A Kiss of Revenge (Entangled Ignite)

by Natalie Damschroder

  “No way.”

  She looked up to see Griff leaning on the doorjamb, holding a can of soda.

  “Why not?”

  “It’s too sexy.”

  Reese blew out a breath. “I’m supposed to look sexy! It’s a porn video!”

  He shrugged. She studied the dress, wanting to wear it just to defy him, but the tiny flowered print was actually too sweet, no matter how short she made it.

  Maybe her cat suit? That was in the laundry, though. She pulled the suit from the basket in her closet and shook it out. She could wash it quickly—but Griff snatched it from her hands and tossed it back in the basket. He stepped into the closet and started shoving hangers back and forth.

  “How about an overcoat?” she sniped at him. “Go classic, cliché, and covered up all at the same time.”

  He ignored her. So she ignored him back, turning to pull open her dresser drawers. She found a pair of low-rise jeans and a baby-doll T-shirt and held them up. “How about these? With cowboy boots?”

  He looked skeptically at the scrap of fabric she called a shirt. “Let me see it on.”

  “For cripes’ sake.” She rolled her eyes and shoved him into the hall. “Give me a sec.” After quickly changing, she shoved her feet into the boots and reopened the door. He studied her critically. Her frustration disappeared, replaced by pure vanity. She stood still, not giving in to the urge to arch a little and emphasize the wide strip of belly and decent amount of cleavage exposed by the clingy shirt.

  Starting at the floor, his eyes stroked slowly up over the snug jeans and stopped when they hit her waist. His fingers drummed in midair, as if he wanted to touch her. Her skin warmed and muscles tightened as a fire ignited deep inside her. Intimate muscles clenched involuntarily, and she stopped breathing.

  When Griff’s gaze reached her chest he closed his eyes and curled his fingers into his palms. “Yeah, that’ll do.” He spun and disappeared down the hallway.

  She followed him to the kitchen, where he circled to the far side of the table and pried open a plastic case that was about one inch square. He kept his head down when she approached, but she could see his cheekbones were ruddy. Pure feminine satisfaction gave her a similar flush, and she couldn’t tear her gaze away from his big, strong hands manipulating a tiny tube of glue and the black dot he’d removed from the case. They were so capable, yet so gentle. She could almost imagine his calluses scraping across her skin. Gooseflesh erupted. She felt the heat of him move behind her to circle to his side of the table. All the hair on that side of her body seemed to rise up and reach for him, tugging her in his direction as he passed, and the sensation was so much like when she went haywire that she slammed the door on encroaching electricity before she realized there wasn’t any. She wasn’t flustered or upset, so her controls remained in place. The effect had been purely physical. Purely…sexual.

  She slammed a second mental door on that thought.

  “So.” She cleared her throat. “What’s this amazing technology?”

  “Come here.” He waved his hand, forefinger extended with the dot resting on its tip.

  She reluctantly went around the table and let him secure the tiny device behind her ear. He touched her so lightly and quickly she barely felt it, but more tingles erupted, and she had to clamp down on the electricity when the lightbulb in the ceiling flickered.

  Griff cast it a quick glance. “The glue will take a little while to wear off, but it’ll keep it from dropping onto the bed at the worst moment.” He frowned and brushed his fingers across the silver chain of her necklace. They sizzled against her skin. “This is the necklace I got you.”

  She pressed her palm against the butterfly and branch charms inside her shirt. She’d worn it nonstop since he’d put it around her neck. It was wrong to keep it, wrong to wear it, risky to wear it tonight—but the designer’s symbols of strength and beauty were so opposite to what her life was right now, she had to keep it close as a reminder of what she was fighting for. If not for herself, for anyone else who could be falling victim to Big K.

  Griff slipped his fingers beneath the chain and pulled until the charms glided from between her breasts and out of the shirt. Her nipples tightened.

  His lips curved. “You should leave it here.”

  “I know.” But she tugged it off his hand and tucked it back where it had been. His eyes darkened, far more blue than gray, but he moved away and picked up the small receiver from the table, pressing a button until a small display lit up. “Let’s test this before we go.” He stepped out into the hall and called, “Okay, talk!”

