Chapter Eight

Grayson sat down at the table, his mood darkened by the encounter at the bar. He handed Emma her drink as he sat down. The redhead had been stunning… those green eyes, that figure, she had oozed sex appeal. He'd been instantly drawn to her, something that hadn't happened in a long time. Mostly, women chased him, not the other way around.

"What happened?" Emma asked, taking a sip of her sparkling water. "You look like someone just insulted our mother."

"Nothing," he muttered, taking a sip of his scotch. The liquid burned pleasantly down his throat but did little to ease his irritation. "Just a misunderstanding."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "A misunderstanding that has you looking ready to throttle someone? Come on, Grayson. Talk to me."

He sighed, setting his glass down. "That woman at the bar accused me of cheating on Morgan. With you."

Emma nearly choked on her water. "With me? Your sister? That's disgusting!"

"She didn't know you were my sister," Grayson clarified, his jaw tightening. "She recognized me, knew I was engaged to Morgan, and jumped to conclusions."

"Was engaged," Emma corrected gently. "Past tense. The tabloids haven't caught up yet."

Grayson ran a hand through his hair. "I told her that. Also told her you were my sister."

"And how did she take it?"

"I didn't stick around to find out." He glanced toward the bar, but the redhead had already returned to her table with friends. From this angle, he could only see her profile, the elegant curve of her neck, the way her fiery hair caught the light.

Emma followed his gaze. "I have to say she is beautiful."

"And quick to judge."

"After what you went through with Morgan, I'm not surprised it bothered you." Emma reached across the table to squeeze his hand. "But it's just a stranger's misconception. You don't know her reasons for jumping to conclusions. Either way, why let it ruin our evening?"

Grayson nodded but couldn't shake his annoyance. The accusation had hit too close to home; the memory of finding Morgan with Tina still cut deep. Being accused of the very thing that had destroyed his engagement felt like salt in an open wound.

"There was something familiar about her," he mused, stealing another glance at the redhead's table. "Like I've met her before. But she said we haven't met."

"Maybe you have? You meet hundreds of people."

"I'd remember her."

Emma smirked. "Because she's gorgeous?"

"Because she had the nerve to call me out like that, she has a mouth on her." Grayson said, though he couldn't deny her beauty was part of it. "Most people are too intimidated."

"Except Joy Smith," Emma pointed out with a small smile. "Your CFO gives you hell regularly, according to your complaints."

Grayson snorted. "Smith is different. That's business." He took another sip of his scotch. "This was... I don't know. Personal."

The waiter arrived with their appetizers, temporarily distracting him from thoughts of the fiery redhead. As Emma chatted about her latest gallery showing, Grayson found his gaze repeatedly drawn to the woman's table. There was something about her laugh, the way she gestured when she spoke...

"You should go talk to her again, if you are that interested," Emma said suddenly.

Grayson snapped his attention back to his sister. "What?"

"The redhead. You keep looking at her. Go apologize or something."

"I have nothing to apologize for."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Fine. Go introduce yourself properly then. She obviously made an impression."

"I'm not looking to date anyone right now," Grayson said firmly. Now what he needed was a good, hard fuck with no strings. He had already reinstated his membership at the club.

"Who said anything about dating? Maybe you just need to get laid."

"Emma!" He glared at his younger sister.

"What?" She shrugged innocently. She didn’t bring up Morgan or Tina, that was a no-go area of conversation right now.

Grayson shifted uncomfortably. His sister wasn't wrong, but he wasn't about to admit it to her.

"I'm fine," he insisted.

"You're wound tighter than that watch you wear."

Grayson stiffened. "It's none of your business."

"I'm just worried about you," Emma admitted.

Grayson stared into his scotch. He'd given up his membership to The Velvet Room when things got serious with Morgan, thinking she was the one he could build a future with. Now, with that illusion shattered, there was nothing holding him back.

"Maybe you are right," he conceded.

Emma studied him for a moment. "Just promise me you won't let what Morgan did poison you against all women. Not everyone's like her," she said, stepping into topics he didn't want to talk about.

"I know that," he said, though part of him wasn't so sure anymore.

His gaze drifted once more to the redhead. Despite their brief, contentious interaction, there was something compelling about her, a spark that had been missing from his life lately. Even his life with Morgan.

Maybe it was time to start living again.

Honey took a deep breath, trying to shake off the embarrassment from her encounter with Grayson. "It's been awful, honestly," she said, explaining everything that had been going on before adding, "Riley and I haven't had sex in months, and when we did..." She lowered her voice, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. "It was terrible. Like, spectacularly bad."

Maggie winced. "How bad are we talking here?"

"He's..." Honey said, twirling the straw in her drink. "It's all about him. Five minutes of missionary, then he's done and rolling over to sleep while I'm just... there. Unsatisfied. It's like he isn't into me at all." She took another sip of her drink, the alcohol loosening her tongue. "I haven't had an orgasm with him. Not once in three years of marriage."

"Not once?" Lauren's eyes widened. "How have you survived?"

Honey felt her cheeks flush. "I take care of myself. What else can I do? Some nights I'm so frustrated I can barely sleep until I... you know." She made a discreet gesture with her hand. "My vibrator gets more action than my husband ever did."

"Jesus," Maggie muttered. "And he had the nerve to cheat on you?"

"He told me I was frigid," Honey admitted, her voice catching slightly. "That it was my fault I couldn't climax with him. Told me he had never had a problem before. I actually believed him for a while."

"That manipulative bastard," Lauren hissed, her eyes darting around the restaurant before leaning in conspiratorially. "I know about a place you could go to."

"A place?" Honey raised an eyebrow. Was she talking about a sex shop?

Lauren nodded, lowering her voice even further. "It's called The Velvet Room. Very exclusive, very discreet. It's a members-only club where people go to... explore. Everyone wears masks, complete anonymity."

"You mean like a sex club?" Honey whispered, shocked.

"Not exactly," Lauren explained. "I mean, yes, there's sex, only if you want it, but it's more than that. It's about fantasy, desire... finding what you really want without judgment."

Maggie looked skeptical. "How do you even know about this place?"

"I dated a guy who was a member," Lauren shrugged. "He took me once. It was... let's say enlightening."

Honey's mind raced. A place where no one knew who she was, where she could be herself or anyone else, she wanted to be. Where she might finally discover if the problem really was her, as Riley had claimed, or if she was capable of pleasure with the right partner… not just her vibrator and her own fingers.

"I don't know..." she began, though something inside her hummed with curiosity.

"Just think about it," Lauren said, pulling out her phone. "I still have the contact information. They screen everyone extensively. Security is tight. No one would ever know you were there."

Honey looked across the restaurant where Grayson sat with his sister, his profile strong and confident. Then she thought of Riley, probably with his teenage mistress right now, both of them believing Honey was too naive to suspect anything.

"Send me the information," she said suddenly. "No promises, but... I'll think about it."

Lauren smiled, typing something into her phone. "Already done. And Honey? Whatever you decide, just remember… you deserve pleasure. Real pleasure. Not whatever sad excuse for intimacy Riley's been giving you. You don't owe him anything."

"To finding real pleasure," Maggie raised her glass in a toast.

Honey clinked her glass against her friends', a flutter of both fear and excitement stirring in her chest. "To finding real pleasure."