Rain poured down in sheets as Jane made her way through the milling throng in the bustling downtown section of New York City. Cold permeated her bones as she glanced at the small, damp piece of paper in her hand.
“Eighty Two East Twenty Third Street,” she read aloud.
She glanced at the bright red neon sign overhead. “Club Red,” she murmured.
Jane peered at the address above the door, then looked at the limp paper in her hand, the rain splashing against her face.
“This can’t be right,” she muttered as she took in the sight of the seedy little building sandwiched between two refurbished brownstones.
John, her husband of fifteen years said to meet him at this address—they’d have a nice dinner, celebrate their fifteen year anniversary in real style…
Her shoulders slumped. What kind of place was this, anyway?
The door creaked open. She heard a man’s voice. “Are you Jane?”
Her eyes widened. She looked right, then left before replying, suspicion filling her. “Who wants to know?” she asked.
“The gentlemen in question said, ‘Take a Chance On Me.’”
She bit her lower lip. That was a line from one of her favorite songs, by one of her favorite oldies singing group…only John would know that.
John. Right now, she’d give anything to be with him…and get warm and dry.
The man at the door grinned. “At least come in—out of the rain.”
What was this guy? A mind reader?
Jane grabbed her cell phone from her bag and dialed John’s number. He picked it up on the second ring.
“Where are you?” His deep voice caressed her ears.
“Outside a place called Club Red.”
She heard the laughter in his voice. “Glad you found it. Is Ritchie there at the door?”
She lowered the cell phone from her ear. “Are you Ritchie?”
The man at the door nodded, his smile wide.
“He’s okay, Jane, and so is Club Red.”
She shook her head and gripped the phone tighter. “John, just what are you up to?”
He chuckled. “Giving you exactly what you want for your anniversary, sweetheart.”
Her heart skipped a beat, her pulse raced like a runaway train.
Jane licked her suddenly very dry lips. Had all the hints she’d been leaving around the house finally worked?
“Take a chance on me, baby…on us…I promise, you won’t regret it.”
Jane stepped inside Club Red, anticipation coursing through her veins…
And fear.
No, she wouldn’t panic. She had made several bold moves over the last couple of months, maybe they finally paid off…maybe John truly understood what she wanted for their anniversary…
After fifteen years…
It was about time…
For them.
Soft lighting accentuated the dark mahogany wood on the inside of Club Red. A fire burned and crackled in a fireplace on the opposite side of the room. A few patrons lingered by the bar.
John spotted Jane and rose to his full height of six feet two inches.
She was always amazed that just the sight of his tall frame could make her heart beat wildly. The last several years had them juggling careers, kids and marriage—she thought that feeling died.
She arrived at the table. He helped her off with her coat, planting a soft kiss on the nape of her neck.
Jane shuddered pleasurably in response, her body heating from the touch of his lips to her sensitive skin.
When she sat down, John leaned over, whispering in her ear. “Happy anniversary, my love.”
He placed a black velvet jeweler’s box in front of her.
Jane let go of the breath she’d held.
“Go on, open it.” He nodded towards the bright pink bow on the box.
Sliding into the booth next to her, his eyes never left her face.
Jane’s fingers shook as she untied the ribbon. “I thought we agreed - no presents?”
He laid a hand over hers. “I’m sitting right next to mine.”
“John,” she breathed as he kissed her, his lips fusing with hers.
She managed to open the box and gazed at the ring inside.
Fifteen magnificent diamonds winked at her from a white gold band. John slipped it on her finger.
“We’ll add one for every year.”
She nodded, at a loss for words.
His face turned serious. “I’ve been a boar these last few years…”
“No”, she shook her head. “We’re both at fault, letting life get in the way of us.”
“Never again,” he whispered in her ear. He raised both her hands and kissed the backs of them.
She felt a tingle race up her spine.
“I took the liberty of ordering for us. I got you your favorite—lobster Fra diavolo. We’ll be able to eat before the show starts.”
“Show?” She frowned. “What show?”
John’s eyes lit from within. “You’ll see.”
* * * *
After dinner, the little man, Ritchie, who greeted Jane at the door earlier, now stood in the middle of the floor. Dressed in black leather from head to toe, he suddenly didn’t seem so small. “At the end of our show, you’ll see how Club Red got its name. You don’t have to stay, if you don’t want to play our little game.”
“What game is he talking about?” Jane leaned over and whispered to John.
He curled an arm around her shoulders and leaned back in the booth, taking Jane with him, pillowing her head on his shoulder. After all these years, John thought they still felt right together.
Even if things turned boring in the bedroom.
When they managed to make love.
Life always got in the way.
Not tonight.
Tonight, he’d become Jane’s hero, all over again.
Sometimes, you just had to start from the beginning.
“…Our show’s not for the faint of heart. It’ll give you a thrill.”
Ritchie looked directly at the two of them.
“You might be afraid to ask, you might have wanted to stir the pot, if so, then our little performance will disappoint you not. Fantasy…”
This time, Ritchie walked over and spoke directly to Jane.
Good! That’s what I paid him the big bucks for.
“What’s yours, my lovely? If it’s what I think, soon you’ll be squirming in your seat, just on the brink…”
John saw the little vein pulse in Jane’s temple. She swallowed, moistening her lips with the tip of her pink tongue.
“Of desire and passion, perhaps a little pain?”
