Author's Note: Mucho Mucho MUCHO thanks to anmodo for catching a MAJOR error on my part concerning Danny's character. The correction has been made in Chapter 6.
"Lady…you sure you want to get out here?" the cabbie asked, throwing Samantha a bizarre look over his shoulder. "There's nothing here but a buncha factories."
"Yes, yes this is it," Samantha replied. She pulled down the partition door and stuffed some bills inside before climbing out of the cab. The cabbie merely shrugged and pulled away from the curb, his thoughts on all the kinds you could meet in this city.
Samantha watched the retreating cab get smaller down the street. She couldn't bear the thought of anyone, not even a stranger, watching her enter this club. Satisfied, she turned East and started walking the six blocks to Galaxy. The night was lonely and brisk and Samantha let out an involuntary shiver as she pulled her faux fur coat tighter around her body. Not that she was wearing much underneath. She had shimmied her frame into a ridiculously tight, bright red mini-dress and six inch black heels. God, I look like a hooker she thought. To get her mind off of her ill choice of wardrobe and of what lie ahead, she turned her thoughts toward Danny.
She couldn't help but smile. He was such a gentleman. After dropping her off at her apartment, he gave her a light kiss on the cheek and a bear hug. No expectations, no demands. It seemed like every time she looked across the table at him at dinner, she found something else about him that touched her heart, his warm, expressive brown eyes topping the list. She was thoroughly enjoying the attention from Danny and prayed it wouldn't stop anytime soon. Just think if he could see me now, her smile fading at the thought.
Samantha started looking up at the building numbers. Why the hell was she doing this again? She could just turn around and go home. But of course she wouldn't, she couldn't. Samantha had long ago stopped trying to convince herself that she was merely just a highly sexually charged woman who enjoyed having sex with many partners, trying to stay in league with her male counterparts. She knew something much darker lurked just beneath the surface, something that made her experience urges she couldn't control, do things that shamed her to the core. She didn't know if she couldn't stop or just didn't want too.
Then there was the voice. Her voice.
Samantha felt the urge and immediately looked up. She was standing in front of a single, non-descript door, almost invisible by the dour walls of the ramshackle building. She quickly checked the address on the door. Yep, this was it. Glancing to her left and right, the street was still deserted. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she turned the knob and pushed open the door.
She found herself in an empty dark foyer, stumbling to catch her footing. In front of her faced another door, this one made of solid steel. Seeing no knob or latch, she started pushing on the door, to no avail. Looking around she could find no other means of entry.
"May I help you?"
Samantha whirled around to see a small window hole was slid back, revealing the head of a bald Asian woman with dramatic red and black makeup. Four very thin chains were connected to her nose by a hoop that traveled to her earlobe. Samantha immediately started giggling.
"You look straight out of that Janet Jackson video," she squeaked.
The woman did not look amused. "May I help you?" she asked, an edge to her voice.
Samantha bit down on her giggles. "Um, yeah…I was, you know…do you know a guy named Neo Harris? He's about 6' 4", African-American-"
The slamming of the window cut off her flow of words. Samantha let out a breath. Fine, I'll just go home, she thought. The steel door slid open with a quiet whoosh causing Samantha to throw her arms across her eyes to shield from the explosion of light and sound. Once her eyes adjusted, she stepped forward into the club.
"I'll show you where Neo is," a voice said to her right. Samantha's head whipped to the right finding the Asian woman standing there. Samantha couldn't believe how tall the woman was, at least 6 feet. She was bare foot and wore nothing but black hot pants and some intricate studded nipple rings. Samantha immediately felt ridiculously overdressed.
She beckoned with her finger. "Come on."
Samantha obeyed as they entered a blue room. She couldn't believe her eyes. It was as if the place had taken every sexual taboo and stuck it into one place. Two women were pleasuring a man on a lounge chaise, while a man and a woman worked on a swing. A male go-go dancer was feverishly dancing on a pedestal, while a crowd of men watched him, pleasuring themselves during the show.
"…rules here."
"Wha…what? I'm sorry," Samantha said, snapping back to attention. A rather large woman brushed past Samantha, running her hand softly across Samantha's cheek. Samantha grabbed her face in surprise.
