Feels Like Falling Read online

  Everyone put their masks back on and trailed behind Robin until they reached a door. The sound of music and the thump of the bass grew louder with every step. “Have fun,” Robin said, opening the door. But before Peyton could escape, Robin touched Peyton’s arm and said, “Hey, if you need anything, just ask. We’re here to make your experience at Eden an enjoyable one.”

  Okay. Robin was either a very friendly hostess, which meant she was doing her job extremely well, or she was hitting on her. Peyton was grateful that she could hide behind her mask at that moment and said, “Oh yeah, thanks,” and walked through the door.

  “Come on, sweet tits, let’s get you liquored up. I have a feeling you’re going to need it,” Tasha said, grabbing Peyton’s arm.

  A drink sounded good. A few drinks sounded even better.

  They made their way over to the bar and ordered a round of shots. While they waited for their drinks, Peyton looked around at her surroundings and took a moment to people watch, which wasn’t something she got to do all that often. The first thing she noticed was how comfortable everyone seemed to be, which was a little strange. The layout of the bar, the expensive liquor being served, and stylish finishes throughout the room reminded her of some high-end club you would find in New York City, the kind where uptight men would sip scotch and snooty women dangled wine goblets between two manicured fingers. It was a bit of a contradiction. But then again, it was Masquerade Night. Maybe people were feeling more comfortable, more secure because of their masks, that extra layer of protection from the world and its harsh judgement.

  Peyton wasted no time when their drinks arrived, and she drained hers immediately. The sweet liqueur burned as it slid down her throat, but she didn’t care. “Thatta girl!” Tasha shouted. Peyton signaled the bartender and ordered another shot, but this time she asked the clean-cut bartender for something that wouldn’t blister her esophagus. He smiled, displaying a perfect set of pearly whites, and poured her a shot of something he called The Silent O. She wanted to ask handsome bartender man if the O stood for orgasm, but she didn’t out of fear of sounding like a jackass.

  Surprisingly, The Silent O went down easily, and she relished that cozy warm feeling that spread throughout her body. She hadn’t had a good buzz for awhile, mainly because she was so far removed from the party scene. But she hadn’t always been such a wallflower. Those first couple years after she had signed the contract that made her more financially secure than she could ever imagine, she had fallen in with the wrong crowd and partied hard. Although she had never gotten into hard drugs, alcohol had become her steadfast friend, which had often led to hookups with men she barely knew.

  She wasn’t proud of that period of her life, though she knew why she had escaped her mind with alcohol and sex. It didn’t matter that the trauma she had experienced occurred years before. The memories hadn’t faded. It had taken a phone call from her then-worried twenty-year-old sister to discover that she had reached rock bottom. Lainey had called after seeing a picture of Peyton in some ratty magazine. Most candid celebrity photos were doctored somehow, but Peyton couldn’t deny what Lainey had seen. An eight-by-ten picture of Peyton half-naked, drunk off her ass and sitting on some guy’s lap had been published for all the world to see.

  Embarrassed that Lainey had seen her like that, that Gina and Gus had most likely gotten a glimpse of how messed up she was, Peyton started to see her therapist again. Within months she had cleaned up her act, dumped those assholes who claimed to be her friends and concentrated on her career, which meant that her social life became nonexistent. Which meant her sex life had stalled, forcing her to rely more on her own hand to get her off than men she didn’t want to get to know. But once in a while she would allow herself to get fixed up on a date just to release some pent-up frustration. Guys did it all the time. Why couldn’t she? As long as the men she slept with were also looking for sex with no strings, what was the harm in it?

  And speaking of frustration, Peyton had reached her limit. The combination of not having sex for almost a year and meeting Luke McGinnis, the sexiest man she had ever laid eyes on, made her almost ravenous. She needed to get a hold of herself. By omission, the man basically admitted he either had a girlfriend or a wife. Which meant he was off limits.

  Just thinking about Luke standing there listening to the conversation she had with Tasha made her queasy. While she had been trying not to die from embarrassment, Luke had set her straight and told her that he wasn’t gay. But what he didn’t respond to was the comment she had made about him being taken. Why address one and not the other? The answer was simple. He had a girlfriend or wife. Maybe two point five kids. He probably hadn’t gotten around to putting up the picket fence around that gorgeous house of his, but he would. Especially if he intended to get a dog. A Golden Retriever. Maybe a yellow Lab. One that was family friendly and wouldn’t bite his two point five kids.

  Peyton needed another drink and luckily Tasha was right behind her. Another Silent O was handed to her, which she accepted and tossed back. Now it was time to dance.

  They moved their party to the dance floor which was located toward the back of the club. Unlike the sophisticated, upscale ambiance of the bar they had just been in, this room was quite different. The low-lit room, the pounding bass reminded her of any club USA, but something was…different. It wasn’t the sight of couples grinding up against each other that captivated her, it was the various combinations: man with woman, man with man, woman with woman that made it difficult for her to look away. They all appeared so comfortable with each other. She was taking it all in when she felt someone behind her and heard a man ask, “May I touch you?”

