by Roni Loren
She started walking anyway. Anything to get her far from that hallway. Her phone buzzed and she glanced at the screen. Dmitry had sent a few messages and there was another from BigMan telling her that he demanded she speak with him tonight.
What the hell? The blocking system on the site was turning out to be a major fail. She deleted that one and checked Dmitry’s. His last read, “You OK?”
She quickly typed as she walked.
Lenore: Yes. Sorry. Work.
Dmitry: No problem.
No problem. She wished. She had nothing but problems right now. She tossed her phone into her purse and strode forward, looking to get lost in the crowd. Until she could find Grace, she needed to blend in. The guy in the hallway probably hadn’t seen her all that well. She’d been backlit. Her face should’ve been in the dark, her body a silhouette. But she wasn’t going to take any chances. She reached up and pulled the clip out of her messy twist, letting her brown hair fall loose around her shoulders and changing up the outline of what he would’ve seen.
She inhaled through her nose, trying to calm herself. She should be okay. The party was crowded and blending in shouldn’t be a problem.
She moved through the main part of the room, grabbing a glass of wine off a passing waiter’s tray and scanning faces for Grace. Usually her friend was hard to miss, but Cora didn’t see her blond head anywhere. Dammit.
She spotted a table in the farthest spot from the hallway. Two women were sitting there, but there was a chair free. She headed that way and retrieved her phone from her purse so she could text Grace.
The women looked up when she reached their table. Cora smiled. “Hi, do you mind if I sit?”
The older of the two women waved a hand. “Not at all, please do. We were just about to go to the bar anyway.”
“Oh, you don’t have to get up. I—”
But they were already up and gathering their things.
God. She was apparently wearing people repellant tonight. She resisted doing a sniff test to make sure her deodorant was working and then plopped down in one of the chairs. The last thing she wanted to do was sit at a table alone again, but she needed to text Grace, and standing around with no one to talk to looked even more conspicuous. She set down her wine so she could type two-thumbed.
Cora: Where r u??? #911
The message sent, but as Cora stared at the screen, no little dots popped up to indicate that Grace was responding. “Come on, where the hell are you?”
She opened up her favorites list, ready to call Grace until she answered, but before she could hit the button to dial, a hand planted on the table right next to Cora’s wine, rattling the glass.
She startled but didn’t look up. That hand was all she could focus on. Because somehow, she knew. Tan skin and long fingers, the edge of a colorful tattoo peeking out from a shirt cuff.
Cora prayed for a trap door. An eject button. An invisibility cloak.
None appeared.
In one fluid motion, the chair across from her was pulled out and dragged closer. Her guest slid into the spot. Uninvited. Unapologetic. His mere presence demanded she respond. There was a sense of . . . provocation. Almost a dare. Cora forced herself to look up.
Shit. The curse almost slipped out.
It was worse than she’d thought—the looking. The guy could’ve just stepped off the red carpet. Charcoal suit, plum-colored T-shirt, a mess of perfectly styled jet-black hair, and a face that was so beautiful it’d almost seem feminine if not for the hard angle of his jaw and the shadow of stubble. This was a guy who knew he looked good and wasn’t afraid to use it like a weapon.
He gave her an unreadable smile. “This seat taken?”
Her throat felt like it’d narrowed to nothing, but she forced words out. “Seems a little late to ask.”
The man’s coal eyes sparkled, like he was in on some eternal joke. And he was. He knew. Somehow in this sea of people he’d picked out the girl from the dark. He knew she’d just watched him get off in the hallway, and she couldn’t play it off.
“I’m sorry.” She blurted—too loud, too sharp. One hundred percent without grace. Fantastic.
He leaned back in his chair, grabbed a drink off a passing waiter’s tray, and hooked an ankle over his knee, looking like he could literally be comfortable anywhere with anyone. “You were there first. Maybe I should apologize. Though, what you were doing all alone in the dark has got me curious.”
She cleared her throat, trying to tap the brakes on her body’s railroading response to this man. He was a stranger, but they’d shared this intensely sexual moment. Her wires were crossed, her body confused. “I was just trying to find a quiet place to make a call. But I . . . couldn’t get a good signal. Then . . . you walked in with your . . . a woman.”
He smiled and his gaze strayed toward the bar. Cora couldn’t help but follow it. It’s like he’d put his hand on her head to make it turn. At the bar, a woman with a long ponytail and blue maxi dress was in the arms of a man with salt-and-pepper hair. They were kissing—a little too passionately for this kind of party.
And Cora couldn’t help it—she had the thought. Can he taste this man’s come on his girlfriend’s lips? The thought tripped a wire inside her. One it shouldn’t. Her cheeks burned. “If you’re worried that I’m going to say anything, I’m not. Not my business.”
“You’re right. It’s not.” Her companion looked back to her, a secret smile playing around the edges of his mouth. “But it wouldn’t matter if you did. He already knows. He was the one who set it up.”
Cora’s lips parted. On some level, she knew that kind of thing happened. She was no innocent. But she couldn’t hide her knee-jerk reaction or shake off the sense that this man was toying with her. “Then why did you come over here? If you’re not worried about me outing you?”
