In Too Deep, Book 2, Part 3

 [image: VitalikRadko]

Chapter 14: Mr. and Mrs. Downing

Exactly one week had passed since I’d last been here—one week since I’d been warned to stay away, that my actions were dangerous, that I was fucking their case up. Yet now, I’d been sent back in by those very people.

Griff, the bouncer, was working the front doors, and as I got out of the Uber, I felt terrified that he’d recognize me. It was irrational—guys came back here all the time. Still, as I approached him and my stomach crawled up my throat, I felt so transparent. Like he would say, “Here to gawk at your wife, cuck?” as he patted me down.

Instead, he didn’t show any recognition. Just a blank look as he ran his hands over me and then told me to head on inside.

It was surprisingly busy for a Wednesday night. Both stages were open, and more than half the chairs and tables were full. I forced myself to breathe. I needed to take my pulse down a notch. It was fine. This was all part of the plan. I settled into a chair close to the stage. A redhead was doing a routine, her athletic body twisting and turning on the poll, and I wondered if she was the one Brandon and Javier had spent the weekend with. A blonde in a tiny, black cocktail dress took my drink order, and I wondered if she blew the manager to get the job here, or if she was one who refused. I looked around, and the questions followed.

“Dance?” a woman asked. She had a slight, Southern twang in her voice, and when I looked up at her, I recognized her, but couldn’t immediately place her.

Which, in the context of what I was doing, was fucking terrifying.

Like every other dancer in this place, though, she was stunning. She had sable hair and long bangs that were brushed just out of her dark eyes, a doll-like face that was heavily made up, and a body more voluptuous than Amanda’s—accentuated even more by the gossamer babydoll that squeezed her tits into a shelf.

When I finally was able to dig my gaze out of her cleavage, I saw her smiling down at me. “You can keep looking. Happy to give you a closer look.”

I licked my lips, and she added, “And if you want an extra special look at ‘em, I’m happy to take you into the back for a private dance.”

I fought back the urge to refuse and tell her I’m good just to watch. But that was David talking, and right now, I wasn’t David.

“Let’s just start with a dance out here.” I withdrew a twenty from my wallet, but she didn’t take it from me. Instead, she slipped into my lap, put an arm around my shoulders, and pulled the side of her thong out for me to slip the bill in. She also flashed me a glimpse of her pussy, and the little tab of dark hair above it.

I was proud when my hand didn’t shake as I slipped the twenty in and she snapped her panties in place.

“I’m Misty. What’s yours, honey?”

I recognized her then. She’d danced with Javier when we were in here last week. She’d gone into the back with the Asian stripper to put on a lesbian show for them.

I was supposed to give her my alias’s name, but now I wasn’t so sure. What if she remembered me? What if I have myself up?

Before I could answer, though, someone else answered for me.

“Davey, so sorry I’m late. Got caught up in traffic.”

I looked up, and there was my most unlikely savior. She slipped into the cushioned seat beside me, put a hand on my knee, and kissed me on the lips. It was Julia.

This was damage control, Julia had explained. It was time to establish a cover identity, which was apparently ‘Davey Downing,’ husband to ‘Gillian’, an alias that she’d been developing in parallel with Amanda’s Raven.

My fake wife smiled at Misty. “Hi there. I’m Davey’s wife, Gillian, and you are gorgeous.”

Misty looked at me slyly. “You should have told me your wife was joining us. I love it when other women come in here.”

Julia had transformed. Gone was the badass femme fatale who’d scooped me up. Tonight, she was dressed to party in a short, tight, low-scooped silver sequined dress that left very little to the imagination. Her tits spilled out of the top and her legs looked endless. She could almost pass for a dancer here, especially with her hair half up, the rest coiling down around her shoulders.

She looked at me with her smoky eyes, placed a hand on my arm, and said, “Not that I’m going to hold it against you. I’d be distracted, too.”

The women’s eyes met, and suddenly a different kind of nervousness was fluttering through my veins.

“Your wife is pretty.” Misty said it looking right at Julia, and I had to agree.

“She’s very pretty.”

“This isn’t your first time at a gentlemen’s club together, is it?”

“We like spicing things up,” Julia said. “Davey here likes… watching. Don’t you, Davey.”

“Bit of a voyeur,” said Misty, stroking my arm. “I haven’t started my dance. I could dance for your wife, if you’d prefer.”

I glanced at “Gillian,” who didn’t look the least bit put off by it. “That would be great,” I said.