  May I touch you? Did he just ask permission to dance with her? Not that there was anything wrong with that, but it wasn’t something she heard often when she did venture out. Typically, the guy would just start thrusting from behind and if you were interested you returned the favor and moved to the music.

  Peyton looked over her shoulder at the guy and then turned her attention to Tasha. Tasha lipped a big fat no, grabbed Peyton’s hand and pulled her away, safely out of the polite man’s reach. They continued to dance, but less than a minute later a guy approached Tasha from behind and asked, “May I touch you?”

  Different guy, same question. Huh?

  Peyton leaned in and whispered to Tasha, “Why did he ask that? That guy you told me to reject asked me the same thing.”

  “Asking before touching is one of the club’s rules. Everything that goes on here must be consensual, and that includes bumpin’ uglies on the dance floor. It’s one of the main reasons I became a member. You don’t have to worry about being taken advantage of here. It can’t happen because they won’t let it happen,” Tasha said, pointing to the many buff security guards surrounding the dance floor.

  Peyton looked around the room and then it hit her like a ton of bricks. Holy. Shit.

  “Holy fuck, this is a sex club…you brought me to a sex club!”

  Tasha’s smile consumed her flawless face. “Congratulations! I was wondering how long it would take you to figure that out. Now that you know, what do you think?” Tasha was still moving to the music, but Peyton was now as stiff as a board and cemented in place.

  “It’s…um…okay…I guess.”

  Tasha roared with laughter, loud enough to hear over the bass.

  Peyton felt like an idiot. She had never been to a real sex club before. The only thing she knew about these types of places was what she read in her naughty erotic romance books. With fresh eyes she glanced at the couples and threesomes on the dancefloor. The grinding she observed was similar in heat level to any other club, but there was a charge in the air that Peyton found difficult to dismiss. “So where are the…well, you know?”

  “Playrooms?” Tasha asked with a wink.

  “Yeah.”

  “Upstairs. But they’re for members only. Though I can probably ask Robin to give you a tour if you’re interested.”

  “Maybe late
r. I think now, though…is a good time for another drink. Want one?”

  Tasha shook her head. “I’m good. Or at least I will be when that sex on a stick presses up against me from behind,” Tasha said, nodding to some guy walking towards them.

  Peyton smiled and then escaped to the bar. The same bartender from before approached her and asked her if she wanted another Silent O. She’d had enough O’s for the night and decided to order a beer, which was safer. She could hang longer and avoid getting sick if she finished out her night sipping on light beers rather than the hard stuff. The bartender came back with a Corona and a pint glass. She waved away the glass and took a swig right from the bottle. “Having fun, sweetheart?” the bartender asked.

  “I don’t think fun would be the best word to describe it. More like entertained,” she said.

  “I take it you didn’t know what you were in for tonight, huh?”

  “Just found out about less than a minute ago, actually.”

  He chuckled. “So, you’re entertained. That’s good. But are you curious?”

  “About what goes on upstairs, you mean?”

  “Yes.”

  “I guess…a little.”

  “Enough to let Robin take you on a little tour of the place?” he asked, nodding over her shoulder.

  Peyton followed his gaze and found Robin descending the stairs…stairs that Peyton now learned led to the playrooms. How bad could it be? Some spanking, rope play, maybe a ball gag or two? She had wondered what an actual playroom looked like. What was the harm in seeing one for real, not just in her imagination while reading about them? “Sure, why not?”

  The bartender called Robin over.

  Within seconds, Robin had her ascending those same steps she had just come from. With each step she climbed, a new butterfly sprang to life in her belly. Robin must have sensed it or maybe she was just used to people getting jittery when they were about to see a possible gangbang up close and personal for the first time, because she stopped and said, “At any time if you wish for the tour to end, you need only to tell me.” Robin gave her a warm smile, which seemed out of place for what she was going to expose her to, and they continued up the steps to the first door on the left. A green circle was prominently lit to the right of the door.

  “Good, we can go in. The green circle means the guests inside welcome others to watch.”

  “They really don’t mind if we just go in and stare at them while they have sex?”

  Peyton expected Robin to laugh at her stupid question, but her hostess didn’t even crack a smile. In fact, Robin seemed all business ever since they had left the stairway and reached the second floor. “No, they don’t mind at all. It’s what they prefer, actually.”

  Peyton let those words sink in. Would she ever be comfortable with people watching her have sex with someone?

  Hell no.

  “Peyton, everyone is here because they choose to be here. All members undergo a lengthy screening process to ensure that Eden is the appropriate place for them to fulfill their needs.”

  “Needs?”

  “Everyone has needs. Eden was created so people can explore them in a safe and nonjudgmental environment.”

  “I don’t want to offend you, but is all this…legal?”

  Peyton waited for a look of disgust or disapproval to wash over Robin’s face, but it never came. Instead, she answered the question easily and with a tone that was neither angry nor condescending. “Members pay an annual membership fee to belong to Eden. They do not pay for sex or sexual favors because that would be prostitution. If a prostitute is what one needs, he or she can easily be obtained four blocks over on Atlantic City’s main strip.”

  “You keep saying the word ‘need.’ Why is that?”

