Chapter 3: The High-End Club

"Andy, let me go." Leila thrashed under me, clawing and grabbing, near enough to sink her teeth in.  I knew exactly why I did it. The second I pinned her, a flicker crossed my mind, and I saw Stephanie in her place. Good-looking women often share similar features. The oval face, the slender, arched eyebrows, the almond-shaped eyes, even the same pale, delicate skin. Panting hard, I held Leila down. Somewhere in the struggle, Leila seemed to feel it too, that conflicting rush. She pushed at me, yet a tiny part of her leaned into the way I controlled her. I had never done anything like this, but my body behaved as if it had taught itself. I pushed her legs apart and drove my hips forward. A sudden jolt ran through me like a live wire, and my whole body went slack from the flood of sensation. Leila could not help frowning. "You little brat," she snapped, "you have no experience at all and you dare pull a stunt like this?" Heat climbed my face. A rueful thought flashed through my head: So the novels were right-you can't even find it your first time. I didn't even get it in, but that warm, slick softness made me tremble anyway. Her scolding still ringing in my ears as I growled, "Again," and tried to force it. Leila came back to herself and flinched just a little.  I missed again. Shit. I swore under my breath and was about to lose my temper when Leila reached for me, her fingers circling me with a sure grip. Warm breath brushed my skin as she said, "Are you punishing yourself, or punishing me?" She stroked me twice to guide me in. That did it. Excitement slammed through me. "Lei-Leila… Lei-Leila… I… I, I..."  The words tangled in my mouth as my body betrayed me. I came right then and there. She had not expected two strokes to be enough. Her brows unknitted in surprise, and then she held her stomach and laughed until she shook. "You little scamp, was that your first time?" she said, still laughing. Her laughter made me want to crawl into a hole. Some 'forcing' that was. Mortifying. Embarrassing as it was, at least that wicked fire inside me had burned out. I did not answer her. I yanked up my pants and went to the bathroom to wash my hands. Leila muttered something like "little punk," then wrapped herself in the robe I had torn and hurried to the bedroom to change. After I washed my hands, I splashed my face with cold water. Staring at myself in the mirror, I told myself, "Andy, this was the first and definitely the last. Stephanie is Stephanie. Leila is Leila. You can't cross that line with Leila again. You will not become the kind of man you hate." The reprimand took some weight off my chest. When I stepped out, Leila had changed into a knit top and jeans. She had covered up, but that lovely face and that curvy shape still tempted the eyes. She caught me looking. Her eyebrows shot up. She lifted the fruit knife from the table. "Try coming any closer and see what happens." The knife sobered me up fast. Guilt tightened in my throat. I lifted both hands and took two steps back. I apologized, seriously, babbling that I don't know what came over me-maybe I was high on water… and that thinking about Stephanie and the mess at home had all tangled up inside me until I was furious. "Bull," Leila said, cheeks puffed with anger. "I've been drinking water for twenty-seven years-it's never gotten me drunk." Her eyes flicked, as if struck by a thought. "Deep down, do you look down on me?" "No," I said quickly. "No? Then how did you get this bold? If you hadn't looked so pitiful last night, and if your mom hadn't been good to me when I was young, I would have thrown you out already." She pointed at me and scolded me, then snatched up the box of tissues on the table and lobbed it at me. "Go clean up that puddle of yours in the kitchen!" I caught the box and muttered, "Like none of that was yours…" "What?" Leila's eyes went wide. She had heard me and looked ready to let loose again. "It's nothing, I said quickly, and hurried to the kitchen. I wiped the counter until it shone, then finished the dishes she had left half-washed and put them away. When I finished, I sat on the sofa to watch TV with her. During the ad break, maybe because I had settled down and looked well-behaved again, she leaned over and asked quietly, "Andy, are you still a virgin?" I had not expected her to care about that, and I did not want to answer. I acted as if I had not heard. She asked again, louder.  Irritation pricked me, and I snapped, "It's not like you're going to sleep with me… why do you keep asking?" "Get lost!" Leila picked up a cushion and threw it at me. "If some woman suddenly tried to force you into that, could you just go along with it?" I shook my head. No. Even if a stunning beauty tried to force me, I would not be able to accept it in a heartbeat. It's human nature to push back. Of course, if a total knockout tried to force me, I'd probably resist for a couple of seconds, then just go along with it. That thought made me glance at Leila again. "Leila, I'm sorry." "Forget it," she said with a sidelong look. "Just handle what I asked you to do." Her words piqued my curiosity. "If Sullivan really has a woman on the side, what will you do?" "I will go confront him," she said, the words dry, almost teasing herself. "He has a wife and a family. He cannot afford a public scene, so he will pay to hush it up. My youth is already gone. Him cutting me loose is only a matter of time. I might as well take some money and leave with my dignity." She put on a brave face, but that was how women were. Once the heart moved, it was hard to sever cleanly. I kept my silence. I did not know how to comfort her. So I stayed beside her on the sofa and sat there in silence, listening to each other's breathing. Two days later, thanks to Leila's introduction, I became a server at Sullivan's club. The place was high-end, extremely discreet. It catered to the wealthy, men and women alike. If you had money, you could come and have your fun. There were six floors. The bottom three were for fitness and entertainment: karaoke lounges, a bar, a gym, an indoor pool, even a small indoor golf range. The top three floors handled 'private' services for clients. Leila got my foot in the door. Maybe Sullivan was wary, maybe not, but he assigned me to the lower levels. I would not have dreamed of defying him. The floor manager showed me the ropes. The club provided a dorm for staff. Leila's place had only one bedroom, and I never knew when Sullivan might show up unannounced, so I moved into the dorm. When I had downtime, I called Leila and chatted. Over those days, I made a few decent friends, guys and girls, pretty easy to get along with. Sullivan did not appear much at the club. Then one day, I saw my ex. After a little over ten days, she already looked different. The schoolgirl sweetness was gone. Her midriff showed, and she sashayed as she walked, sultry and hard to look away from.