“Did you have to be so extroverted?” she whispered, not even bothering to hide her sarcasm.
“We’re a couple in a threesome trying to find a little sexual entertainment,” he whispered back. “I thought a little acting wasn’t out of the question.”
“Humph,” she managed to grunt as they pushed past one pudgy man slobbering over a redhead who was twirling her hair around a finger. “What was that about a fee?”
“You didn’t think a place like this would be free, did you?”
“How much?”
“Three thousand.”
“Dollars?” she gasped.
“I would have preferred pesos, but funny enough, they didn’t take foreign money.”
“And Cecelia Duwhite certainly had ‘high class’ attached to her name. Did you see her shoes? I would have thought you’d jump at a chance with a woman like her.”
“Did you really think I’d invite her into our private time together?” Nash murmured into her ear. “She’s a suspect.”
“A beautiful blonde suspect.”
One of his eyebrows shot up. “Are you jealous?”
“Absolutely not,” she denied with as much indignation as she could muster.
They had made it to the back, near the hallways, and Nash turned to face her. A small smile played at the corners of his mouth. “You are.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his body. Immediately she was transported back to that special realm he had taken her earlier, where her body became one big tingle of anticipation. Everything faded for a second as she was able to stare into the dark-blue orbs of his eyes, seeing his desire for her burning bright. It flamed her passions to life, which had only simmered below the surface. It only took one touch of his hand on her to ignite her want of him.
He bent low to whisper in her ear. “You have nothing to be jealous of. I’m so hard for you I could hammer a nail through a two-by-four. But we’re probably being watched right now, and our job is to find the room where you saw the girls.”
She nodded, though she took the opportunity to nuzzle his neck. He groaned and cursed under his breath. Then he eased back and gave her a rueful look.
“I should tell you, there’s something here.”
His eyes widened. “A pull? Where?”
“No, not a pull. It’s something else. But there’s too much noise, too much distraction. I can’t discern where it’s coming from. By the way, what did she, um, mean by Danny booking us in a room?”
His lips pursed together like he just swallowed something sour. “I might have inferred that we liked a little…you know.”
“No, I don’t know.”
“A little, well, bondage time.”
“What?” she screeched.
“Keep your voice down.”
“I will not. And I will not be tied up like a Thanksgiving turkey!”
“No one’s tying. Geez, the definition of bondage has evolved.”
“Really? What, Webster called and said we made a mistake?”
“I’m saying I had to make Danny think we were into kink. And let’s face it, who isn’t into kink?”
Charlotte opened her mouth to scathingly reply, but her own words came back in a flash. She’d said something very similar to Jonas not too long ago.
“Oh, I hate it when you’re right,” she snapped instead.
He spread his hands apart. “Is it always going to be like this with us?”
“There is no us, Nash.”
He frowned. “And just how would you explain what happened a half hour ago?”
“This is not the time or the place to be having this discussion.”
“Answer me, damn it.”
“What do you want me to tell you? That I have feelings for you? Fine, I do. When we first met, I fell hard and you crushed me something good. But I moved past it, and I found someone, Nash, and I love him.”
“You love me, too.”
“Not anymore.”
“Liar,” he murmured and pulled her into his arms, his large palm splaying against her lower back. She put her hands on his pecs and tried very hard not to notice how buff they felt under his shirt.
“I think we’re forgetting why we’re here. Let’s focus on the mission right now.”
“Yes, there is a bondage room waiting with our names on it.”
She wrinkled her nose. “That sounds soooo bad.”
“Bad as in good?”
“Bad as in bad.
“So pick,” he said. “Where do we go first? The voyeur hallway or to our assigned room?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Why do I get the impression you loved asking that question?”
She saw he had a hard time not smiling. She suddenly felt like a little mouse being hunted by a hawk.
* * * *
She had expected a room bathed in scarlet red. Maybe a little black leather and lace decorations, or perhaps whips and chains hanging from the ceiling. What she did not expect, as she stepped into the first voyeur room, was a stage. The only lighting came from the backlit platform where a man and woman danced. Charlotte made out seats, but it was so dark she could barely make out the shapes. Her attention had been captured by the exquisite couple moving gracefully to the haunting strands of some romantic classical music. It wasn’t a piece she recognized. She knew the soundtrack to The Lord of the Rings and to Titanic, and that about summed up her knowledge of instrumental music.
Her gaze was riveted to the dancing couple. But instead of having a tutu and tights, the pair was naked. They moved as one, flowing together, using the melody to guide them. It was a type of graceful ballet, only their feet did not move. Instead, their arms and hands became the platform of beauty, twirling around each other like a snake charmed by a flute. The man picked up the tiny woman and settled her onto his thick cock, and again, their rhythm matched the piece of music. Up and down he moved her, like she was floating on water. After a few minutes he changed her position, riding him reverse cowboy, the entire time her hands dancing through the air.
Her position shifted every few minutes, but her partner would execute the move gracefully, until Charlotte decided that what she watched wasn’t a live sex show but really a beautiful interpretation of art. Her breath caught in her throat each time the man would move his lover into another stance, the harmonious fitting of the pair beyond exquisite.