  “You’re a bit of a geek, aren’t you? I didn’t realize that.”

  He appeared in the doorway, his eyes narrow. “Yeah, it worked perfectly.”

  She winked. He rolled his eyes.

  “Okay, but that’s right next to the transmitter,” she said. “Where will you be?”

  “Across the street. It has a half-mile radius.”

  “In that neighborhood, you’ll stand out.”

  “Don’t worry, this is my job. No one will see me.”

  “Back to the code word, then.” She sat at the table and consulted their list. It had to be something unusual, so Griffin didn’t go flying to the rescue because she’d slipped and said it without thinking. But it couldn’t be something too unusual, either, or the people around her would notice. Eventually, they decided on “snake.” It carried enough innuendo that she could work it in, but was distinctive enough to catch his attention.

  And then it was time to go.

  He dropped her off five blocks from the house several minutes before nine, then drove on. He would try to intercept the girl she was replacing so their plan wouldn’t get screwed up. He hadn’t mentioned what he would say to her, but Reese assumed he’d play cop or fed and tell her a little about what she was getting herself into, scare the girl off so she didn’t come back.

  A few minutes remained before Reese had to be at the house. She practiced a slow, hip-rolling, chest-leading gait and flipped her hair a few times, trying to get into the part. Acting was not one of her acquired skills. Maybe if she’d married an actor instead of a pilot he wouldn’t have gotten himself killed, and then she wouldn’t be in this mess.

  You chose the mess, and now you have to follow through.

  She resisted the nerves-driven urge to ask if Griff was still there. But the transmitter only went one way, and she didn’t want to make him think she was scared. If he did, he’d abort the mission immediately.

  Ripper didn’t show up when she went in the broken gate and up the driveway. He was probably in the house with Dob, who’d been spooked by the guardhouse incident. As she reached the porch steps, Skav came out to greet her. She felt herself flush under his stare, but that was probably normal. She bet a lot of women were nervous their first time, and blushing was a natural reaction to nerves.

  “Come on,” was his only greeting. She followed him inside and up the stairs to the dressing room. She rubbed her arms against the chill and wondered why the air conditioning was cranked so high. A moment later, Skav handed her a red dress on a hanger. His eyes immediately went to her hardened nipples, and he didn’t bother to hide a satisfied leer.

  She hid her disgust, but held the dress in front of her when she took it from Skav.

  He snapped to manager mode. “Put that on. The talent picked it half an hour ago. He’s ready, so hurry up.”

  She bit back a retort—he’d told her to come at nine. But she wasn’t working here, so it didn’t matter how hard of a time he gave her. It wasn’t real.

  That thought relaxed her enough to get the dress on with a minimum of shuddering and shaking. A thong dangled from the hanger, but thank God she’d worn her own. The wrap-style dress snapped on the left side, tight enough to reveal both how cold she was and what her underwear looked like. The “talent” probably planned to rip it off her. She didn’t intend for things to get that far.

  She tucked her necklace into her jeans
pocket and left the clothing on a shelf. Then she forced her feet into the ridiculous red five-inch heels Skav had dropped at her feet, trying to psych herself up for getting naked in front of the skeeves.

  You can do this. Nothing bad is going to happen. Griff has your back. You don’t have to let them touch you.

  The light over her head hummed as electricity surged slightly, attracted by her agitation. Shit. No good. She had to be calm, controlled, or this would be over before she made it worthwhile.

  A pounding on the door made her jump. Skav opened it before she recovered enough to respond. He eyed her up and down, raising goose bumps she had no doubt he’d interpret as excitement rather than disgust, and nodded. “Looks good. Talent should be happy.”

  “What about me?” she couldn’t help asking. “I’m talent, too. Will I be happy?”

  “Don’t know yet. He hasn’t taken it out.”

  “Ugh.” She gagged, hanging back when Skav went into the bedroom. She wanted a look at what she was in for before the others saw her.

