Lover Enraptured: Thieves of Aurion, Book 2 (21 page)

She mentally rewound her words, trying to decipher what she’d said to spook him. “I’m only playing with you. Why are you so upset?”

He snatched the towel and secured it around his waist. “I’m not. It’s nothing.” Avoiding her gaze, he planted a kiss on her forehead that was far too chaste for the intimacy they’d recently shared. “Why don’t you change and I’ll go check on our dinner?”

Perplexed and boasting an awful heaviness anchored in her chest, she watched him exit the room. It wasn’t until she loosened the lacings on her dress that the answer came to her, loud and painfully clear.

She’d used the word tied. That’s what had him as white as a sheet. The prospect that a bond—even a sexual one—might be forged between them terrified him.

Nothing had changed. He still ran from the idea of a forever with her.

She would never have the whole of his heart. Despite the continual evidence she faced regarding that fact, it still felt like a sucker punch to her soul.

Chapter Eighteen

Jerrick glanced at the time readout on his micro com and hauled in a deep breath in an attempt to rein in his impatience. “Avi, we need to hit the road soon if we’re going to make it to the club by seven thirty.”

A shuffling noise floated from the other side of her bedroom door. “I’m almost done.”

“I’ve never understood why it takes you females so bloody blasted long to get ready. Surely it can’t take more than a second or two to drag a comb through your hair.”

“Gods, you’re such a male.”

“Yeah, have been for a while. Even have the equipment to prove it.” He reached down and adjusted himself.

It was at that precise moment Avi swung the door open. Unmindful of the fact he had his damn junk in his hands, he gaped at her.

Rather than her standard modest style, her hair curled around her shoulders in lush, wanton waves. She’d done something different with her eyes too. The lashes were darker than usual, thick and full and rimmed with a smoky purple color that gave her a sultry look. Even with the addition of her glasses, she resembled a naughty minx hell-bent on seduction. Her full, pillowy lips held a hint of pearly gloss that made him think about other sexier white stuff he’d enjoyed seeing on her mouth last night.

Not the least bit ashamed about that thought, he continued visually devouring her. She’d made a dramatic alteration on the hem of the dress. It barely hit mid-thigh. If she bent over, every man lucky enough to be within viewing distance would get the sight of his life. But in the end, her shoes were the most devastating to his sanity. They were high-heeled, with slinky straps that snaked partway up her toned calves. He’d always had a thing for sexy shoes. And right now he couldn’t shake the image of those heels up around his ears while he fucked her slow and deep.

“You—” He stopped and cleared his throat of the gravelly lust log-jamming it before trying again. “You look different.”

“I decided to spice things up a bit. If I’m going to play the part of a dominatrix, the least I can do is properly resemble one.” She twirled. “What do you think?”

I think I’m going to lose my mind before this night is over.
Wisely retaining that observation to his private musings, he held out her cloak. “Damn good thing I got this for you. Without it you’d freeze in an instant.”

“Is that your way of telling me the dress is too short?”

“There’s no such thing as a too-short dress.”

Awarding him a droll look, she slipped her arms into the cloak and bundled it up. “I’m ready if you are.”

“I was ready half an hour ago.”

“Really? Only half an hour ago? I was expecting you to say yesterday.”

He fetched the Racer’s keys from his pocket and watched her strut down the hall ahead of him. “You’ve been extra sassy today.”

“And?”

“I’m wondering the reason for it.”

“Why do you always suspect there’s a motive behind everything?”

He grunted. “Because nine times out of ten, there is.”

“Maybe I’m a changed woman, and this is the new me. Extra sassy and consequences be damned.”

He scratched his jaw, unable to puzzle out her strange mood. “Changed woman?”

“Yes, now that I’ve finally accepted reality.”

There was something in her tone that provoked a sliver of foreboding through him. “And what reality is that?”

“No matter how much I might want it, we’re never going to be together.”

