“This is my favorite show,” I’d told her.
“Which character do you think you’re most like?” she’d asked.
“Charlotte.”
“Really?” She sounded surprised.
I nodded, thinking about the fantasy club. My interest was piqued, and I wanted to know more. I’d always been the good girl, and the idea of doing something naughty, but also being in control, was tempting.
“But for one night, I’d like to be Samantha.”
“Samantha it is,” she cheered. Then she reached over, grabbed my hand, and said, “Don’t worry, Makayla. I’ve got you.”
And though my head was swimming with a gallon of alcohol, I knew she meant it.
“Veil is by appointment only.” Heather’s voice pierces through my thoughts as she eases through the gate and up the tree-lined driveway. “You must call Desiree to schedule so she can arrange it with your fantasy guide.”
“Is she the owner?”
“No, but she runs the place.”
“Do you know who owns it?”
“Just that it’s a man. He’s anonymous.”
“Hmm.” I turn to look out the passenger window.
Heather reaches over, resting her hand on top of mine. “It’s just an application. You can change your mind anytime.”
A large white mansion comes into view. It has a French chateau vibe with windows lining both the top and bottom floors, accented with Juliet balconies. A fountain fills the center of a circular driveway surrounded by lush landscaping and trees.
“This is Veil?” I ask in awe.
“It is.” Heather nods as she parks her convertible BMW in the driveway.
I slide out of the passenger seat and tilt my head, taking in the massive structure.
Heather leads the way up the four short steps to the glass-and-iron door, and rings the doorbell.
“Do people sleep here?”
“I imagine some do. Think of it as a fantastical bed-and-breakfast,” she adds with a laugh.
The door swings open, revealing a tall, gorgeous woman standing in the doorway. She’s wearing a cream-colored blouse tucked into a pair of black fitted dress pants. Her black hair is parted down the middle and cut into a blunt bob. Her pouty lips, painted a bright red, stretch across her pretty face in a friendly smile.
“You must be Makayla. I’m Desiree.” She holds out a hand and her long, slender fingers curl around mine. “Welcome to Veil.”
The only way to describe Veil is like something out of a movie. The house is pristine, and everything is a creamy white with a little black added in here and there. A large crystal chandelier hangs in the grand foyer between two sweeping staircases leading to the second floor.
Heather tells me she’ll see me later before she slips through the double doors between the staircases. Desiree leads me into the living room and gestures for me to have a seat on the white sofa, then sits in one of the black accent chairs, hands clasped in her lap.
Although it’s just Desiree and me, I feel a prickle of awareness on the back of my neck as though I’m being watched. I take one quick scan around the room and just chalk it up to nerves.
“So, why are you interested in Veil?”
“I need a sexorcism,” I deadpan.
“A what?” Desiree asks through a soft laugh.
“Stupid joke.” I wave it off. “Sorry. I’m nervous.” I shift back on the sofa and cross my legs. “I just recently got out of a relationship with someone. Uh… I… I’m not really that experienced sexually.” My cheeks heat with embarrassment.
“You’d be surprised by what you discover about yourself and your body with the right partner.”
My stomach sours at the memory of Victor’s face just inches away from mine when he spewed those ugly words, “You said you wanted the man you fell in love with. This is that man.”
“Let’s start with what you don’t like,” she continues.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her that I don’t like having a cock shoved down my throat to the point I can’t breathe, but I’m here for a fantasy, not therapy.
“I like sex. It’s just Vic—my ex, he liked to control everything in and out of the bedroom.” Desiree frowns and tilts her head, and I continue. “Before him, I’d only had sex with two guys. My sexual experience basically went from awkward to… confused.”
She leans over, picks up a leather folder from the coffee table, and flips it open to reveal a blank notepad. “Let’s start with some simple questions about sex? Oral. Vaginal. Anal….”
A hot flush spreads over my chest, neck, and cheeks. “Oral and vaginal are good. Can we revisit the other another time?”
“Of course.” She grins, then continues going over her list of questions. By the time she’s finished, my face is on fire.
While giving me a tour of the house, Desiree goes over the application process, including the various tests and screenings Heather previously mentioned.
Keeping with the décor of the house, the upstairs hallway is white and lined with shiny black doors. Desiree opens the first door on the right, and I follow her inside the empty bedroom.
“Wow,” I whisper, turning in a circle.
The walls are black, and the floor-to-ceiling windows are flanked by long cream-colored silk drapes. A large chandelier hangs over a king-sized bed covered in crisp white bedding. The bed sits atop a black shag rug, situated between two shiny black nightstands topped with crystal lamps. The black silk tufted headboard is high, and a matching bench sits at the foot.
I move to stand in front of the oversized floor-length mirror fixed to the wall. A chill runs down my spine, and once again I get the feeling someone is watching me. Maybe someone is. I scan the corners of the room, looking for cameras, but I don’t see any.
“Do you live here?” I ask.
“Mostly.”
“You must get lonely in this big house by yourself.”
“I’m never lonely.” She winks before leading us back to the door.
Stepping into the hallway, I notice a skinnier door beside each bedroom door, like a storage closet, and I can’t help but wonder what kind
