and fucking different women each night has maintained my position on that matter. I’m on the prowl tonight as I want to prove Trista’s not the only game in town and that there are a lot of other women in this club who would interest me.
I hit The Silo first and note all the rooms are taken. There’s a beautiful girl in the stocks and a line of men waiting to fuck her. That has potential for sure, but nothing else in here is even making my dick stir. The Orgy Room has several potentials, but I only peek my head in for a moment. It’s the same thing each night. Naked bodies tangled and writhing, the sounds of moans and slapping skin and the occasional cry of pleasure when someone climaxes. Lastly, I check out The Waterfall Room, but it’s my least favorite by far. I like fucking in a lot of places but water isn’t one of them, and forget about laying under the waterfall, even though it seems very popular. I don’t want to be busy wiping water out of my eyes when I’m trying to keep my attention on the beautiful woman underneath me. Walking quickly through The Waterfall Room, I step out onto The Deck, which is my second favorite place to fuck.
The Deck is so much more than just an outdoor deck. It’s a place where you can get a drink or a snack at one of the two large cabanas stands outside, but what really sets your teeth on edge when you step out is that the entire deck is made of a thick, clear, acrylic-like flooring that lets you see forty-six stories down. There are also clear acrylic chaises to fuck on. There’s nothing like fucking a woman on her back while seemingly floating in the air. It’s also not for the faint of heart or those with a fear of heights.
The perimeter of the deck has a ten-foot plexiglass wall that is one-way. The people on the Deck can see out, but those in Vegas can’t see in. While The Onyx isn’t the tallest casino in Vegas, the way it’s situated on the strip, no building stands over it so privacy is pretty much guaranteed unless a chopper flies over. All the glass is one-way, which provides the necessary cover so we don’t violate public nudity laws. The bottom side of the clear deck is covered with reflective material, which also has a one-way effect, so someone on the ground with binoculars can’t get a free peep show by looking up. A lot of thought went into this deck before we had it built.
I love the adrenaline rush of being so high in the air and looking down at the Vegas lights below. Makes my cock extra hard.
There’s a gorgeous woman standing at the outdoor bar, her eyes pinned on me. She’s vaguely familiar, and I’m pretty sure we’ve got carnal knowledge of each other. She raises her glass of wine and tilts her head toward the bar… an invitation to come join her.
I think about it for a split second, but dismiss the idea completely. Giving her an apologetic shake of my head, I move back into The Waterfall Room, through it, and out into the hallway. I have an immediate need to see Trista… to see if I have a sexual reaction to the sight of her, because nothing I’ve seen so far has interested me. Either I’ve got it bad for just one girl, or my dick is broken. Neither choice is all that great to me.
I head to The Social Room and make myself look everywhere but the hostess stand to judge the clientele. The bar isn’t overly crowded as it’s late, meaning most have moved back into the other rooms. A couple of people are mingling with drinks, but they’ll soon move to a back room where the clothes can come off and orgasms can be made.
Finally, I slide my gaze over to the podium where Trista is standing, wearing another sexy black dress I’d provided for her and that glorious hair hanging in layered waves over her shoulders and down her back.
And I definitely get a reaction.
Not only does my dick start to thicken, anger suffuses through me. It flashes so hot sweat breaks out on my forehead.
Because Kynan is standing with Trista, and it looks like they’re engaged in an intimate talk that they’re both enjoying. Kynan’s got an elbow on the top of the podium, one leg crossed over the other. Trista’s bent over slightly, resting her forearms on the desk portion of the stand, which reveals an obscene amount of cleavage. They’re standing very close to each other, but what enrages me is the looks on their faces. Trista’s laughing at something Kynan says, and then she reaches out and gives a playful punch to his chest. Kynan’s grinning at her with a bit of a predatory sparkle in his eye, and he catches her hand before she pulls it away. He says something to her, and she gives a bashful smile and a shake of her head before pulling her hand free. But then he says something else, and she’s laughing again.
She’s fucking completely comfortable with him. No embarrassment over the fact he fucked her yesterday with me along for the ride. If I had to take a guess at what Kynan’s doing right now, he’s hitting on her strongly. No doubt wanting to fuck her tonight.
Yes, Trista and I agreed this was an open relationship and each of us could do whatever we wanted, but apparently, my sense of outrage and the caveman-like possessiveness that’s welled up inside of me doesn’t give a shit about what we said. She’s been in my bed for two nights, and I liked it a lot. While what we did last night with Kynan was hot as all get out, I don’t want her fucking him without me there.
Possibly never fucking him again.
Fuck, I’m screwed up in the head.
I stalk over to the podium, my long legs eating up the distance quickly. Trista sees me first, her eyes dancing with humor and her smile wide at whatever Kynan just said. I’m not sure what my face looks like but her smile slides right off when she sees me. Kynan sees it, turns toward me, and merely gives a chin lift. “What’s up, man?”
“I need a word with you,” I grit out at Kynan, the fury evident in my voice. I feel strangely in the right here to be angry, even though I know my display of temper makes me look foolish.
This is confirmed when Kynan smirks at me before turning to Trista. “Talk to you later, darlin’.”
“Bye, Kynan,” she says softly… with affection… and is that desire?
I turn on my heel and walk out of The Social Room, down the private hall and into my office. Kynan follows behind. The minute I hear him close the door, I turn on him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“What do you mean?” he says innocently, but he’s still wearing that smirk.
“You know what I mean,” I growl at him. “Trista’s off limits to you.”
“She wasn’t last night,” he points out. “And besides, since when do you care about monogamy? I guarantee you don’t have any exclusive agreement with her.”