Taking Turns (Turning #1)(58)

“Think of Friday through Sunday as your days off. Can you do that? Just stay at your own house and come back to the Club Sunday midnight for Quin. Quin is easy to manage. He’s fun, right? He can f*ck you all he wants without the games. Be a good friend.”

“And you?” I ask, wondering where he’s going with this idea.

“I can f*ck you all I want too. As long we have a camera for Smith to watch us later. We can pretend he’s not there. We can pretend it’s just us. I’ve done it before, Chella. It will work if you allow it to work.”

He lets go of my hands, stands up, and walks around the desk until he’s towering over me. He’s hard just from the talk. His huge cock is outlined in his pants and he grabs it for a second, like he’s trying his best to make it shrink.

I look up at his face, doing my best not to beg him to f*ck me right now.

“Is this what you want?” I ask. “For me to cut him out?”

Bric just shrugs. “You only have three choices. Cut him out. Let him join us. Or walk away. I just want to make sure you don’t walk away.” He reaches for my hand, pulls me up so I’m standing, and then kisses it lightly. Gently. His soft, full lips lingering for a second before he pulls away and looking me in the eyes. “I’m enjoying you very much, Marcella Walcott. And I’d like to keep enjoying you for as long as possible. So make your choice. Whichever one is best for you. And I hope that it’s the one I suggested.”

“Why?” I ask, my voice small and timid. “Do you want me all to yourself?”

“I’ll never have that,” he says. “I’ll always be sharing you with Quin, no matter what. But I certainly wouldn’t mind having you without Smith. It’s just not my decision to make. So we work with what we have.”





Chapter Twenty - Smith




“So you went to talk to her?” I ask. “Why, exactly?” If Bric gives a f*ck that I’m pissed off, he doesn’t show it.

“You know why.”

“No, I actually don’t. So give me more, Bric. Because I’m starting to get mad.”

We’re sitting up in my private bar overlooking the Black Room. It’s Saturday night, I’m here alone, I can’t go see Chella because I don’t trust myself to adhere to the rules… and then this * comes in and tells me he checked up on her today. At least she’s at home and not here. One less thing to worry about.

Bric is smoking a cigar, which he hardly ever does and he knows I hate, so I know he’s doing it on purpose. Why is he f*cking with me?

“I’m just curious, Smith.”

“About?”

But Quin walks in just as Bric is about to explain and takes his seat across from me and next to Bric. “What’s up?” he asks me. Then, “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be upstairs?”

“I’m holding back,” I say, trying not to growl out the word.

“Why?” Quin laughs. But then I look at Bric and he presses his lips together and nods. “OK. So we’re gonna go through this again? Why can’t you *s just enjoy yourselves and not make things complicated?”

“Says the guy who fell in love with Rochelle and drove her away.” I don’t know why I just said that. And I don’t even know where it came from, because it’s not true.

“Nice,” Bric says, puffing on the cigar. “Nice going, Smith.”

“All right,” Quin says, standing back up. “Fuck both of you. I don’t need this shit. I don’t need either of you to enjoy this arrangement. I get her all to myself. No games. And I only came to go downstairs tonight, so catch you down there whenever the f*ck I see you.”

Bric and I both watch him walk out.

“Just stay away from her, OK?” I say. “If it’s not Wednesday or Thursday, stay away and keep your f*cking mouth shut. I don’t like to be talked about, you know that. Don’t talk about me to her.”

Bric is silent for almost a minute before he too gets up from my table and heads towards the stairs. I watch him go down into the lobby. Lucinda is here again. I cannot remember, for the life of me, seeing her so goddamned much in such a short time span.

But then I see why she’s here when the newest member, Jordan Wells, brings her a drink and he cops a feel between her legs as her husband watches with eager eyes.

Saturday nights at Turning Point Club can get wild. It’s all private. All the shades are closed on the windows facing the street and the restaurant is closed to the public, so you have to be a member to get past the front door.

Bric stops to chat with her, also copping a feel, which makes her whole face light up with delight. She’s been after us both for years. But he can have her. I’m not interested. He goes downstairs every weekend. Without fail. And most of the time I have no idea what he’s doing down there. Don’t care, either.

I went for Lucinda’s birthday party two weeks ago because it’s something I do to make her happy, but I only came back because I was horny as f*ck. Marcella Walcott’s * was wet when I checked her in Rochelle’s closet. Has it only been two weeks?

A few minutes later Lucinda heads towards the back of the lobby with Bric, Jordan, and her husband. Bric’s eyes meet mine as he moves out of sight.