Three months later.
When Mike, Harry, and James asked me to continue seeing them, I thought it meant that we’d engage in filth a few more times before they found a new girl at the club. After all, that’s one of the best things about Club Z. The men don’ have to commit, and yet have access to a stable of beautiful women, all willing to please.
But instead, Harry, James and Mike have kept me close. In fact, I’ve almost moved out of my apartment and into Mike’s penthouse. We still use their suite at the Club Z compound on occasion, but our relationship has become “normal” if that’s even possible. I wake up in the morning in the arms of my three men, and then they go off to work while I log-on for my classes. Then in the evening, they come home and we have dinner together before engaging in a night of shenanigans. The amount of money that’s hit my bank account as a result is astonishing, but I don’t really care about that. Instead, I love meeting their needs, and making them moan. I feel that this is what I was born to do, and it makes me happy.
Even more, I have an intuition that my three lovers feel the same about me too. Is that crazy? Of course, none of us have dropped the L-bomb, but I catch Harry, Mike and James watching me on a regular basis with adoration in those blue eyes. They follow my every movement, their eyes running over my curves and taking in the hills and valleys.
But tonight, we’re headed to the club for some fun. It’s nice to change things up a bit, and we haven’t been in a while. Harry has me tucked under his arm, whispering wicked things in my ear as we stroll to the club’s main entrance, Harry and James not far behind. Bruno the bouncer greets us, dressed in his usual leather jacket with his hair slicked back. But instead of letting us pass, he holds an arm up.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Wood,” he begins. “But I’ve been instructed not to let you in. That goes for you as well, Mr. Crew and Mr. Macklowe.”
The three men halt, sharing looks of confusion.
“I’m sorry?” Mike growls. “We’re members here.”
Bruno’s expression is apologetic.
“I’m so sorry, but those are the instructions I’ve been given.”
“There must be some mistake. We’re members in good standing. We’ve paid our dues and all that.”
The bouncer opens his mouth to reply, but before he can say anything, a middle-aged woman dressed in a dark skirt suit strolls into the entryway and holds up a perfectly-manicured hand.
“Thanks, Bruno,” she says before turning our way. “Gentlemen, it’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Dorinda, and I’m the new membership director at Club Z. Could you just step over here for a moment so we can talk?”
My three men are shooting lightning bolts with their eyes, but they accede.
“What’s this about?” James demands. “There must be some mistake.” Dorinda nods, her expression calm.
“I’m so sorry to deliver this news, but I’m afraid you’ve been expelled from Club Z.”
The three men pause for a moment.
“What?” rasps Harry.
“What does that even mean?” Mike demands.
Dorinda shrugs, her expression apologetic.
“It means your memberships have been revoked and cannot be reinstated, so you’ll need to leave club premises at once. We’ll send movers to your suite, and your belongings will be delivered to your home.”
“What?” Harry manages through gritted teeth. “Why though? Did something happen?”
Dorinda nods. “It’s not for me to say, but I believe senior management will speak to you about your membership revocation. Please, follow me and I’ll see if Casper and Clay Richmond are available. This way.” Then, we follow the woman to an elevator, still exchanging looks of shock. What the hell is going on?
* * *
The tension rollingoff my men is palpable. We sit in a luxurious waiting area, but they don’t care. Instead, they’re practically vibrating from a mix of rage and frustration. After all, these are alpha males used to getting what they want. A revocation of their membership is near-impossible to believe.
James faces us with his jaw clenched tight.
“This is total bullshit,” he snarls. “Expelled? Hell, I just paid my membership fee last month, so I want that shit back if I’ve been expelled.”
Harry shakes his head.
“Fuckers,” is all he says.
Then, Dorinda reappears, her expression courteous.
“If you’ll just follow me, gentlemen. The owners of Club Z, Casper and Clay Richmond, will see you now.” She leads us down a hallway before tapping lightly at a huge wooden door and opening it. “Sir?” she asks, poking her head inside. “Mr. Crew, Mr. Wood, and Mr. Macklowe are here. As is Miss Malone,” she adds.
The door opens and we step inside. Holy shit. The office is enormous, with floor to ceiling windows looking out over the club gardens, and built in shelves featuring an array of books and knickknacks. Two mahogany desks are placed in front of the back wall facing the double doors but that’s when the breath catches in my throat because there are two gorgeous men waiting for us. They’re obviously identical twins, given their raven hair, piercing blue eyes, and chiseled features. But Clay and Casper are relaxed. They stand at ease in thousand dollar suits, waiting for us to enter.
“Thank you for coming,” rasps one of the twins. “I’m Clay Richmond, and this is my brother Casper. As you know, we own Club Z. Please, have a seat.” The four of us take chairs around a small table, and Clay and Casper join us, folding their long legs.
“So how can we help you?” Casper asks courteously.