The hollow finality in her tone riled queasiness in his gut. There were a million reasons why he should be grateful that she’d come to her senses, but damn if he couldn’t latch on to a single one of them.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“I thought you’d be jumping up and down with joy over the news. Now you don’t have to worry about me pining away over you for the rest of my life.”

He swallowed past the misery in his throat. “I never thought you’d do that.”

“I did.” She jogged down the steps, leaving her words arrowed through his heart.

Less than twenty minutes later they strode through the entrance of the club. While the attendant collected their coats, Jerrick eyed Avily’s profile. The ride over she’d been chatty but closed off at the same time—as if she were slowly locking herself away from him piece by piece. The notion constricted his chest, adding a painful pressure behind his sternum. He didn’t want this casual distance from her.

He didn’t want her indifference.

It’d kill him.

“Avi.” The slight crack in his voice made him wince.

“Hmm?” She started to turn toward him the same instant Francesca entered the room from the opposite hall.

The skirt of her filmy, sapphire silk gown rippling in a fluid flow with her steps, the mistress approached them, bearing a smile reserved exclusively for Avily. As if his evening wasn’t shitastic enough, he got to look forward to the next several hours of the woman’s bristling hostility.

It seemed to be a cosmic joke continuously played on him. His own people—the law-abiding ones, anyway—snubbed him for his chosen profession. And the humans despised him for being a member of an asshole race who controlled the planet.

He couldn’t fucking win.

Francesca extended her hand to both of them in regal welcome. “I’m glad you could make it tonight.”

Avily ran nervous fingers through her hair. “I apologize for being late.”

Francesca waved her off with a dismissive flick of the wrist. “There are a few others who’ve yet to arrive. Come, I’ll introduce you to those who are here.”

The second Francesca turned her back, Avily shot him an uncertain glance. That tiny return to her old self might as well have been a benediction from the gods. She needed him. His world was a step closer to being right again.

Leaning down, he brushed his lips to her ear. “You did fantastic last night. You’ll knock this round out of the park.”

The trepidation faded from her eyes, and she nodded. Returning her attention to Francesca, Avily hurried after the mistress. They entered a small parlor that adjoined the miniature ballroom. Roughly a dozen people packed the space. Some stood conversing while others lounged on the various chaises and chairs, partaking in the cocktails and hors d’oeuvres being passed by a muscle-bound server wearing nothing but an animal-print thong. Several of the Doms in the room made a point of caressing the man’s ass while he waited on them.

A subtle shift in the air must have alerted everyone to their presence. Every eye turned in their direction. Feeling like a bug under a compu-scope, Jerrick calmly took their stares in stride. A part of him was thankful to be the one on the receiving end of their speculative gazes. Because gods knew he’d pummel every man in the room to within an inch of their life if they’d treated Avi to the same fondle-fest they’d bestowed upon the half-naked server.

“I would like to introduce you all to our newest members.” Francesca’s voice rang overly loud in the deathly still room. She gestured grandly to Avily. “This is Mistress Scarlett, recently relocated from Helias. Please properly bid her welcome, along with her sub, Bill.”

One by one, the members broke off from their groups to introduce themselves. Most of the pairings were as Jerrick had expected. Male Doms with their female subs. There was one token male couple and a beautiful blonde with her equally stunning raven-haired female submissive who insisted on staring at the floor the entire time her master spoke to Avily.

Once the last introduction was made, Avi escorted him to the far corner of the room where the server was handing Francesca a flute brimming with a frothy pink liquid. Stretching onto her tiptoes, Avi whispered near his ear. “I feel like I just endured the biggest test of my life.”

It was a welcome thought, considering he had a sinking suspicion the real test had yet to come.

Francesca spotted their approach and patted the available space on the chaise she occupied. Dutifully accepting the invitation, Avily sat and carefully crossed her legs while Jerrick kneeled beside her. At least the carpeted floor was a bloody sight more comfortable than the marble in the bar area.

