The Bet by Max Monroe
Wednesday, April 4th
Sophie
The cool evening air causes goose bumps to form on my arms and my legs, and even harden my nipples beneath the dress I chose to wear tonight. It’s a silky black number that ends just below my knee but has a slit on one side that nearly reaches my right hip. The material is so thin, provides absolutely zero warmth, and is completely open at the back.
Basically, the absolute last dress you want to be wearing when it’s anything but over seventy degrees outside. And it might be early spring in New York, but it’s far from seventy degrees.
I check the address on my phone once more, the one Jude sent to me, and even though the cab driver managed to drop me off on the street where I thought said place was located, I don’t see anything but an alleyway that’s lit up by one pathetic streetlamp.
This can’t be right.
I glance over my shoulder, prepared to seek out my cab driver for some help, but all I witness is retreating red lights, making it apparent that he’s hauling ass to his next destination.
On a sigh, I glance down at my phone again, and 6:55 p.m. stares back at me.
I’m five minutes early, which is a rarity for me, but since I skipped my therapy appointment last minute so I could meet Jude on time, I was dressed and ready about an hour earlier than I normally would.
Besides our daily text conversations, this will be the first time I’ve seen him since I had dinner with his family. Six days probably shouldn’t seem like a long time, but after being inside each other’s pockets twenty-four seven in Vegas and the first few days after that, it kind of feels like an eternity.
I’ve grown so used to seeing him all the time, it feels like there’s now a hole inside my chest that only he can fill.
I’m sure Dr. Winters is probably wondering what would keep me from our standing Wednesday appointments, but my track record is starting to show that whenever Jude wants me to meet him somewhere, I drop everything and do it.
Which is kind of preposterous.
Yeah, well, that’s what you do when you’re falling in love with someone.
I roll my eyes at myself and ignore my pesky subconscious. Instead, I distract my mind by copying the address into Google Maps to figure out where I went wrong.
But when I hit enter and the map updates, I find that I’m right where I’m supposed to be.
Seriously?
I glance around the alleyway and find nothing but a few dumpsters and discarded trash on the sidewalk. And when I look directly in front of me, I just see a big steel door with no windows and a fire escape that resides directly above it.
A shiver of discomfort rolls up my spine and I start to call Jude for an explanation, but just before my finger hits the phone-shaped button under his name, I spot his tall, muscular form turning the corner and heading down the street in my direction.
“Shit, babe,” he comments as he comes to a stop in front of me. “You’re early.” He glances at his watch and grins. “Well, actually, you’re right on time, but for you, that’s early.”
“Uh…mind explaining why you have me standing in the middle of a deserted alley?”
“I will,” he says with his notorious playboy smirk, and he reaches out to grip my hips to pull me closer. “But first, I want to say hello.”
Lips to mine, he takes my mouth in a deep, tantalizing kiss, and he doesn’t release me until I’m breathless and being cold is no longer an issue.
“I missed you, Soph.” My heart jolts against my ribs, and he brushes his lips against my mouth, once, twice, three times. Then, he leans his head back to lock his now playful gaze with mine. “You look stunning, babe. That dress could give a man a heart attack.”
“Thank you.” I blush and giggle in the way that only Jude seems to be able to make me do. “And…I missed you too.”
The words feel all-too-right on my tongue. Because I did miss him. A lot.
“Ready to get wild?” he asks and waggles his brows.
“I am, but…I’m still not understanding how this alley leads to anything but getting robbed.”
Jude chuckles. “Babe, it’s not always what’s on the outside, but what’s on the inside.”
He takes my hand and steps up to the windowless door. Two hard knocks and another four rhythmic, smaller ones sound from his knuckles as they rap against the steel.
Ten seconds later, the hinges screech as the door slides open just enough to reveal a man in a black shirt with a shaved head standing behind it.
“Password,” he demands, and Jude doesn’t waver.
“Eleanor Roosevelt’s G-string.”
I blink. I’m sorry… What did he just say?
To my utter surprise, the door opens farther, and the bald guy gestures for us to walk inside.
Once we step into a darkened entryway, the man shuts the big steel door with a slam that startles me enough that I jump. Jude squeezes my hand for reassurance.
“The rules are simple,” the bald guy states firmly and crosses his arms below his beefy chest. “Anything that happens has to be consensual. And if it’s consensual, then anything goes.”
Consensual? As in sex?
My eyes jolt to Jude’s face, but he only offers a wink and another encouraging squeeze of my hand.
