Read Online Invitation to Pleasure: Open Invitation, Book 2 by Jasmine Haynes - Free Book Online
Authors: Jasmine Haynes
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Marta,
the Swingers Ball, The Sex Club, all of that combined?
Brett couldn’t say. But hell, he didn’t
care. If it took a sex club as a backdrop, then it would be a regular haunt. He would make Virginia scream. Every
time.
He allowed her time to park and enter the
condo. He sat a moment, the lot’s lamps illuminating the hood of his car but
leaving the interior in darkness.
She’d gone off with his whispered threat to
Sven. She’d hit her peak with that stamp of ownership, possession, and need. Brett
knew he’d found the key to unlocking her passion. Virginia needed witnesses to
her power as a woman. He’d give her that as much as she wanted.
Inside, the condo was dark except for a
stream of light from the bedroom. Her shoes lay on the carpet in the upstairs
hall, her purse, a few feet closer to the bedroom door. He entered to find her
sitting at her vanity removing her makeup with a cotton ball.
The scent of his loving rose off her like a
sultry perfume.
She threw the cotton in the trash can, then
swiveled on her vanity stool. Something shimmered in her eyes, and her lips
were plump from small nervous bites. “Brett, I—”
He covered her mouth with his fingers.
“Don’t say anything.” Her stroked her lower
lip with the pad of his index finger. “Wait for the next invitation.”
She blinked, her lashes long and full even
without the benefit of her mascara. “But—”
“There’s life as Mr. and Mrs. Brett
Branoff. And then there’s a whole different life at The Sex Club.”
“You mean—”
He shook his head. “When the time comes,
just do what the note tells you to do, Virginia.”
He intended to see just how far he could
get her to go and just how good he could make it for her.
* * * * *
Beside her, Brett breathed softly,
rhythmically.
Virginia couldn’t fall asleep. Her body
hummed, erotic images played across her mind, and her flesh buzzed with the
electricity of the club.
Stacy was so right. There was so much more
to her husband than she’d ever thought possible. He’d conceived of a double
life for the two of them. A place to play out their fantasies. A separate life
that existed only at The Sex Club was like having a secret lover.
She’d follow the instructions in the next
invitation to the letter. In fact, she wouldn’t be able to resist.
And she wouldn’t think about how she was
starting to feel far too much emotion in a marriage that was supposed to be
comfortable, convenient, and controlled.
Chapter Five
“Is the steak good?” Virginia grimaced at
her own polite conversation. It had been three weeks since their visit to the
club, and she was starting to think she’d imagined the man Brett had been out
in the parking garage.
I
want you so badly I’m going to come on your ass if I don’t get inside you right
now.
Despite the things he’d said then, maybe it
hadn’t been as exciting for him as she’d made it out to be, because at home,
their lovemaking was as predictable as usual.
“It’s perfect,” Brett said, spearing
another piece of filet mignon. He smiled. “You’re an excellent cook.”
He complimented her, asked about her day,
laughed with her over an amusing anecdote. They watched TV together, a movie, a
PBS presentation, or sometimes a sitcom. At least when they weren’t attending
one of his frequent business engagements.
But was he ever going to take her to the
club again? She couldn’t bring it up. Part of the allure was having him do the
asking. Yet the club obviously did something for them that they couldn’t
achieve at home. In their own bed, Brett just wasn’t wild for her the way he’d been that night. She had to admit that
lack of
the Swingers Ball, The Sex Club, all of that combined?
Brett couldn’t say. But hell, he didn’t
care. If it took a sex club as a backdrop, then it would be a regular haunt. He would make Virginia scream. Every
time.
He allowed her time to park and enter the
condo. He sat a moment, the lot’s lamps illuminating the hood of his car but
leaving the interior in darkness.
She’d gone off with his whispered threat to
Sven. She’d hit her peak with that stamp of ownership, possession, and need. Brett
knew he’d found the key to unlocking her passion. Virginia needed witnesses to
her power as a woman. He’d give her that as much as she wanted.
Inside, the condo was dark except for a
stream of light from the bedroom. Her shoes lay on the carpet in the upstairs
hall, her purse, a few feet closer to the bedroom door. He entered to find her
sitting at her vanity removing her makeup with a cotton ball.
The scent of his loving rose off her like a
sultry perfume.
She threw the cotton in the trash can, then
swiveled on her vanity stool. Something shimmered in her eyes, and her lips
were plump from small nervous bites. “Brett, I—”
He covered her mouth with his fingers.
“Don’t say anything.” Her stroked her lower
lip with the pad of his index finger. “Wait for the next invitation.”
She blinked, her lashes long and full even
without the benefit of her mascara. “But—”
“There’s life as Mr. and Mrs. Brett
Branoff. And then there’s a whole different life at The Sex Club.”
“You mean—”
He shook his head. “When the time comes,
just do what the note tells you to do, Virginia.”
He intended to see just how far he could
get her to go and just how good he could make it for her.
* * * * *
Beside her, Brett breathed softly,
rhythmically.
Virginia couldn’t fall asleep. Her body
hummed, erotic images played across her mind, and her flesh buzzed with the
electricity of the club.
Stacy was so right. There was so much more
to her husband than she’d ever thought possible. He’d conceived of a double
life for the two of them. A place to play out their fantasies. A separate life
that existed only at The Sex Club was like having a secret lover.
She’d follow the instructions in the next
invitation to the letter. In fact, she wouldn’t be able to resist.
And she wouldn’t think about how she was
starting to feel far too much emotion in a marriage that was supposed to be
comfortable, convenient, and controlled.
Chapter Five
“Is the steak good?” Virginia grimaced at
her own polite conversation. It had been three weeks since their visit to the
club, and she was starting to think she’d imagined the man Brett had been out
in the parking garage.
I
want you so badly I’m going to come on your ass if I don’t get inside you right
now.
Despite the things he’d said then, maybe it
hadn’t been as exciting for him as she’d made it out to be, because at home,
their lovemaking was as predictable as usual.
“It’s perfect,” Brett said, spearing
another piece of filet mignon. He smiled. “You’re an excellent cook.”
He complimented her, asked about her day,
laughed with her over an amusing anecdote. They watched TV together, a movie, a
PBS presentation, or sometimes a sitcom. At least when they weren’t attending
one of his frequent business engagements.
But was he ever going to take her to the
club again? She couldn’t bring it up. Part of the allure was having him do the
asking. Yet the club obviously did something for them that they couldn’t
achieve at home. In their own bed, Brett just wasn’t wild for her the way he’d been that night. She had to admit that
lack of
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