Charlotte grew hot, a fine sheen of sweat covering her forehead. Her nipples hardened into little pebbles. She felt liquid heat dripping from her pussy, drenching her panties. She waited with anticipation for the dancing couple to climax, silently urging them onward to that pinnacle of absolute pleasure.
She could see the man start to fall apart, but only by subtle hints. His lips tightened, the grip he had on his lover’s hips whitened, and his cock swelled with each thrust.
“He’s coming inside her,” Nash whispered in her ear. “Pouring himself into her. Look at the bliss on his face.”
Charlotte couldn’t look away. She was transfixed by the sheer beauty of the moment, something that should have been private and yet portrayed so openly. This wasn’t pornography. It was rapture.
She felt Nash’s fingers trail down the back of her neck, sending tiny shivers over her skin. On stage the couple disappeared into the shadows as two more lovers came forth. The music became tender as the two danced something new, teasing and taunting each other. She could feel Nash’s breath on her cheek, and she turned her head, knowing he would kiss her and wanting it with every fiber of her being.
He nibbled at her lips, sucking on each one before sliding them apart. His tongue entwined with hers, initiating its own mating ritual. The lust that welled inside her skin was like a vortex, and she was helpless to avoid it.
She wanted him. She wanted him so much it was an ache deep inside her. Part of her was ready to throw caution to the wind and let the night proceed with the kiss. But a nagging little voice inside reminded her of the real reason she was at the club, and it had nothing to
do with the couple on stage.
Regrettably, she pulled back. The dim light illuminated the glitter of desire in Nash’s eyes, and she could feel the heat of his body reaching for her.
“There’s nothing supernatural here,” she whispered.
He eased back. “Right. Shall we go on?”
She nodded jerkily, unable to answer. He rose and held out his hand. She stared at it for a moment before taking it, letting him help her up. She wanted to look back at the couple but was afraid of being seduced with the atmosphere. They left the first room and went into the second.
A dozen cubicles stood like a maze, each one having their own window blind to hide what was happening on the other side. Nash led her to one and peeked through. Charlotte watched him, studying his square jaw and muscled frame, tracing each line of his profile with admiring eyes. She may tease him about working out, but she could certainly appreciate the flawless physique.
“Would you like to see?” he murmured, still peeping.
She took a deep breath and fingered open a little section in the blind. A woman stood on the other side, naked except for an apron. She was pretending to clean a living room, complete with a couch and television. It might have been laughable except the woman was perfect in every detail. Her breasts were full with pink-tipped nipples, her waist tiny and her hips full. Her ass was round without one patch of cellulite.
She and Nash eased back at the same time.
“When we have a house will you clean it like that?”
“Sure,” she murmured back, keeping with the fantasy. “You bring home the bacon, and I’ll fry it up in a pan.”
He ginned at her and moved to the next cubicle. She followed, knowing that they should continue their search because there wasn’t any pull in the room. In fact, there wasn’t any pull at all in the hallway, but she didn’t have to tell him that right away. Had someone asked her yesterday if she was into watching anonymous couples have sex, she would have said no. But that was before she stepped foot into the club, and she wasn’t sure if it had to do with the sexual aspect around her or if all rested with Nash’s magnetic presence.
She was like a moth to a flame.
As she peered into the second cubicle, she found a man and woman masturbating. The woman had her knees drawn up as she glided a hot pink dildo in and out of her, while the man squatted and tugged on his turgid cock.
“That’s an uncomfortable position for masturbation,” Nash murmured.
The sudden image of Nash with his dick in his hand assaulted her imagination, making the exhibition behind the blinds seem tawdry. She let go and stood facing him until he pulled away from the cubicle as well.
“There’s nothing here, either,” she told him. “In fact, this entire hallway is otherworldly free.”
“Then let’s explore the next hallway. Are you ready?”
There seemed to be a wealth of meaning behind that sentence, and she wasn’t sure how to interpret it. The next step would be to enter their assigned room, where the promise of bondage loomed. Although, if she were completely honest with herself, knowing that Nash would be by her side, the idea of being tied up by him didn’t scare her in the least. In fact, it made her femininity pulse with excitement.
Nash took her hand and led her from the room, out of the hallway, and back into the meet-and-greet area. There were fewer people than before, and Charlotte supposed many had found their evening’s company.
He led her into the third hallway, and Charlotte saw the first two doors with a red light shining over them. He stopped at the third door that had a little plaque with the letter C engraved on it. The light above wasn’t on. Nash opened the door and gestured for her to enter first. She sort of wished he wasn’t so chivalrous.
Ah. Here was the debauched-looking room, painted with black, low-light sconces in the corner the only provider of light. A bed stood in the corner, the black silk sheets looking like a river of oil. The walls had adornments of various ropes, whips, and chains rather than pictures of art.
The only other pieces of furniture were a chest of drawers and a dubious-looking X-frame in the center of the room. Though she was far from literate in the world of bondage, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what the wooden frame was for.
