The Plume: The First Anthology (29 page)

Rex saluted Athena with his wine glass. "Just part of the business of making dreams come true."

"My dream hasn't come true!" Mark said, his voice rising. "She's mine! I won her fair and square, and you had no right to take her..."

Rex leaned close to the other man, silencing him with a look. "Let's remember who owns this place and who can expel members who don't perform. Let's remember that you did not deliver to her expectations. Let's remember that I'm trying to serve the greater good." Rex paused. "Let's remember just how many times I've whupped your ass. I could have taken her for myself. She begged me to punish her, but I found another solution."

Mark exhaled unhappily. "But..."

"Say
thank you, Master
."

Mark's gaze was mutinous. "But I don't even know what you did."

"Tess was kidnapped. She's at the stables, probably having the time of her life."

Mark sputtered in outrage. Rex drained his glass calmly and set it down on the bar. Tony glanced his way but he shook his head, declining a refill.

"You gave her to someone else?"

"Lots of someone elses," Rex agreed and heard Mark inhale. He planted a fingertip on Mark's chest. "And now you get to rescue her."

Mark frowned, his unhappiness clear. "I'm not sure I should bother. I mean, if this is what she wants, maybe I'm better off without her."

"No." Rex spoke firmly. "The way to save this situation is for you to retrieve what is rightfully yours." He arched a brow. "And make sure she understands that you are her master." He glanced at his watch. "I'll give you a ride. We leave in an hour so you can arrive under cover of darkness. You'll want to dress warmly, completely in black."

Mark's eyes brightened. "Like a ninja."

"Exactly. I'll ensure that you have the codes for the security system, so you'll have surprise on your side." He looked Mark right in the eye. "Just make it count."

He suspected by the other man's expression that he would. Mark nodded and strode away, intent upon being ready in time.

"Just doing what you do?" Athena asked, her expression coy.

"And what is that?"

"Making secret dreams come true."

"They'll both be happier this way."

"And what do you want for Christmas, Rex?" Athena said, her tone flirtatious. "I hear you've been very
very
good." She walked her fingertips up his arm, her smile turning provocative.

"Peace, love and understanding will work for me." Rex didn't meet Athena's gaze. She had no idea what he had in store for her this Christmas.

It was less than five minutes away.

Athena snorted. "I don't think so." She nodded at the two serving girls he'd been admiring. "I could have them gift-wrapped and delivered."

"No, thanks," Rex said. "I'll do my own shopping." He plucked a blank card from the holder on the bar, left expressly for member messages, and wrote a quick note. Then he beckoned to the darker of the two serving girls. "I need a pair of brandies delivered to Room Three, please," he said, pushing the card into the front of her corset.

She smiled, her dark eyes alight with understanding. "Anything else, sir?"

Her guess was wrong, though. The card had a later date and time, after she would be finished her shift and Rex would have solved the issue with Tess and Mark. Room Three was Athena's surprise. "Just your name."

"Rachel, sir."

"Rachel." Rex repeated, then tapped the card, his fingertip brushing against the smooth curve of her breast. "Bring your friend," he whispered, indicating the other serving girl and tapping the card once more.

Rachel's smile flashed and she spun as she turned away. The flare of her skirt hem gave Rex a wonderful view of the garters stretched over the ripe curves of her bare butt. Vanilla on bittersweet chocolate. He congratulated himself once again on the eye candy of the white fishnet stockings.

"You'll have no surprises for the big day," Athena complained from beside him.

"Don't be so sure of that."

"How are you going to finish in Room Three before you drive Mark on his ninja mission?" Athena frowned. "You don't even like the decor of Room Three."

"I'm not going to Room Three." Rex smiled at Athena, enjoying her confusion.

"I don't understand."

Rex leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "Merry Christmas, Athena. It's a bit early, but I know you're not a patient woman."

Athena's gaze flicked to the doors lining one side of the bar, the ones that opened into private rooms in differing decors. She reached across the bar and pulled up the reservations, using her access code, her eyes narrowing as she read. "It appears that I've booked Room Three for the entire evening."

