Cursed by Chemistry

by Kacey Mark

  Her gaze caught on a mosaic of bird feeders, swings, and perches displayed on the far wall. She frowned. One seemed brighter than the others. Not in presentation or size, but something—yes, a nightingale. The same spread-winged profile from outside and her card had been stamped on the wall in glowing paint.

  Shauna slipped her hand behind the dangling collection of wooden blocks and twine, and traced its outline looking for any hint of imperfection. There must be a secret button or switch. She pushed on the glowing stamp.

  Smooth and cold as painted concrete.

  The door she had come through flew open, accompanied by a chilled gust of autumn air. The entrance erupted. Splintering glass and clanging metal skittered across the floor as a nearby display of wind chimes toppled.

  Shauna flinched and shrunk down to avoid being seen.

  Billy muttered, “…damn son of a…” more growling than an audible words. Adrian’s deep reply interspersed the growling. “I’ll handle this.”

  Something told Shauna he wasn’t talking about the mess either. He sounded unrushed and at complete ease. He would. This was his playground.

  Adrian’s voice lowered beyond Shauna’s grasp. The reluctant scrape, scrape of the bouncer’s clean-up attempt didn’t help. She could only imagine what else Adrian was saying to calm that raging bull.

  I’ll handle it?

  Oh no, not this time he wouldn’t. Adrian had his chance to handle it.

  The handles were coming off.

  She slapped her palm against the wall. The display trembled and clinked. She hit harder, and her palm stung.

  Still nothing.

  Her cheeks heated with frustration. Stupid kindergarten knickknacks were getting the better of her. She lifted the offensive swing from its hook and her view of the stamp became clear. As well as the sharp arrow below that pointed to the east-side wall.

  Seriously? She let the swing slip from her fingertips. It hit the floor with a clunk.

  Shauna’s attention whirred east, and then she craned her neck forward and looked again. An illusion. The wall wasn’t complete. From any other position in the store, she would have overlooked it. The thin slice of false wall obstructed a dark hallway, just wide enough to shoulder through. Beyond that, the faint luster of a brass doorknob and the outline of another door.

  “Shauna—”

  She stole a look in his direction.

  “You’re not going in there.” Two aisles over, Adrian squared himself to full attention. The logoed cotton T-shirt that met her earlier still clung to his chiseled pecs.

  She swallowed. Someone should really turn the heat down on his drier. Or confiscate it.

  As if on cue, those proud pecs twitched as Adrian folded his arms. Massive shoulders lifted in a what-gives sort of shrug.

  A new form of heat flared in her cheeks. She’d seen Adrian’s recipe for challenge before. The higher her gaze traveled, the more potent it got.

  The thick cords of muscle at his neck channeled upward to an iron-set jaw. She couldn’t look past the dusting of stubble. She couldn’t meet his eyes. Adrian already held enough of an edge to stay her.

  On a normal day.

  But Shauna moved again for the door.

  What could he do? Nothing. He played here all the time. If he could do it, so could she.

  In her tender, teenage years, his anger and disapproval would have thrown a proverbial bucket of ice over her spirit. But it was about time she outgrew him. No more spirit shushies for her.

  She shot him what she hoped was her most impish grin and rushed for the hall. “Sorry, but I just can’t help myself.”

  “Damn you,” he muttered. Determined steps marched through the store, and echoed between the narrowed walls.

  Adrian was gaining but not fast enough. Bubbles of delight chased around in her stomach when she reached the door. She didn’t fight the urge to giggle as the knob turned with minimal effort, and Shauna rushed inside.

  Chapter Eight

  The door slammed and the steel cage surrounding her shuddered in response. There went the tiny, bat-like cry of what used to be her victory, as it flapped away in an irregular path.

  She spun around; the clang of her heels echoed through the structure.

  Please let it be an elevator, not a…whatever the heck else it might be. This wasn’t familiar territory, but not even Shauna could imagine this much security just for a broom closet.

  Urgent sirens in her head blared, Doorknob. Doorknob.

