
Becky stepped down into the glittering ballroom. She tossed the knot of curls tied with silk maroon ribbons, luxuriating in the sensation of her soft locks caressing her bare neck. For a moment, she closed her eyes and listened to the odd sounds.
A string orchestra played some ancient music, Mozart she supposed. There was a low murmur of laughter and chatter. Heels scuffed across the parquet floor. If she listened hard enough, she convinced herself she could hear the flames flickering in the many candle sconces and glittering chandelier hanging overhead.
This was a dream. How Lady Velvet had managed to transform Club Divine from a nightclub full of leather, neon and chrome into this anachronistic scene, Becky didn’t care to figure out. The fact was, tonight was hers. All hers.
She even felt beautiful! The gown of dark maroon silk hugged her breasts and narrow waist. Becky took a deep breath, testing out the limits of the whalebone corset forcing her cleavage up and reminding her to stand straight. The shots of gold thread woven throughout the hooped gown glittered under the flickering lights.
Never had Becky thought that getting dressed could focus a person so keenly on the anticipated outcome of the night. She counted up the stockings, garters, chemise, pantaloons, hoops, petticoat, corset, sinfully gorgeous gown, expensive diamond necklace, bracelet, earrings, white elbow-length gloves…
She took another step into the crowded room, flicked open the painted fan and allowed the assembled male guests to look their fill. Which one would it be? A tall, dark, man with graying temples edged a bit too close before bowing and begging her pardon.
Her heart began to hammer against her ribs, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Too soon, the familiar black dots began to crowd out her vision. It was happening again. He had said two words. “I’m sorry,” and turned away. That was all. And it still reduced her to a quivering bag of bones.
Staggering to the edge of the floor, Becky sank onto a velvet covered bench, gripping onto its corners. She studied the pattern of the floor and allowed the music to draw her back from the brink of panic.
“Remember what I told you, Miss Rebecca?”
Becky turned to face the confident Lady Velvet. The master seductress had embraced the opportunity to join in on the costume ball. The gown of black silk left nearly nothing to the imagination. Her full breasts almost spilled out the top of her gown, the décolletage plunging in a deep V. She studied the red lips, rouged cheeks and eyes that knew too much. She turned away to hide the deepening blush. “I guess it doesn’t matter if the man is dressed in jeans and t-shirt or a pair of breeches and heels. I can’t stop it.”
The younger woman leaned in, her hot breath scorching Becky’s ear. “Can you not believe that you are desirable, Miss Rebecca? Even in a fairy tale? I never disappoint my clients, my dear. And I’ve selected a rather fabulous gentleman for you. He wouldn’t dare mistreat any of my special guests.”
Becky swallowed, opening and closing the fan. “I know. But what if I disappoint him?”
Velvet placed a black gloved finger, adorned with a huge diamond ring, over her lips. “Shhh…hush.”
Becky drew back from the hand skimming her cheek.
“I can promise you, Miss Rebecca, that your charms would never disappoint a healthy, eager male. Trust me?”
She thought back over the shattered marriage, endless sessions with a shrink, sex therapist, and the drugs prescribed for the panic attacks. Thirty-five years of sheer terror and now she sat in a club that no member of her church even acknowledged existed in the hopes of finally feeling…just once… “I just want a kiss.”
“I know, honey. Tonight…look at me.”
Biting her lips, Becky faced the woman who held her future.
“Tonight, you will be kissed by a gentleman who is here only to prove to you that you are a desirable woman.” Velvet stood, shook out her skirts and blew a kiss to Becky. “Sit still. He’ll find you.”
Before Becky could thank her, she winked and vanished into the growing crowd on the ballroom floor.
Shortly, a maid appeared bearing a silver tray. Becky recognized the girl called Chrissie who helped her to dress earlier. The pale blonde curtsied and offered the tray. “Take the champagne and the note. Both are from an admiring gentleman.”
She sipped at the wine, the bubbles working their magic, and unfolded the note.
Chrissie sank down next to her. “I’m dying to know what he said. He’s possibly the most divine creature here tonight. Do you like my dress?”
Becky glanced at the girl. She appeared enamored by her pale pink maid’s gown. Grinning at the youthful self-absorption, Becky turned to the letter.
