The Grand Duel (The Grand Men #4)

Chapter 5

FIVE

Lissie

T he club is busy. Maybe the busiest I’ve seen it in the four shifts I’ve worked. I’m on the second level with Iona and Alex, Christian watching us as he loiters at the far end of the bar. Or watching Iona, maybe.

There’s something about the club I’ve quickly come to love. It’s not easy to explain, but I feel like I fit here. When the music is playing and I’m making a cocktail, watching people mingle out in the room, I’m just Lissie. My mind quiets, and the night ticks by quicker than it would if I was at home on my own.

It might be my favourite job I’ve ever had.

“What’s with all the martinis tonight?” Iona asks as she lines her glass up next to mine. “I swear this is the fifth I’ve made this hour.”

I chuckle and pour the gin into the mixer. “How come you’re not out in the room tonight? I didn’t know you worked the bar.”

“We’re not allowed to work the floor more than four nights of a week, and I have a shift on Sunday.”

“You’re not? Why?”

She shrugs, her smile sly. “I don’t know, but my vagina is probably thankful for it.”

I laugh and pour the two drinks, taking her order and my own to the members. We end up back at the gin bottle not fifteen minutes later.

She rolls her eyes and waits for me to finish.

“I think you suit the floor better, you know,” I say in jest.

“I prefer the floor. You would too.” She knocks my shoulder with her own. “I’ve seen those wandering eyes this week.”

“My wandering eyes?” I mimic, smiling. “What ever do you mean?”

“Was it not you I saw watching upstairs on Tuesday? I could be mistaken.” She knows she wasn’t.

The first time I went upstairs with Christian, the rooms on the upper level were mostly unoccupied. On Tuesday, it was later, and there were more occupied rooms than not.

It was an experience . And I’ve not been able to think about much else since.

I shrug. “I’m not ashamed to admit the goings on around here intrigue me.” I reach for the vermouth, my cheeks flushing.

She readies two glasses and then smiles across at me.

“How do you decide if you’ll use a private room or a viewing room? I’ve been watching you during my shifts, and you make it seem so effortless and natural. Is it not awkward?”

She shakes her head as she laughs. “Sometimes I sense they feel a little awkward asking, but I tend to squash it with a simple smile or touch, something that will make them feel important to me and not stupid. It helps that I want the exchange as much as they do.”

I nod. “That makes sense. I think the one drink rule would be the death of me. I’d need at least three to find the courage.”

“The one drink rule is there to protect us, don’t forget that, but I totally get it. You have to be in the right frame of mind to commit to any kind of intimacy. Bronwyn is pretty strict on our mental state and wellbeing. We meet with her weekly. It’s why we’re so short-staffed right now.”

I frown. “What if you don’t want to go to a room with someone? What if they aren’t doing it for you?”

“I say no.” She catches my eye as I look between her and the drinks I’m pouring. “I’ve definitely pushed my own boundaries and bedded men I probably wouldn’t if I wasn’t getting paid. But for the most part, I enjoy it. I love sex, and you’ve seen the people walking around in here.”

I roll my lips, smiling as I reach for two olives. She’s right, everyone seems to be stupidly hot or attractive in their own unique way. “I think I’m jealous, Iona. It’s been too long for me.”

“Since you’ve had sex?” She takes the drinks and serves them to the members. When she turns back to me, I can tell she wants an answer.

I nod. “It’s been like…eighteen months.”

“No, that’s long. I couldn’t.”

“I’m struggling,” I say with a chuckle, holding up my hand. “I’m this close to asking Bronwyn to sign me up.”

She grabs my pinched fingers and lowers them. “Shh.” She laughs, nodding at where Bronwyn now stands at the side door. “We’re short on numbers on the floor. Some of the girls have the flu. Our ratios are way off.”

I thought it seemed busier tonight.

“Bron,” she calls, and I step around her, clearing away the two glasses left at the bar. “Am I still okay to leave for my appointment. It’s at eight.” She checks her watch and then unclips her keys.

“What appointment?” Bronwyn asks.

“My wax lady only had the late appointment. I told you about it last week.”

“Shit.”

“You need me to stay?”

“Yes. But you’re not working the rooms anyway tonight. Go. We’ll figure it out.”

I watch as Bronwyn internally panics.

“You know I don’t mind a bit of fuzz, baby,” Christian hums into Iona’s ear.

I smile at them and their cuteness.

“You think I get my forearms waxed for your benefit?”

He chuckles and holds her coat open.

“You get your forearms waxed?” I ask.

