Alyssa
Boredom, a crappy sex life, and fantasies some people would cringe at, can make a person do the wildest things. In my case, it's joining an exclusive sex club with the money my grandmother left me in her will. She told me to do something fun with it. What could be more fun than a sex club where I can explore the one fantasy I keep close to the vest? The problem is I ended up in a room with Oliver Hayers, one of the biggest hockey players to ever grace New York's presence. And I work for his team as a photographer.
Oliver
I've wanted Alyssa Walker since the first moment I laid eyes on her two years ago, but I stayed away. The things I was into felt too sinful, too dark to touch someone like her. But the moment she walked into the sex club I'm a part of wearing that green bracelet, I lost control. I tried to hide who I was, but in the end, I couldn't. Revealing myself was a mistake, but the cat is out of the bag now. I can give her what she wants, what she craves, but I need her in my bed at the end of the night. I need her to be mine.