She paused, and apprehension flooded her, wiping away the lingering sensual haze.
“I don’t know about this, Nash,” she whispered, turning to him.
He put his hands on her shoulders. “It’s okay. We won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”
“Indeed,” came a low voice from behind them.
They turned, and Charlotte’s mouth just about dropped open. A man in a leather mask, à la Zorro, stood before them. His hair was dark, his body was ripped, and he oozed sex appeal. Skin-tight leather pants hugged his hips, and his magnificent chest was bare, glistening in the low light. Even though she was in love with Jonas and in lust with Nash, this man made her want to fan herself. He was a romance cover model and Thunder Down Under all rolled into one salivating hot body, and she wished she had some dollar bills she could stuff down his low riders.
“I am Master Eyries,” the man said, introducing himself. “Would you like to be taught submission?”
“I would like for her to be subdued,” Nash stated.
“Wait a minute,” she said, raising her hand. “Do we get a choice? Because I wouldn’t mind being the subduer.”
“You can’t be the subduer,” Nash stated.
She lowered her hand. “Why not?”
“Because I kind of had this…thing.”
“Thing? What thing?”
He bent low to whisper in her ear. “Fantasy,” he said.
“You’ve had a fantasy of subduing me? No wonder you want to carry on this show of master and commander. That’s just so wrong.”
“Oh, but it’s okay for you to subdue me?”
“Well, I’m not the one who booked this room.”
“And what room would you have chosen, hmm?”
“One that didn’t have Zorro in it, that’s for sure.” She turned to the masked man. “No offense. You’re gorgeous, by the way.”
“What if he was Jonas? Would that better suit you?”
That thought brought her up short. A minute ago she would have protested that no way in hell would she want to act out any bondage fantasy, but picturing Nash and Jonas? Good God, she’d be the first to raise her hand and volunteer.
Master Eyries watched them, a frown hanging at the corner of his lips. “Are you both done?”
“Sorry,” Nash said. “It’s a little complicated. But go on, please.”
The man looked at both of them. “Okay. I was getting ready to say that the art of arousing a submissive is taught through practice. What I will show you this night is just but a step in your journey.”
Nash nodded, agreeing.
Charlotte raised her hand again. She saw Nash pinch the bridge of his nose and mutter something unintelligible under his breath.
“When you say submissive, what exactly do you mean?” she asked.
Master Eyries blinked. “What do you mean what do I mean?”
“I’ve been on the Internet and have seen some very unappealing poses that look downright hurtful.”
“Obviously you’re new to this, so we’d start out slow,” he assured her.
“Uh-huh,” she replied. “And how long have you been doing this? I mean, is your resume half-full or half-empty?”
“Oh for God’s sakes,” Nash muttered.
“What? I just want to make sure he knows what he’s doing. I wouldn’t want you to get trussed up like a ham hock or something and then get stuck that way. Circulation is very important to extremities. Or at least that’s what Delia always says.”
Master Eyries waved back and forth at them. “Do you want to do this or not?”
“Yes,” Nash said.
“I don’t know, Nash,” she answered. “Is this equipment even sanitized?”
“Yes, it is,�
�� Master Eyries replied.
“Can I have a word?” When the man gave an exasperated nod, Nash took Charlotte’s arm and led her into a corner. “Okay, tell me if you feel anything here.”
“Sexually?”
“No, supernaturally.”
“Oh,” she said and then fell quiet as she concentrated. And right then, she felt the briefest touch against her skin. Very soft, very faint, but something guiding her nonetheless. It was hard to tell what the touch wanted from her or where it wanted her to go, or even if it was related to her case. But since there was only one she was trying to solve, she had to believe it belonged to one of the girls.
Crap.
“Yes,” she replied. “But I can’t exactly tell where it’s coming from.”
Nash’s eyes widened. “Maybe the equipment?”
“I think I hate you again,” she said, growling at him under her breath.
“I’ve got an idea,” he said.
Nash held onto her arm as they walked back to Master Eyries.
“She can subdue me,” he announced unexpectedly. Charlotte turned wide eyes toward him.
“But only her hands, not yours.”
Master Eyries nodded. “Take off your shirt.”
And when Master Eyries was satisfied that he was complying, he turned his back on them to walk toward the dresser, and that was when the tattoo came into view. Of course, they had come here searching for the man in her vision, but she didn’t think it would be that easy to find him.
But here he was, with eagle wings spread over his shoulder and down his arm, looking like it was ready for flight.
Chapter Twelve
“How do we handle this?” she whispered.
“We found the man, but you have to find the object,” he whispered back and then reached to unbutton his shirt. Loophole by loophole, his magnificent chest was revealed. Nash was blond, so his skin held more pink than Master Eyries’s flesh tone, but when she compared the two men, Nash won by a landslide. She supposed what made the other man so appealing was his costume and his tan, but truthfully, she preferred Nash. He kind of looked like Daniel Craig’s James Bond, and she’d always wondered what it meant to be a Bond Girl.
Hereafter [McKnight, Perth & Daire 2] (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 9