“Uh-huh. I get pretty much everything waxed.”

I smooth my hand over the hairs on my arm. “Does it not grow back worse?”

“In some areas no, others yes. Probably depends on the person.” She takes her bag and looks up at me as she frees her trapped hair from the coat. “Although you know that already. You have beautiful skin, Jovie. Where do you go for your brows?”

“I do them myself.”

“What?” She leans in to get a closer look in the dimly lit bar area. “You tint them?”

“Yep. I found and fell in love with my wax pot at age fourteen.” My mum thought it might help with the girls at school.

“Maybe I need to learn to do it myself. My lady charges me a fortune.”

“I’ll wax you,” I tell her. “I used to wax my sister when she lived here.”

“Has anyone seen Eve?” Bronwyn interrupts. “Is she late?”

“Haven’t seen her. Everything okay?” Christian asks, noticing the panic only visible to someone paying attention.

“Everything is fine.” Bronwyn discreetly surveys the crowd and nods. “I’ll sort it.” She shimmies past us.

“Do you not go short on numbers often?” I ask Christian once she’s gone.

“Never,” he tells me. “There’s a virus going around.”

Iona sighs and pulls off her jacket with a sigh. “A rare win for hairy vaginas. Let Bronwyn know I’ll switch my Sunday.”

I chuckle and quickly pour her a shot of tequila—her favourite—and hand it to her. “Your one.”

“Thanks, babe.”

She downs it and hands me her drink token before heading towards the stairs that lead to the changing rooms.

Iona has worked three of the five nights I have, and each time I’ve been left utterly mesmerised by the way she works.

I’m pretty sure the girl could make me fall in love with her.

I turn my head to look at Christian, finding his eyes exactly where I knew they’d be—on her back.

Their sexual tension is off the charts. I swear I get giddy just being in the same room as the two of them. I guess working around sexually charged humans all night long doesn’t help matters.

Christian eventually turns to look at me. “I have work to do, Shoes. Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re imagining me naked.”

I give him a sly smile and shrug, and he dips his head back laughing before disappearing deeper into the room.

I can’t help but feel a little jealous.

Alex and I work the bar alone for an hour before reinforcements show up. Beth is supposed to be on annual leave, and Hannah worked the last five nights in a row. Both girls have the same role as me, and neither one of them seems interested in what goes on beyond serving up drinks.

If only the same could be said for myself.

I’m pouring a glass of wine for the redhead at the end of the bar when I spot a tall, blond-haired man slip his hand up Sydney’s back, cupping her neck. She tilts her head, smiling up at him as one might a lover. It’s tender, knowing.

I don’t know how they do it.

I’ve already watched Iona take the floor and lead a tall, dark-haired man up the stairs to the upper level of the club.

Even Christian has a spark about him when he steps out there and has his way with beautiful women.

I finish pouring the wine and hand it to the lady, taking her drink token and smiling at her as she turns to walk away.

I’m certain she’s a member.

I’ve been trying to guess all week after Christian’s question upstairs that first night. It’s easy to spot the bar staff, as we have uniforms, but all other staff are to blend with the members of the club. With three floors and two staff quarters, I’m not sure I’ve met even half of my colleagues yet.

With the bar area under control with Alex, Beth, and Hannah, I decide it’s time for a break myself and take my first of the night. I’m halfway down the stairs, making my way to the lounge, when I see Bronwyn, Christian, and Dan talking in the corridor.

“Surely there’s someone,” Christian asks.

“Not over twenty-five,” Dan says, rubbing his forehead as he types on his phone.

Bronwyn shakes her head. “I don’t get to dictate my client’s habits. This is embarrassing.”

“Who’ve you called?”

“No one. I’m not begging the girls to come in on their nights off. It’s not what I’m about.”

“No, but we have the flu going around like the fucking plague and need everyone pulling their weight.”

“Eve isn’t coming. She’s caught the lurgy too,” says Dan.

I should say nothing. I should but… “Can I help?” I walk towards their trio, wondering what the hell I’m doing. “I mean, I might not be?—”

“No.”

Okay. I try not to take Christian’s dismissal personally.

“Hold on.” Bronwyn pushes him out of her space with a hand on his chest. “What do you mean you’ll help?”

“I…um…” I look between them all. “I could work the floor. Make up numbers.”

Christian shakes his head behind her, and I internally tell him to fuck off.

Bronwyn watches me. “Do you have any idea what that would entail?”