He frowned, a line appearing between his dark brows. “I don’t recognize you. Have you been to one of Grant’s parties before?”
She straightened. Technically, she wasn’t crashing this thing. Grace’s boss had been the one to get the invite and had let Grace come on his behalf with a plus one. But Cora suddenly felt one hundred percent out of her league and like she’d been left out of some joke. Not that she was going to let this guy know that. “No. Haven’t had time to get to one before now.”
“Well, then I’m over here because things seen out of context by those who don’t know what they’re looking at can be misconstrued and get people in trouble. From the outside looking in, what happened could look . . . non-consensual. I needed to make sure you understood.”
“You needed to cover your ass. Got it,” she said, unsure why it came out with a biting edge to it. “You’re good.”
His eyebrow arched and he shifted forward in his seat, bracing his forearms on his thighs and pinning her with that gaze. “Plus, I thought I should know the name of the woman who chose to stay and watch while another woman sucked me off.”
The words hit her like a stun gun. Zap! And all she could hear in her head was him saying, Suck it.
Suck. It.
She should be offended, disgusted. They should not be having this conversation. Instead, her heart tried to pound out of her chest and her skin went tingly. “You don’t need my name.”
“Mmm.” He nodded. “True. But you want to tell me anyway. Just like you wanted to stay longer and watch it all.”
The words were so self-assured that she would’ve laughed if they hadn’t rung through her like the truest of truths. “I—”
“Cora! There you are!”
The familiar voice came from behind her, snapping Cora out of the spell she’d fallen under. Grace.
Mr. Exhibitionist gifted Cora with a smirk and leaned back out of her space.
Grace swooped around on her left, her eyes meeting Cora’s, question marks there. Cora knew this look. It was the do-yo
u-need-me-to-rescue-you-or-should-I-be-your-wing-woman? look.
Cora bolted up out of her chair. “Hey, oh my God, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I needed to talk to you about. . . . that thing.” Her voice was so high and unlike her normal tone that she may as well have sucked helium.
Sucked. The word twined around her girl parts, set things aflame.
Fuck.
She grabbed Grace’s hand and sent an over-the-shoulder look to the man who’d knocked her completely on her ass, but he was already getting to his feet.
He tucked his hands in his pockets, and though there was an affable expression on his face, his gaze held something intent when it met hers. “Nice meeting you, Cora.”
For a second, she didn’t know how he knew her name, but then she remembered Grace had said it. And before she could respond, he turned on his heel and strolled back into the crowd.
Grace watched him go and then spun around, putting her back to him. She gave Cora this wide-eyed look of wonder. “Holy shit, who the hell was that? And why did you let me rescue you from him?” She peered over her shoulder for one last look. “Jesus. He’s like . . . whoa.”
Cora let out a long breath, one she may have been holding since Mystery Man had sat down. But she couldn’t stop watching him walk away. The man could wear a suit. “I don’t know his name. It’s . . . a long story.”
Grace shook her head. “Not long enough. Tell me you gave him your card.”
“I . . . forgot.”
“Cora! You need to go—”
She grabbed Grace’s arm before she could go after the guy. “No. Stop. I’m done.”
The hope on Grace’s face crashed into a petulant scowl. But it wasn’t going to work this time. There was no way Cora was willingly having another conversation with that man. She’d barely survived the first. Talk about bringing a knife to a gunfight.
Hell, she hadn’t even had a knife.
She’d brought a spork.
Online, she was daring. She was kinky. She was brave. But tonight had proven what she’d always known. She was no Lenore.
And never would be. She had no idea how to handle men like that or how to play in those shark-infested waters.
She pulled out her phone and messaged Dmitry.
Back to her reality. The virtual one.
The safe one.
THREE
Cora waved as Grace drove off and left her standing in her driveway. The neighborhood was quiet at this hour, and the porch light on Cora’s duplex had burned out again, so it was just her and the moonlight. The silence was like a balm to her nerves after the loud party and the pop music Grace had been blasting in the car during the hour-long ride from the winery back into Dallas. She wished she could sit out here and absorb it for a while, but that would be a little crazy at midnight.
Cora dug in her purse for her keys and headed up the walk. Dmitry had told her that he’d be up late and had a small window of time to play tonight, so she didn’t want to miss that chance. After what she’d witnessed at the party, her body was still on a hair trigger, and she could use a little bit of his brand of relaxation. Anything to distract her from the forbidden images that kept replaying in her head. Images of the man from the hallway sending the other woman away and inviting Cora into that darkened corner with him. Of his hands and those tattooed arms holding her in place. Of Dmitry joining them and doing all those things he’d said in his texts. Reality and fantasy merging and putting her on her knees, captive for the both of them.
God. She shook her head. She really had gotten herself wound up tonight. Her fantasies were venturing into crazy town. She needed an orgasm, a shower, and some sleep. Stat.
She jogged up the sagging front steps of the house, careful not to make too much noise. Faint blue-gray TV light flashed behind her neighbors’ curtains, so Josh and Carlos were probably still up, but she didn’t want to risk bothering them.
