1. Brent

ONE

Brent

"I

s it always so rainy?"

I look over my shoulder at Felix, one of my coworkers that I've only just met even though we've worked together for two years. We've had a lot of video chats and meetings, but never a face-to-face until now.

"Yeah," Felix says with a sigh.

I stare out the window at the gray skyline, the fog dense enough to cover the tops of buildings, making me wonder what it's like to work on the top floor of one of those. More often than not, I'm stuck in the basement or in a windowless room due to the damage the sun can do to our equipment.

I drag myself away from the window and go back to my computer. The program code runs across the screen, moving faster than my eyes can read. I'm good with computers. Sometimes better than good. But if coding gets messed up, it can throw everything off. Most of the time I won't know until everything is done, or the shit starts lagging.

"What are you doing tonight?" Felix asks.

I type away on my computer and shrug. "Going to my hotel room."

It's the same thing I've done since I arrived a few days ago. I flew to Portland from Texas as part of my new job requirement. Little did I know when I accepted the promotion that I would have to travel.

"We're having a shindig at a club tonight if you want to come."

The loser invite .

"Thanks for the offer."

It's all I can think of to say instead of an outright no. I get it. Technically, I'm their boss. No one wants to hang out with the manager who comes to town every now and again to make sure everything's running the way it should be.

Felix walks around to the front of my desk and stands there until I look up at him. "Seriously," he says, his expression genuine. "You should come. It'll be fun and it's probably the best club in town."

I take another look at the gloomy sky while I think about Felix's offer and sigh. "Are we celebrating something?"

"It's Clayton's birthday," he tells me, his smile spreading wider. "He works in the finance department."

I nod even though I have no idea who Clayton is, which is probably why I didn't get an invite. "Sure," I say with a shrug.

It'll be nice to go out and hang with the guys. In Texas, I do that often, especially during football season. We meet at the bar on Monday nights, watch some football, and laugh at the big burly dudes trying to one-up each other with who is the better team: Dallas or the Texans. I have no pony in the race, so I don't really care. I just go to hang out, have a beer, and wonder what the hell I'm doing with my life.

My life . . . isn't where I thought it would be at the ripe age of twenty-eight. I thought for sure I'd be married with at least two kids, own a four-to-five-thousand square-foot home, and driving some macho car. But here I am, single. More single than I care to admit.

It's one thing to be single because you're not ready to settle down, but I am. The dating pool sucks. I've tried so many avenues, from church groups to dating apps to sitting at a bar. I get to the third date stage and that's when everything goes haywire. Telling the woman you're on a date with that you're saving yourself for the right person, while she's grinding on your crotch, is a buzzkill. I'm not smooth with words and despite my mind telling me not to say anything, I undoubtedly blurt out the dumbest shit.

Pushing my glasses up my nose, I stare at the screen and watch the sequence compute. It's going to take the rest of the day to finish, which means I should stay and make sure it's right, but when I see Felix move over to the coat rack and put his on, I figure I should do the same. The work day is over according to the clock.

"Where's this place at?" I ask, grabbing my cell off the desk and slipping it into my coat pocket.

Felix grins as if there's something he knows that I don't. "It's here, downtown," he says. "There'll be free drinks and we have a VIP area."

That surprises me. "Oh, wow. Red carpet treatment, huh?"

Felix laughs. "Yeah, something like that."

There's a hint of mischievousness to his tone which solidifies my previous thought. I'm starting to wonder what I've gotten myself into. Nevertheless, I'm curious to see what the night entails.

We meet up with the others in the lobby and head out. Felix introduced me to all five of the guys, but by the time we leave the building I've already forgotten their names. When we start walking, I don't say anything, assuming the bar is nearby. I'm not sure if the others drive to work. Luckily, I don't have to because my hotel isn't far from the office.

As we're walking, Felix and the others joke around, reminding me of the camaraderie I have with the guys I work with back in Texas. It makes me wish some of them had come on this trip. We could've had a great time.

A few minutes later we arrive at a black, non-descript building with purple neon lighting spelling out the club's name: Society X. The parking lot is packed.

"What kind of bar is this?" I ask Felix.

"It's a club."

It doesn't look like a normal club.

"Sports?" I question.

Clayton and the other guys look at each other and laugh. "Sure," Felix replies, slapping me on the shoulder as we reach the entrance.

As soon as the door opens and I hear the loud thumping music, I already know I'm not made for this crowd. On one of my failed dates we went clubbing. It was more like gyrating with a dozen other people, considering how many bodies there were on the dance floor. And you can't really talk to your date over loud music.

I'm the second to last to enter. As soon as I do, I stumble over something. My feet? The carpet? I'm not sure because my eyes are zeroed in on the women on stage, who are doing more than shaking it to music.

"Uh . . ."

I'm fairly sure my mouth has dropped to the floor. My tongue is dry, and I can't seem to swallow.

"This way." The guy behind me pushes me forward to follow the others. I do so, keeping my head down. We go into a private room, and I feel relieved. It's quieter, and there are three women in here who are fully clothed, unlike the ones I saw on the stage when I walked into the club.

Felix elbows me in the side and chuckles. "You okay? You look like you just saw tits for the first time."

I did, at least in person.

I clear my throat. "Yeah, I'm good. That really isn't my scene."

He snorts. "Oh yeah, your wife probably has issues with it. Mine does."

"Then why do you come here?" I ask him.

He motions toward two of the women who have now undressed and are touching each other. "Because of that."

My eyes widen at the sight. "Oh" is the only word I can say in return.

"Yeah," he says with a sigh. "We can look but we can't touch unless they touch us first."

"You touch other women?"

He shrugs and doesn't say anything.