“You must try my house punch. The recipe is an old one handed down from my mother’s side. But I warn you, the kick might be more than you’re used to.”

Avi snorted. “Clearly you’ve never seen me put away a six-pack of Larry the Fairy.”

Francesca’s lips twitched. “I confess to being a fan of Larry’s myself. But I still think you’ll be pleasantly surprised by our punch.”

“Well, I’m the adventurous sort, so count me in.” Avily took a delicate sip from the flute the server handed her and murmured her pleasure. “It’s divine.” She began to hand the glass to him for a taste, but Francesca halted her with two fingers pressed to Avi’s hand.

“Forgive my house rules, but that is not how the subs under Rapture’s roof are permitted to take their drink.”

Avi frowned. “I don’t follow.”

A chuckle came from the ginger-haired Dom to the left of them. “If you will permit a demonstration, Mistress Dominitri?”

Francesca waved graciously, and the man caught his female submissive’s eye with a heated look. She quickly unbuttoned his shirt, and he stretched backward on the chase while she dribbled the fruity aperitif along his torso, her nimble tongue darting to catch the alcohol before it dripped from his skin.

Avi blinked. “You must spend a fortune on your upholstery cleaning bills.”

A laugh skipped from Francesca. “Small price to pay for such a delightful way to partake in drink, wouldn’t you say?” She motioned to the flute clutched between Avi’s fingers. “The choice is yours where you wish him to lap it from.”

Sweet gods.
This could get interesting. And likely result in a killer case of blue balls for him.

Avi’s hold on the flute tightened until the fragile glass threatened to splinter beneath her grip. Apparently realizing she was seconds away from demolishing Mistress Dominitri’s stemware, she cautiously settled it on the ground near her foot. “Think I’ll make him wait for a taste.”

He didn’t know whether to sigh in relief or sob in a self-pity fest.

Her eyes sparkling with humor and consideration, Francesca studied Avi. “You’re not at all like any master I’ve known.”

Oh shit.
Heart thudding, he silently willed Avi to stay strong and focused. The last thing they needed was her buckling to the squeeze Francesca was placing on their alias.

“I’ve never been a follower of the crowd. I believe in doing things my own way.”

Good girl.
He was so damn proud of her in that moment he could have kissed her feet. Of course, not like that’d look weird considering where they were.

“Hmm, that is a wise philosophy to uphold.” Francesca rubbed a finger over her chin. “My Casper was similar in his outlook.”

Adrenaline kicking into gear, he subtly nudged Avi’s leg. Fortunately her head was already in the game. Tucking a loose tendril behind her ear, she leaned closer to Francesca, adopting a conspiratorial air. “It was probably unusual for a man of his station to be a sub, particularly to a woman.”

“Not at all. I’ve often found that the men holding a great deal of power and responsibility are those who most long to retire it at the end of the day, particularly in the bedroom.” Francesca cocked her head to the side. “No, what I was referring to was his overall philosophy on life. It colored all he touched. All he believed in. Not everyone proscribed to his way of thinking. They didn’t understand much less appreciate the scope of his brilliance.” The taint of sadness once again clouded Francesca’s gaze, and she fell into a brooding silence.

“I’m sorry. I know his absence must pain you horribly,” Avi said softly.

“It’s as if the one thread keeping my soul intact has been ripped away from me.” Francesca sucked in a deep breath, her melancholy dissipating as she peered at Avi. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. You must think me terribly depressing.”

Avi’s eyes were moist. “No, I think you’re sad and lonely, and that makes me ache for you.”

Francesca smiled and petted Avi’s hand as if she were the one who required consoling. “You are a sensitive soul. Casper would have adored you. But come, we are not here to speak of sadness. It would be a blasphemy within a house reserved for only pleasure.” She picked up Avi’s unfinished punch and placed the flute in her hand. “Drink up, because the party has already started without us.” Her laugh husky, Francesca gestured to the room at large.