She made it to her door with only the squeak of a floorboard. But once she got there, the keyhole was nearly impossible to see in the dark. She stabbed around with the key a few times. It was like trying to thread a needle with her eyes closed. “Goddamn piece of shit. Come on—”
But she didn’t get the rest out. One second her lips were poised for another curse, and the next a hand was clamped over them.
The shock of it jolted through her like lightning, making everything freeze in some suspended state of disbelief. In that blink of inaction, her attacker’s other arm wrapped around her, trapping her back against him.
Her brain finally kicked in at that. Cora screamed behind the hand, and she swung her leg out, banging her foot against her door in a futile attempt to make noise. All her childhood nightmares flooded her. Boogeymen. Kidnappers. Killers.
“You’re just causing more trouble for yourself,” the deep voice said behind her as he dragged her backward and out of reach of the door. “Calm down.”
Cora screamed again, but the sound was muffled and useless. She tried to force the panic down, tried to focus. But it was like a giant swirling ball of fear knotting around her thoughts. All she could think about was the Taser her mother had given her. The damn thing was in her purse, but she couldn’t move her arms to get to it.
His grip tightened. “I told you we needed to talk. But you didn’t answer me tonight. What was I supposed to do? You tease me and then ignore me? It’s not nice to ignore a master, Lenore. I told you I would punish you. Now I can do it in person.”
Lenore? The name screamed through her head like a siren wail.
Oh, shit. Shit! This was someone from the game. Dmitry? No. She hadn’t teased and ignored him. BigMan. It had to be. He was the only person she’d ignored tonight.
Her mind raced, things crashing together inside her head. This couldn’t be happening. The site was anonymous. She didn’t tell anyone her real information. She was so careful.
But she couldn’t think about any of that now. She needed to free herself, and her writhing and screaming wasn’t working. Based on the thick arm wrapped around her, he hadn’t been lying with his screen name. She tried to think of some of the self-defense moves her mother had taught her. There were ways to get free of someone bigger than you, but she couldn’t think, couldn’t remember. And with his hand over her mouth, she couldn’t even talk her way out of it.
So she did the only thing she thought might work.
She let the fight go out of her body and sagged like a sack of stones in his arms. He was here for Lenore. She was supposed to be submissive. She prayed he would buy it.
“That’s it,” he said, his words gentling. “I know you like these kinds of games, but we can’t be so loud, babe. That could get us in trouble. Your neighbors won’t get it.”
She nodded enthusiastically behind his hand. Yes. I’m totally on board with you, psycho asshole.
“Do you think you can be a good girl?”
Instead of screaming again like she wanted to, she whimpered. The sound was pathetic and pitiful. It made bile rise in the back of her throat. But she could feel some of the tension in his body give way. It was working.
“Shh, girl, it’s okay. I know you’re sorry. I’m going to show you how to make it up to me. I know what you need.” He pressed his hips into her, letting her feel his erection. “And I can’t wait.”
She closed her eyes, willing herself not to lose it completely or vomit behind his hand. Her entire body trembled from the effort of trying to appear calm.
“I’m going to move my hand now,” he said against her ear. “You know we’re just playing now. You don’t have to be scared. You don’t need to scream. We’re just going to have a fun night for real this time. I’m going to give you what you want.”
She nodded her promise. But the second he moved his hand away from her mouth, she screamed like she was on fire.
“Shit!” His hand instantly clamp
ed back down, but it’d been enough. Within a few seconds, her neighbor’s door flew open and Josh came charging out in his boxers, blond hair wild. Carlos was right behind him, mostly dressed and carrying a baseball bat.
“What the fuck?” Josh’s eyes went wide as he took in the scene.
Cora yelled behind the guy’s hand.
“Oh, hell no.” Carlos charged forward, rage in his eyes and the bat looming in his hand. “You better get your fucking hands off her, asshole.”
Her captor dragged her back a step. “Whoa, man, chill out. It’s not what it looks like.” The voice behind her had changed completely—from deep and menacing to dude-bro speak. “We’re just playing a game. She’s in on it. Tell him, Lenore.”
The hand moved away from her mouth and words burst out of her in a rush. “Get the hell off me, you crazy fuck!”
“Lenore?” The guy’s voice turned confused.
“Her name’s not Lenore,” Josh said, stepping up behind Carlos and looking ready to throw down. “And if you don’t get your hands off her, my boyfriend’s going to show you how good his batting average is.”
“Damn straight,” Carlos said. “Your big-ass head will be an easy target.”
“Jesus. Calm the hell down.” The man released Cora at that and she nearly fell on her face as she bolted away from him in those godforsaken heels. She ran to the spot behind Carlos and then spun to face BigMan. The guy was a big dude. Beefy and barrel-chested and thick around the middle. But his face was young—a college-boy face. And he seemed . . . bewildered. He lifted his palms to them. “Look, bro. I think this is just a big misunderstanding. I wasn’t here to cause trouble. She wanted this. She’s got a safe word.”
“Call the cops, Josh,” Carlos barked.
But Cora reached out and put a hand on Josh’s arm. “Wait.”
