Chapter 15: Crack in the Seams

I knew she would be here. I hate to call it a sick feeling, but that's what it is—a feeling in the pit of my being that she's near, and could show up any minute without warning. She knows I don't want her in my life, and yet somehow a closed door can't stop her from coming in. The lack of an invite would only inspire her to find a crack in the seams and before I can stop her, she's back and there's no way of ever getting her out. This girl moves fast, and could care less about the damage she leaves in her wake. What she's after isn't sex but money, the more dangerous of the two desires in my opinion. She is a horrid, devious bitch and for a spell she was my lover. When I left her, I made it clear we were not to stay in contact. She and I created a toxic brew and I have no use for such a devious whore hanging around. Talia's type of trouble isn't worth the momentary thrill of fucking her again. Still, she haunts me and when I saw her image, dark eyes and pale skin reflecting the red and blue spotlights cascading down on the dance floor, I was captured by it. Her stare only on me—her moving target to pierce and sting—and all I want is for her poison to be out of my body. Something about her pulls me closer, through the sweaty, dancing bodies of the members before I am face to face with a girl I want nothing to do with. Her gaze has caught mine and suddenly no one exists, just she and I lost in another time and space. I can feel time standing still with unbearable silence and her hands on my shoulders and then her mouth on mine. A kiss that shouldn't happen manifests, instantly recalling the taste of her tongue—a taste I can't live without.

“Cherry!” Avery rushes to me, hormones on fire. “I know I said I didn't want to make an order tonight, but I don't think I'm going to last if I don't. I'm contemplating screwing Katherine, and that's a red flag. I need to kiss on one of your girls. It's last minute, but is there any way?”

Reality has rescued me from the vision, thankfully. As if a breath of life was forced into my body, I'm free of the bad vibe and Talia is nowhere in sight. “Avery, my dear, I've got you covered.”

“Thank you, my darling!” Avery is a thousand times relieved. “I'm going to mingle with the sexy bar girls while you set it up. Oh, and it can be a one-way thing. Having only her pussy is fine. She doesn't have to reciprocate this time. I'm so horny I could come in my panties just rubbing against her skirt.” Any sex-starved woman knows exactly what she's talking about.

“I know the feeling,” and I really do, despite the abundance of cunt exchanging I've had today. She kisses my cheek before going in pursuit of libations and carefree flirting. It might be one of the cocktail girls I set her up with. As much as I want to please my members, it's a rule that last minute pairings are subject to availability. Not that the girls who serve the drinks as opposed to performing are any less gorgeous or talented—they are the ones I save for more infrequent activities, like a spontaneous splurge on fine jewelry you may never wear but want, because it's beautiful and needs to be in your collection.

To make arrangements, I head to my office, stopped in my tracks by a very buzzed Devon. “How's the tequila treating you?” Standing in spiked heels is no challenge for the leggy supermodel. She is an obvious expert at posing and slinking down runways in extreme designer footwear. Her lanky stance is taller than mine, and it's been awhile since I've had a lover I could spread out beneath me and lie within their frame. I imagine her legs wrapped around my waist and the scintillating challenge of having to make a choice between riding on her mound or kissing her face.

“Cherry? I have a question for you,” Devon smiles, hovering a few lovely inches over me. “Do you have a second?”

“I certainly do, young lady. How about in my office?” I know that look Devon gives me, and I fear I might just sit her on my desk instead of the couch, but this is not the right time. I have a naked angel waiting in my bed for me. I lead Devon to my private room with full intentions of making this meeting quick.

The doors lock behind us and Devon is impressed with my choice of business décor. “I had my personal designer make a comfortable space for me to meet with members like she did with my main office. I run the business off site. Here, I wanted a room where women could feel comfortable and secure when discussing the details of joining, or other issues they may have. I've made many a lady's dreams come true on this couch.”

Devon drops her cheeks on it, crossing her legs, swinging her ankle in my direction. “I bet you have. Maybe you'll make mine come true, too.”

“It's a possibility,” I say, taking a seat at my desk. “What are yours about?”

“Mine are all over the place, really. My career rules my life.”