"Naughty Athena." Rex winked at her. "And Santa remembered you, even so. What a guy."

She laughed throatily and shook a finger at him. "I'll believe that when I see it." She sobered and surveyed him. "But you won't be there?"

Rex shook his head. Athena sighed. She reached up and kissed his cheek, staring into his eyes for a moment before she stepped away.

"Well, curiosity won't kill this puss," she said. She intercepted Rachel and lifted the two snifters of brandy from the tray, then rapped on the door to Room Three. She cast Rex one last glance before she opened the door and stepped into the room. He wished he could see her expression once she realized who was waiting for her there.

A man couldn't have everything, though.

Chapter Three

Room Three was comparatively crude in decor, like a rustic cabin, and Athena knew that Rex preferred the luxurious comfort of the other available options. She wasn't nearly so picky – every situation and setting had some measure of appeal for Athena.

It was the partner – or partners – that made it all work for her.

She opened the door to Room Three with some trepidation, wondering what Rex had in store for her. If he knew her secret desire, he was well ahead of Athena – she didn't think she had any desires left unfulfilled after her years at the Plume.

Until she saw who awaited her in Room Three.

Her heart stopped cold.

Then it raced.

The man she had only ever known as the Count smiled at her. He was just as gorgeous as she recalled, his dark hair touched with a little bit more silver at the temples than at their last meeting. He was slim and strong and elegant, his eyes as dark and filled with mystery as ever.

And that smile, that smile had driven her crazy for years.

She needed to look away from the knowingness in those eyes, to put the past away, to diminish his power over her. She had to pretend to be indifferent. The Count was observant and he used every detail he noticed to his own advantage.

She'd learned that a long time ago.

Athena surveyed the room with its the rough hewn wooden walls, its bare cobbled floor, and its massive stone fireplace. A fire raged on the hearth, one so large that she could feel its heat from the doorway. There were a few stools around the perimeter of the room and one large table set in the middle, before the fire.

The Count leaned against it, on the side closest to her, and waited for him to meet his gaze again.

She knew how long he could wait. The man had invented patience.

She might as well get it over with. Athena swallowed and looked him in the eye. She saw his nostrils flare ever so slightly, making her think of a predator on the hunt.

She knew then that she was his prey.

And she had to admit – if only to herself - that she wasn't entirely disappointed.

"Well, well," he said, his voice still lightly accented. "Perhaps the holidays will be festive, after all." She was sure his accent was Italian, but he'd never admitted as much.

The Count never admitted anything – even if his eyes could reveal his pleasure.

They were dancing now, twinkling with delight, yet dangerous. He was unpredictable, like a wild animal, but one filled with powerful grace – and a keen understanding of his partner's keys to pleasure.

His gaze swept over her and Athena knew he liked what he saw. She closed the door behind herself, trying to appear more poised than she felt.

This was the master who had trained her, the one who had plucked her out of her private girls' school and tutored her privately in arts the nuns did not offer on their curriculum. This was the man who had awakened her and possessed her – and haunted her dreams ever since they had parted.

Badly.

Funny how all the old resentment evaporated at just the sight of him. She might as well be an eighteen-year-old girl, smitten with the first man who knew how to touch her.

The one who hadn't really wanted her. That still stung.

Athena didn't know exactly why the Count was at the Plume, but she wouldn't make his mission easy for him. If he wanted her body again, he could work for it.

Nothing else was available to him.

"Rex said you wanted a brandy," she said tartly.

"But you brought two," he observed, his smile broadening. "Dare I hope you'll join me for dessert? I chose two tempting morsels, anticipating your pleasure." The Count gestured to the broad table in the middle of the room, the sturdy one of roughly hewn wood. There were two large serving platters on it, two platters that Athena recognized.

