Invitation to Pleasure: Open Invitation, Book 2 (9 page)

 
    
The scent of his loving rose off her like a
sultry perfume.

 
    
She threw the cotton in the trash can, then
swiveled on her vanity stool. Something shimmered in her eyes, and her lips
were plump from small nervous bites. “Brett, I—”

 
    
He covered her mouth with his fingers.

 
    
“Don’t say anything.” Her stroked her lower
lip with the pad of his index finger. “Wait for the next invitation.”

 
    
She blinked, her lashes long and full even
without the benefit of her mascara. “But—”

 
    
“There’s life as Mr. and Mrs. Brett
Branoff. And then there’s a whole different life at The Sex Club.”

 
    
“You mean—”

 
    
He shook his head. “When the time comes,
just do what the note tells you to do, Virginia.”

 
    
He intended to see just how far he could
get her to go and just how good he could make it for her.

* * * * *

 
    
Beside her, Brett breathed softly,
rhythmically.

 
    
Virginia couldn’t fall asleep. Her body
hummed, erotic images played across her mind, and her flesh buzzed with the
electricity of the club.

 
    
Stacy was so right. There was so much more
to her husband than she’d ever thought possible. He’d conceived of a double
life for the two of them. A place to play out their fantasies. A separate life
that existed only at The Sex Club was like having a secret lover.

 
    
She’d follow the instructions in the next
invitation to the letter. In fact, she wouldn’t be able to resist.

 
    
And she wouldn’t think about how she was
starting to feel far too much emotion in a marriage that was supposed to be
comfortable, convenient, and controlled.

 
    
“Is the steak good?” Virginia grimaced at
her own polite conversation. It had been three weeks since their visit to the
club, and she was starting to think she’d imagined the man Brett had been out
in the parking garage.

 
    
I
want you so badly I’m going to come on your ass if I don’t get inside you right
now.

 
    
Despite the things he’d said then, maybe it
hadn’t been as exciting for him as she’d made it out to be, because at home,
their lovemaking was as predictable as usual.

 
    
“It’s perfect,” Brett said, spearing
another piece of filet mignon. He smiled. “You’re an excellent cook.”

 
    
He complimented her, asked about her day,
laughed with her over an amusing anecdote. They watched TV together, a movie, a
PBS presentation, or sometimes a sitcom. At least when they weren’t attending
one of his frequent business engagements.

 
    
But was he ever going to take her to the
club again? She couldn’t bring it up. Part of the allure was having him do the
asking. Yet the club obviously did something for them that they couldn’t
achieve at home. In their own bed, Brett just wasn’t
wild
for her the way he’d been that night. She had to admit that
lack of ardor made her a little inhibited, too.

 
    
You
do realize you’re asking for more than what you originally bargained for.

 
    
So what? She was only asking for it at the
club. What was wrong with that?

 
    
“How was your day?” she asked, shutting out
the sound of her annoying internal argument.

 
    
“The usual. I vanquished a banker, screwed
a supplier, and secured an exorbitant contract the customer overpaid for.”

 
    
“You’re such a liar, Brett.”

 
    
He was an honest businessman, a fair
employer, and a shrewd negotiator who made sure both parties to an agreement
came out on top. With Brett Branoff, you got the highest quality and the best
deal. Virginia admired his ethics.

 
    
But dammit, she wanted his next wicked
surprise.

 
    
His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Really,
my day was fine. Thanks for asking. Garrett’s coming into town next week. Do
you have time to arrange another party?”

 
    
Oh yes, she had time for another party, a
Sex Club party. She’d have him on his knees...except he wasn’t talking about
that
kind of party. “Yes. Fine. No
problem.”

 
    
In the last three weeks, they’d experienced
a grueling social schedule. When would it slow down? Brett’s business life
included regular socializing, but he also wanted to introduce his new wife to
his associates, which meant more engagements than usual. Virginia loved her day
job, but she wondered how she’d keep up if the pace continued. Thank goodness
for the few nights they did spend at home in front of the TV. Though one trip
to The Sex Club would definitely have gone a long way in recharging her
batteries.

 
    
She was starting to hear sexual innuendo in
every exchange they had. Brett usually called her at work during the day. His
voice over the phone set her skin alight. Husky, intimate, even when all he
asked was if she wanted to go out to eat. Everything he said, no matter how
innocent, made her think of sex.

 
    
What’s
for dinner, Virginia?
She’d have visions of laying herself out on the
dining room table for him to feast upon, his tongue delving deep into her
pussy, teasing her clitoris.
What do you
want to watch tonight?
Brett, stroking that gorgeous cock of his, fingering
her to multiple orgasms, then coming hard on her clit, his heat sending her
over the edge again...

 
    
God. She was driving herself mad with her
fantasies.

 
    
“Is everything all right, Virginia?”

 
    
“What?” She blinked, clearing the images,
but her panties were drenched. “Sorry, what did you say?”

 
    
His lips rose, growing slowly into a smile.
“You’re not paying attention to me. I’m hurt.”

