She turns her head and keeps climbing until she gets to the landing and presses the button for the elevator.

"Chella," I say again, a little louder this time as I get up and walk to the opening of my private bar and look down at her. "What are you doing?"

The elevator doors open and she steps inside without answering me.

I jump down the six steps that lead to the second-story landing and follow her, just in time before the elevator doors close.

"Did you hear me?"

"Do I appear deaf? Of course I heard you."

"Why are you here?"

"I live here. Top-floor apartment. Brand new furniture. Ringing any bells?"

"No," I say. "You do not live here. You live down on Little Raven Street and that's where you need to go. Right now."

"No," Chella says, her back straight, her chin tipped up. Defiant. "No. I'm not going back there. I'm bored. And you already told me you wouldn't be around this evening. So why should I stay there? I'd rather be here."

"It's Saturday night, Chella. You don't need to be here, trust me."

"Rochelle stayed here on Saturday nights."

"That's not the same thing."

"Why not?"

"Because I was Number Two with Rochelle."

"And?"

And I wasn't playing games with her like I am with you. But I don't say that. I say, "It was a lot simpler."

The elevator doors open and she steps out, the keycard to her apartment already in her hand. She unlocks the door and swings it open, then blocks my entrance so I can't come in. "I'm tired, so you don't need to babysit me."

"Move," I say. "I want in."

"I thought you don't want to spend time with me?" she says.

"I thought you wanted to stay at your own home as much as possible," I counter.

"I changed my mind."

"Well, so did I." She steps aside and I walk past her, go into the kitchen, and immediately take down a bottle of Scotch I stashed in the cupboard while she was at work this week.

Chella closes the door and walks down the hall to her bedroom.

I pour myself a drink, take a long gulp, refill, and then follow her. She's undressing. I can see her through the open door of the massive closet. I see Quin has been busy, because she's got a lot more clothes in there than she did the last time I was in here.

"You know," she says, "if you want me to go home, you might consider lifting the order on that sex tape you've had running on my bedroom TV for three days."

I almost laugh. "You didn't turn it off?" And then I do laugh.

She glares at me as the dress slips down her body and pools into a puddle at her feet. "You told me not to. Am I the only one following the rules anymore? I mean I figured things would go off the rails, but I didn't think it would only take a week."

"Hmm," I say. "Is this about Bric coming to see you yesterday? Because I never told him to."

"Of course you didn't. He was there asking me to deny you access to our bedroom and cut you out of the relationship completely by making you watch remotely."

I just blink at her. "Are you fucking serious right now?"

"Why would I lie about that?"

I can think of about two dozen reasons why one of our toys might lie about that. But none of them ring true about Marcella Walcott. She stands there naked, waiting to see if I'll answer. But I suddenly have the urge to shut the fuck up.

Bric is getting bold.

Chella shrugs at my silence and then turns to her underwear drawer and takes out a cream-colored lace nightie that has Quin's handiwork all over it.

I mostly like them to sleep naked. Quin likes to dress them up like dolls every chance he gets.

I lean against the closet door, trying my best to look nonchalant as I watch her pull the lace over her tits and then jiggle them around to get them situated.

Chella ignores me, pushing past with a hand on my chest to give herself room to get by. And then she walks out of the bedroom and down the hall, back to the living room.

I did not miss the fact that she has no panties on. Or that she touched me.

Is she trying to fuck with me tonight? Is she baiting me to break the rules? Is she really considering Bric's advice?

He doesn't want me out. That defeats the whole purpose of what we're doing. So he's added this little interesting element to push thing along quicker.

Is that what he's doing? Or is he serious? Does he want her to cut me out?

I don't know why it hits me so hard, but it does. I have never thought of these girls we play with as something to own. But suddenly things feel... different.

Does he want her? For himself?

I shake my head at that. It makes no sense. I mean, I want her for myself, but I'm me. I'm a selfish asshole. I want everything for myself. It's in my blood. It's part of my charm.

Even I have to chuckle at that last one.

I'm pretty sure no one calls me charming. That's Quin, if it's any of us.

But fuck Bric for telling her to cut me out even if it was part of his game. Has he done this before? He didn't have to do it with Rochelle. I was Number Two. I had her whenever I wanted her. Which was often in the beginning. But she got old fast. We had nothing in common.

But Chella is the exact opposite of Rochelle. I can't think of a single commonality about them. Except us, of course.

Did Bric play this game with Quin, when he was Number One with Rochelle? I suddenly have the need to ask him. I head down the hallway, leaving to go downstairs and have this out with Bric and Quin, when Chella says, "What do they do down there?"