The woman stopped and turned to face Samantha. They were now in a yellow tinted room. Samantha watched as a young woman bucked atop a weird contraption. Her guide firmly grabbed Samantha's chin. "Pay attention, I don't have all night."
"Okay," she replied, swatting the woman's hand away.
"We have strict rules here. Number one, this is an invite-only club by only specific people in the club. You are not one of them, so don't try to bring any of your little friends. Protection must be used at all times. If you do not have any, it will be provided to you. If you are not comfortable with the advances of other women and men, please alert one of our bouncers. If you are not comfortable with what other women and men are doing with each other, then leave."
"Got it," Samantha said, trying to listen over the loud moans of the other woman.
"This way."
They finally reached a red-tinted room – of course, Samantha thought – that was full of plush, comfy lounge chairs and sofas. A fruit and cheese bar was laid out with bottles of expensive champagne. The patrons in this room were the most clothed, everyone relaxing and chatting. On the largest sofa sat Neo, flanked by two buxom young ladies.
"Samantha," he said, standing up. His long legs closed the distance between them quickly. "I'm so glad you decided to come."
"Uh, yeah, yeah…thanks for inviting me," Samantha said looking around. Her guide had retreated silently. "You come her often?"
He threw his back and laughed heartily. "Samantha…I own this place."
Samantha's eyebrows shot up. "You can't be serious," she blurted out before she caught herself.
He smiled and grabbed her hand, leading her to the couch. With a slight flick of the hand, he signaled the other women to leave, each slithering reluctantly from the couch. "Have a seat my sexy Samantha. What do you think?"
"I think this place is weird," she said bluntly. "Too weird. Neo, I'm sorry, but this might not be my thing."
He smiled widely, showing his gleaming even white teeth. "Can I get you anything to drink?"
"Sure," she said nervously, already mapping out her escape route. She was turned on by the visuals of sex around her, but she was scared. Scared of getting hurt, scared of dropping to this newfound low.
He passed her a flute of champagne, Samantha accepting it and finishing it off in one fell swoop. He poured her another, this one she favored much slowly.
"So, Samantha, what do you do for a living?" he asked her.
"I'm an attorney."
"Really…what firm?"
"Johnson, Malone and Taylor," she said automatically.
Neo frowned slightly. "I don't believe I've ever heard of that particular firm…what area of practice?"
"Criminal." She was starting to feel much more relaxed. "Can you pour me a bit more of that champagne?"
"Of course," Neo answered, gracefully topping off her glass. She raised it in a half-hearted salute, before taking another swig. "So tell me Samantha. When did attorneys start wearing gun holsters?"
Gun belt? Did she have her gun belt on now? She started patting down her waist before she realized he was referring to their earlier meeting. "Oh, well," she said flippantly, waving away his inquiry. "Some of the people I represent can be a little on the shady side."
"Is that right?"
"Uh-Huh. So…Mr. Neo. It looks like you can just come to this place and get all the sex you want. Why risk it in an alley on a crowded Manhattan street?"
Neo sat back and eased his arm around Samantha's shoulders. Samantha felt her body voluntarily snuggle closer to his rock hard physique. "The thrill Samantha. Isn't that what sex is all about? The variety, the adrenaline rush, the different ways we can perform one of God's most sacred acts. Isn't that why you do it, Samantha?"
"Mmmmm…call me Sam, everyone calls me Sam," she said, evading the question. Samantha could feel the tingling shooting up from her arms and legs as her body continued to relax deep into the sofa cushion. Warning bells rang in the back of her mind, but she pushed them aside as if swatting away a pesky fly.
"You are a 'Samantha', not a 'Sam'," Neo said firmly, cupping her chin. "You are too beautiful, too graceful, too sensual to be called anything else. Shanya, can you come over here?" he said abruptly.
A petite woman with a mess of curly red hair stood up and approached Samantha and Neo. She bent forward and kissed Neo passionately on the lips by way of greeting. Samantha couldn't help thinking of Manela Cruz, the vivid red haired prostitute/nursing student with the slit throat. Samantha started giggling over the absurdity.
Neo and Shanya looked at Samantha. "Do you want to clue us in?" Neo asked, smiling slightly.
"Can I…can I touch your hair?" Samantha asked Shanya, chuckling.
Shanya stepped forward and leaned down in front of Samantha. "Honey," she purred. "I'll let you touch a lot more than my hair."
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