“I’ve always appreciated the beauty of a rose, its petals fully unfurled. Dance with the maid. I desire to see you move. An Admirer.”
Becky searched the room, but could find no person with sharp eyes and lascivious grin. Is this what Lady Velvet meant? Half of being able to enjoy sex was having the strength to permit yourself to be seduced.
The pretty blonde leaned close, peering at the note. “Dance? I love to dance. Do you?”
“Do you know who the note is from?”
The girl laughed. “Of course, I do. My mistress has the entire evening completely under her control.” She sobered and covered Becky’s hand with her own. “Lady Velvet would never permit you to be harmed. She only desires your happiness, tonight. Come…” She stood up and held out her hand.
“I don’t know how to dance to this music.”
Chrissie giggled and gestured to the floor. “Neither does anybody else. We are all fish out of water. I do know how to waltz. I could show you.”
Still trying to suppress the last shudders, Becky stood and followed the maid onto the floor. After some laughter and awkward moments, Chrissie remembered how to lead and had Becky stepping in time to the music.
“This is ridiculous. I can’t do this without looking at my feet…and my skirt hides them!” All at once, Becky felt insecure and lighthearted.
“Just follow my lead. Both my hands will let you know where we are going next. Watch me.”
Slowly, she relaxed into the evening. They managed to make a complete turn about the room. Chrissie begged others to join in.
The room began to sway. The scent of roses and beeswax mingled with exotic perfumes from the other costumed women. The music came to an end.
Becky stepped away, laughing still. “Thank you, Chrissie. I guess I needed to shake off the jitters.”
“May I cut in?” A deep voice interrupted.
Chrissie’s eyes widened. “Anytime, sir. How may I entertain you, tonight?”
Becky’s heart seized. The violins took up again. A slower song, something sad and yearning.
The man chuckled. “Oh, not you, my dear. I prefer a more seasoned dish when I am sampling the menu.”
Becky peeked over her shoulder and reached for Chrissie’s hand again.
The gentleman, his blond hair neatly trimmed for Wall Street, smiled, a dimple gracing his left cheek. “Would you?” His blazing blue eyes clashed with hers.
Trying to suppress the panic again, her tongue stuck. Until something prodded her to ask, “Do you like roses?”
Confusion clouded his face. “Roses?”
She nodded, waiting for the answer she already knew. This was not him.
“Excuse me, Miss Rebecca.” A uniformed footman stood with a silver platter before him.
She snatched the note from its surface, turning away from the eager man and Chrissie’s nosy person. Walking to the edge of the dance floor, she unfolded it and read:
“The bell of your gown sways with beauty. What treasures lie beneath? My imagination is left starving. Hungering for more—Your Admirer”
Again, she sought an answering smile amongst the partygoers. She found none. Her cheeks hot with anticipation, Becky absently fanned herself. Wandering the perimeter of the floor, she stopped at the buffet table. She selected several strawberries dipped in chocolate and picked up another flute of champagne. Once again, she sank onto a padded bench and sipped at the wine.
The strawberry, its thick chocolate sweetness, sharpened the flavor of her drink. She licked at her lips, savoring the mingling sensations. When another maid passed by, she handed off the plate and glass only to have a noted handed back to her. She smiled, unable to suppress the eager sensations fluttering in her stomach.
“Swallow again. Lips, teeth and throat…what a lucky piece of fruit.”
What, indeed, were these words doing to her? She reached for her lips, to still the tingling. She tried to stop it, but she swallowed anyway. Was he watching? From where? Would she know him when he came?
She tried to focus on the dancers, but all she saw was a sea of men. Suddenly, the long, lean legs, wide chests, masculine laughter…it all began a warming deep in her belly. Could it happen to her?
She was not looking for love. Having suffered through thirty-five birthdays, she knew better. So-called friends betrayed, lied, left, hurt…eventually those that insisted they were devoted discovered their own calling. She had her business. But being the boss only removed her farther from human contact.
She just wanted that one moment to believe…a sigh, a shiver, a hope.
The paper fluttered to the floor in front of her. She tried to figure out which dancer may have dropped it. Her hands shook.