  The film equipment was as it had been set up last night, only now it was all on. Her body almost sizzled with awareness of the power. Lights, cameras, recorders, video monitors, all of it hummed and crackled, though only to her.

  Dob and Bark were calling figures to each other as they fiddled with the two cameras, both aimed at the center of the white satin–covered bed. Matching pillows were piled against the wrought-iron headboard. A box of what looked like sex toys sat to the right of the bed, but she couldn’t see what kind and really didn’t want to.

  She shifted to her right and spotted Skav talking to another man. She’d been half expecting the guy from Artsfest, and half expecting the john/trick/talent to be horrifying. This guy was neither—not only a hunk, but a well-dressed, well-groomed hunk. A hunk with money, she guessed, and wondered if that was the key. Perhaps Big K was selling these porn videos to men with money and social status, but with tastes they didn’t want anyone to know about. It would explain the secrecy and the location. But it didn’t explain the girls. How they got them, what they told them, and if they were being prostituted—or worse.

  “There she is.”

  The man turned when Skav nodded to her, and he looked very much like a Boston businessman. His hair was perfectly trimmed and styled, and when he smiled, his teeth were the most perfect she had ever seen. He almost made the real silk shirt he wore with his leather pants seem mainstream.

  “Hi.” He held out a hand. He hadn’t made eye contact, apparently caring more about the effects of the cold room. “Yeah, she’s perfect.” He nudged her elbow to make her pivot. “Nice. Yeah. Yeah, this’ll be great.”

  She finished her slow spin in time to see him pulling hundred-dollar bills from his wallet, a wad nearly an inch thick. Nice to know her value, she thought, chuckling to herself. Her amusement fled when Skav waggled a finger at her.

  “On the bed,” he said. “Flat on your back, up against the pillows. Grab the bars of the bed.”

  “Wait a minute. When do I get paid?” Getting on the bed would rush the part of the evening she had to sabotage, and she hadn’t learned anything yet.

  “When the job is done.” Skav loomed over her, his eyes glittering with anger. “If you don’t want to leave here with bruises that won’t show on camera, you’ll shut up and do as you’re told.”

  She gulped and nodded, hoping her responding anger looked like the fear he expected. Electricity zipped into her, feeling almost gleeful at her lapse of control, but she didn’t fight it. She had to collect it, after all, and as long as she didn’t shock the “talent” too soon, this might work.

  “Now get.”

  She swallowed against her dry throat and glanced at the guy standing against the now-closed door of the room. He smiled, and she assumed he was trying to reassure her. “What am I supposed to be?” she asked, still trying to stall so she could get something, anything, to make this worth it. “I mean, I want to play my part well.”

  “Get on the bed and we’ll tell you,” Skav ordered with exaggerated false patience. He’d picked up the box of toys. “Now.”

  She circled the bed, passing one camera and one light as she did. She only considered for a second before she touched the lamp’s metal post and sent a jolt up the pole and into the socket. The bulb popped, and the room went even colder as the light faded.

  Bark cursed and stomped from the room. Skav echoed him.

  “All right, just sit there.” He pointed at Reese and then the bed. “We’ll be ready in a moment,” he told the “talent” in a much more deferential voice. “This happens once in a while.”

  “Of course.” The tone was nearly British in its New England haughtiness. “I’ll just chat with my lovely here while we wait.” He sat on the other side of the bed and patted it. “Come closer, sweet.”

  She slithered across the bed, suppressing a shudder. She didn’t want this guy to touch her. But she had to learn something to make it worth coming here and putting herself in this position. Maybe it would come from him.

  “So, where you from? What do you do?” She tried a flirtatious, over-the-shoulder look, which prompted him to run his finger over that bare shoulder. More goosebumps rose in its wake, and he smiled. She wished she could tell him it was revulsion, not desire, but she smiled back instead.

  “I’m a broker in New York but I live in Connecticut,” he told her, still stroking a single finger over her skin.

  “Long way to come, for this. What got you into, um…” She leaned forward and whispered, “skin flicks?”

