by Jodi Redford
“Then you are one of the few of your kind to think so.”
He volleyed Francesca’s anger with a smile capable of charming the panties off the strongest willed of women. Avily knew its power all too well. “Well, I am one of a kind,” he said, no trace of modesty in his tone.
“Yes, you are.” Francesca’s considering gaze sharpened and panned between Jerrick and Avily. “Both of you.”
Avily expected the woman to say something more, but Francesca motioned for them to follow her back to the elevator. The moment the conveyance’s doors closed on the spectacle of the Lust Ballroom, Avily mentally exhaled a silent sigh of relief. Her reprieve was short-lived. But instead of more sexual extravagance, she was faced with a new wave of Francesca’s suspicion.
“How is it that you two met? Madam Love failed to supply me with that information.”
Avily racked her brain, trying to latch on to the story that went along with hers and Jerrick’s aliases. Damn it, she’d been ready for this. What the hell happened in the last two minutes to make her forget everything?
The damn orgy ballroom, that’s what. Seeing that many naked bodies in one place was bound to rattle anyone’s brain.
“If my Mistress will allow me?” Jerrick asked softly, cutting through her panic.
Resisting the urge to toss her arms around him and smother his face in grateful kisses, she nodded.
“I was originally a Dom myself. Thought I would be until the day I died. Then one night Mistress Scarlett walked into my club and sent my entire world tilting on its axis.” A husky undercurrent lent a rough edge to Jerrick’s voice. Mesmerized, Avily had no option but to return the intimacy of his stare. He brushed his fingertips over her cheek. “My life changed the second she entered it. In her eyes, I see the person I can only wish to be.”
Emotion welled in her throat…made her eyes sting with the tears she dared not give in to. His words were meant to appease Francesca’s mistrust, but there was also a brutal honesty to them that flavored his speech with bittersweetness.
“So you’re a switch. Interesting. Not many can do it, much less a fae.” Francesca transferred her scrutiny to Avily. “It’s a miraculous thing, you collaring him. I admit to being envious of the skill you obviously must possess as a mistress. We will have to compare notes sometime on our methods.” Francesca rubbed her upper lip absently, the enormous diamond banded to her finger nearly blinding Avily with its gaudy dazzle. “Tomorrow night I’m hosting an intimate gathering for a few of the regulars. I would like you both to come.”
It took a moment to realize Francesca had issued them an open invitation for membership to her club. Feeling like she’d passed the toughest exam in existence, Avily blinked at the other woman. “Thank you. We’d be honored.”
“I assure you the pleasure will be all mine.”
The crafty, devilish curve of Francesca’s smile tripped warning bells in Avily’s head.
Oh gods. What kind of crazy sex party had she just agreed to? That worrisome thought remained paramount right up until the elevator lurched to a stop. The image of naked bodies and orgies still tumbling through her brain, Avily shuffled through the doors—and collided with the individual striding down the hall.
A hand steadied her.
“Someone needs to lock me up before I hurt someone.” Struggling to straighten her eyeglasses, she grimaced and shot an apologetic glance upward.
Her gaze crashed into Thane’s.
In slow motion, she watched his eyes widen in recognition and shock—no doubt a mirror duplicate of her own expression. He opened his mouth, but it was her assessment of the looming disaster that beat him to the punch line.
“Oh. Shit.”
Chapter Seventeen
Bloody. Hell. When he’d warned Avi to be prepared for anything that might be thrown at them, he hadn’t anticipated a colossal clusterfuck like this.
Thinking fast, Jerrick sidled next to Avi. Praying Francesca would take his fierce countenance for protective instinct, he grasped Avi’s shoulder and aimed a hard look at Thane. “Mistress Scarlett, is this man disturbing you? Shall I break his kneecaps?” Hell, it was worth a damn shot.
Thane raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking.
Avily shook from such an excess of nervous tension, Jerrick swore she’d chatter her teeth straight out of her mouth. “N-no. Absolutely not, sub Bill. This man shouldn’t pay the price for my clumsiness.”