When the last woman who still has some semblance of clothes on approaches me, I feel myself tense. She's attractive, with long red hair and fair skin.

"Can I get you something?" When I don't reply, she leans in and laughs seductively in my ear. "To drink?"

I clear my throat. "Can you direct me to the bathroom?"

Her green eyes sparkle as she nods and takes my hand, inciting a round of cheers from my coworkers. Once we've walked out of the private room, she points down the hallway. "Right down there to the left."

"Thanks."

I wait for her to go back into the room before I seek out an exit sign to make my hasty retreat. When I round the corner, I see the bar. The bartender is wearing a cute tuxedo outfit which covers more of her body compared to what the others are wearing. Then, she looks at me and I'm struck with a set of crystal blue eyes I remember all too well. Her long chocolate-colored hair is still the same, only longer than when we were in high school. One thing was for certain . . . she was beautiful then, and she's beautiful now.

My heartbeat doubles in my chest when we make eye contact. She stares for a moment, undoubtedly trying to remember where she knows me from. I approach slowly.

"Can I sit here?" I ask, nodding at one of the only empty seats at the bar.

She flourishes a hand at the stool. "Yeah, what can I get you?"

The woman is none other than Scotlyn Hill, the one girl I dated for no longer than a week back in high school. A day hasn't gone by that I haven't thought about her. She sets down a black and metallic purple coaster that matches everything else in the club.

I stare right into her eyes. "Do you remember me?"

Scotlyn takes a step back and looks me over. A small smile creeps over her lips, and she laughs as the realization hits her. She nods and then rushes around the bar. We hug and as she presses her body to mine, I don't want to let her go.

"Brent Danson. What are you doing here?"

She squeezes me hard then lets go. "I'm on a business trip," I say as I breathe in her perfume. "What are you doing working in a place"I look around, waving my hand in the air"like this?"

She motions for me to follow her to the end of the bar. "Sit here," she says. "I can talk to you more down here and it's a bit quieter." She puts another coaster down. "What are you drinking?"

"Rum and coke."

She nods and turns around, giving me a great view of her ass which is wrapped tightly in booty shorts. The stirring in my pants gets my attention. This has never been my problem. I'm ready for action, but no one understands the whole I want to wait a bit mindset. It's an antiquated notion, but I've gone this long . . . oh who am I kidding. If I'm lucky enough to make it to the third date it's me chickening out because I don't know what the hell I'm doing. No one has ever been interested in me, unless it's to fix their computer or show them how to get a cracked version of an expensive game or software they want.

Scotlyn sets my drink in front of me. I fish out my credit card, but she shakes her head.

"On the house."

I put my card back in my wallet. "Thanks."

Before I can talk to her more, she heads to the other end of the bar and takes care of some other patrons. I keep my eyes straight ahead, avoiding the strippers in case they approach me. I'll be honest, they scare me.

Not to mention that the one time I glance over my shoulder, I spot a guy in a banana hammock grinding on a woman.

"Holy shit." I turn back and bring my glass to my lips. Laughter sounds and I glance up to see Scotlyn standing there.

"I'm going out on a limb here, Brent. Ever been to a sex club before?"

I choke on my drink. "Excuse me? Sex club ?"

She laughs again, a full-on, throw-her-head-back laugh. "What did you think this place was?"

Now I feel like an idiot. "My friends said it was a club," I admit.

She snorts and points toward the hallway I came from. "You didn't see all the vag and tits when you walked in?"

I ran a hand over my face. "I did, in the private room, but I bailed."

"Are you still the same shy Brent from high school?"

As much as I want to say no, I don't. I take a sip of my drink instead. She stays there, watching me. "I'm not as shy," I finally say.

"Do you remember the night our youth group went bowling," she says, patting my hand playfully, "and I tried to get you to feel me up?"

If I had a mouthful, I would've spit it across the bar.

Scotlyn laughs, her eyes twinkling with humor. "Yeah, you're still my shy Brent." She leans toward me, showing me her ample cleavage. "How did you end up in my club?"

"Honestly, as I was leaving I saw you, and thought there is no way sweet Scotlyn Hill is working in a place like this. How'd you end up here?"

She rights herself and starts wiping the bar down. "Long story, but I bought a bus ticket to nowhere and ended up here. Answered an ad on the noticeboard at my hostel and got the job. During the day, I work for one of the owners."

"Doing what?"

Her eyes sparkle again. "Office work."

Thank God.

As much as I want to know whether she's a performer or not, I can't bring myself to ask. I continue to sip on my drink and wait for her to come back after dealing with other customers. Each time she returns, she has a smile on her face.

"Can I get you something to eat?" she offers.

Eat ? She means food, right? I can just imagine saying yes and then a woman coming out and sitting on the bar spread eagle, waiting for me to munch on her pussy. That would be my luck. Of course, I'd look like an idiot because I've never gone down on a girl before.

Scotlyn puts a menu on the bar. "The kitchen is new," she says. "The club reopened six months ago."

"Health code violations?"

She laughs. "Actually, no. It's pretty clean here. There was a fire in one of the private rooms out back. Bryce, the owner, shut the club down for a bit. They did some remodeling, added the kitchen, this bar, and more privacy.

"Do you feel safe here?"

Her brows furrow. "Yes, why do you ask?"

I shrug. "One of the guys I came with, I'm pretty sure he cheats on his wife here."

Scotlyn grimaces. "It happens. It's a co-ed club. I've seen people hook up with other patrons."

"And that's allowed?"

I thought sex clubs would be outlawed, but what do I know.

"Society X is the hottest club on the West Coast," she tells me. "Others have tried, unsuccessfully, to open similar clubs, but have failed. Nothing compares to what Bryce has done here. If you want to get some action, this is where you come. Literally," she says, with a wink.