Six
I wonder how Suzanne is doing on her date,” Emily said.
“Better than we are, I’m sure.” Jane gazed at the hamburger and fries in front of her. With nothing to do on a Friday night, she and Auntie Em had ended up at an overcrowded diner.
Emily sucked on her milk shake. “Maybe we should go to a movie after this.”
“What do you want to see?”
Another hard suck. “I don’t know.”
“Me, neither. And will you quit with the milk shake. You look like you’re trying to give your straw a blow job.”
“It’s not my fault.” The brunette made a face. “It’s too thick.” She gave up and tried to stir it with a too-short spoon. “This is annoying.”
“So is this.” Jane pounded on the side of the ketchup bottle, but nothing came out. “Hasn’t this dive ever heard of those newfangled contraptions called squeeze jars?”
“What’s wrong with us?” Emily asked, then said, “Never mind. Dumb question. Those men are what’s wrong.”
Yes, Jane thought. Hot men. Powerful men. Wild, wild men. “I’m still having fantasies about wanting Marcus to whip me, and I’m terrified of letting something like that happen. Yet I’m desperate to call him.” She pounded on the bottle again. “How mixed up am I?”
“Do you know what I did this morning? I Googled the name ‘Damien.’”
“Just to be sure it doesn’t mean child of the devil?” A bloody-looking glob of ketchup finally came out. “So what does it mean?”
“It has Greek origins and it means ‘to tame.’” Emily crinkled her forehead. “That would have made me feel better if Damien hadn’t asked me if I thought the maiden in one of his paintings should tame the demon who was stalking her.” She leaned forward. “I don’t want him to be a demon, and I don’t want to be the innocent maiden he’s stalking.”
“I thought we already established that none of them is a real supernatural.”
“I’m still skeptical.”
Rather than rehash the same argument, Jane said, “I’d rather be with a demon who longs to be tamed than one who hypnotizes women into becoming his slaves.”
Emily frowned. “Does Marcus have a gentle side? Or did he seem dangerous the entire time you were in the dungeon with him?”
“He was both.”
“Do you think you’re going to call him?”
“Probably.”
“Once you do, it’ll be too late to turn back.”
“I know.” But she couldn’t think of another way to curb her craving for him. She’d gone to bed each night this week with him on her mind, and she woke up the same way.
Because there didn’t seem to be much else to say, Jane glanced out the window and gazed at the shrubbery alongside the building.
Then Emily popped off with an in-depth question. “What do you think would happen if one of us fell in love with one of them?”
Heaven have mercy. “Don’t even go there.”
“I was just wondering.”
“You shouldn’t be thinking about things like that.” Particularly when Jane was on the verge of calling Marcus. “We’ve been saddled with enough temptation.”
Way more than they could handle.
The dimly lit décor sparkled with lush woods and beveled mirrors. Centerpieces consisted of etched-glass jars, brimming with floating candles.
Suzanne and Jake sat side by side at a corner table, which he’d apparently requested because it was a lovely little linen-draped booth that provided a measure of privacy. But Suzanne was still anxious. She couldn’t stop thinking about dessert even though they were only on the salad.
She glanced around at the other patrons. Would any of them notice that something “funny” was going on later? That the couple in the corner was getting a tad too amorous?
“Have you ever done this here before?” she asked.
“Done what? Have dinner?”
“Don’t tease me. You know what I mean.”
“This is the first time I’ve been here. But I checked it out ahead of time. It seemed like a really nice place.”
It was, extremely nice. But it was also quiet and conservative. “We’re too noticeable, Jake.”
“What do you mean?”
“You with your Gothic vibe and me with my tight little cocktail dress. We don’t blend in.”
“It’ll be fine. This is L.A. We’re not the only noticeable people out there.”
Yes, but how many of them messed around in classy restaurants? While she stumbled through her salad, he ate his without a hitch.
She said, “At least we’re going to look stylish in our mug shots.”
He laughed. “You worry too much.”
“What we’re planning to do is called lewd and lascivious conduct.”
“I know what it’s called.” He sipped his lemon-garnished water. “But isn’t that term kind of redundant? Doesn’t lewd and lascivious mean the same thing? They’re both synonymous with wicked, lustful, unchaste . . .”
Suzanne dropped the conversation, and by time their entrees arrived, she did her best to behave as if she were on a proper date. She took ladylike bites of mushroom risotto and sipped courage-building chardonnay. Jake wasn’t drinking. Clearly, he didn’t need spirits to help him relax.
As candlelight flickered in his eyes and created a reflective spark, she asked, “Who started the rumor about you and Marcus and Damien?”
“I don’t know. But rumors are common at Aeonian. We’re not the only members accused of being real.”
“Yes, but in your case, it’s interesting how it’s only supposed to be one of you and not all three.”
“That’s because three is a symbolic number, and some people think that three demons would never appear together in public. According to the rumor, we would be too obvious in threes, and it would be impossible for us to hide who and what we are.”
