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To Rub, Honor and Obey

Page 11

by Melinda Barron


  Rhylie frowned, then pulled her arm away. Was the woman some sort of heat conductor who could pass warmth to others? That would be a phenomenon worth studying. But before she could say anything, she let go of Rhylie’s arm and waved them in.

  “In honor of Rhylie’s birthday, everyone gets to go in now. Go, but stay orderly, please.”

  The crowd cheered as the ladies walked inside. As the three friends stepped over the threshold, Anya appeared in front of them. Rhylie blinked at her rapid movements, but the other two ladies didn’t seem to notice.

  “Around ten, make your way to the Pleasure Hall,” Anya said, leaning closer as if to impart confidential information. “It’s ladies’ night.”

  “Strippers?” Cassidy wagged her tongue in appreciation.

  Anya grinned. “You got it. Have fun, ladies.”

  Rhylie gave her coat to a woman that appeared at her side, then turned back to talk to Anya, but the hostess had disappeared.

  “She knew my name.”

  “What?” Elise handed over her coat, then propelled her toward the main entrance.

  “She knew my name, without being told.”

  “Nonsense,” Cassidy said. “I’m sure I said it outside.”

  “No, you said, my friend.” Rhylie didn’t want to tell Cassidy that with the many variables outside, including the wind and the dull roar of the crowd, would make it impossible for Anya to have heard Cassidy say her name from almost thirty feet away.

  “Would you relax? Did you hear what she said? Strippers. You’re going to pick one of them out, proposition him, and take him home with you. They’ll be so horny after all those woman fawning over them, they’ll be ready for some hot action. Maybe you can take two for the price of one.”

  “They’re probably gay. The chances of two of them not being gay, or taken, are probably six hundr…” Rhylie clamped her mouth shut when Cassidy held up a finger.

  “I swear, if you sprout one more statistic tonight, I’m going to rush us to the nearest BDSM club and offer your butt for a whipping. I’ll put a muzzle on you and tell them I’m your Mistress and it’s all a game.”

  “Fine. I’ll shut up then, Mistress.”

  “That’s better.” Cassidy beamed at her. “Behave yourself slave, or I’ll follow through on my threat.”

  Inside the club they found a festive atmosphere, much like a Sultan’s harem. Brightly colored swatches of cloth hung from the rafters and braziers provided low lighting. Rhylie wanted to go and examine one, to see what its source of energy was. Instead, she allowed Cassidy and Elise to lead her to a table where they ordered Cosmopolitans from a well built waiter.

  “Yummy,” Elise said. “Bodes well for the ladies’ night show, doesn’t it. These men are gorgeous.”

  “So are the women, though. Maybe they’re all already taken, with each other.” She tired not to feel out of place in her size sixteen body, currently stuffed into a brand new little black dress that was much shorter than she was used to wearing. They’d spent the day at the spa, though, so her nails and toes were freshly done, and her blond hair was perfectly coiffed.

  She had sat perfectly still while a professional did her makeup, and the results were spectacular, even if she did say so herself. But underneath it all, she was still the same Rhylie, the woman who worked with other scientists trying to figure out why temperatures were changing so rapidly, why weather patterns had altered and what, if anything, could be done about it.

  Her drink arrived and she guzzled it down, fast. Cassidy’s eyes widened and she grabbed a passing waitress. “Another one, please. Heck, bring her two more.”

  The waitress nodded.

  By the time she’d finished the second drink, Rhylie felt no pain. She imagined herself in the nursing home, telling her roommate, “I got slammed on my thirtieth birthday and had sex with a stripper. Top that one.”

  Cassidy and Elise both rushed to the dance floor. Rhylie stayed at the table, and had just started on her third drink when warm sensations spread up her back. It was as if someone was touching her, stroking her hip lightly. She turned to find nothing but blank space.

  She took another sip of her drink before pushing it away. “Slow down, Rhylie. You’re starting to hallucinate.”

  Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling of someone, or something, standing beside her, studying her, probing her mind, body and soul. The shivers increased, pleasurable ones that made her nipples tingle and wetness form between her thighs.

