Afterlife by Joey W. Hill Read Free Book Online

to such sites in a
    very long time, but during her
    sleepless Sunday night, she’d
    searched on the name of the club
    specifical y—Club More,
    Baton Rouge. Perversely, she hoped
    it had closed down,
    putting it beyond the reach of
    temptation, but it was stil
    there, with a current revision date for
    the website. Very little
    other information was provided,
    except the cover charge,
    operation hours and an offer to join
    the club mailing list she
    declined.
    Regardless, the name— More —felt
    like a sign, an arrow
    demanding she go in that direction.
    She knew she was
    feverish, manic and it was the wrong
    thing to do, but no one
    would know her, and if it was a
    complete disaster, she
    could put this to rest once and for al .
    Jon cal ed late
    afternoon when she was handling
    another appointment.
    When she saw the message show up
    on her cel phone,
    she forced herself to hit the delete
    button, even as her heart
    screamed at her as if betrayed.
    She had to get herself back in control
    before she
    exposed herself to more of his
    irresistible persuasion. He
    didn’t understand that she couldn’t do
    this. Unfortunately,
    the rest of her didn’t understand
    either, and she had to fix
    that. Prove it was a mistake or see if
    she was strong
    enough to go down the path he’d re-
    opened in front of her.
    And she wanted to take that test
    alone, away from the eyes
    of anyone who knew her.
    She had no idea what to wear. When
    she got home, she
    settled for a pair of dark slacks she
    thought hugged her
    curves in the right places and a thin
    white blouse. Under it,
    she wore a sexy black demi-cup bra.
    Severe blacks and
    whites, like her severe state of mind.
    Until she’d pawed
    through her mostly mundane
    underwear drawer, she hadn’t
    realized she stil had the bra. It was
    something she’d worn
    for Cole a few times. It seemed
    patently appropriate to
    wear something of that life, so that
    she could remember
    why she couldn’t do this. Which of
    course didn’t quel her
    wary anticipation, her determination
    to go forward with it,
    test it under extreme circumstances.
    She didn’t know if she
    wanted to pass or fail this test, or if it
    would be the same
    thing either way. God, she was a
    pathetic fool.
    It was in a seedy area of town, but
    that didn’t concern her.
    She knew as wel as anyone that adult
    clubs weren’t
    accepted by the mainstream, fetish
    clubs least of al , and
    so they were relegated to industrial
    districts and trashy
    areas frequented by the criminal
    element. She had a Taser
    and pepper spray in her purse, and
    she knew to stay alert.
    There were about fifty cars in the
    parking lot, and at least
    there was a doorman. She saw him
    when she pul ed up, a
    bouncer type al in black, with the
    club logo on his shirt. It
    was reassuring, but it was the only
    thing that was. She sat
    in her car, staring at that door. A
    black, one-story
    rectangular building with metal sides,
    like a squat
    warehouse. No windows of course.
    The chat rooms had
    said the appearance of such places
    could be deceptive,
    right?
    That doorman was approaching her
    car. She had a flash
    of panic, then she rol ed down the
    window. His day’s growth
    of beard made him look even more
    intimidating. Before
    she could speak, he assessed her in
    one glance. “You here
    to find a Master?”
    She moistened her lips. “I…yes. I
    think so. I’ve never—”
    “Shut up, slut. You’l speak when
    spoken to. Give me
    twenty dol ars for the cover charge.”
    She pul ed it out with shaking fingers.
    There were safe
    words, boundaries. They would
    observe them. This was
    part of the role playing, getting into
    the atmosphere. She
    got out, prudent enough to lock the
    car, but then she
    gasped as he shoved her back against
    the closed car
    door. “Put your hands on your head.
    I’m going to frisk you
    for weapons.”
    Okay, now she wasn’t sure. Her mind
    wasn’t keeping up
    though. He took hold of the front of
    her blouse and