 
    
She patted his hand. “What can I do to make
it up to you?”
Beg me to suck your cock
deep into my mouth and swallow every last drop of come. Tell me you’ll go
insane if I don’t suck you right this minute.

 
    
But he wouldn’t. He’d only displayed that
kind of fervor at the club.

 
    
He propped his chin in his hand. “I get to
choose the show we watch tonight.”

 
    
Oh, she’d give him a show, all right. If he
asked. “And what would you like to watch?” She’d let him hear the sexual
innuendo this time.

 
    
He sat back. “The history channel has a
great documentary on World War II.”

 
    
Bastard. Waiting for the next invitation
was killing her. Her skin felt tightly stretched over her bones.

 
    
“You’re distracted tonight. I’ll do the
dishes while you go upstairs and take a bath. Then we’ll watch the show. Okay?”

 
    
“You’re too good to me.” She smiled sweetly
when what she wanted was for him to beg to join her in the bath where his soapy
fingers could caress her overheated clitoris or aim the detachable showerhead
right on her pussy.

 
    
“Off you go, then.” He started gathering
dirty plates.

 
    
Brett had offered to hire a cook and a
full-time maid. Maybe later she’d like that, but for the time being, she wanted
them to settle into their married routine. Besides, she enjoyed cooking for him
when they were at home for dinner. She was, however, not stupid enough to let
him get rid of the housecleaner they had come in twice a week.

 
    
“Don’t put the scraps down the garbage
disposal. It gets clogged.”

 
    
He eyed her. “I’m forty-three, Virginia. I
know how to do everything exactly the way a woman wants it done.”

 
    
She bit her lip. It wasn’t her dishes she
wanted doing. But if she asked for it, that would spoil everything for her.
Brett had to be dying to do it, or it just wasn’t enough. Which was the whole
problem they had in the bedroom.

 
    
Since when had she started thinking their
bedroom activity was a problem? What had Stacy said?
Six months, a year from now, you’re going to start wanting more.
Virginia hadn’t even lasted a month.

 
    
She left Brett to the dirty dishes. A bath,
an intimate massage, a little release of tension, just a small orgasm. If he
walked in on her, maybe that would set the wild man free...

 
    
A blue chiffon outfit was laid out on the
bed, a small beaded purse attached to the belt. A pair of matching high-heeled
pumps sat on the carpet. Over the heart of the dress lay a cream-colored
envelope and a single strand of pearls.

 
    
He knew she didn’t like gifts, but in some
odd way, the pearls were part of the night, part of the seduction. Beside the
dress, she found a note scribbled with his familiar writing.

 
    
“Just the dress, the pearls, and the shoes,
nothing else.”

 
    
Her hands started to tremble, and her heart
beat so fast it drowned out the sound of running water down in the kitchen.

 
    
Finally.
Thank God.

* * * * *

 
    
He wanted her crazy. So hot, wet, and needy
that she’d do anything he told her to. Beg, suck, scream, everything.

 
    
In three weeks, Brett had fallen in love
with the comfort and serenity Virginia brought to his life. It was more than
pleasant to come home to a woman who wasn’t alternately a raging lunatic, a
tearful mess, or filled with manic happiness before the inevitable crash.
Virginia gave his life gentle stability. He found himself telling her about his
business day and thereby easing some of his pressures. She was the perfect
hostess, the perfect decoration on his arm, the perfect companion for sitting
in front of the TV or reading. Virginia was the perfect wife.

 
    
Yet when he made love with her, it felt
like she was simply expecting...more. More what? He’d told her they would have
a separate, exciting life at the club, but that didn’t preclude hot sex in the
privacy of their own home. He was a man who prided himself on always being able
to predict exactly what his customers needed and supplying it to them in a
mutually agreeable deal. Virginia, though, continued to baffle him in the
bedroom.

 
    
They’d had an extremely busy schedule since
the wedding, his suppliers and customers clamoring to meet the new Mrs.
Branoff. He’d wanted to show her off as the jewel she was. But he’d been
compelled to fit in a Sex Club tryst tonight. Whatever it was Virginia needed
to let herself loose, she’d found it in the decadence of The Sex Club.

 
    
There, he would touch her, taste her, savor
her, and make them both come so hard, it would turn their sex life inside out.

* * * * *

 
    
As before, Virginia was handed an envelope
containing instructions when she turned over her invitation to the club’s
hostess. She shivered, wondering what Brett had planned for her, but she
climbed to the second floor before opening it. People jostled her, someone
offered a bowl of condoms, and the scent of sex wafted on the air.

 
    
The mirror at the top of the stairs
reflected the blue chiffon. The pearls at her throat glimmered in the
flickering light of the wall sconces. She’d piled her hair up in a neat twist,
and her lips were a modest shade of pink. She looked like a prissy society
matron. Except for the spaghetti strap that had fallen off one shoulder. That
one detail said it all. She was a woman, neat on the outside and melted
chocolate on the inside. Virginia ripped open the envelope.