Afterburn
The smell of sex and booze hit him as soon as he walked through the doors. He hadn't been here in a while, but the password never changed. The easiest way into Inferno was to name its creator.
From the outside the place looked like any other nightclub, but once you got inside it was like nothing Will had ever seen before. You could find anything and everything there. It was split into three levels, each with 3 "circles" of hell, all looking down on a huge dance floor in the center, lit red from underneath. The top level had an enclosed martini bar, a private cigar lounge, and several open banquettes. The second level included a private gambling room, the Fire bar and the tongue-in-cheek Hell's Kitchen.
The bottom level was by far the most crowded. Not only did it have another bar, but the entire back wall was lined with the stage where the burlesque dance show was performed. However, the most sought-after feature on the third level of Inferno was the private booths. Each of the 10 booths had their own bar and was curtained, but was backlit to allow outsiders to see silhouettes only. The last time he'd been here, he and Jenny snagged a private booth and he'd had his first experience with sex in public.
As he made his way down, he bumped into a stunning brunette in a devil costume.
"Sorry," he said as she slid past him, not spilling a drop from the tray she was carrying.
She winked and said, "Don't be sorry, sugar. I'm not." That was high praise, considering that she was a Lucie. The Lucies made up the wait and bar staff of the club and most of them danced in the show. They were of every color and nationality and were all exceptionally beautiful. He smiled as he pushed his way down the last spiral staircase to the third level.
After fighting through the throng of dancers he got to the bar and ordered a beer from the bartender, a blond with a innocent face but a body built for sin. She also gave him an appreciative look as he leaned against the bar and took a long swallow from the bottle. Beer was a luxury these days. After his arrest and rehab Francie watched him like a hawk. She even went so far as to keep him from working behind the bar at the restaurant. On the rare nights he did get away he had to make sure she didn't catch him with alcohol on his breath when he came home. He desperately wished he could tell her what was going on, about his job and about Syd. But it was too dangerous and he didn't want to risk her life too.
He was startled out of his thoughts by a woman across the dance floor. For a moment it seemed like the crowd parted and she was in his direct sight line. She had long, plum-colored hair that fell to the middle of her back. She was wearing a short red skirt that looked like it was made of some kind of shimmery liquid, with a tight black top and knee-high black high heeled boots that made her legs look impossibly long. She was standing in profile, but he could see her thick full lips, slick with gloss. Maybe his luck was about to change after all.
He pushed of the bar and began to head in her direction. Before he could get to her he was intercepted by two beautiful, but drunk, girls.
"Hey," the first one said, "come dance with us!"
"Yeah, you're cute," cooed the second.
Will smiled at them as he extracted his arm. "Sorry ladies, some other time." He spun his head, trying to find her again in the crowd. Finally he saw her, just as a dark-haired man snaked his arm around her waist and led her into one of the coveted booths. When the curtains shut a red light come on inside and the couple's shadows were thrown on the pulsing dance floor. A familiar sense of disappointment flooded him.
He was headed back to the bar to grab another beer when he noticed that the booth they were in was at the end of the row nearest to where the tables for the burlesque show were. If he sat at the furthest table he could see straight into the opening in the side of the curtains and still look like he was watching the stage show. Might as well watch while someone else gets the girl. That's something I do very well. he thought as he sat down at the table.
The light inside was bright enough for him to clearly see what was going on. They seemed to be talking quietly, but their hands were roving over each other's bodies, like they were memorizing every dip and curve. He must have said something funny because she threw her head back and laughed. Suddenly he pulled her to him, kissing her passionately. The passion between them was intense and he watched as the man disengaged from his lover's mouth and slowly kissed down the length of her neck and collarbone. Her throaty moan was audible and sent tingles straight down to Will's groin.
They shifted positions now, as the woman straddled his lap, her skirt riding up on her taut thighs. The man's hands were sliding under her shirt now, cupping her breasts. She brought her hands up and slowly unbuttoned the top to reveal she was wearing nothing underneath. He pulled the shirt off of her shoulders, catching one nipple between his teeth as she writhed in his lap. She pulled him into her chest and gave Will a full view of her smooth, supple spine. Will's erection was in full bloom, straining against his fly. He forced himself to stay in control as they moved again.
She was sitting now, head hanging back, her face a mask of ecstacy. She ran her hands lightly over her nipples and for a moment Will thought the man had gone. It was when he saw her stiffen and saw the man's head reappear near her waist that Will knew where he'd gone. He kissed her again, gathering her in his lap as they began the final act.
Again she sat astride him, kissing and touching, until it seemed the man could not stand to be apart from her one more second. She braced her hands on either side of his head as he adjusted and she deliberately sank back down into his lap. They were still for a what looked an eternity, and in a startling burst of movement their coupling became hard and fast, almost primal. Without warning, she slammed her mouth down on to his as they came to their joint climax. They disentangled themselves, and almost as soon as it had started it was over. He handed her the discarded top and kissed her as she adjusted it. He said something softly in her ear, and Will took his cue to move away before he was seen. He went back to the bar, hoping a drink would calm him for the long walk upstairs.
He was still watching the booth with his peripheral vision when the man emerged. At this distance Will could see his face and had the vague sense that it was familiar. That's when it hit him.
The man from the booth was Vaughn. Michael Vaughn. Sydney's Vaughn. Everything in him screamed to go after him, to confront him, something, but he couldn't. Not like this, in public, not knowing who was watching.
Will's heart ached for Sydney. The sweet, beautiful woman who had been betrayed again by a man she loved. Against his better judgement he went towards the booth. Sydney had a right to know who Vaughn was involved with. He pulled the curtain back and came face to face with her. Her head was still down, hair obstructing her face. He cleared his throat and she looked up.
"Sorry, I'm just....." The words trailed off as Sydney stared up at him, openmouthed. For a moment neither one of them spoke. The flush that colored her cheeks was rapidly draining and before she could stammer out an explanation, Will spoke.
"No, I'm sorry. I must have mistaken you for someone else," he said with a smile.
"Yeah," she said playing along, "I guess so." With a wink she swept out of the booth and past him, disappearing into the crowd.