Chapter 8
Chapter 8
Dexter
Mixer parties. I loved them and it had been a while since Harry had organised one. It wasn’t one of
those parties where people had sex with other people and by the end of the night everyone joined
together in one big orgy. I wasn’t into shit like that, and I didn’t like myself in social situations. The aim
of the mixer party was to bring together men and women who were single, but were only looking for no-
strings-attached sex.
It was the best place to pick up the right women. I was done with Internet dating sites. I met women
online that lied about everything: their age, height, their relationship status, the colour of their hair and
their whole life in general. Sometimes I managed to find a few that only wanted sex, but most of them
expected more from me. Always fucking more.
Harry was a banking investor. He bought a penthouse from me on the other wing last year. We got on
pretty well and when I told him about the mixer party that I went to couple of years ago, he seemed
intrigued. I didn’t have many friends at the time, but Harry became one of them. He was single, affluent,
and he didn’t have to worry about his reputation amongst the other residents, so he decided to
organise a similar thing.
A month later I received an invitation for a “Private Party” as he called it. He brought together over thirty
single men and women and provided the food and entertainment, but that was just the beginning. The
rules were simple. No couples were allowed and only certain select people were chosen. I had to make
sure that no other resident in the building knew about what I was involved in.
Harry used his contacts to attract men and women from the local area who enjoyed uninhibited sex.
Laura and Penny had come from the “Private Party.” They knew exactly what I was looking for. Women
filled my evenings and I had a gift for attracting them naturally.
Sasha’s note on her balcony door made me furious. For a moment I was ready to smash her windows,
but I thought better of it. I went back inside, thinking about ways of getting back at her. It was clear that
she wasn’t planning to sleep with me, so I had to change my game. She was ready to go to war with
me over her stupid apartment.
I didn’t think that she was a prude and I knew for a fact that she didn’t have a boyfriend. The solution
was simple: the mixer party. I asked Harry to send her an invitation. We both avoided attracting the
attention of the residents, although at this point I was willing to risk anything to have Sasha in my bed.
Harry agreed and the invitation was left outside her door on Thursday evening. When I left for a
meeting on Friday morning, the envelope was gone, so I knew that she must have read it. I smiled to
myself and left to make another costly investment with one of my clients.
I drank half a bottle of whiskey last night, but the alcohol wasn’t making much difference in my sleeping
pattern. I still woke up at four this morning. My thoughts were racing and I was certain that Sasha had
something to do with it. I couldn’t fucking stop thinking about her.
I felt like I was walking in a thick, never-ending mist. The heaviness on my chest hadn’t gone away.
Each fucking day was a struggle. Thoughts about Pap kept invading my mind.
Maybe Mum was right; maybe it was time to see the doctor. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I
was fit, ate well, but I felt empty. I was never tired. For some reason I always wanted to do stuff—and
have sex. Yeah, the sex was never boring.
On Saturday at six a.m. I went to the gym and worked out for an hour. On the way to my apartment I
caught the lift. The doors were just about to close. When I slid inside I couldn’t fucking believe it. Barbie
was there, scrolling through her phone. She hadn’t noticed me yet.
She must have just finished her shift, because she was still in her sexy nurse’s uniform. Her blond hair
was tied up in a messy knot. Fuck me, she was so cute I was already imagining her playing naughty
nurse with me.
“You know, I did enjoy your little note,” I said, startling her. She lifted her eyes at me and inhaled
sharply.
“What, are you stalking me now?” she asked.
“I’m in the fucking lift, Barbie. Don’t be stupid.”
“Ha, funny. I told you, stop messing with me. You don’t want me as your enemy,” she snapped and
went back to looking at her phone, ignoring me. She was more stubborn than me and for some reason
I liked that about her. When the lift stopped on our floor, I wasn’t done with her yet. I had to know if she
was going to show up at the mixer party tonight.
When she stepped forward I blocked the door.
“I jerked off last night thinking about your wet pussy,” I said. Okay, sometimes I talked like a fucking
horny teenager, but right now was all about pressing her angry hot buttons. This party would give me a
chance to show her what she was missing out on.
“Get out of my way, fuckface. I’m tired,” she said, looking more pissed than usual.
“Private Party, you got an invite, right? You have been selected, Barbie,” I threw it out there watching to
see how she would react.
“I don’t do swing parties, asshole. I can meet people in a civilised way. Now get out of my way.”
“You’re afraid of what might happen when you get cornered by me at the party,” I teased her, knowing
that she liked being challenged. She bit her lip and my cock twitched. Fuck, I was getting hard again
imagining what those lips wrapped around my throbbing dick would feel like.
“You will see exactly what happens tonight when I have other men around me. Apparently I can pick up
men up there for sex. Well, you can watch me around others, knowing that you will never have me,”
she said, then pushed me aside and strutted out of the lift.