“Are you okay?” Francesca demanded, concern etched into her porcelain features.
Avily waved a hand dismissively. Another man strode toward them, nabbing Francesca’s attention with a discreet nod. Excusing herself, she crossed the room and spoke in a low tone with the gentleman.
Taking advantage of their few stolen seconds of privacy, Jerrick dropped his voice to a deadly whisper directed at Thane. “You will pretend to have never met us. Is that clear?”
“Seeing how I don’t relish those broken kneecaps—crystal.”
“Good.”
The soft swish of silk and the exotic essence of moonflower marked Francesca’s approach. “Apologies. My manager sometimes forgets it’s his job to take care of trivial operation matters.” She shifted her focus to Avily. “Please allow me to introduce you to Mr. Thane Pearce. He’s appraising my art collection.”
Thane took Avily’s hand in his and lifted it to his lips. “A pleasure to meet you, Mistress.”
Jerrick eyed the mouth glued to Avily’s knuckles, his own knuckles itching to relocate Thane’s nose. The man turned his attention to Jerrick, his eyes sparkling. “Likewise to you, sub Bill.”
He was permanently banning that damn name from his list of aliases.
“I was giving Mistress Scarlett and her sub a tour of the club. Perhaps you would like to join us, Mr. Pearce?”
Damn it. Jerrick struggled to cage his growl.
“I would love that. And please, call me Thane.” The man’s wolfish smile grated on Jerrick.
With Francesca marshaling their odd little entourage, they headed toward the far corridor. The going was slow since every few feet Thane would halt their journey so he could wax poetic over the various rare and valuable antiquities scattered throughout the nooks and crannies of the mansion. Despite his annoyance at the man’s irksome presence, Jerrick couldn’t help his grudging admiration at Thane’s vast knowledge of the Artur’ak period. It almost rivaled Dash’s.
He still longed to break Thane’s kneecaps though. Especially since the asshole had an annoying habit of touching Avi. After the millionth offense, Jerrick took matters into his own hands by insinuating himself between Thane and Avi. Judging from the man’s smirk, he knew he was one grope away from a beat down.
Francesca continued to drone on, clueless of the potential bloodshed endangering her precious Artur’ak runners. “The rooms at the far end are reserved for privacy, so sadly our tour will go no further on this floor. But viewing pleasure is still plentiful and at the ready.” She pressed a button recessed in the wall, and the paneled sections retracted toward the ceiling, revealing a glass-enclosed room. A man in leather breeches sat in a high-backed armchair, the only furniture in the room. His head was tilted against the cushioned neck rest, his strained features awash in ecstasy—probably courtesy of the brunette with the skillful mouth bobbing on his cock.
Jerrick watched the saliva-slickened path of the woman’s tongue, his own cock thickening at the remembrance of Avily’s teasing maneuver last night. Even with the leather of his pants between them, it’d still been one of the most erotic experiences of his life, feeling her tongue lick his rigid length. Which spoke volumes concerning her effect on him. He was no inexperienced youth with only a handful of blow jobs under his belt. But one look at her pink tongue caressing along his zipper and he’d nearly come in his damn pants.
God knows what a cleaning disaster that would have been.
A quickened intake of breath drew his focus to Avi. She too was staring at the amorous couple, her cheeks flushed and h
er cleavage speckled with sweat. There was no denying her excitement and arousal.
For a Maddoc fae—a species whose very magic was ruled and empowered by sex—her lustful reaction was an enticing incantation from the gods themselves. For Jerrick, she was a maddening torment. He shook with the desire to push her against the glass and bury himself balls-deep inside her, virginity and the curse of the goddesses be damned.
Claim her. The primal demand raged through his blood. Muting it proved to be the fiercest battle he’d waged.
Avi swallowed hard, the fingers of one hand curling tightly to her abdomen. “C-can they see us?”
“No.” Francesca’s mouth tipped upward at one corner. “But that is the thrill for them. Knowing someone could be out here, enjoying the entertainment they’re providing.” She eyed the pair behind the glass dispassionately. “Sex is always about power and stripping it away, is it not? This room delivers the perfect means for fostering that ideal. Its walls give the illusion of security. A buffer from an outside world that would expose them as the sexual beasts they are.”
