He cheated i chose two firefighters novel Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Scar’s POV

Dear Diary,

Crisis avoided. I called my parents and they didn’t answer. I’ll give it another shot later.

For now, I’m taking the win and focusing on the week in front of me. Next club night can’t come fast enough–Summer promised it’s nothing like the others, and I’m dying to see what she means.

***

“Alright,” Summer said, stopping us before the entrance, “this is Club Deux. It’s not like the other places–this one’s about stimulation. Absolutely no penis–in–vagina sex. You’re about to have a very interesting night.”

We walked up to a building that looked like it belonged in a fever dream: neon pink fa?ade, electric blue light washing the exterior like a glow stick. The windows were fully blacked out despite being huge, which made it feel less like a club and more like the front of an adult shop trying not to advertise.

Inside, the brightness died instantly. It was almost dark, except for thin strips of light running along the floor at the edges, throwing a low, eerie halo over everything.

I trailed behind Maisie, and my attention snagged on the way her hips moved in that red mini skirt. She has an unreal ass, and I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t watching.

She pushed through a black curtain and then another door.

Beyond it sat rows of chairs–at least thirty people–lined up like we’d wandered into a private orientation. They were dressed like upscale staff: crisp white short–sleeved button- ups, black slacks or skirts. The women had black nylons and pumps; the men wore polished dress shoes. Every single one of them looked like they’d stepped out of an ad.

A man with white hair and a matching beard greeted us. His eyes were shockingly blue, almost crystalline. He wore a maroon velvet smoking jacket over black slacks, and he leaned lightly on a cane capped with a silver wolf’s head.

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“Welcome to Club Deux,” he said. “Choose an expert–any of them. They’ll bring you to their room and take it from there.”

Maisie immediately gravitated to a woman with long black hair and green eyes. Summer

picked an Asian man whose eyes were so dark I could barely see the whites. Gavin chose a red–haired guy with a long, Viking–style beard.

I stood there scanning the room, my stomach fluttering.

I was curious, but nerves kept sparking under my skin. What if I hated whatever was about to happen? Could I walk out? Would I get refunded? And then I forced myself to breathe. I came here to have fun–to learn what I liked. Summer, Gavin, and Maisie wouldn’t steer me into something that would make me panic. Right?

And then I saw him.

He was tall–easily a foot taller than me–with tattooed, muscular arms. The kind of arms that made me wonder how far the ink went. His black hair was slicked back, and his eyes w ere such a clear blue they looked like they were lit from inside. Full mouth. Hard, clean jaw.

Like a biker model who’d been stripped of his leather jacket.

I walked straight to him and offered my hand.

He rose, took it, and smiled.

Without saying anything, he led me to a door in the corner and out into a hallway. The corridor seemed to stretch forever, and the silence made my pulse louder. I caught myself biting my bottom lip.

He stopped at a door and opened it.

Inside was a massage table in the center of a room painted deep, dark blue. The lighting stayed low–soft, intimate. A side table held bowls and odd little tools. On a stool sat a small plugged–in box. Against the wall were three square cubbies stacked neatly.

“Take off your clothes and shoes,” he said calmly. “Put your belongings in a cubby. Then pick up the blindfold from the table–I’ll tie it for you. After that, lie face down with your head in the headrest.”

His voice didn’t match his look. He sounded gentle–deep, quiet, careful. It somehow made

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<Chapter 23

me trust him more.

4) Oct 10-5

He turned away and began arranging items on the table. I did what he told me. Once I was

undressed, I lifted the blindfold to my eyes.

He stepped close behind me and tied it snugly.

“This club is about sensation,” he said. “I’ll use my hands and tools to bring you to sexual

release. Sometimes there’s an emotional release too, and that’s completely fine. I have had clients cum and cry. I’m going to guide you down onto the table now. Enjoy.”

He helped position me face down. I’ve had massages before, so the setup felt familiar–at

least, it did until I remembered what kind of place this was.

Soft music drifted through the room. I felt myself loosen slightly as he moved around.

Glass clinked. Something hummed.

Then warm oil hit my spine in slow droplets.

His hands followed, confident and precise, pressing and kneading until my muscles went

slack like they were melting.

Honestly, even if I don’t orgasm, this alone is worth whatever a yearly pass costs.

A small moan slipped out. He answered with a quiet chuckle.

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