Her eyes widened. She glanced at John.
He smiled back, a knowing grin. I won’t disappoint you tonight, sweetheart.
“If that’s not your game, you’re welcome to leave, otherwise, sit back and watch Mark and Genevieve.”
The lights dimmed, except for one. It shone down on a man and woman in the center of the room. John glanced at Jane’s face, making sure that this was indeed what she wanted…
Hell, she didn’t know how much he wanted it…
She had left enough clues.
Dressed in black leather outfits, their eyes concealed behind masks, Mark and Genevieve began an erotic love play in the center of the room. Genevieve turned, the seat of her black leather pants missing, exposing a nicely rounded bare bottom.
Not one half as nice as Jane’s!
John kept his eyes on his wife. He could feel her tremble. Even in the dim light of Club Red, he could see her eyes dilate with passion, her gaze fixed on the man and woman in the center of the room.
The air crackled with sensual tension as Mark pulled a chair over and sat down, pulling Genevieve onto his lap. She straddled him then they kissed, their mouths fusing together, their tongues mating in sensual foreplay. Mark shifted Genevieve, so that she lay face down over his lap, her bottom rising up in the air.
“And now you’ll see where Club Red gets its name, as Mark lays his hand on Genevieve’s derriere.”
SMACK!
Jane’s hand strayed to John’s thigh. She stroked his leg, each time Mark spanked Genevieve.
He had read her clues right!
SMACK!
Jane shifted in the seat next to him.
SMACK!
The light shone down on Genevieve’s bare bottom.
“Mark enjoys raising some heat, on Genevieve’s bare ass, it is always a treat.” Ritchie sing-songed.
SMACK!
Genevieve squirmed against Mark’s thighs, her long golden hair brushing the floor.
SMACK!
“Fini!”
The crowd went wild with applause as Mark helped Genevieve from his lap, turning her so that the audience could see her backside. In the bright light, her bottom gleamed red.
Jane sucked in a breath, her hand straying once more.
Mark and Genevieve took their bows, then left.
“Do you want to stay and watch the next show?” Mark asked, his desire for his beautiful wife of fifteen years, like a banked fire, waiting to leap into flame.
“I want to go home,” she whispered, smiling. “And make love—with you.”
He didn’t have to be asked twice.
* * * *
They arrived home to a quiet, childless house that evening.
Jane raced up the stairs with Mark behind her. She laughed when she beat him into the bedroom.
He slammed the door behind him, and slowly stalked her.
She couldn’t catch her breath.
The backs of her knees hit the bed, where she tumbled backwards onto the mattress.
John followed her down, settling his tall frame next to hers.
He leaned down to kiss her.
Jane stroked his face.
How handsome he still was…and always would be.
“When did you figure it out?”
He grinned, brushing some hair from her cheeks. “Hmmmm…I think it was when you started leaving that wide, flat hairbrush around our bathroom, on your dresser.” His grin widened. “On my bureau.”
She blushed to the roots of her hair. Her entire body felt on fire as she imagined John doing exactly what Mark had done to Genevieve at Club Red.
He drew his brows together. “Why didn’t you just come out and tell me, Jane?”
She sobered. “I-I thought you’d think I was crazy if I told you I wanted to try something different.” She grabbed his hand, placing it over her heart. “I love you, a-and I was so afraid I was losing you—to life—to our jobs, our kids…”
“Never,” he crooned.
He opened her blouse, button by button, savoring the feel of her breasts as his knuckles skimmed across them. He released the catch on her bra, letting them spill into his hands. Then he leaned down and kissed each one.
John reached under her skirt and grinned.
“My, my, are we a naughty girl? Where are your panties?”
She blushed again. Jane couldn’t recall the last time her face heated this much. She only hoped her bottom would, too.
“I’ve been a very bad girl.”
John smiled. He rose from the bed, pulling her up with him. Then he eased her facedown across his lap, running hand across her bare bottom cheeks.
SMACK!
She squirmed against him, surprised by the sting, even more amazed at the pleasure his hand wrought on her tender flesh. Jane maneuvered her backside, aiming it high in the air.
SMACK!
She couldn’t see him but that only heightened the erotic feel.
SMACK!
The little nubbin between her thighs pulsed with pleasure.
SMACK!
Wiggling against his muscular thighs, moisture built between her legs, her body suddenly spiraling out of control as white-hot need grew inside her.
SMACK!
John eased her from his lap, laying her face down on the bed.
He stripped out of his clothes, and joined her there. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he drew her up to her knees. He ran a hand across her bottom.
“Lovely,” he murmured in her ear.
She smiled, a slow, satisfied grin.
John entered her slowly, making sure the tip of his penis touched her labia each time he pushed in and pulled out.
Her orgasm hit within seconds, her clit swollen and throbbing.
John came, his roar of pleasure echoing throughout the room.
He tumbled down onto the bed, pulling her with him.
Kissing the top of her head, he said, “Happy?”
Jane nodded, snuggling closer.
He lifted her chin. “Ask me and it’s yours, sweetheart. I always want to make you happy.” His face turned serious. “We’re going to make more time for us.”
Fifteen years they’d been married…
Jane hoped it could be for a hundred and fifty more.
Grateful they’d had the chance to spice it up at Club Red.
Story Written by Erotic Romance Author Catrina Calloway
www.myspace.com/catrinacalloway
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