  Any second, it would turn. She’d be face-to-face with that party-pooping Poindexter.

  Within arm’s reach on the right, a small, black box with two buttons stood out from the wall. She jabbed the lower button with her index finger. A buzzer sounded. Shauna’s attention caught a slight movement through the door, as a metallic click sounded, and a bolt slid into place.

  The cage bounced, then shook as it descended, but Shauna kept her gaze on that knob.

  With the look on Adrian’s face, would a simple bolt prevent him from crashing through the door?

  Of course it would. This was Adrian. Content, everything in moderation Adrian. Not the neighborhood idol from her youth.

  The handle jerked, rattled. Then it stopped.

  The even prattle of the elevator’s motor became the only sound.

  She swallowed. Good…this is good. It would give her plenty of time to lose herself before the elevator returned for him.

  And hope to God he doesn’t find the stairs.

  The cage sprang, and another rattle ensued as the elevator lowered itself in front of another door. Shauna took a tight breath and turned the knob. She pushed the door a fraction. Relief.

  No Adrian standing in the margin of space. She opened it wide.

  Another hallway, this time ornate stone tile replaced cracked linoleum. Still, no Adrian.

  She stepped out and looked to the buttery-yellow recessed lights. No sound, no sign of her self-appointed babysitter. She looked to the steel cage. It wasn’t returning for him.

  Her steps slowed. What was this annoying ache in her chest? Not regret. Not disappointment. Couldn’t be.

  What the heck was wrong with her? She reduced her pace to a careless amble.

  Twin entry tables guarded both sides of the hall; each bolstered enormous iron lamps. Their shades, a dense skirt of blue and purple feathers that swayed to life in a tepid breeze.

  Who knew it would be this painful to play the dumb female card? She’d used it to her advantage at work a few times, maybe to get out of a speeding ticket, but never to this extent. And hormones, for the love of God, get a hold of yourselves. This wasn’t about Adrian chasing her. It was about convincing him to give her what she wanted.

  Sex.

  No! She shook her head. A cure.

  Right.

  The purpose—the real purpose, distilled down to one word. Naughty. And how much of it could she aimlessly wander into before Adrian’s good-neighbor morals came out, and he finally agreed to help her.

  She couldn’t use him as her safety net. Not this far into the game.

  That wouldn’t get her anywhere.

  It might get her more chocolate, though. Shauna darted her tongue out to catch any remains of the stolen nuggets. She reached for her stash. Only one hard ball remained nestled in the pocket of empty wrappers.

  Forget marriage and the picket fence. Sitting back and playing it safe all these years…and for what?

  She squeezed the candy wrapper until the chocolate dropped into her open mouth.

  Forget the normal sexual lifestyle too. Normal for Shauna had been nonexistent! And what’s normal about that? Maybe here, maybe this place could give her what she’d been missing.

  The hint of trickling water seemed real from the glass fountains framed on either wall, but the cricket sound, and what she could only assume was a nightingale singing, must have been piped in.

  Shauna stopped chewing.

  Lurid, low-slung voices filtered through the background
as she neared the end of the hall and turned a sharp corner.

  “Good times with that one,” one gruff, female voice noted.

  A male responded after a brief pause, as though taking a drag from a cigarette. “I’ll bet.”

  “You should try her.” The female prodded. “Like a warm apricot—swear to God.”

  “Really. Is that right?” Another pause. “Who could pass that up?” the man asked.

  Shauna tried not to make eye contact with the booth nearest her as she descended the iron-grate steps, but her curiosity couldn’t let go. How quick could Shauna blend in a place this unfamiliar? What were these people like?

  She knew what Adrian would do. He’d own this place. Her best bet would be to own it too.

  The eggplant-purple walls grew further apart with each step, and the bottom of the staircase brought her completely into the open.

  The sound of rubbing leather caught Shauna’s attention near her left. This time her attention caught and held. The silhouette of a slender man—probably the owner of the male voice, slid to the edge of a rounded booth, and stood.

  Shauna blinked to adjust her vision from warm halos to shadows and glowing neon.