Misty flowed out of my lap and straddled Julia’s. She said, “I’ll start, but first, you need a drink.”

The music over the PA shifted away from the more traditional strip club rock to a spicy Latin beat. The DJ announced the next set of dancers. “Let’s give it up for two of your favorites: Selena and Raven, dancing the forbidden dance.”

My heart skipped. I’d just seen Amanda earlier that day, and yet it still felt like an eternity. I watched the stage in anticipation, and I wasn’t alone.

The curtains slid open, and out spun two dancers, arms embraced, doing some sexy approximation of the tango. My wife took on the role of the man—her dark hair was tied back into a tight bun, and she wore a dark suit jacket, crisp white button up, and thin, black tie. Her pants, however, were tight and short and would have been very inappropriate in the clubs of Argentina.

Selena, her dance partner, was a sexy Latina who wore a flouncy, red dress that seemed designed to flip and flare as Amanda spun her across the stage, flashing the audience with her matching, red thong.

“This set is good,” Misty said, watching the sexy tango choreography. “Those two are so sexy together.”

The dance up on stage progressed. I had no idea Amanda knew how to tango. Seemed like there were still a lot of things about her that I didn’t know.

Both women had painted their lips bright red, and as they moved, spun, dipped, and danced, those lips usually remained within inches—a kiss that just didn’t quite resolve.

They stripped, of course. Amanda’s jacket went first, revealing that her white shirt beneath was entirely backless. Selena’s red dress went next, fluttering to the floor, leaving her in that red thong and a tasseled bra. In a flurry, she ripped the tie from Amanda’s shirt—a clip on—as Amanda freed her dark hair from her bun.

Misty had flagged a cocktail waitress down and Julia ordered a Citron and Seven.

I was barely able to focus on them, even though I knew I needed to. Julia was my wife, after all.

“Start a tab?” the waitress asked me. 

“Uh, sure.” I had my wallet out, reaching for my credit card when Julia stopped me. She said, “Let me treat, Davey.”

My credit card, I realized, had my real name on it. It peeked out, gold and embossed—David Hume—before I slid it back in. When she gathered her purse and retrieved her own card, I caught her alias on it—”Gillian Downing.” Made me feel like a total amateur, which, to be fair, I was.

“Keep it going,” she said. “Bring Davey an IPA, and Misty here…” She raised a brow at the stripper.

Misty said, “An appletini. And thank you, Gillian. You’re sweet.”

“You see, Davey?” Julia said to me. “Someone thinks I’m sweet.”

The stripper laughed and asked, “So how long y’all been married?”

I deferred to the spy on this one. Julia said, “Two years this October.”

“Ah, newlyweds still.”

Julia giggled. She was so good at falling into this role. She said, “Trying to keep it that way, aren’t we, Davey?”

I smiled weakly at her. “Trying.”

On stage, the music peaked and the DJ seamlessly transitioned it into another beat, going from spicy tango to funky hip hop. Amanda and Selena, too, changed their style. With a final flourish that ended with Amanda’s white button-down coming off, freeing her tits, the two moved into a bump-and-grind. Selena became the more dominant, backing Amanda up against the poll. 

This time, their red painted lips didn’t just hover. Selena closed the deal, kissing Amanda. I gasped. This wasn’t just a peck on the lips. It was a full on, tongues out, French kiss. With another woman. And the whole time, their bodies kept moving to the beat, legs entwined, pussies against thighs. 

This was the other reason I was here. To watch Amanda, and for Amanda to see me watching.

Misty saw me looking. “Sexy, aren’t they?”

“Davey had a thing for Raven. Talks about her all the time, back home.”

Julia had explained it to me before we came here: if I wasn’t going to hide it, own it. 

On stage, breaking from the kiss, the two women shifted focus to their audience. Selena faced out as Amanda unsnapped her bra. She had nice, perky tits capped with small, dark nipples. 

“Well, there’s a version of this, exclusive to the back room, where Ray wears a strap-on. VIP only.” She wiggled in Julia’s lap. “They love to ‘practice’ that, too.”

Selena reached back and behind her, pulling Amanda into an over-the-shoulder kiss as Amanda pinched Selena’s nipples.

“Watching those too is making me wet as fuck,” Misty said. “Ready for your dance? I need to rub on a hot chick.”