  He smirked and tugged at the strap of her dress. “Why, you did, of course.” He lowered his voice and shifted even closer. His face was now right in front of hers, his mouth even with her chin as he braced himself on the bed, and his gaze directly on her cleavage.

  “The opportunity to shag a delectable commodity such as yourself was irresistible.”

  Commodity, huh? She giggled to show she was flattered and began twisting her hair, a movement that gave her a few inches of space between them. “But why would you want to be in a porn film? I mean, you look like you’re pretty comfortable.” She eyed his Tag Heuer watch. “You don’t need the money, do you?”

  He laughed outright. “Darling, I pay the money here, I do not get paid. And of course the movie isn’t to be sold.” He pointed to her chest, then his own. “It’s just between you…and…me.”

  “All right, we’ve got the light fixed. Let’s get into positions.” The room lights went off and the set lights were aimed directly at the bed. A red light went on on each of the cameras.

  Until now, she’d been calm. But it was go time. She couldn’t stall any more. Her breath became more difficult to control, coming in pants. Her heart began to pound in her chest. And the now-familiar tingling started in her scalp.

  The man who’d paid for her had stripped off his shirt and set one knee on the bed.

  “Up there,” he said, motioning toward the head of the bed. “Against the pillows.” She slithered up the bed, and he nodded. “Put your hands above your head. That’s it.” He knelt over her, straddling one leg, so he faced her without blocking the cameras. “Let’s unwrap this pretty package.” He yanked the edge of the dress to unsnap it. He let the fabric fall so it left her half-covered.

  She tried to concentrate. She had to harness her power if she was going to get out of here without being violated. Or having Griffin come roaring to the rescue, disastrous as that would be.

  A jingle pulled her attention away from the cameras, to the man looming over her, who now dangled a pair of handcuffs from his fingers and sported a much uglier leer.

  “We’re gonna have some fun.”

  She struggled to control her breathing. She could almost hear Griffin in his car, yelling at her to blast it now. Bark slapped his camera as it began to hum. The electricity fought to enter her, while her nervous tension battled it, trying to both pull it in and block it out. She could just let it go out of control an
d blow everything, but then people, including her, would get hurt. She had to concentrate.

  She ignored the man reaching for her wrist and the men watching him do it, fixed the camera positions in her mind, and closed her eyes, imagining the current flowing smoothly through her and collecting in her right hand. She had to do this right. No bright balls of lightning. She aimed one finger at the near camera and let out a thin, invisible stream. She pushed it, forcing more and more electricity into the unit, until sparks suddenly flew and the red light went out.

  “What the—!” Dob jerked back, rubbing the back of his hand and staring at a wisp of smoke swirling through the air. “The camera’s dead!”

  While all attention was on him, she did the same thing to the other camera, with the same result.

  “God damn it!” The talent, or john, or whatever he was, flung the handcuffs onto the bed. His affected tone disappeared, which didn’t surprise her. “For the money I’m paying, this should go a lot more smoothly. Forget the cameras. I’ll skip the souvenir. Let me just do her and be done.” He turned back to Reese and grabbed the edges of her dress.

  Chapter Six

  Reese gripped the dress in both fists, biting back a scream, and fought not to fling the rest of her gathered electricity at his face.

  “Hey!” Skav pulled the guy back by the shoulder, his face livid. “Come out here a sec. We gotta talk.” He half dragged him into the hall.

  She scooted to the edge of the bed and fixed her clothes. She couldn’t hear the conversation outside the nearly closed door, not with Bark and Dob complaining about the equipment.

  “We can still film tonight,” one of them said, making her gut jump. “We’ll just have to use one of the other rooms.”

  “It’ll take us two hours to get things set up in there.” Bark shook his head. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be working all night.”

  “No, you’re right,” Dob agreed. “Me neither.”

  Bark looked at Reese. “Looks like you’re coming back tomorrow.”

  “I don’t like handcuffs,” she said, pouting, relieved tonight was almost over and she’d managed to skip the prostitution part of the evening, but frustrated near tears that she hadn’t gotten what she came for.