  The man escorted a curvy woman to her feet then angled his head for an older woman to join them.

  The trio paraded through a room dappled with white leather furniture and oversized ottomans. Their proud gazes seemed to scour the darkened perimeter as if asking for an unseen crowd to gather in.

  Alcoves along the far wall were fitted with king-sized mattresses and mirrored headboards. Tight fitted sheets glowed pink and blue against neon lights.

  And a bar—thank God! The shell-shaped counter seemed pretty purposeful. Not familiar but at least recognizable. As for the rest of the place…call it a vacation spa of sorts. That sounded safe. Shauna offered a reasonable nod. A sleazy spa, but still, she could own a spa, no problem.

  She took a deep breath and stretched her arms out to the new walls and shelves that boasted rolled towels and colorful knick-knacks.

  Her thoughts played in soothing, singsong. What a great place for releasing tension and inhibitions and promoting nothing but good feelings.

  She wound a path through the collection of booths as her gaze bounced from one surprise to the next.

  The lit dance floor seemed strangely unoccupied for the number of people filing into this place. She expected a crowded room where she could blend in somehow. Not happening. The place seemed ten times the size of the store overhead.

  She would have preferred the pulsing beat of a normal dance club like the ones she’d seen on TV. Shauna’d stayed away from parties altogether since the frat disaster. But at least that one had music. Here, the urban heave-and-thump from the speaker system had been subdued. It drowned under the authoritarian clip of her heeled boots.

  She spied plenty of intimate hidey-holes, but they were all occupied. Patrons clung to the corners and walls. Milky-blue flashes of light sprang to her attention like fireflies in summer.

  Her confidence screeched to a halt.

  Spa feeling gone.

  That wasn’t light, more of a reflection, really. Pale skin, hidden from the harsh rays of sun and society, had now been fully exposed. It glanced off mirrors and loomed under the neon glow. And plethora didn’t begin to describe the amount of it.

  Shauna’s throat stretched around a painful lump as she swallowed the chocolate whole.

  Those are just massages. The special, happily ever after, maybe a bit vigorous, and kinda-invasive…

  She turned to the nearest pillar in a weak attempt to avert her eyes, and the flush that threatened to turn her cheeks into bright red homing beacons.

  The distraction worked, until she studied closer. Those “knickknacks” of sculpted glass and chrome weren’t just art, they were functional. Toys, tools, and devices…of the freaky kind. Everything had a price tag, and a big one. Some objects, like the nine-inch shafts, were pretty obvious. While others— Shauna tipped her head, trying to puzzle their use.

  A well-dressed man slid into view from the other side of the pillar. “See anything you like?”

  “No, but thanks.”

  The man’s voice flowed smooth and as spiced molasses. “No need to thank me. I haven’t offered anything yet.”

  Shauna changed direction, evading the suit and heading straight for the bar. Remember what Kimmy said. “These are normal acts of human curiosity and affection—”

  Now she understood the disclosure. “—just give it a minute to sink in. This is a natural urge that everyone has. Some people are just more open to exploring. Some are more comfortable.”

  This went far beyond normal exploration in Shauna’s book. The pole dancers, caged behind the bar, seemed more modest than the crowd they’d been hired to entertain.

  Who was she kidding? This was no spa, no summer ice cream parlor. She looked at the occupants on her right. And that was no ice cream cone.

  Her gaze fled for the trio she’d crossed paths with. They seemed to know their way around. Maybe they were leaving. There had to be an exit on this level somewhere. It was fire code, right?

  Shauna’s hope deflated. The trio hadn’t gone far. Center stage in the room, the curvy woman had perched herself on the raised inner portion of a circular sofa. She arched backward, her shoulders supported by the older lady—the gruff one, who reached forward and tugged the curvy woman’s shirt upward.

  Probably to get a better look at the show below waist level.

  Pretty sure there were laws against spreading legs that far apart while wearing a skirt. Surprisingly limber for someone her size.

  The man knelt between her thighs and pushed them further apart with both hands. Shauna blinked.

  Correction. No skirt.