“Such sad eyes. Is it from their ebon depths that the rain feeds the budding flower?”
Becky crushed the paper, fighting to stop the quivering of her jaw. She hadn’t realized how close to a bout of melancholy she had come. Swiping at her eyes, she stood, seeking a door away from all the people. Their heat, their noise, their hands, their…
She ran to the ladies room, letting the door swing shut behind her. True to everything in Club Divine, the thick carpet muffled the sound of her heels. A vase filled with open blood-red roses adorned the stainless steel counter. Somewhere in the depths of her mind, she catalogued the sound of the air-conditioning, the faint scent of chemicals and the ache in her heart.
The door opened behind her.
“I hope I haven’t frightened you.”
Her shoulders stiffened. His voice was light, but strong. She randomly thought it would make a magnificent tenor voice.
“Perhaps I am not every woman’s Prince Charming, but I thought I’d give tonight a try. Were my notes effective?”
She swiped at her cheek again, walked to the counter and touched a petal. “Lady Velvet gave me all these layers of clothing tonight. I can’t even feel this flower.”
“But, if I’m not mistaken, you felt my words.”
She nodded, tears beginning to clog her throat.
Silence echoed.
“You are a striking woman, Miss Rebecca.”
She sniffed, and caught sight of his reflection. They stared.
He wasn’t tall, or muscular. On the street, Becky would probably dismiss him. But his eyes, orbs of gold and hazel, they sparked.
He swallowed, smiling all the time. His adam’s apple bobbed. “I know how to draw pleasure from the most frigid woman.”
“You do?”
He nodded and took one step forward. “But it is not often I am offered the chance to meet one of Lady Velvet’s customers who actually wishes an emotional connection.”
She broke away from his piercing gaze. “Perhaps I’m just being foolish. I know there’s no future in such a meeting. But after all the doctors, I was beginning to wonder if I had lost that part of me…”
“Been pricked by a thorn once too many times?”
She met his crooked grin and blushed. “Yes, something like that.”
He encroached on her personal space. She felt the hoops in her skirt move and crush. “Miss Rebecca, you seem to have forgotten that it’s only a kiss.”
Her skin raised as his breath heated the nape of her neck. “It’s never just a kiss. Too often it is payment.”
His laughter this time was deep. “Did you not pay Lady Velvet?”
She turned, tamping down her desire to hyperventilate. “I did. I did not, however, pay you.” She eyed his lips. She detected the faintest hint of five o’clock shadow on his chin.
“You ran away from two men, tonight.” He continued to crowd her against the counter, reaching his hands around her, trapping her. “Why have you not run from me?”
Her pulse beat, her breath came a bit too fast. He pushed. He demanded. “I…don’t know.”
“Is there something you need from me?”
Lightheaded, she tried to focus. Becky nodded.
“What is it you need?”
“Just don’t hurt me.”
He leaned forward, blocking out the light, the noise, the night. Shaking with fear and need, she breathed deep.
Soft, warm, and sweet, he kissed her.
Sparks of warmth began in Becky’s chest. She drank in his scent.
His tongue touched hers.
Wet, hot, and hard.
And then he drew away.
She still held herself up against the counter. Struggling to focus, she felt the heat wash over her body.
He stood two steps back from her, still grinning. “I’ll be waiting for you on the floor. I know you dance.”
The door swung close behind him.
Becky stood for minutes cataloguing the multitude of sensations streaking through her limbs. He had only kissed her…
With quiet deliberation, she unhooked her bracelet, peeled the white gloves from her arms, and selected the most perfect rose from the bouquet. Careful of the thorns, she snipped the round blossom from its stem with her nails and threaded it into the knot of ribbon holding her hair up.
She smiled at her reflection. “It’s never just a kiss.”
And turned to rejoin the party.
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This week’s installment for Club Divine was submitted by S.D. Grady.
Need more sweet and sensual romance? Check out “The Eyes of Sin”
Available for download at lyd September 26!
“The Eyes of Sin”
Lady Entwhistle, lately from Virginia, wanders into Manton’s Shooting Parlor on a grey London morning, seeking lessons in the proper use of firearms. What she gets is a jaded ex-officer who is more than eager to teach her anything she desires…
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