Her Secret Santa

Chapter Seven

CLARA

E ternity is overwhelming the second we step through the door.

The cool metal mask settles against my face as I tie the straps around my head, and it makes me feel like I’m stepping into a fantasy world. I'm still trying to get over that this is even happening when we walk through the next set of doors.

Pale gray walls are swapped out for a deep, dusky navy. Lights hang from the ceiling to cast a warm glow on the pristinely polished floor. Our heels clack against the hardwood as we make our way up to the expansive desk that takes up an entire wall. Two plush chairs sit before it. A well muscled young woman with broad shoulders and a severe blond bob sits behind it, watching our approach with an air of detachment and the slightest smile.

Shiny black latex covers every inch of her that I can see, save for her face, which is half hidden behind a black mask.

So she’s an Elite.

My heart stutters in my chest, and I share a glance with Allie, relieved to see the same mix of anxiety and anticipation reflected at me.

“Welcome to Eternity, Jewels.” Her voice is higher pitched than I expected, but buttery smooth. “Take a seat.”

It's more of an instruction than an invitation.

“The first is our NDA. Read through it carefully and ask any questions you'd like before signing,” she says as she plucks two pens from the cup on her desk and slides them over. “The next two pages are floor rules. You'll sign at the bottom, but broad strokes are that consent is never implied, stoplight system is used for universal safewords, and there's an explanation of the bracelet colors.”

A board behind her is adorned with various bracelets, thin cords of varying colors with their associated meanings listed beside them. I feel like I can't pay proper attention as I skim through the NDA, buzzing with excitement at being here and actually going through with this.

These kinds of things don't happen in my life, and it feels a little like I'm dreaming.

I scrawl my signature at the bottom of the NDA paperwork before flipping to the next page. The more I read, the more real it seems, and my heart rate spikes as I add my signature to the next page, acknowledging the rule against having more than two drinks and the various safety statements. The last page is a medical release, giving access to relevant blood work and testing. We emailed our most recent bill of health in the cab on the way over.

The Elite takes our paperwork and slips it into a file before pressing a button on the surface of the desk. The top splits open to reveal a gleaming tray of bracelets, arranged in the same fashion as the ones on the wall behind the desk.

“I'll give you two some privacy. Knock on the door when you're ready.”

Allie and I both nod in agreement, watching as the Elite steps out of the room. Our eyes meet, and both of us break into disbelieving laughter.

“Oh my God!” Allie gushes, reaching out to shake me by the arm. “Is this even real?”

“You're asking me ?” I tease, grinning so wide it hurts. “This is crazy, Allie! Seriously, how did we even wind up here?”

Allie laughs, shaking her hair out and looking down her nose at me.

“Didn’t you read the NDA?” she scolds teasingly, clicking her tongue at me. “We don’t have names here, babes, we’re just Jewels. Although, hopefully by the end of the night, we’ll be Diamonds.”

The thought is almost too much to fathom, but tonight is already a fantasy. Might as well run with it, right?

“Alright, alright, we need to pick our bracelets,” Allie says, turning excitedly to the colorful array before us. “Dress to impress, right?”

On closer inspection, the bracelets are actually made of thin strips of dyed leather, intricately braided together. My eyes fly between the colors, black to white to pink to yellow to blue, and they all blur together as I try to calm the racing of my mind. Every fantasy I’ve ever indulged blooms in my mind, mixing and mingling into a convoluted mess of desires and excitement.

Allie reaches for a black one—bondage—first and slides it over her wrist, and I take a deep breath before doing the same. The next ones come easier, the more basic of my wants. Pastel pink for submission, a deep, burnt orange for spanking, crimson for discipline, lavender for praise. With each bracelet comes a growing sense of both calm and anticipation, excitement and certainty.

It feels right, even if it’s the last thing I expected to be doing on a Saturday night.

“Here.” Allie slides two more bracelets toward me, a knowing grin stretched across her red-painted lips. One is a mauve red for choking, the other gray for restraints. “Don’t short yourself.”

Her wrist is covered much the same as mine. Pastel pink and lavender sit against the tanned skin of her arm, along with one of the mauve ones she just passed me. She also sports a peach colored band, professing her love for anal play, a hot pink one for toys of any kind, and a bubblegum pink one for masochism.

The absolute confidence she wears them with strikes something in me, and I pull the two she passed me on before reaching for two more. Forest green for primal play and a bright, fiery orange for impact.

I’m not Clara Sanders tonight. I’m a Jewel.

I’m going to be a Diamond before the night is up, and I’m going to have fucking fun .

