Chapter Fourteen

After yet another wrong turn down a dark hallway, her heart pounding, Tori finally located the round room that served as lobby and central meeting place. Turning in a circle and wishing it weren’t so hell’s bells dark in here, she tried to guess which of the many doorways led outside. Hang Diana for leaving her alone like this.

Part of her wanted to leave and take a cab home.

But part of her urged that she be bold and stay. She’d learned so much about herself here tonight.

She wanted anonymous sex with multiple strangers, that’s what she’d learned. That she was a bloody nympho!

No. That was not it, at all. Hiding in the shadows by a tall plant, she breathed deeply, trying to calm down.

She’d learned that leaving Rupert was absolutely the right decision. From now on, no one would tell her how to behave, in or out of the bedroom. She would explore her sexual needs any way she pleased.

And right now, the idea of exciting, kinky sex pleased her very much. Not with strangers. But if she made an effort, got out of her quiet corner—literally and figuratively—she could find a lover who wanted the same things.

But for now, she needed to find the way outside.

She squared her shoulders, left the security of her tall plant, and marched across the Serengeti to a shut door. She yanked it open and stepped with gusto through the door into a—

What was this? The small chamber wasn’t the Jambo, but it was just as bloody dark as everywhere else. Damn it all! She needed a light to find her way out of here. And where in bloody hell was Diana?

Then the room began to move. Shite! She was in an elevator.

The second the movement stopped, she pushed on the door and stepped through.

She instantly froze.

And gasped.

She swiftly turned to go back into the elevator, but the door wouldn’t open. It had left her behind.

Turning back around, she stared at the unbelievable sight before her. Everywhere in the large room there were naked or nearly naked people restrained on weird pieces of equipment. Moans and shrieks rent the air as the hapless victims were tortured by leather-clad tormentors wielding whips and other instruments of pain.

Her chest locked, and she couldn’t breathe as cold fingers of fear tickled down her spine. Unable to stand there a second longer, she stumbled forward on unstable stilettos, searching for the stairs she knew must lead out of the dungeon.

Panting, practically sprinting, she turned a corner and ran smack into a solid presence. She tripped and would have fallen, but strong arms caught her, lifted her back to standing…but didn’t release her.

A tingle of awareness skittered across her skin and fluttered in her belly. Then lower.

It was him. The handsome young man who’d watched her dance.

His voice, low and husky, barely audible above the din in the dungeon, whispered across her. “Come dance with me.”

The simmer in her belly ignited, suffusing her body with heat. She clenched her thighs together against the unexpected lust.

“I was searching for you,” he murmured.

Unaccountably, she swayed toward him, a total stranger. Within her, she recognized and acknowledged their visceral connection. Her silent admirer. Her predatory hunter. He’d come to claim her.

Her.

She trembled with acceptance. And desire. Astounded, she never in her wildest dreams would have thought she’d ever want sex with a complete stranger…but in this moment she might agree to just about anything with this mysterious, sexy man.

It’s only a dance. Nothing else is going to happen.

She gazed into his dark, intense eyes and nodded. Just once.

He took her hand, and she let him lead her to the stairs and up out of this hell of pain and pleasure. She couldn’t fathom how such things could bring pleasure to the recipient, but the erotic moans she’d heard told her it was true.

Once they reached the ground floor, he led her to the disco and into the deep, swirling, gyrating mass of bodies on the dance floor. Reaching the center, he released her hand, and they stood there looking into each other’s eyes through the privacy and safety of their masks. He was so tall, her high heels were not enough to bring her to his eye level. She felt delicate and feminine before him.

She started to dance by swaying sedately back and forth, but he would have none of it. He flipped her around and stepped up behind her, his hands sliding around her waist. Embarrassment flared when his groin pressed against her arse, his hard bulge nestling into the crack between her buttocks as he bucked to the beat.

She froze. Disbelieving. She was letting a stranger rub his erection on her.

Her body begged for more, but her scruples objected. Unsure what to do, she stood there like a statue.

“Let go. Enjoy,” he whispered in her ear, his tone firm and oddly authoritative.

She settled. He’d freed her from needing to choose. He’d freed her from herself.

She opened her eyes to the pleasure all around her, and again the club’s decadence and freedom beckoned to her, inviting her to join the mating dance of gyrating hips and twerking asses, sweating bodies and hungry eyes, and most of all, of desire and fulfillment. The place and the people around her invited her to experience human connection on a primal level.

She was desperate to accept, desperate to lose herself in an erotic maelstrom.

She twerked her ass against his erection. Once. Then again. Then faster. Back and forth, she rocked to the music. Growing bolder, she varied the tempo and pressure in an effort to feel more of his bulging cock. The pounding rhythm moved her, and she became lost to the dance, and the beat, and the feel of him hugging her from behind.

Her mystery man slowed the tempo and pulled more of her body against him. One of his hands slid up to press in the valley between her breasts. Leaning her head back onto his shoulder, she finally relaxed fully, giving herself over to his lead. It felt good. Wildly erotic. And completely unlike anything she’d ever experienced with Rupert.

Her hunter eased away and turned her to face him. Pulling her close, one of his legs slid between her thighs. His large erection, hot and hard against her belly, filled her with matching lust. For once she wasn’t disconcerted, wasn’t intimidated. She intentionally ground her pelvis into him, and his answering groans of pleasure thrilled her. His raw hunger thrilled her. It filled a hole in her psyche that had yearned for raw masculine adoration.

Suddenly, he pushed them apart. His jaw clenched and his muscles bunching, he looked like he was in pain. Her ripening awareness told her he was fighting the need to come right then. A new sense of her female power filled her.