Julia laughed. Her drink arrived and she chugged it like she was nervous. I was pretty sure she was just playing. Misty found the bass of the current song, and in the strobe and flash of the dark interior of the club, the sight of these two women was mesmerizing. I didn’t like Julia. I didn’t know Misty. It didn’t matter. This was hypnotic.

Misty turned away from Julia, her legs on either side of my fake wife’s, her chest thrust forward. Julia couldn’t keep her hands off the stripper, despite the club’s rules. She ran her fingers up Misty’s spine. Misty shuddered.

“My husband has a thing for brunettes with big tits. Don’t you, baby?” Julia said. With a twist, she undid Misty’s babydoll. Misty’s tits, like Amanda’s, were just a touch too big for her slim body. “It’s okay,” said Julia. ”I’ve got a thing for them, too.”

Misty gyrated in Julia’s lap, flipping her long, dark hair back. I’d watched Amanda do this to another man from across the room. I’d watched her look back, a smile of promise and temptation for her customer.

“Does it turn you on?” Misty asked. “Knowing how much your wife likes other women?”

If she only knew… Behind her, Julia smirked at the unintended double entendre.

“Oh, he loves the idea of his wife exploring her bisexual side.”

My chest tightened. I glanced towards the stage, unable to help myself. Amanda’s booty shorts were gone. She wore only her heels and a g-string, which was stretched as the other stripper moved her fingers inside of it. The audience was eating it up.

“She’s very naughty, you know.” Julia’s words pulled me back to the show right in front of me. Like what was going on up on stage, the secret agent had slipped a hand inside Misty’s thong before she could stop it. “Turns out, she loves eating pussy as much as sucking cock.”

Misty bucked once at Julia’s expert touch before recovering and remembering where she was, and what the rules were. She didn’t chide my fake wife, but swiveled once again to face Julia, this time pressing her knee between the blonde’s thighs.

“You are naughty,” Misty said a moment before leaning in and kissing her softly on the mouth. “Get your husband to pay for a private dance and we could do it all.”

Julia looked at me. “What do you say, hubby?” she asked. “Want to watch us fool around? I’ll even suck your cock while I ride her face.”

I just glared at her, shaking my head as Misty finished up her lapdance. Amanda and Selena finished up their set, too, although I was proud to keep my attention—mostly—on Julia as the two had pseudo sex before my very eyes.

As Misty got up to leave, she didn’t bother putting her top back on. Instead, she leaned close to me and whispered, “I get off in an hour. Stick around and I’ll fuck your wife for free. For you, I’ll give you a nice discount.”

I watched her leave, distracted by her swaying ass until Julia slipped into my lap. She was warm and smelled fruity. Her golden hoop earrings tickled my neck as she leaned close and whispered, “What do you think? Take her up on the offer?”

Amanda and Selena descended the stage, to great fanfare. “Give it up for Raven and Selena!” the MC announced. The crowd cheered and whistled.

The two proved very popular, getting called over by several groups before they could even make it all the way through the VIP section to the dressing room. They stopped before an older guy—a silver spoon type used to getting things that he wanted. He was there with a trophy wife, who looked slightly out of her comfort zone as she sipped at her cocktail. Amanda exchanged some quick banter with him—still wearing only her g-string, and not ashamed at all—then a few words with the other stripper before they moved on.

Another man was in the far back, leaning against the passage that headed into the dressing rooms. Arms crossed, impeccably dressed and exuding confidence, this had to be the boss. I’d seen him before, the last two times. Broad shoulders, a narrow waist, thick, wavy salt-and-pepper hair and an impressive beard, he looked like the kind of guy with confidence bred from money. This was the man currently fucking my wife. He was tall and distinguished, late forties or early fifties maybe. 

Watching him interact with Amanda confirmed it. They smiled at one another as she sidled up, something unspoken passing between them in a way that didn’t happen with Selena. My gut churned, angst and envy roiling my insides. 

She didn’t kiss him. There were no obvious personal displays of affection. But the way she touched his arm as she passed was enough.

“I think she’s back,” Julia whispered. “And I can feel how hard that makes you.”

I didn’t say anything. Just watched the stage, trying to keep myself from getting all tangled up in my own thoughts. Dancers came by, offering to give us dances. I politely declined. A few minutes later, Julia whispered, “Okay, looks like something interesting is happening over there.”

I followed her eyes. Amanda was back out, as was Selena. They were once again dressed to tango. Amanda took the lead, speaking with the moneyed customer from earlier, who looked thrilled that she was back. A moment later, the couple rose. Selena linked her arm in the man’s, while Amanda guided his girlfriend or wife towards the back.