“Ready?” I ask, surprised at how calm I feel.

“Ready,” she says, grinning widely at me. “Let’s make everyone in this club our bitch.”

The two of us make our way to the door, our heels sounding like a countdown to a new, exciting spectacle. Allie knocks firmly on the door, and it swings open moments later.

We stand at the top of a balcony, a set of stairs leading down into the actual club. Lights glitter as they strobe over the crowd of moving bodies, music pumping just loud enough to drown out the hum of conversation without making us shout to be heard.

“Good luck,” the Elite says, grinning softly as she gestures down the stairs.

Allie drags me halfway down the stairs before I can orient myself, lights flashing across the floor and bouncing off the walls. A sea of bodies swallows us the second we step down onto the floor, people dancing and swaying to the music, the occasional cluster of conversationalists standing along the edges. We head straight for the bar, getting a shot of whiskey each and slamming them back. It burns pleasantly on the way down, warming my throat and setting a low fire humming in my gut.

The bartender draws a single tally mark on each of our hands in permanent marker to ensure we don’t go over the two-drink rule before sending us on our way, and we immediately lose ourselves in the crowd.

I don’t recognize the music pumping through the speakers, but it has a steady beat to it and the vocalist has a pleasantly threatening growl to her voice. It fits the venue perfectly, sultry and heated. The floor is lined on either side by plush velvet booths in the same navy as the walls, bottles of expensive champagne chilling on the tables between them. It looks straight out of a movie, sleek and untouchable.

Masked faces mix together, a mob of silver masks congregating and showing off. There are a few black masks mixed in, most of them lounging the booths with a silver-masked Jewel or Diamond by their side or at their feet. Everyone is all long legs and vibrant hair, latex and leather and lingerie. I’m shocked to realize that I actually look like I fit in.

Thank fuck I let Allie dress me, or I’d have walked in here looking like a nun in comparison to everyone else.

Allie pulls me into the center of the crowd, swaying with the movement and the music, and I find it almost easy to lose myself along with her. I’m still too self conscious, hyper aware of every brush of skin and bump against my back or my side, but I can’t deny it’s fun.

The second song barely ends when I see the crowd part like the sea, a tall, broad shouldered man with dark hair down to his collarbones stalking his way across the floor.

A black mask covers the top half of his face, and his eyes are glued to Allie.

He catches her hand as she raises it over her head, stopping the roll of her body and yanking her around to face him. His arm winds around her waist without hesitation, and he bends to press his lips against her ear.

I have a moment for my protective instincts to rankle before her lips curl into the biggest smile I’ve ever seen.

Her eyes sparkle with excitement as she looks back at me before she turns back to the man holding her, leaning up on her toes to say something in his ear. I see his teeth glint in the lights of the club as he grins, and then he whisks her away, both of them eaten up by the shadows and the press of bodies.

My mind whirls for a long second, uncertain of what to do now.

The crowd around me bumps into me as my thoughts race, and I slowly find myself moving along with everyone else. I can’t just stand here like a pole in the ground, and the music is making me want to move.

I’ve never considered myself to be the best dancer, but something about letting the beat clear my head and guide my movements is satisfying.

It makes me feel free… sexy… desired.

I close my eyes and toss my head back, letting my hair fly through the air. The lights flash against my eyelids, and I can feel the warmth of everyone around me, the bass buzzing in the back of my skull. I was never one for clubs before this, but maybe this is a pretty good way to let loose.

I open my eyes when I hear a sudden rush of whispers and rapidly moving feet. A man stands in front of me, his hand outstretched. Shock courses through me as my movements stall, my eyes blowing wide behind the mask.

Veins wrap around the knuckles, twining up a thick, muscled forearm before disappearing under the black button down stretched tight over the man’s chest. A black mask sits across sharp cheekbones; his eyes, so dark I feel like I’m going to fall straight into them, sparkle with interest as he rakes his gaze over me. His hair is so black it looks almost blue under the lights of the club, and something about the way he looks at me feels, just for a moment, dangerous.

It makes my mouth go dry and my pulse pound in my skull and between my thighs.

I stare at him as he takes a step closer, the height he has on me daunting in a way that calls to my most primal urges.

“My Diamond,” he says in a voice that sounds like sin and silk and promise.

I look up at him from beneath my lashes, wasting no time before sliding my hand into his. It’s broad and warm and lightly callused, and I shiver at the thought of feeling him touch the rest of my skin.

He grins wickedly beneath his mask, tugging me half an inch closer as quiet murmurs rise up around us.

“Follow me,” he orders.

And that’s exactly what I do.