I nod, my cheeks flushing a little before I admit, “I checked out upstairs that first day I interviewed with you. Christian showed me around.” I throw the little shit headfirst under the bus. “I’ve been up again since…” I feel his eyes on me but stay focused on Bronwyn. “On my own.”

She stares, contemplating me—or my proposal, maybe.

“I can get a contract?” Dan suggests.

“You think this is a good idea?” Christian asks Bronwyn.

She’s silent for a minute, simply watching me. “If it was any other client, then no, I wouldn’t even entertain it. Being who it is.” She worries her lip. “You’d be in safe hands,” she tells me, her gaze reassuring. “You’re twenty-four, aren’t you?”

I nod, surprised she remembers my age.

“You sure you want to do this?” Christian asks.

No, but the fluttering sensation between my legs at the thought of doing what Iona does is saying yes. I turn towards him. “I’m sure.”

“How much have you had to drink tonight?” Bronwyn asks.

“I had a vodka and blackcurrant squash when I first got here.”

Everyone cringes.

“That was your one, Shoes.”

“I can’t have another?”

“You know the rules,” Christian says.

“Come with me, please, Lissie,” Bronwyn says.

She walks down the corridor and into her office. “Sorry, but I’d like some privacy and time with you before you decide on anything, away from the others.” She gestures for me to sit down. “Are you sure this is something you’d like to do? There’s absolutely no pressure.”

“No, I want to,” I tell her, sitting down. “I’ll be honest, I’ve been sort of…intrigued since I first looked around.”

She watches me, nodding. “Do you happen to know when you last had a sexual health check? I’d need written proof for you to work outside of the bar. You’d also need to sign a separate agreement.”

“I get tested…” I wring my hands, trying to think. “The last would have been around two months ago. I see a private doctor every six months which includes a sexual health check. I’d have the email on my phone.”

Her brows rise in surprise. “Okay. I want you to take some time to read over the contract agreements and then a little longer to think about this. Even if you agree, you’ll be in control and safe the entire time, I can assure you of that.”

I swallow, forcing a nervous smile.

What am I doing?

“I need to speak with my client, but I’ll have Christian take you to the dressing rooms. Could you connect your phone to the printer and have your documents printed? You’ll need to have them updated again at the end of this month.”

“Sure.” I pull my phone from my pocket when she leaves and click through my emails.

The printer is almost finished when Christian walks into the office.

I smile at him when he shakes his head at me, my heart pounding.

“What have you gotten yourself into now, Shoes?” He cocks his head towards the door. “Come on.”

He leads me into the changing rooms, somewhere I’ve only ever passed through when using the staff entrance to collect glasses from the private rooms.

I quickly scan my surroundings, seeing it in a different light entirely.

“Do you know the guy?” I ask, suddenly really nervous.

“Yes.”

I frown when he doesn’t elaborate. “And?”

“He’s a longtime member. Popular amongst the girls. He’ll probably want to chat a little first. Get to know you.” He pulls open drawers, looking for something.

“What?”

He finds what he’s looking for and turns back towards me. “White lace?”

I smile, a little adrenaline-rushed as I take the lace thong. “Fuck, I’m scared. Why will he want to get to know me?”

“It’s just the way he’s always been.”

“It sounds awkward. Why can’t we just get on with it?”

He pauses his search. “You do realise he’s the most favoured amongst the girls because he talks to them before and after. Genuinely, too.”

“No, it’s weird.” I check the tag on the underwear and find they’re my exact size.

When he doesn’t reply, I look up. “You’re weird,” he tells me.

“Can you speak to him if you know him?”

“No,” he deadpans. “And say what? I don’t know him know him.”

“That I’m new…” I look up through my lashes at him. “Please, Christian. Say something like…that I’m untouched by anyone else here and would like to meet him in the private rooms instead tonight. Iona said she uses the private rooms sometimes when she’s not feeling it.”

He holds my eyes. “You don’t have to do this, Lissie.”

“I want to. I do. It’s just new. And between me and you, I’m shitting it.”

“Where is she?” I know it’s Iona’s voice before she steps around the wall. She’s been upstairs for over an hour, and I know she’s now done for the night. “You got cop boy.”

My eyes widen, and I turn back to Christian. “He’s a policeman?”

He rolls his eyes. “I go out of my way not to know their business.”

“Oh, a policeman, fucking gorgeous, the list goes on,” Iona continues. “I’ve never been there myself—he’s a sucker for a brunette—but many have, and let me tell you, I’m extremely jealous.”

“I’m scared,” I tell her.