“Aren’t we all merely illusions of our own making?” Thane drawled, his humor-filled gaze drifting to Jerrick.
The man was in some serious want of an ass kicking. And Jerrick would gladly deliver it if Thane so much as appeared on the verge of blowing their cover. He cracked his knuckles, the sound apparently getting through to Thane because he gave a low chuckle reserved only for Jerrick’s ears.
Francesca pressed the button again, sealing off the view. “We’ll leave him to his grand finale. There are many more sights I’m sure you’re interested in exploring.”
He was far more interested in digging into Casper Winston’s connection with the club and the coldly distant Mistress Dominitri. But short of demanding the information from her, Jerrick saw no immediate solution to his dilemma.
Hoping his biding of time would pay off, he held firm to his patience while Francesca continued to play hostess for the next hour and showed them the remaining floors.
The final room she guided them into bore a striking resemblance to the Lust Ballroom, but on a smaller scale. And minus the wild orgies. In fact, the majority of occupants in this room were engaged in no more scandalous activity than conversation. There was a threesome participating in a heated and rather complicated tangle of a kiss, but for the most part everyone seemed to be ignoring them. The one commonality he noted was each person in the room wore a mask. For mystery, or anonymity?
Jerrick scrutinized the extravagant peacockian-blue plumage adorning the female’s face across from him, and realized he’d been handed the key to broaching the subject of Casper. He began to open his mouth but at the last moment recalled the role he’d been forced to take on. Sonofabitch. Clearly he wasn’t cut out for this submissive shit. Always having to mind his tongue would get old fast.
He cleared his throat gruffly. When Avi didn’t immediately respond, he repeated the noise violently enough he sounded like a damn hacking cat.
Finally she glanced at him. “What’s wrong? Something stuck in your throat?”
“I need to ask Francesca something.”
“And…what? You need a written invitation?” Avi’s expression cleared at his pointed look. “Oh yeah. Guess you do.” She made a dramatic show of gaining Francesca’s attention. “My sub wishes to ask you something.”
Francesca eyed him coolly. “By all means.”
“Mistress, judging from the masks, I take it not all of your members are ready to expose their identities, much less their inner sexual beasts?”
“A valid observation,” Francesca conceded. “There are many who’ve walked through Rapture’s entrance who desire privacy at all measure, and I do my best to ensure that.”
“You have hosted some important people within these walls, I imagine.” Hopefully stroking her ego would get him what he wanted. Because god knows, his charm wasn’t bloody likely going to do the trick with this one.
“I’ve had my fair share. Doctors, professors. Not to mention several powerful business leaders.”
Bingo. Precisely the opening he’d needed. “Ah yes, I remember an article I came across in last quarter’s edition of Dark Desires.” He deliberately scrunched his forehead, pretending deep contemplation. “I believe the title was ‘The Science of Submission’. A fascinating read.”
Francesca nodded. “A dear friend of mine contributed to that article. He was a brilliant man. Certainly the smartest to grace this establishment.”
He poked Avily in the side, her cue to jump into the conversation. Fortunately she had no problem instantly getting with the program this time around. “My condolences. I didn’t realize your relationship went beyond casual acquaintanceship with Casper Winston.”
A flash of sadness softened Francesca’s features before her expression became shuttered. There was something about the brief pain Jerrick detected in her eyes that clued him in to what her next words would be.
“He was my sub.”
He certainly hadn’t factored in this curveball. Ah hell.
Avily felt like a powder keg of nerves charged to detonate at any second while she stood between Jerrick and Thane at the club’s entrance. How long did it take to get their coats anyway? Maybe the attendant had decided to indulge in a quickie. Damn inconsiderate, considering the quickie she most wanted currently was a swift getaway.
And to think, she’d be faced with this insane sex den all over again tomorrow night. But hopefully she wouldn’t have the added complication of Thane next to her the whole time.