She became the predator and he the prey, and she grinned up at him.

He stood there, his chest rising and falling, fighting for control of his body. She stared into his eyes, nearly black in the dark room. They watched her through his mask as he leaned infinitesimally closer, tilting his head. She swayed toward him, too. His arms slid around her body, and he pulled her into his embrace. His mouth lowered, and he kissed her right there in the middle of the dance floor.

She melted. His warm lips caressed hers, and her thrumming arousal blossomed, like a flower spreading open to the sun. Her lips parted on a soft moan, and he plunged his tongue into her, the tangy taste of him intoxicating. The barest hint of masculine cologne, somehow familiar but also fresh, enveloped her like a velvet cocoon. Her hands, pressing and creeping up his chest and around his shoulders, worshipped his hard planes and solid muscles.

She wanted more. She longed to feel bare skin against bare skin. Press intimate flesh to intimate flesh. Leave nothing unexplored, unloved. Wild and insane, she lost any sense of time. She might have stood there forever, mouth locked to his, but slowly he raised his head, ending the kiss.

Her masked man stepped back and released her. He was panting hard.

Reaching up, he ran a frustrated hand through his hair, while he stared at her with desire…and something else, too. Oddly, it looked almost like confusion. Then he seemed to come to a decision, and he leaned in to yell over the loud music. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Feeling bereft at the loss of his warmth against her body, she nodded yes, and he took her hand to lead her from the dance floor.

Shocked, she realized that she’d come very close to dragging him off the floor herself. Dragging him to one of those private rooms to fuck.

How could she be this uninhibited with a total stranger? Was it her mask, or his pursuit, that had freed her? Something niggled at the back of her mind, as if there might be a different reason for her lowered inhibition…

He bought her a vodka martini, and they settled onto a lounge chair for two in a dark corner. Neither talked. It seemed enough to lie there next to each other, quietly sipping their drinks. His thigh pressed against hers, and she couldn’t resist touching the rock-hard muscle, so firm it confirmed that he was either young or in incredible shape.

His sharply indrawn hiss made her smile. Even through his mask, he still looked like he wanted to devour her. Reaching over, he carefully took her drink away to place it on a side table. As if in a trance, she fell into the depths of his intense azure eyes. He moved to lean over, pulling her down until they were nearly horizontal on the chaise. His warm fingers traced small circles on her shoulder, sending shivers down her body. His head lowered…

He was going to kiss her again.

She yearned for another taste. Mewling through parted lips, she let her eyes drift shut.

Cradling her head in his hand, he kissed her quietly in a slow, sensuous exploration of her mouth. He took his time tasting her lips, lightly teasing them with his tongue until she sighed into him. The exact opposite of his wild passion on the dance floor, this kiss seduced her with sweet tenderness. He trailed kisses around her face and down her neck, as if he wanted to learn all of her with just his lips and tongue.

She floated on mesmerizing desire, weightless and free. Moaning and needy, she wanted his lips on her everywhere. His warm hand on her bare thigh pressed closer to the part of her that ached most for his touch. His fingers slid under the hem of her dress. Had he tried to go higher, in that moment she would have let him without the slightest hesitation. He kissed her on the lips again as his seeking fingers teased her inner thigh. She shivered at the delicious sensations building in her and opened her thighs for him. She opened her mouth to beg him to touch her—

“Oh! There you are.” The familiar voice was both loud and shocked.

“Mmm.” She couldn’t muster anything more, lying tangled with this stranger, his warm lips still on her skin. She wanted so much more.

“Come on,” urged Diana, giving Tori a nudge with her hand. “It’s late, and you need to get me home.”

Her mystery man pulled away to look up at her friend, leaving Tori adrift. Diana stood over them, hands on hips.

Tori wanted to tell her friend to go away, but her stranger quickly shifted to a sitting position.

There was nothing left to do but sit up, as well—and glare at her friend.

“Well?” asked Diana.

Tori glanced at the guy sitting next to her, his lust evident. The sensual enchantment began to fade. Appalling awareness grew within her. She’d allowed a total stranger to have vast liberties with her person. Thank god her friend had arrived in time to stop something she would have regretted later.

She moved to get up, but on a whim, she leaned over and gave him a quick, spontaneous kiss. “Thank you,” she whispered.

She really didn’t want to have sex with a stranger, but this gorgeous man’s pursuit had soothed her wounded spirit like a healing salve.

She rose and started to walk away with Diana, but her masked man yelled over the music, “Wait. Can we meet again next Saturday?”

She looked to Diana, her only avenue into the club, and her friend nodded.

Pulling his mobile from his pocket, he asked, “What’s your name?”

She hesitated, not wanting to reveal her identity.

Diana answered for both of them. “Hi, I’m Sandy, and this is…Candi.”

Tori snorted at the juvenile alias, but he grinned. “Why don’t you call me…Randy?”

They all laughed at the silliness of it. Tori took his phone and entered her number, grateful she had an unlisted one with a standard anonymous greeting. She handed it back to him, and Randy leaned over and gave her a peck on the lips.

He whispered in her ear, “I look forward to next week.” Then he turned and sauntered away.

A few minutes later, inside Diana’s limo with the privacy window up, Tori turned on her friend and berated her for leaving her alone for so long.

Next, she ranted at Diana for interrupting her tryst.

Last, she complained about the awful alias.

Diana listened politely and apologized repeatedly, saying she hadn’t meant to be gone more than a few minutes.

Abruptly, Tori reversed course, grabbing Diana and hugging her. “Thank you. That was the most fun I’ve had in a very long time!”

And she meant it.