“Understandably. Bron asked me to check in and give you this. She said to take your time reading it over.” She hands me an envelope and looks at Christian, smiling. “Where we at?”

He holds up the matching bra to the thong.

“Love.” She takes it from him, snapping off the tags. “Now the nerves, they aren’t good for anybody. Have you had your one?”

“No,” Christian answers before I can.

I eye him, but he doesn’t meet my gaze.

“Good. Let’s get something strong in you. It will ease the nerves.”

“I’ll go,” Christian says, leaving us.

I pull open the envelope and start to read over the contract as Iona pulls creams and makeup from a drawer.

My eyes scan the text, immediately drawn to the activities section of the agreement.

Full body touching

Kissing with insertion of tongue

Digital penetration (receiving)

Digital penetration (giving)

Oral sex (receiving)

Oral sex (giving)

Vaginal sex (receiving)

Anal sex (receiving)

Anal sex (giving)

Restraint

I look up at Iona in the mirror. “How many of these should I expect to…perform if I consent to them here?”

“None of them. And remember not every member will want all of those things listed. Keep reading. Take your time.”

No sexual activity of any kind will be carried out other than that specified and consented to in this agreement without the creation of an additional, separate agreement.

I frown and then continue to read.

Activity of any kind must be consented to by mutual verbal consent before the activities are engaged.

I let my eyes drop to the section headed contraception .

The consenter is using the following methods of contraception on an ongoing basis:

The consenter will use the following methods of contraception and/or protection (provided) during vaginal/anal penetrative activities:

“We’re provided with contraception?”

“We provide but they have a choice to use their own. Contraception is where Bron will come down hard, so make sure nothing gets carried away. You’ll have to get tested, too.”

I take the pen from the envelope, filling in the one hundred percent effective method of contraception I use, my hand gripping the pen a little tighter than before.

I read over the alcohol limitations and what to do if we believe a member is intoxicated. “Do people turn up drunk?”

“Rarely. You’ve seen the club. The members are very aware of the rules and how easily they can have their memberships revoked. And you aren’t paying The Nightingale annual fees if you’re not a person who understands rules. You’ll get the odd few that manage to fool the doormen or come as guests, but like I said, it’s rare.”

I take my time to read the rest of the contract and then fill in the boxes I’ve left blank, making sure I’ve not consented to a dick in my nostril or anything equally as terrifying.

I’m reading it over for a third time when Iona pulls me from my thoughts.

“Do you have any sexual fantasies? Anything you’ve never tried that you’ve always wanted to?”

I raise my brows.

“It can really help. Makes you wet.” She shrugs as if it’s simply facts.

“Uh…”

“Bondage? Toys? Did you consent to either?”

“Both.” I try to imagine being in the room with a complete stranger. Him touching me like those men touched the women upstairs. My heart starts to race at memories flashing in my mind. “How about a blindfold?”

“Perfect!”

I shower and dress in the underwear, letting Iona tousle my hair and play with my makeup.

Once done, I take a moment to check over the contract and slip the documents I printed inside. Iona told me that the contract makes it sound more complicated than it is and to just be myself and enjoy it, but I’m nervous. My hands are sweaty, and my body feels like it’s made of jelly.

I take a deep breath, looking up into the mirror.

The sight I’m greeted with makes my worries fade momentarily. My long, dark-brown hair is down and slightly curled, the ends dusting the lace of my bra. My makeup is lighter than I’d normally wear it, the freckles on my nose still visible where I’d cover them.

I flatten my hand on my stomach, willing it to settle, reminding myself that the four tiny scars there are near invisible to the naked eye and impossible to see under the dim lighting in the rooms.

“You ready, Shoes?” Christian says through the door to the changing rooms.

I slip on the robe and step out, giving him a little spin as I pass.

“Yes, we all know you’re gorgeous. Come on.”

Iona claps her hands together, giving me a hug before leading me down to the corridor of hidden exits behind the rooms which are used for staff and cleaners only.

“You read the contract over?” Christian asks.

“Three times.”

“The safe word?”

“Heartlands.”

“Blindfold?” Iona asks, reaching her hand back to him.

Christian locks eyes with me and hands it to her.

She slides it over my hair to rest on my forehead. “You look stunning, Jovie.”

I pull in a full breath, my nerves suddenly intensified now I’m standing outside the room.

God, can I pull this off? I’m way out of my depths here, purely acting off pent-up sexual need—mostly because of the two people in front of me.

I should’ve called my ex.

Anything but put myself in this position.

“You’ll fucking kill it, Shoes. Get your ass in there,” Christian eventually says.