Sasha
I hurried away before I dropped myself into more crap. Why did I have to say that I was going? I wasn’t
even thinking about it when I got the invitation. There was no return address or the name of who sent it.
The instructions simply stated that I had to be outside Apartment 30 at eight o’clock sharp.
It was the perfect opportunity to show Dexter that I could do better than him. I needed to have sex and
he had challenged me yet again. These days nothing scared me. Yes, for nine months I allowed myself
to be a prisoner of my past, but I was done with hiding. Dexter was going to be there and I wanted to
piss him off by talking and flirting with other men.
Today’s shift was exhausting and I had to get some sleep, at least until late afternoon. The invitation
stated that I needed to wear something sexy. The food and drinks were provided.
I had a gut feeling that I was making a big mistake, but I couldn’t let him beat me with whatever game
he was playing. Half an hour later, I was stripped to my pyjamas and cuddled in my comfortable sheets.
All Joey’s stuff was packed away in boxes. I’d emptied out the other bedroom. He owned a lot of
expensive electronics. Mum wanted to get rid of this place, but this whole thing was going to take time.
I had to either sleep with Dexter or ask him for help, and that wasn’t going to happen.
I fell asleep pretty much straight away. Several hours later, when the clock showed four in the
afternoon, I felt rested. Last night I was running up and down around the ward. A lot of children couldn’t
settle into sleep, so I spent all night watching them.
After a quick shower I threw some clothes on and opened the balcony doors to let some fresh air
through. The terrace was empty and I exhaled with relief that Dexter wasn’t there to annoy me. He’d
surprised me again, being up at six on Saturday morning. He looked so good in a T-shirt and
sweatpants.
After I puttered around the house, I made a quick, late lunch and ate it on the terrace. I had no idea if
he was inside or not; his balcony doors were shut. The sea was calm today, so after I polished off my
meal, I went down and walked around on the coast, trying to prepare myself mentally for tonight’s party.
Two hours later, I was back in my bedroom, picking out an outfit. Sexy? God yes, I needed to get laid,
but the only person that I wanted was Dexter and he was off limits.
I went for a body-hugging, silky black dress that showed off my body and emphasised my boobs and
my long legs. After almost three and a half weeks in pole-dancing training, my body was firm and nicely
toned. I felt good in my skin. I decided to curl my blond hair, then added heavy eyeliner to my eyes and
put on red lipstick.
When I looked at my reflection in the mirror I felt sexy as hell. It had been a while since I went out
anywhere looking like this. The questions in my head remained. Was I willing to push my boundaries
enough to have sex with a complete stranger? In the past few weeks Alistair, one of the male nurses
that I worked with, kept asking me out on a date. He was cute, but I promised myself I didn’t need
another man in my life. Dating and relationships terrified me. Alistair was pretty funny; not quite
physically the type that I would go for, but he actually made me laugh. So far I kept turning him down.
I didn’t sleep around, but I also wasn’t the same weak woman I was.
I sprayed on my favourite Dior perfume and took a few deep breaths, feeling ready for the party. I had
no idea where Apartment 30 was, so I went to the concierge for directions.
My stomach was churning when I knocked. A handsome man who appeared to be in his late twenties
opened the door. He was wearing an expensive-looking suit and had a glass of champagne in his
hand. His piercing blue eyes seemed to acknowledge me instantly. Maybe Dexter already told him that
I would show up.
“I see that you got the invitation,” he said and stepped away to let me through. My legs were like jelly,
but the sound of his voice was comforting. Soft music played in the background; men and women
gathered around in a stylish living room talking. In the middle of the room by the terrace, there was a
pole. My heart hitched in my throat. Of course, the pole fit perfectly into the sexy, slightly deviant
atmosphere.
“Yes, I did. I’m not sure why,” I mumbled, suddenly feeling like I didn’t belong here.
“I’m Harry, the host,” he introduced himself.
Then he began going over the rules, which were pretty straightforward. Everyone here was single and
available for sex. Harry mentioned that people used this party to get to know each other and exchange
contacts, not to have sex straight away.
“You seem nervous. Come on, let me get you a drink, Sasha,” he said and pressed his palm over my
lower back as he led me towards the kitchen. My stomach was in knots.
This wasn’t at all how it was supposed to turn out when I inherited Uncle Joey’s apartment.
Harry broke my train of uncomfortable thoughts and handed me a glass of champagne. He was very
confident, but he didn’t make me feel uncomfortable. This content provided by N(o)velDrama].[Org.
“Thank you, I think I need that,” I said.
“Okay, let me introduce you to a few people.”
“No need, Harry. She knows me and I’m the only person that she is going to fuck tonight,” said the
familiar sexy voice behind me that sent a shiver through me.
Dexter. He was already there.