“Think the strapon will be present?”

“Uhh…”

“Look at him,” she said, speaking of the man with the beard. “He’s as smitten as you.” She nuzzled my neck. “He’s got that particular room wired. He’s like you, a total voyeur. Maybe that’s why she gets on with him so well.”

“I’m not like him.”

“Well, you’re not a drug lord, but let’s not paint everything with a large brush.”

He was a drug lord? That was a new piece of information.

Julia continued to mess with me, seemingly without realizing what she’d given up. “You at least have similar tastes in women.”

“Big-titted brunettes?” I said, repeating her own observation earlier.

Julia laughed. “Was going to say intelligent, strong-willed women with a hidden slutty side, but your description also works.” She put an arm around me, like we were a real couple. “You know we have access to that room’s recordings, too. We can even watch tonight’s performance.”

I licked my lips. My heart went wild. “So many questions. Isn’t that a bad idea? Also, not sure it’s legal—”

“I forgot, you’re a lawyer.” She kissed my nose. “I also forget how naive you can be. We do it to protect her, and also, maybe, learn a few things about the case. But don’t worry, none of it will end up in her file. We’ll destroy it all when we wrap the case up. Can’t have that sort of thing floating around.”

“I see.” I sort of did. I also only sort of heard her talking. I was watching the club boss slip out of the room, no doubt heading somewhere private to watch. “Can we go now?”

Julia looked at her watch. “Let me settle our tab. You wait right here, hubby.”

She got up. I stayed sitting, watching the stage and the current stripper without actually seeing any of it. My mind was on what was happening in the backroom. Was it just a show? Was it so much more?

Julia came back and guided me out of the club like I was an invalid. “Some night, huh?”

I just grunted.

Out on the street, I was shocked to see Misty standing there, now wearing a tight black dress, chatting with the bouncer. When she saw us, she lit up. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Griff,” she said. To Julia: “All set?”

“What…?” I licked my lips, biting back the question that I knew I couldn’t ask.

“I made a little arrangement when I settled the tab,” Julia said. “The problem with strip clubs is that they’re all tease, no action.”

Misty looked at me. “You ready for some action?”

I was acutely aware of Griff’s eyes on me, watching this whole exchange. Could I really do this? Did Amanda know about this setup?

“He’s so cute,” Misty said to Julia.

“He always gets like this when I bring home a hot chick.”

A car rolled up, and the valet handed the keys to Julia. “Ms. Downing,” he said. She slipped him a bill, and then slipped into the front seat.

“Feel free to get in the back, you two. Don’t worry, Davey dear. We’re all good.”

I gulped, feeling numb… and turned on as hell. “Okay.” Feeling like I was being abducted, I got into the car, with Misty right behind me. “Gillian, I’m not so sure about this…”

Julia pulled away from the curb. She met my eyes in the rearview mirror, then looked at Misty. “Well, at least he used my alias’s name.”

“He did really well,” Misty said. “Probably a little too obsessed with Raven, but at least that’s consistent.”

“What’s…” I was so thrown off. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, right. David, meet Agent Mia Moore. Mia, you know David.”

“Agent?”

“He’s normally a little smarter than this,” Julia said. “A little…”

“He’s just shell-shocked,” Misty/Mia said. “Unless he’s disappointed that we’re not going to have a threesome.”

“Hmm…” Julia said. “That it, David? Mia might be game, and I’m definitely horny as hell.”

“No! No, no. That’s not it. Just… what’s going on?”

“What? You didn’t think we just put one busty brunette agent inside, on the off-chance that our mark picked her, did you? We needed to stack the deck a little.”

“Your wife did what I couldn’t. She caught his eye.”

“And his dick,” Julia said.

“Julia!” Mia said. “Not very appropriate to talk about the man’s wife like that—”

“Relax. He’s into it. Aren’t you, David?”

I wasn’t answering that. “So you were in on it the whole time?”

“I was in earlier than Amanda, but couldn’t quite make the impression.” She glanced at her reflection in the car’s window. “Have to say, as assignments go, it’s been pretty fucking hot.” Our eyes met in the reflection. “But then, I don’t have a husband at home.”

“Mia, could you put the hood on his head?” Julia asked.

Mia sighed. 

“Wha—?”

I started to question what they meant by that when a black sack was thrown over my face. Suddenly, I saw only darkness.

End of Part 3. Part 4 releases Friday.