Good gods. How in the world was she going to explain any of this to him? He’d been surprisingly cooperative about the whole thing—no doubt because of Jerrick’s unsubtle threat—but Thane’s head must be buzzing with a million questions.
The girl in the mesh bodysuit finally appeared with their belongings. There was an awkward moment when Thane risked his fingers being broken for attempting to usurp Jerrick’s job of helping Avily into her cloak.
His expression positively territorial, Jerrick snapped the jeweled clasp shut and gently tugged her hair free of the collar. He’d been acting excessively growly and possessive all night. Was their cover strictly responsible for his behavior? Much as she wanted to cling to the delusion of him harboring real jealousy where Thane was concerned, it made little difference. He wasn’t about to give in to his possessiveness, the stubborn bastard.
Their trio bid the club good night and departed the premises together. Conscious of the proximity of prying ears, they chatted about inconsequential things until they safely passed through the gate. The second they reached the Air Racer, she peered up at Thane. “I have some explaining to do.”
“I dare say that’s putting it mildly.” Unperturbed with the murderous glare Jerrick beamed him with, Thane leaned against the Racer.
“I don’t know where to start,” she began weakly.
Jerrick slashed her a warning look, instigating her deep desire to whack him in the head for thinking she’d be foolish enough to reveal too much.
Thane held up a hand. “Please, no need to be embarrassed. I’m not one to judge what others do behind closed doors. If anything, I confess to being more intrigued by you now.”
He thought she was an actual dominatrix? I don’t know whether to be relieved or disturbed by that. “Err…”
“I am surprised, however, that you allowed your sub to speak to you so highhandedly the other day,” Thane said, his lips twitching.
It took a moment to recall the scene in her shop, when Jerrick had walked in on her kissing Thane and then groused about not getting his damn dinner. She narrowed her eyes on Jerrick. “Yes, unfortunately sub Bill has a tendency to forget who’s in charge.” Tuning out the grumpy chuffing noise that slipped from Jerrick, she cleared her throat and offered Thane a tentative smile. “Anyway, thank you for not busting our true identities back there. It isn’t that I’m ashamed of my secret lifestyle, but I’d rather not advertise it.”
“Of course. Completely understandable.” Thane glanced at the antique luminar timepiece strapped to his wrist before granting her an apologetic grin. “I’d love to continue our conversation, but I’m afraid I have an appointment I can’t miss.”
“Pity,” Jerrick muttered.
His mouth adopting a humor-filled slant again, Thane straightened from the vehicle. “I look forward to Saturday.” He paused, his attention roving between her and Jerrick. “Assuming we’re still on for it?”
She felt the intensity of Jerrick’s stare heating the side of her face. It wasn’t her problem that he didn’t trust Thane. And he had no right to throw out his opinions on who she dated in the first place. At least Thane wanted to be with her. It was more than she could say for Jerrick. “Absolutely.”
Jerrick remained a mute stone statue while she and Thane exchanged goodbyes. Barely offering the man a rigid nod as he departed, Jerrick scowled at Thane’s departing back. The moment they were alone, he pinned her with a peevish look. “I distinctly remember telling you I don’t trust him.”
She tossed up her arms. “You don’t trust anyone.”
“Yeah, and with good reason.”
“Do you have the slightest notion how frustrating you are?” Indulging in an irritable huff, she clomped to her side of the Air Racer and tried the door. Still locked. “I’m freezing my boobs off out here.”
He strode next to her and freed the locks. Before she could shake off his assistance, he swept her into his arms and practically tossed her into the seat.
Gritting her teeth, she glared up at him. “Thank you.”
“Certainly, my precious.”
The exaggerated sweetness in his tone triggered her chuckle. Damn it. She hated when he made her laugh when what she really longed to do was clobber him. Smiling like a fiend, he buckled her in and tickled her in the rib cage.
“Stop it, you despicable ass,” she gasped in between giggle fits.
“Despicable, hmm?” He nuzzled her neck, the rasp of his beard scruff amping up his devilish onslaught. “Is that why you insisted on exposing it in these damn pants? Because you despise my cute cheeks so much?”