“What’s so powerful about the number three?”
“The Holy Trinity, for one. For another, Jesus is said to have died at three p.m. and ascended into heaven on the third day.” Jake gave a slight pause. “Demonic rituals are often conducted at three a.m. because it’s the opposite of three p.m., and some people think that the veil between this world and the dark realm can be penetrated at that hour.”
“I suspect that the three of you wearing your contact lenses outside the club probably fuels the rumors, too.”
“You’re right, that’s part of it. But why spoil the mystery after all these years?”
Caught up in it, she asked, “What color are your eyes without them?”
“What color do you think they are?”
She studied his wildly handsome features. Blue would complement his natural blonde hair, but so would a light shade of brown, or green, or maybe a combination like hazel. “I don’t know.”
He didn’t say anything, and she became immersed in the quiet, wondering how it would feel to curl up beside him or put her head in the crook of his shoulder and fall asleep in his arms.
“What are you thinking about, Suzanne?”
She snapped out of the gentle musing. The last thing she needed was to have romantic fantasies about a man who’d called her his plaything.
“I’m thinking about dessert,” she said.
“Then finish your risotto so we can order it.”
She glanced at his plate. His pasta was almost gone. She ate a few more bites of her food. “What kind of dessert do you think we should get?”
“Chocolate soufflé. It’s served with crème fraîche ice cream and takes about fifteen minutes to make.”
“How do you know how long it takes?”
“I already checked this place out beforehand, remember?”
“Yes, of course.” He wouldn’t have left the most significant part of their meal to chance.
“Fifteen minutes is plenty of time for us to play around. More than enough for you to make me hard.”
She suspected that he was already half hard just thinking about it. Obeying his command, she finished her entree, and he smiled.
Soon their plates were cleared, and they ordered the chocolate soufflé. After the waiter departed, she looked around at the other patrons, as she’d done earlier.
“They don’t matter,” Jake told her.
“Yes, they do.” It was the other people’s proximity that made the game so powerful.
He scooted closer to her. “How we feel is all that matters.”
Wild? Decadent? Aroused? Beneath the table, she put her hand on his thigh and heard him suck in his breath. She inched closer to his fly.
“Keep going,” he whispered.
She fumbled with the button, and he reached down to help her, like a teenage boy encouraging a hesitant girl.
Together they unzipped his trousers, and he took his hand away, leaving the rest up to her. She worked her way down, getting past the hem of his shirt. He wasn’t wearing underwear and his pubic region was free of hair. She assumed that he kept it smooth for moments like this, making it easier for a woman to glide her hand along his skin. Within an instant, Suzanne connected with his cock.
As she’d suspected, he was half hard. He jerked his hips, and she traced the tip with her thumb. Nothing had ever seemed so wrong yet so dangerously right.
Voices hummed in the background. She heard the soft clink of glassware, too. At another table, someone was making an elegant toast. In the midst of it all, Suzanne curled her fingers around Jake’s penis and stroked him ever so lightly.
“Good girl,” he said, getting harder.
Furthering her quest, she increased the motion, and he took the opportunity to kiss her on the mouth. But he made it quick, leaving them both hungry for more.
Suddenly the waiter approached a nearby table, and her heart skipped a thousand beats. “What should I do?”
“Exactly what you’re doing. It feels good.”
She continued touching him, and as the waiter tended to other patrons, Jake pushed deeper into her hand, heightening the thrill.
“Are you going to fuck me tonight?” she asked.
“No, but I’m going to go home and jerk off while I’m thinking about you.”
Her pussy clenched. She thoroughly liked that idea. “For real?”
“Hell, yes.” He opened his legs a bit wider, giving her even more room under the table.
She noticed the maître d’ across the room. She saw a busboy refilling water glasses, too. Lord, this was dirty. And so damned crazy.
Jake said, “The minute I get home I’m going to shove my pants down and have at it. And I’m going to pretend that you’re there, getting ready to kneel over my face.”
She gripped him tighter. She longed to do exactly what he described.
He continued his erotic tale. “In my fantasy, you’ll peel off your panties and hike up your dress. Then you’ll straddle me and move closer, showing me your swollen little clit.”
With her hand wrapped firmly around his cock, and her cunt getting creamy, she looked into his fathomless eyes.
Heaven help her, but she liked playing around in public, especially while he spun wicked stories. She wanted to do this again and again, in all sorts of taboo locations. She gave his penis a hard tug, and he made a rough sound.
“You need to stop now, Suzanne.”
She didn’t want to let go. “Are you sure?”
His body nearly shuddered. “Positive.”
She released him, and they blinked at each other. Then he grabbed his water and took a long swig. While he got control of his senses and zipped his fly, she felt as sinful as the dessert that was still on its way.
The thick, rich soufflé that arrived just minutes later.