“Mine, too. I prefer it that way. Well, what specific dream would you like to focus on? Which do you think I'd be of most help in making happen?” Switching the computer on, I deflect to matters at hand, like securing Avery's appointment ASAP.

“Wait, turn that thing off. I only have one question,” Devon insists.

“Ask then.” I don't turn it off, but I turn away from it to face her completely. She pulls lip gloss out of her purse, gliding on a fresh, red-hued coat before asking, “How do I become a member of your club?”

I didn't expect that question. I had seen her as a guest of Winterlynn's only, not a young woman with the personal and emotional wherewithal to join on her own. “I'm happy to know you have interest. Before I discuss membership benefits or prices, I ask all applicants for a background check first.”

Devon adjusts the pillows behind her back, getting more comfortable. “Sure, cool. You already did one, didn't you?”

“This one will be more extensive,” I explain.

“When do you want me to take it? I can give you my information. There's a small blemish you might find from a few years ago when I was at an industry party in Spain with another famous model, but, I have a feeling you're not the kind of woman who would fault me for being explicit in public.” 

Devon implies she knows me far better than she does, and so I interrupt, “We take our screening process very seriously. As much as I've enjoyed meeting you tonight, we are virtual strangers, and until I evaluate your background, this conversation can't go any further.”

Devon almost laughs, mistaking my straightforward honesty as a game, a tease. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say anything disrespectful.”

“No apologies needed. It’s standard procedure, not a personal judgment. Give Dusty your info when you leave. I had hoped you might want to audition.” I lighten the mood, still interested in a possible make out session, now that business has been taken off the table.

“Me? Come on, I'd be a terrible performer. I do enough of it when I'm working. I don't need a second job. I need a night off.” Devon floats with the vibe, realizing my interest in exploring her thighs like I did earlier.

“Oh my, I know who you are now.” For the first time since she entered the club I actually take a minute to get a good look at her face. Clearly she has tapped into a leg fetish I wasn't aware I had. “You're the cover girl I've been seeing lately on the high end fashion magazines.”

Devon blushes, sincerely self-conscious. “Yes. The photographers I shoot for always want me all done up. I don't even recognize myself sometimes. I hate wearing makeup.”

“I can see why. You're naturally beautiful. I remember the last cover I saw you on, thinking you had amazing bone structure and your legs speak for themselves. If I was a photographer I would probably want to do the same thing. I'd dress you up in expensive clothes, paint you with ostentatious jewelry and send you to the salon for hours.” The idea of having two live-ins is creeping back to mind.

“I do love the salon. Having my hair brushed is one of my favorite things.” She lets her long, brown locks cascade past her shoulders, landing near her bellybutton.

Dusty knocks, coming in before I say enter. “Didn't know you were in a meeting.”

“How could you?” I reply, motioning to the door. “Is this about Avery?”

“Yes, it is. Have you made a decision?” Dusty remains in discreet business mode. I check the computer for staff schedules. 

“Viviana. Tell Avery she's limited to one hour, though.” 

“Done deal. Anything I can get you two?” Dusty looks curiously at Devon.

“Yes, actually. Devon is interested in becoming a member.”

“Really? How exciting.” Dusty switches into “new best friend” mode. “I ran a basic check on you already. Mind if we go a little deeper?” 

“Not at all.”

“So, Devon, now is a good time to go with Dusty. There's an application you'll need to fill out.”

“You sure? We were having such a nice conversation.” Devon whines a bit, taking Dusty's offer of a hand to help her up. 

“Yes, I'm sure.” Suddenly the view of her luscious legs becomes more important, getting a full glance as she leaves with my assistant, since I don't know when I'll be alone with her again, if ever. This is fine, though, as I have other things to attend to with Avery set and my main parties already handled. At least, I think they are.

I check the computer again, seeing Nixie is still in the building. What a shame—I was hoping Marina would have given in by now. I'm not worried that she will, though, and tomorrow might bring me quite a story about the details of Marina's birthday dessert. I shut the office down, having done my job for the evening. Knowing Harlow's at home, and after that unpleasant memory recurring, it's best if I finish early tonight.