Yes, Sirs (Book 1 of Desire's Den)

Chapter 19 - Emma

Hi? That was what I had to say after basically trying to dry hump his dick—fucking hi? I mentally facepalmed myself as I looked into his amused eyes. He probably thought I was a weirdo or something.

"Hello, Gorgeous." He smiled, and God, it took my breath away. If I hadn't already been weak in my knees, I sure was now. "Can I buy you a drink?"

Letting out a relieved breath, I returned his smile. "Sure, that would be great."

In a gentlemanly manner, he offered me his arm, and I took it, blushing slightly as I did. Walking side by side, I noticed how tall he actually was without the distraction of a scene. Even in my four point five inches heels, my head still only reached his chest.

"You're new here," he stated as we walked towards the bar. He steered us past a couple with one woman walking a man with a collar and chain, and I couldn't help but turn around and look at them some more, curious how it would feel to be walked like that. Though I didn't know if that stuff was really my kink, I guess I would find out some time.

"Is it that obvious?" I asked, slightly flustered when I noticed him studying the way I watched the couple.

"Kind of. You have that new, somewhat terrified look about you. But that wasn't why I knew it. It's just, had you been a member, I would've remembered you," he explained.

"Because you know everyone here?" I quirked a brow at him.

"No, because you're too beautiful to forget." Damn my white skin, it made it that much easier to see the splash of pink color on my cheeks growing redder by the second.

I chuckled. "Well, aren't you a smooth talker?"

"Maybe. I still meant it, though. What's your poison of choice?" We'd arrived at the bar. Chris wasn't here, but another bartender—this, a beautiful woman.

Shit, I just realized... Claire mentioned they only accepted beautiful people, and I was at a loss as I recalled it. Even with my inner mantra—I am a confident, sexy woman who takes control of my desires—I still felt a little like an imposter. I couldn't possibly be in the same league as Claire, Charlotte, Jennifer, and the likes... could I? I wasn't tall and skinny, with cheekbones crafted by the gods themselves. I was just an average height, big booty, big tits kind of girl.

I was...medium, I felt medium, like the space settled between ugly and gorgeous–just the right amount of both, but not too much of either.

Fuck. I needed to stop zoning out, or I might scare this man away. I had a thing for disappearing inside my mind. "Scotch on the rocks, please."

The man didn't react to my delayed answer, only smiled once more and ordered for both of us. Mentally, I guessed him to be a brandy kind of man, and boy was I right. I was good at guessing what kind of drinks people liked and rarely guessed wrong. Kevin always joked that I was a psychic, but only when it came to alcoholic beverages.

"How are you enjoying yourself here so far?" The surfer, as I had dubbed him, asked. Thank God he took charge of the conversation, or else I would end up talking about the weather or something along those lines.

"Good. Great. I mean, it's all very new and exciting, but also scary. You were right when you said I looked terrified. I feel terrified, but in the best way." I was babbling, but I stopped when I saw the amusement in his eyes return.

"I get it. That's completely normal. My tip is that you should probably come to the club often in the beginning. If it takes a week between each time you come here, it will take longer to get over that fear."

The advice was sound, and I nodded in appreciation. "Thanks, I think I'll do just that." With only a three-month membership, I had to milk it for all it was worth.

"Let's go sit over there." The surfer indicated towards a booth in a dark corner after we got our drinks.

I shivered a little as I rose from my chair and followed him to the very dark, very private sitting area.

"What did you think about the scene earlier," he said as we settled on the bench. I ended up sitting between him and the wall.

Licking my lips, I thought about what I'd seen. His eyes zeroed in on my mouth, and I couldn't help myself from swiping my bottom lip one more time, seeing his pupils dilate.

"It was hot," I confessed, trying to not be ashamed as I said it. I wasn't used to talking about sex so openly, but it felt freeing to do so.

"Is that something you would like? To be stripped naked while people watched. Have them see you be punished," he smirked before he finished his question, "and pleasured?"

My pussy squeezed at the thought of doing just that. I could admit to myself that that sounded exciting, but I didn't know if I was confident enough to be laid bare like that in front of so many people.

"Maybe," I whispered, my voice slightly husky.

"What more do you wish to do?" He looked at me so intensely I wondered if he could see the way my chest moved up and down fast as I breathed heavily or the pulse in my neck pounding rapidly.

"There's a lot I wish for, but that's for my future dominant to know," I whispered, feeling smug as his eyes flashed.

"Fair enough," he conceded, and it was almost like I could physically see him calming himself down. His eyes dimmed; the heat snuffed out. I missed it as soon as it was gone.

Taking the last swallow of my drink, I looked at him. "It's getting late, and I have work tomorrow. I should probably go home. Thank you for the drink and the company." As I said the last part, I blushed, my mind going to the scene when we stood close. It was innocent enough, but the sexual tension between us was definitely not PG-13.

"It was nice to meet you...?" He rose from his seat and stepped to the side so I could get out of the booth.

"Emma," I answered his unspoken question.

"Emma," he repeated. The way my name rolled off his tongue made my panties melt. My name in his mouth should've been forbidden.

"I'm Mateo."