“Have fun.”
Those are the last two words out of bald dude’s mouth right before he opens another door and Jude is whisking me inside and down a long hallway with strip lighting guiding our path.
We walk through another two doors, and then we come face-to-face with the mother lode, and my brain just about wants to explode out of my skull when I take in my surroundings.
Oh. My. God.
I’m rapidly reminded of the underground spot we went to after the Raines Law Room, only this place is way different. More refined and opulent, but intense. And far more obvious in what is supposed to happen beneath the shadows of the dim lights and between the gold-embossed and velvet-curtained walls.
I say this because the first people I lay eyes on are not at all being discreet about the sex they’re having in a private but visible booth that sits to the side of a bar where two women are tongue-kissing each other in front of their glasses of wine.
My ears note the soft, sultry music that adds to the ambiance, but my eyes are still busy trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. My gaze is more of a shocked gape than anything else, and it’s being yanked and tugged around the room like a yo-yo on a string.
People kissing. Touching. Having sex. Some are dressed. Some are half dressed. And some are completely naked. But all appear to be single-minded in their goal of pleasure.
“Baby, welcome to the real Secret Club,” Jude breathes hotly into my ear. “Hardly anyone knows about its existence, and the ones that do, come here to experience their deepest, hottest fantasies.”
“Is this a…a…sex club?” I whisper and have to gulp down the shock once my ears actually hear the last two words leave my body.
“One of the most prestigious underground sex clubs out there.”
“W-what exactly are we going to do here?” I ask, even though that might sound like the dumbest question on the planet. Obviously, we’re supposed to have sex. Duh.
But the real question I’m trying to ask is…are we going to have sex in front of other people?
“Think about it, babe.” He brushes his hand down my arm and rests it on my hip. “Fucking in a restaurant? Fingering you on a roller coaster? You giving me oral on an elevator? You and I, we have some serious exhibitionist tendencies. And we’re here to explore them further.”
I don’t have a response to that, but all I can think is, but no one knew we were doing those things. It was our secret.
Jude presses his hand to my lower back and guides me down a corridor, stopping right in front of a wall that is made from clear glass and looks directly into a room that is set up like a normal, sophisticated bedroom. On one wall, a giant king-sized bed is covered in pillows and a thick white comforter that looks cozy to sleep beneath.
There’re framed photos hanging on the wall. A nightstand with a lamp that even has a phone charging cord hanging off it. A desk in the far corner with a leather-bound notebook, a gold pen, and a potted green plant sitting on top. And a long, tall bookshelf filled with all sorts of hardback books.
It’s actually a really nice, normal bedroom. But again, it’s in the middle of a secret sex club with a translucent wall so anyone can look inside.
“This is our bedroom for the night,” he whispers into my ear. “To do what we want, to fulfill our deepest fantasies. And to let anyone who wants to see it, watch from right here.”
There’s a part of me that’s incredibly aroused by the idea of someone watching Jude kiss me, touch me, fuck me. But there’s also a part of me that is so undeniably nervous and uncertain of whether or not this is something I can do.
I want to be spontaneous and do wild, crazy things with this man, I really do, but everyone has a limit. Is this one mine?
“Are you ready?” he asks, and I look up and examine his face.
I don’t know what I want or need to find there, but something about his steady, controlled gaze and the excitement I can see beneath the surface is starting to make me feel like it might be okay to give this a shot. He’s never once put me in a dangerous situation. If anything, he’s gone out of his way to make sure I’m safe. Sometimes, even in a bit of a territorial way I find to be pretty damn sexy.
But still, the stark reality is that this isn’t something I would ever picture myself doing.
Yet, you’re here. And you’re already turned on.
I think about all the other times with Jude that I’ve pushed past what I’ve thought were boundaries, only to find out they were roadblocks I’d set for myself. Unnecessary mental obstacles that were preventing me from doing things I wanted and liked and enjoyed.
And if you’re this aroused already, then that’s saying something…
“Let’s do it,” I whisper, letting the response fall from my lips before I can swallow it back down and start a mental loop of doubt and second-guessing.
Jude takes my hand into his and guides me away from the glass, down a back hallway, and into a side door that leads directly into the bedroom I just saw a few moments ago.
But only this time, I’m on the other side of the glass. And I’m sitting down on the bed. And I’m doing all of this knowing there’s a possibility that people might watch whatever happens within these walls.
Oh boy, I just hope I’m ready for this…