  “Because that is what Eden satisfies. What it promises to fulfill. Members come together, form relationships based on need. It is a need-for-a-need understanding.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you, it’s just…”

  “I’m not offended. I’ve been asked that same question many times. And honestly, people should ask that question and feel relieved when I tell them that they haven’t found themselves standing in some seedy sex house that could get busted by the authorities. I want you to feel comfortable to ask questions or walk away if that is what you desire. Okay?”

  “Okay. I think I’m ready,” Peyton said, forcing a smile.

  Robin nodded and opened the door. Peyton followed her into the room but stopped when she saw what was happening, or what was about to happen on the bed. A naked, blindfolded woman was lying on her back, each of her limbs tied to one of the four bed posts. A man was standing at her bedside stroking himself with one hand and caressing the woman’s bare belly with the tip of a flogger. The man tightened his grip around his cock when the woman whimpered.

  Was she hurt? In too much pain to form a coherent plea and beg him to stop?

  “More…harder,” the woman moaned.

  Definitely not hurt.

  The man raised the flogger and whipped her belly, causing her skin to turn a feverish pink. But it wasn’t the welt on the woman’s stomach that Peyton focused on. Her attention had shifted to the wetness, the evidence of the woman’s sudden release, how it dripped from her pussy and onto her inner thighs. This woman wasn’t hurt, but so aroused it looked like she was about to chew her way out of her restraints and relieve the ache between her legs herself.

  Peyton had been in such a trance watching the woman that she had failed to notice that the man had at some point sheathed himself with a condom and had tossed his flogger to the floor. He knelt on the bed and was working his way up the woman’s body when Robin touched Peyton’s arm and whispered that it was time for them to leave. She would have been lying to herself if she said she didn’t want to tell Robin to fuck off and leave her alone, so she could be free to watch these people screw their brains out. But she complied and let Robin lead her away from the couple that had just aroused the shit out of her. There was not a doubt in her mind that if she touched herself right now she would detonate within seconds.

  “You okay?” Robin asked.

  Peyton knew she was blushing. Her entire body was on fire. But she lied and said, “Yep. Where to next?”

  Robin escorted her over to another door which also had a green lit circle. “This is our communal room. You will see multiple couples and most likely different combinations. Again, everything you see is consensual.”

  There was that word again.

  She liked that word.

  No. She loved that word.

  They entered the room, but this time something wasn’t about to happen, couples were already fully engaged in the act. A bed, larger than any king-size bed she had ever seen, acted as the room’s centerpiece. Like Robin had said and prepared her for, there were multiple couples having sex. Peyton’s eyes gravitated over to a trio consisting of one man and two women. The man was fucking one of the women from behind while the other woman was on her knees and sucking the nipple of the woman that was getting fucked. The man groaned and then said to the woman he was fucking, “Eat my wife’s pussy.” The man’s wife released the woman’s nipple, laid on the bed and spread her legs. The woman, who was still getting impaled, dove right in and started licking and sucking on the wife’s clit. It took less than five seconds for the trio to find a rhythm that had them all screaming and riding out their orgasms.

  Holy shit.

  Peyton’s pussy throbbed and begged for relief. It wasn’t like she wanted to be part of their little love train, but Christ if that wasn’t hot as hell! Peyton barely heard Robin tell her that they were moving on to their next room. Back out in the hallway Robin asked, “Is a threesome something that you would be interested in, Peyton?”

  As arousing as it was to watch that husband and wife go at it with another woman, Peyton knew that she would never be able to participate in a threesome. Although she had never had a boyfriend or anything close to it, she knew without a doubt that she was
a one-man woman.

  “No. I know myself enough to admit that I wouldn’t be able to share my boyfriend or husband.”

  “I understand and that would be respected here. During your screening process you would want to note that ménage is not an activity you would want to engage in.”

  Peyton nodded.

  “Okay, ready for one more room?”

  “Sure.”

  She followed Robin but stopped in front of a door with a red lit circle. “What does a red lit circle mean?”

  Robin smiled but for the first time it didn’t reach her wide, baby blue eyes. “A red light means members are not permitted entry and that the couple behind the door desires complete privacy.” Robin gestured to a room across the hall. “Let’s try this one instead.”

  Peyton nodded but for some reason she couldn’t stop staring at that red lit circle. What was going on behind that door?

  The sound of moaning broke Peyton’s strange fascination with the forbidden door and she followed Robin into the room across the hallway. The moans and grunts intensified as she crossed the threshold, but those arousing sounds didn’t highjack her attention. No, what both captivated and terrified her was the woman who was crouched on all fours, wearing what appeared to be a school uniform and no panties and getting pounded from behind by a man with a dick that stretched her to capacity.

  “Take my cock. Take it all,” the man said through his grunts. He gripped the woman’s long blonde braid and forced her to peer at him over her shoulder.

  Peyton locked eyes with the woman…and fought the urge not to vomit right there on the floor. No. It can’t be. The rational side of her told her that her mind was playing tricks on her. But her emotions won out and so did her demons. Her breathing quickened, and the room started to spin.