She'd been bound to one of them, not that long ago, just as these slaves were bound now. There was a nude Asian girl tied to the golden platter, the soles of her bare feet secured together and her toes secured to one end of the platter. Her knees were bent, her thighs open so that her sex was warmed by the fire. Her hands were together over her head, her elbows bent so that her thumbs were secured to the opposite end of the platter, just above her head. She had an apple in her mouth, which did not mar her prettiness. Her eyes were wide and blue, her hair a curtain of dark silk swirled beneath her shoulders and to one side.

She had to be over eighteen – those were the rules of the Plume – but she looked young. Virginal. Innocent.

Just the way the Count liked his women.

The man was blond and similarly youthful in appearance, his hair long enough to hang slightly over his eyes. He was bound the same way to the other platter, which was of a darker hue of gold – maybe it was brass – and there was a green apple in his mouth. He squirmed a little, his upright prick revealing that he wasn't that upset about his situation.

"Christmas always makes me think of Hansel and Gretel," the Count said, crossing the room to Athena. She could smell his cologne and remembered it well, as much as she might have preferred otherwise. Her body responded to the scent immediately, as if there hadn't been a decade of absence and a bitter disappointment.

The Count lifted one brandy snifter from her hand, and Athena knew it was no accident that his warm fingers brushed against her skin. He smiled into her eyes and she knew he was gauging his effect upon her.

She wished it was a bit less.

She held his gaze, determined to appear more immune than she felt.

The Count nodded at his captives. "These two came to the gingerbread house in the forest, expecting a treat. Instead, they are the treat." He smiled. "Unlike the witch, I don't care to fatten them up. They look quite delicious, just as they are." He swirled the brandy in the glass and inhaled of its scent with approval. "I do love that the Plume doesn't stint on pleasure." His gaze swept over her again, his eyes warm. "I taught you well, little dove."

The sound of that forgotten endearment shook Athena. She pushed past him, making a show of examining the slaves. Her heart was pounding and she halfway wished the Count would take her from behind, right here and right now. She wanted to drive her desire for him out of her mind, sate it and be done with it.

So she could forget him.

But that wasn't how he played the game.

Before the fire was a smaller table with earthenware bowls arrayed upon it. Athena smelled chocolate sauce and caramel sauce. There were ripe red cherries and luscious strawberries, a bowl of whipped cream, and a bowl of walnut halves.

He was going to garnish these two slaves and eat them.

And he wanted her to join the game.

As equal participant or eventual victim? Athena could guess and she felt the anxiety of her conflicted reaction. She remembered the heady pleasure of Rex having her bound to one of these platters, garnished with peaches and devoured by the members of the club. She had also dined on a similarly captive slave since then, and developed a new taste for dessert.

But alongside the Count?

Under the Count? She didn't want to be his plaything ever again.

Even if she remembered him as the best lover she'd ever had.

Maybe because of that. She couldn't survive another rejection by him.

Athena heard the light tread of the Count's footfall and felt the weight of his fingertip on the back of her waist. He moved like a cat, as stealthy as ever. His lips touched her shoulder, his breath making her shiver. The slaves stared up at her from their bonds, in fascinated silence. The Count's fingertips slid over her shoulder, and he captured one of her breasts in his hand. He massaged the nipple between finger and thumb, his heat immediately behind her.

Athena felt her resistance to him dissolve, just as it always had.

Which meant she was just as much of a fool as ever. She straightened and he immediately dropped his hand away. She took a sip of brandy to remind herself of who she was and how far she had come.

"Caramel or chocolate?" the Count asked, and Athena felt him watching her. "Cherries or strawberries?" She stole a glance at him and saw his quick smile. "Hansel or Gretel?"

She wanted to leave. She wanted to run. But she saw the expectation in his eyes that she would do just that, and knew that leaving would convince the Count that he still had a hold on her.

Athena would prove otherwise.

And she would cheat him of what he wanted as well.

Her smile was cool. "I'll have Gretel," she said, taking pleasure in denying him something. "With walnuts and chocolate sauce."

The female slave caught her breath.