All characters are at least 18 years old.
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"Are you sure you want me to put it in?" Jordan asked.
"I'm sure," I mumbled, nodding a bit too emphatically.
"We could get in a lot of trouble for this," he warned.
I pulled his shoulders closer in response, and his breathing quickened. He looked down at where we were about to become one. It looked intimidating, but I had to swallow any doubt. I wanted this. Not even my rational side was going to talk me out of it.
"I should be wearing a condom," he said suddenly.
For some reason, a spike of panic lanced through my heart. "You keep making excuses," I whispered, and his eyes widened. "Do you... not want to?"
"That's totally not what I'm saying. Come on, you know that." His voice was reassuring, and I wanted to believe him. He rested on his elbows so he could reach for me and tilt my chin up. "If you could even question how much I love you, then I must be doing something wrong."
I couldn't help but smile. I knew he loved me. Maybe he was hesitating
because
he loved me. He seemed to ask for permission with his gaze, and I nodded at him. Slowly, he pushed forward, and I gasped as he entered me.
A flash of pain radiated through my groin, dissipating slowly as he stilled. He'd groaned when he penetrated, and his body was quivering as we held steady. It was both our first times, and I'd heard that such a situation usually proved disastrous. However I felt that, all things considered, it was going magically. A modern fairytale.
I pulled him close for a kiss, and it seemed to seal the deal of making this the best day of my life. We were finally together. He looked at me adoringly, then said my four favorite words.
"I love you, Lexi."
β
The car behind me honked, snapping me out of my daydream. God damn it, it was just getting good. I grumbled and began driving. I'd been sat at the red light, letting my mind wander as the last rays of daylight faded over the horizon. Lost in fantasy, again. Frankly, I'd spent most of my life in fantasy. It was more fun. It was more exciting. And... it let you live out your What Ifs. Sometimes, though, that wasn't a good thing. Sometimes it left you hurting even more.
And speaking of fantasy, I thought, I was about to drive past a place that made it reality. Just a bit further down the road, in purple and magenta neon, shone the word "Taboo." On the facade of a squat and unassuming building, nothing else hinted at what one would find inside. To the uninitiated, it would only be the source of rumination; the building nobody knew about, but everybody wondered on.
Taboo was, without a doubt, the most exclusive nightclub in the city. Granted, it was a small town, nothing compared to the hustle and bustle of the metropolis only an hour's drive away. However, its fame and notoriety were kept as low as possible. Laymen would question how, in this case, exclusivity and discretion could go hand in hand. I grinned. I knew the secret. Of course I would.
The light turned green, and I drove past Taboo and turned around the block, parking my car in front of a butcher shop. Its sterile white fluorescent lights were just bordering unpleasant, and it didn't get many customers, but it was mine all the same. Still, I was rethinking the idea of the store. Was it odd to have a twenty-four-hour butcher shop?
"Hey Tony," I said as I entered.
The rotund and gruff fifty-year-old Italian behind the counter tipped his chin up at me. "Evening, Miss R. What'll it be?"
"Four racks of lamb, with mint on the side," I announced, and he nodded as I passed him by and went directly to the walk-in freezer in the back. Stepping past the large metal door, I descended down a long flight of stairs, the walls lit with dim red bulbs. At the base of the stairs were two armed guards in the classic suit-and-sunglasses getup you see in the movies. I smirked to myself. Yes, they really did exist, as clichΓ© as it was.
"Evening, Miss R," one said, and they held the dark oak double doors open for me. I nodded to them and proceeded down the hallway. All along the way, employees in professional attire greeted me, and I had to admit that it was an enjoyable part of the job. How many nineteen-year-olds could claim they ran a successful business?
I finally made it to the viewing deck, where more staff watched screens of the goings-on of the establishment. We had a lovely view of the large area below, and sometimes I just liked to stand up here and watch all the bodies moving together, the couples ever thankful for the haven that I had provided. My world of fantasy.
Taboo.
"
Bonsoir, mademoiselle,
" said a well-groomed gentleman, bowing as I entered. He was in his late forties, with a neatly trimmed mustache and hairstyle.
"
Bonsoir,
Alain," I replied, striding past him to survey the turnout. Sunday night was usually a mixed bag for other places, but we always did well. "How are we looking for this evening?"