I took a deep breath and smoothed down my wig, thinking the bright pink hair actually made my blue eyes stand out more than did my natural auburn locks. The shimmering silver, barely-covering-my-ass dress and my thigh-high, black suede boots completed the look. Although not quite. Because I was feeling festive and maybe because I needed some metaphoric balls tonight, I put on a pair of ornament earrings.
After all, I was heading to a Christmas party, one being held three days before the holiday. And I wanted to look my absolute best when busting my fiancé for cheating on me.
Yeah, nothing said Merry Christmas quite like sticking your dick in some other chick right before coming home to your loving fiancée for the holidays.
Stuck in the city working on an unfortunate project until tomorrow morning, my ass.
God, how many times over the last year had I fallen for Eric’s lines about working late? Too many.
Though we shared a rented townhouse in New Jersey, I’d always been supportive of him keeping an apartment in Manhattan. I’d felt terrible about him having to schlep all the way home after a late night at work. But now I knew better. Too bad I’d already wasted two years with him, but I was determined not to squander one more day.
Of course, I could’ve waited to confront him at home, but I knew he’d deny it. I’d also lose the advantage of having evidence. So I was going to a party tonight that I knew he’d be attending in order to gather the undeniable proof.
Club Travesty didn’t boast a flashy entrance. Matter of fact, it was damn tough to find. I imagined it would be even harder to gain entry into tonight’s Christmas party. Which is why I’d cloned Eric’s membership card. I’d found it in his inside jacket pocket late one evening when he’d forgotten to take it out. That had been his second misstep. The first was leaving a brochure in his glove compartment which had started my suspicions about this club he belonged to. Then, of course, he’d clearly underestimated me. He had no clue I’d be able to access his online credit card account, discover where the card had been used, and utilize parking stubs to figure out the address of the place. At which point, I’d hacked into his email to see the invitation.
Now that I was taking the fake membership card out of my purse, I fought the nerves. I was good with a computer and details—hell, I’d managed fake ID’s in college for me and all my friends—but there was always a chance I’d be caught at the door. Guess Plan B would have to consist of Eric coming home to find I’d moved out all of my things earlier today.
Smiling at the large man in the black suit with the closely cropped hair at the door, I handed him my card. I watched him scan it while trying to steady my heartbeat. The idea of catching Eric in the act made me anxious. But even more did I worry about entering a sex club holiday party for God only knows what. I wondered if I’d thought this through. I mean what if everyone attending was part of an orgy? Or all of a sudden, I became a submissive for a man in a mask with a whip while “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” blasted in the background?
Considering how boring my sex life with Eric had been, I’d be lying if I said either thought didn’t turn me on a little. Matter of fact, disguised as I was and about to be very single, I found myself eager to see what was inside the club.
Coming out of my weird, holiday-themed, sex-deprived thoughts, I saw the green light flash and smiled at the bouncer who’d allowed me entry. Whew. I’d made it in. But now what?
Now to look like I belonged here. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, but classy chandeliers, posh carpets, and a beautiful Christmas tree front and center hadn’t been it. I stepped past the entrance and deeper inside by way of a short hallway. I found myself in the middle of a party. Waitresses in barely-there tuxedo one-piece rompers served champagne while soft holiday music played in the background. So much for a raunchy sex dungeon. I adjusted my mask. My simple black one was nothing compared to some of the more ornate masks I could see around the room.
For a moment, I started to think I might have been mistaken about what type of party this was. Then I noticed the people congregating near the glass on the far side of the room.
Stepping closer to the window, I sucked in a breath. Rooms with glass from floor to ceiling had people on display in various sex acts. The one in front of me boasted two gorgeous women, one of whom was on her back while the other devoured her between her thighs.
Walking down a few feet, I saw the next room featured two men and one woman. She had one cock in her mouth and the other pumping deep inside of her from behind, fast and furious. I was fascinated and hard-pressed to move on from the threesome. But I had to remember I was here for a purpose and tore my eyes away to step down to the next room. I wasn’t a prude by any stretch, despite the boring sex I’d been having with my fiancé, but the next scene shocked my senses. In this room a man plowed into a woman missionary-style while another man went to town, thrusting into the first man’s ass.
I was about to move on when my gaze locked on the eyes of the man in the middle. The mask made it hard to determine for sure, but the unmistakable birth mark on his left pec absolutely identified him. Holy shit. Eric was not only cheating on me, but he was also bisexual?
I slid out my flash-drive-sized camera and tried to get the right angle. I wanted to get Eric’s masked face along with the unmistakable birth mark: tangible evidence. I’d need it since there wasn’t exactly a way I could confront him at the moment. Not unless I wanted to bang against the glass and whip off my mask. Although tempting, I would rather show him the proof with the photo. This ought to get his cooperation in returning the money he owed me, my true priority.
I’d given him seventy-five thousand dollars out of my savings to go towards a down payment on the house we planned to buy together. Hindsight made me feel stupid for having trusted him, but when you think you’ll spend the rest of your life with someone, what was transferring your savings for your dream home? Unfortunately, my sleuthing revealed he’d spent the money instead of putting it in his nonexistent savings. Evidently, he was a cheater all the way around.
Tucking the camera in my purse and giving one last glance toward Eric, I was about to turn and make my way out when a hand clamped on my elbow and a low voice came in my ear.
“Miss, please follow me.”
The man’s grip wasn’t leaving me much of a choice. A tank in a suit, he was careful, however, make it look as though he was merely guiding me through the crowd. But when he led me into a cleverly hidden elevator near the bar, I had a moment of panic.
“Where are you taking me?”
“To see the boss, ma’am.”
“Um, why is that?”
“Don’t know, but I reckon you’ll find out soon enough.”
His Southern voice might be soothing, but his words weren’t. Crap. Had they figured out my ID was fake? Or had they spotted the camera? Either way, I was pretty sure I was fucked. And not in a good, sex-club kind of way.