Page 5 of The Player's Club

I fluffed my hair, my lids lowering in what I hoped was a seductive expression. “You gonna let me in or not?” I asked. “It’s a little chilly out here like this.”

The guard, though, blinked and said, “ID?”

I laughed and tilted my head coyly. “Where exactly do you think I’m holding my driver’s license?” Then I added a slow twirl, giving him a nice view of my cheeky panties.

He smiled. “You new?”

“Can you tell because my butt is shiny? Do I need to powder it?”

He chuckled and, to my immense surprise, stepped aside to let me in. “Your butt looks A-okay to me.”

So much for the tight security. This one hadn’t even asked for a password! I had to restrain myself from giggling like an idiot. I was so damn excited.

The urge to giggle was stymied, however, when I realized that I had no idea where the hell I was supposed to go. I waited to see another person, maybe one of the scantily clad ladies who just came in, but the building seemed all but deserted. My only recourse was to follow the sound of thumping music, which meant going down a bunch of rather creepy, dimly lit back stairs.

“If I get murdered, I’m coming back to haunt you, Roy,” I muttered to myself as I reached the last level of the building. The music was even louder now. I opened the door . . . to yet another bare hallway. This one had a few people milling about, so I followed them through another door, trying to look like I belonged. But my steps faltered when I got a look at where I was. It felt like I’d stepped through a magical wardrobe and into another world. Whereas the hallways and stairs were all gray concrete and beige walls with fluorescent lights, this area was lit like someone’s boudoir.

The foyer was gorgeous, with velvet walls, a huge chandelier overhead, and delicately patterned tiled floors with lush rugs. Multiple settees were right at the entrance, and both men and women lounged about. Some were wearing lingerie, some slinky dresses. A few of the men had their shirts off, while others looked like they’d come from board meetings, loose ties the only sign that they’d left work.

I felt multiple gazes on me, but despite my scantily clad appearance, I wasn’t underdressed. Not at all. I fit in perfectly here. As I passed by, one man eyed me, giving me a lurid wink.

I shivered and kept going straight ahead, expecting someone to stop me and demand why I was here, but no one did. And as I made my way farther into whatever this place was, I realized it wasn’t just some underground bar or club. There was more going on here.

I approached a large glass window where a few people milled around watching something on the other side, and my eyes nearly bulged from my head. A woman—completely naked—was draped over the back of a chair. A man stroked the woman’s ass for a moment before he knelt and began eating her out.

Holy shit. This is a sex club.

MAC

“Want another?”

I shook the empty bottle back and forth. “Nah. Maybe later.”

The bartender, who’d been working here at The Scarlet Rope for a long time, gave me a once-over. “You doing okay, man?” He raised a brow. “Sorry about the loss today, but you guys always bounce back.”

I grimaced. I wasn’t about to admit that I’d already forgotten about our loss tonight against the Seattle Speedhawks. “Yeah, I’m good. Just a tough loss.”

Before the bartender could turn into a pseudo-therapist, I excused myself. The one good thing about this place was the level of discretion. Even though many people here knew who I was outside of the club, everyone signed an NDA. It was the one place I could be myself without worrying about anything getting leaked to the press.

I wandered from room to room, trying to find something to catch my attention. But nothing did, and I suddenly wished I’d gotten that refill. When a server with a tray of shots passed by me, I grabbed one, then another, downing them quickly.

Normally, being at The Scarlet Rope never failed to get my blood pumping. How could it not, with wall-to-wall sexy women? Everyone was here for the same reason, so it didn’t take too much effort to get one—sometimes two, three, four—to come over. Hard to get wasn’t one of the games people played in this type of place.

A beautiful woman wearing red lingerie and matching lipstick caught my eye. She smiled and licked her lips, her gaze dropping from my eyes down to my dick unapologetically.

Normally, that would’ve gotten me to go over to her.

Tonight, though—tonight, my head was all fucked up.

I meandered around the club like a pathetic, lost puppy. Snap out of it, dude! Look where you are!

I wasn’t exactly sure what was going on with me. Maybe I was feeling the loss tonight harder than I’d thought. We’d been having a streak of amazing games, but tonight, we’d had our asses handed to us. Worse, I’d played one of my best games. That should make me feel better, but thinking about it only pissed me off. It felt like I’d wasted energy on a losing battle. Plus, one of the newest guys on the team—Riley Gibson—had fucking blown multiple chances to score just to show off.I couldn’t stand guys who did that shit.

I forced myself to stop thinking about punching Riley in his big, stupid face. Instead, I grabbed a glass of wine off a tray and considered going to find a good watch room.

Some of the play rooms were open for anybody to view, while others only allowed select members to watch. Those members paid more, usually if they liked specific kinks or fetishes.

I personally had a thing for watching orgies. One lady’s tits getting sucked by a redheaded woman while a guy in a suit fucked her from behind with his pants around his ankles. Nothing was better than watching some two-on-one action. It was even better when there were eight or ten in the room, all moans and squeals bouncing off the walls, filling the room, the slapping sound of flesh against flesh—