  Shauna whipped her attention away as the man dipped his head into the limber woman’s lap.

  Shauna’s gaze hit the ground. Oh. My. Good-hell-someone-get-me-outta-here. She pivoted back in the direction she’d come. Her head swam, slower to catch up with the rest of her body.

  “Hey, sweetsome.”

  That suit again.

  Shauna managed one wobbling step in retreat before her path was blocked.

  “Where you from?”

  Shauna’s line of sight traveled from loafers to flashy-pink tie. She hoped the look of annoyance would connect, but gauging the man’s Mona Lisa smile, he wasn’t taking “buzz-off” for an answer. “From?” she demanded.

  “Haven’t seen you around before.” The suited man gave her a favorable once-over as he rubbed his baby-smooth chin. “I’d remember you.”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m from—uh, the Seattle group.”

  “Seattle?” The man rocked back on his heels. “I’ve got some friends up there. The name’s Onyx.” He offered a soft handshake. “Sorry to disrupt your show. The Grand Master’s frolicking in the dungeon tonight, so I’m playing host. Can I take your coat?”

  Shauna’s shoulders dropped in their sockets. This guy was a big deal? She shifted out of her coat and handed it over. The warmth of the coat’s silky lining slid from her arms.

  “There. That’s better, isn’t it?”

  Not really, Shauna hadn’t noticed the sewn in heaven feel of the coat until it left her. If she’d known, she never would have given it up. Probably would have spent the evening rolling around in the coat closet too.

  He half turned his attention back to the trio. “Sorry I didn’t catch you when you first walked in. Awfully rude of me.”

  She followed Onyx’s lead, turning back to the center of attention. “No worries,” she murmured.

  Shauna stared straight ahead, willing herself to look through the people. The undulating movements of the man’s mouth. The dramatic arch on the woman’s back. The spasm of her thighs, and the way she rocked her hips at an urgent pace, as if to goad him on. And the noise—oh God, the noise. Shauna’s mind worked to bail out the images as fast as her eyes took them in. Spa, spa, spa.

  It wasn�
��t working. The throbbing tempo that grew in force around Shauna’s lower half seemed to overpower her logic. The moisture that pooled in the confines of her panties seemed to welcome anything—anyone—that might relieve her infernal itch. And somehow that woman was getting what Shauna needed.

  Her tongue slid over her cheery gloss-slicked upper lip, and Shauna chanced an angled glimpse at the man’s expert ministrations.

  His tongue danced over the glistening folds of the woman’s outer seam. Wide flays from the full length of his tongue increased their tempo, as he moved upward from the lowest point of her genitals. A deliberate splay of his index and middle finger revealed the reddened inner folds of her most sensitive area. The tip of his tongue flexed sharp and quick as he speared between the swollen folds. Then the man settled into the upper crest of the woman’s clit.

  The woman’s moans quickened to a feverish pitch of delight. One that played harmony with the mischievous anticipation tightening in Shauna’s chest. She shouldn’t be seeing this. But she couldn’t look away.

  “That there’s Amanda. She’s pretty, isn’t she?” Onyx commented.

  Shauna blinked. “Yeah, she’s something else.”

  “We all are, darling.” He angled his head in thoughtful curiosity. “You top or bottom?”

  She offered a careless flap her hand. “Oh, top. Definitely top.”

  “Really.” He paused. “Just how long’ve you been a player?” His tone seemed disturbingly casual over the curvy woman’s accelerating moans.

  “Not long.” She swallowed. “Not really very long at all.”

  Onyx’s lips eased into that Mona Lisa smile again. Was he wearing lip-gloss too? “Come now, there’s no need to be modest here.”

  “What do you mean, modest?” Was he talking about her clothes? He didn’t expect her to hand over more, did he?

  The man pointed a manicured finger to Shauna’s boots. “You’ve been in the game long enough to earn those.”

  Shauna followed his gaze to the glossy, black leather and row of silver buckles that bound her legs from ankle to knee. Funny how those heels seemed to beam back at her with a power all their own. “Oh. Yeah.”