"Huh?" I ask, my hand reaching for the doorknob. I turn and look over my shoulder. She's sitting in a chair in front of the window. My chair in front of the window. The one I should be sitting in as I watch her. And she's got her legs open, flashing that wet, pink pussy at me. "What the fuck are you doing?"

She smiles. Shrugs. "What?" she asks innocently. "I thought you liked to watch."

I do.

"Downstairs. When they go downstairs in the basement. Rochelle said she'd never been down there."

An evil idea is percolating in my head. "And you never will either. It's not a place for you. You're not even a member."

"So what's the big secret?"

"The secret?" I laugh. "It's not a secret. We fuck people down there. In groups. A husband-wife team chooses others to join them, and we all fuck until we're spent. Does that satisfy your curiosity?"

"Is Bric down there now? And Quin?"

Yes, evil little idea, come to Daddy. I'll take care of you. Nurture you. Keep you alive and healthy. "What do you think?" I ask her.

She lets out a long exhale. "I want to think no. Because I should be enough."

"Oh." I laugh the word out. "Enough, you say? That's so fucking interesting coming from a woman who needs three men to satisfy her."

"Who said I do?" she snaps, anger all over her red-flushed face. "I never said that. You guys offered this to me."

"You invited yourself in knowing full well what it was. So hey"-I laugh-"If you're gonna get jealous about Bric and Quin fucking other women, then you better keep that to yourself. We don't put up with it."

"But you put up with Bric telling me to cut you out?"

Yes, evil idea, I will take you home and keep you forever. "Would you like to go downstairs, Chella? Would you like to see what Bric and Quin are doing right now?"

"Is that a joke? Or a real offer?"

I shrug. "Take it any way you want. But if you say yes, and you don't like what you see, don't come crying to me when your filthy deviant heart gets broken. Because I'll tell you something right now, Chella, you can't ever compare to the sluts we have down there when it comes to sex. Bric will never give that up. Quin, maybe. But Bric is in for the duration."

"And you?"

I laugh again. "I don't go down there. That night Quin found you in Rochelle's bed was the first time all year for me."

"Then why go that night?"

"Because you made me."

"I made you?" She laughs.

"You and your wet pussy in that closet. You with your innocent eyes and dirty mouth. You with your big idea to come rock our world and join our game. I went down because of you, Chella. And when Bric fucked his four-yes, four-sluts that night, I painted your face on each one of them as I jerked off and watched."

We stare at each other. It seems like years go by in silence. "Take me down," she finally says. "I want to see."

"See?" I shake my head. "Everyone who goes down participates, Chella. It's not a spectator sport."

"But you just said you only watched. That you jerked off. So why can't I watch with you?"

Because I won't be able to control myself. Because I'll end up pushing you into a corner and fucking you from behind. Because I'll beat the shit out of anyone who comes near you, looks at you wrong- "Smith?" she says, drawing me out of my thoughts. "Please take me down. I'll do whatever you say. If you want to go dark, then don't take a light, right?"

I smile. "Marcella Walcott wants to leave her light behind?"

"I'm yours tonight, Smith Baldwin," she says back.

My evil idea is bigger now. Blossoming into something beautiful. "Take off your nightie. All the women have to enter naked."

Chapter Twenty-One - Chella.

"I'm not walking through the lobby naked."

Smith gives me a look that says, Don't be stupid. "We're not going to the lobby, Chella. We'll take the freight elevator."

"What happened to 'I'm Smith Baldwin and I'm too good for the freight elevator?'"

"Do you want to see it or not?" he asks. "Because you're not supposed to be down there and if Bric and Quin see you..."

"Then what?" I ask. "What will they do?"

"They'll just be pissed off. The reason we have you is to keep you separate from all that."

"So why are you going to ruin it?"

"OK," he says. "We won't go."

"I'm not saying that. I want to go-"

"Then shut the fuck up and take off your clothes," Smith growls. "I'll take you down in the freight elevator. It'll bring us to the back end of the space and then I'll give you a peek."

"Just a peek?" I ask. "You guys seem to throw that word around a lot. 'It's just a peek, Chella. A little glimpse into the forbidden.'" He's about to say fuck the whole thing, I can tell. But I have a point, so I get to it. "Why don't you guys just admit it?"

"Admit what?" he asks.

"That it's not a peek at all, it's full immersion. It's not dipping a toe in the water, Smith. It's drowning in the dark depths."

He lets out a small laugh and then that surly frown turns into a grin. "You want to live in it, Chella? Do you want me to invite you deeper?"

"Obviously that answer is yes, Smith." I stare at him as he reassesses me. "If you think I don't know what I'm getting into, you're wrong."

He rubs the stubble on his jaw. "Really? You're an old pro at the fine art of sex club navigation, are you?"