  There were fingers on her, touching her lightly. She moaned once, and there was one final feel of them over her neck, tracing down to her heart, caressing her.

  “Oh yeah,” she whispered as the fingers moved just a little lower, then disappeared, leaving behind a trail of warmth and pure bliss.

  She glanced around and saw she was still alone, except for the hundreds of people milling about, ignoring her. She didn’t believe in supernatural things, didn’t believe in mind reading or instant connections or déjà vu, or auras or any of that stuff. And she didn’t believe in visits from ghosts or spirits. There was just no logical explanation for things like that.

  “Too much alcohol,” she said, pushing her glass away further so she wouldn’t be tempted to go back to it. She held up a finger, intent on asking the waitress for a soft drink.

  “Here you go,” the waitress said, putting one in front of her.

  “But I didn’t ask for it yet.”

  “No, but I had an extra one, and you looked like you needed it. Better grab your friends and hurry in for ladies’ night. Tonight’s theme is men in uniform. Yummy.”

  The waitress flitted away and within seconds, Rhylie followed Cassidy and Elise into the Pleasure Hall. The action had already started. Seductive music with loud beats blared from the speakers and half-dressed men gyrated around tables, some of them standing on top of them. They were all beautiful, well-built specimens who looked as if they could stand in for Atlas.

  Suddenly, the room went wild. A spotlight fell on Rhylie and two sets of powerful hands came under her, forming a chair and picking her up in their arms.

  The crowd started to chant “birthday girl” and embarrassment flooded her face, the heat feeling as if it would melt any ice formed outside the building. The two men trotted toward the stage and she held on to their shoulders, praying she didn’t fall off. They deposited her next to Anya, who was speaking into a microphone.

  “We have a special treat for the birthday girl,” she yelled to the crowd. “One special dance from one special dancer. And who shall it be, hum? It’s your choice, Rhylie, so choose wisely.”

  Rhylie wheeled around to find a line of men standing behind her, dressed in everything from a policeman’s uniform to a sailor. All the armed forces were represented, along with every manner of civil servant. She surveyed the group. Every last one of them gave her a seductive look, winking and moistening their lips as if in anticipation of a kiss.

  She turned back to Anya. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “Go with your heart. One special dance, which one attracts you the most?”

  “Um, I’ve never done anything like this.”

  Anya stepped behind her and gently touched her shoulder. “Close your eyes and think which one of these men you’d like to see dance for you, and only you”

  Rhylie followed her instructions. Images of the men danced before her eyes, their uniforms disappearing to reveal gorgeous, toned bodies. She focused in on one.

  Fire. She worked with the elements, knew about the elements. Fire. The fireman.

  Before she could voice her choice, though, flames shot up on either side of the stage, seeming as if they would singe the ceiling. Smoke curled around her feet and she was lifted up by two of the men and deposited in a throne at the center of the stage.

  The fireman moved toward her slowly, his head down, his hips swaying to the beat of the music. Her heart pounded as he stepped in front of her, his gaze fastened on the floor. Then he lifted his head slowly and
as the music sped up she found herself staring into a pair of smooth, chocolate brown eyes.

  “Welcome to my world, Rhylie. May I light your fire, and then use my hose to soothe your burns?” He cupped his crotch and Rhylie’s mouth feel open. Before she knew it, a soft yes escaped her lips and he started to dance as the flames shot up again.

  And her body felt as if it had caught fire, in the most delicious way possible.

  About the Author

  Melinda Barron loves to explore Egyptian tombs and temples, discover Mayan ruins, play in castles towers, and explore new cities and countries. She generally does it all from the comfort of her home by opening a book.

  Melinda is the fourth of five children born to an Army officer and his wife. A longtime newspaper journalist, Melinda has loved to read and write from an early age. Now she lives in the Texas Panhandle with two cats, Amelia and Pippin, and enough books to, according to her brother, open her own library. In addition to reading and writing Melinda enjoys travel, cross-stitching, watching movies and spending time with her friends and family.

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  www.resplendencepublishing.com

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