Author: K.D. Grace
Date: 2015-02-02 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Erotica; Bdsm; Contemporary
Description: The Mount series features the erotic adventures of those involved with The Mount, a mysterious and ancient organisation devoted, amongst other things, to the exploration of sexual pleasures… Rita, a journalist, goes through a strange and sexy series of events that lead to an offer: her initiation into The Mount. She agrees, planning an exposé of the club – but the more she discovers, the more she realises her heart isn’t in it. The second instalment introduces Nick Crane, for whom a lust-filled night with a beautiful woman leads him down an unexpected path: working for Elsa Crane in the exotic
Publisher: Xcite Books

The Mount Series Boxset

K D Grace

The Mount series features the erotic adventures of those involved with The Mount, a mysterious and ancient organisation devoted, amongst other things, to the exploration of sexual pleasures…

Rita, a journalist, goes through a strange and sexy series of events that lead to an offer: her initiation into The Mount. She agrees, planning an exposé of the club – but the more she discovers, the more she realises her heart isn’t in it.

The second instalment introduces Nick Crane, for whom a lust-filled night with a beautiful woman leads him down an unexpected path: working for Elsa Crane in the exotic and kinky world of Mount Vegas. Thrilling…but there’s a lot at stake.

In the final volume we meet Liza and Paulo, who have a steamy encounter on board a flight to Rome. Paulo is an expert perfume maker, and he has an offer for Liza…he wants her to help him create the ultimate scent – one derived from the scent of sex …

Together for the first time in one volume, here are the sensational stories of The Initiation of Ms Holly, Fulfilling the Contract and To Rome withLust -- three novels, three wild romps of lust…andlove.

This book is dedicated to sex and romance and love and all the other good things the world could use more of.

Chapter One

He practically fell on top of Rita, his hand grazing her left breast in the complete darkness. She yelped and grabbed him to keep from losing her balance.

‘God, I’m sorry!’ He gasped. ‘Bloody nuisance, this, isn’t it?’ His voice was warm, melodious, by far the most pleasant thing that had happened to Rita since she left Paris. ‘Oh dear. You’re trembling. Are you all right?’

‘I’m claustrophobic.’ Her words were thin and shaky, as though she didn’t fully trust herself to let them out. ‘It wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t know where we are.’ For an embarrassing moment, she realised she was still clinging to him, but the embarrassment passed, and suddenly she didn’t care. If they were going to die trapped in a train in the Eurostar tunnel, buried beneath a gazillion gallons of water, she’d just as soon not do it alone.

He either understood, or was too polite to leave her in such distress. He wrapped his arms around her engulfing her in a muscular embrace, the scent of which was maleness barely masked by deodorant and some spicy cologne, both fading at the end of a day much longer than either of them had anticipated. ‘Don’t worry.’ In the darkness, he misjudged the distance between them and his lips brushed her earlobe. ‘It’s just an electrical malfunction. Anyway we’re better off down here than in the snowstorm up above. Sounds like all London is shut down. Who’d have expected snow this late in the spring? Never mind that, where else do you get the chance to cuddle strangers in the dark?’

He pressed a little closer to her, and she was relieved to find other thoughts, thoughts more welcome than those of their predicament, pushing their way into her head. He felt good, broad-shouldered and tall, easy to lean on.

‘Why are you huddled here in the corner rather than hunkered down in your seat?’

She concentrated on his warm breath pressing against the top of her ear. ‘I was on my way back from the loo when the lights went out and …’

‘And this is as far as you got.’

She nodded against his chest, honing in on the reassuring sound of his heartbeat.

‘Shall I help you back to your seat then?’

The train lurched forward, and she yelped again, tightening her grip around his neck. ‘No, please. It’s better if I just don’t move.’

There was a long pause. ‘Do you want me to stay with you?’

She realised the poor man had little choice clenched in her strangle hold, as he was. ‘I don’t want to be any trouble,’ she lied.

He readjusted his stance and tightened his embrace. ‘No trouble at all. I can’t think of a better way to pass the time than in the arms of a beautiful woman. You are beautiful, aren’t you?’

In spite of the stress she felt, she forced a laugh. ‘Gorgeous, actually. Too bad you can’t see for yourself.’

He ran a hand down the contour of her spine to rest low on the small of her back. ‘I don’t have to see you to admire you.’

The thought that the man was rather cheeky barely crossed her mind before he lifted her fingers to his lips and planted a warm kiss across the back of her knuckles. ‘I’m Edward. I’m from London. Clearly you’re not.’

‘Rita,’ she replied. ‘I’m from Seattle, but I live in London now.’

‘Well Rita, from Seattle, we’ve established that you’re an exotic beauty. Perhaps you’d like to return the favour.’ He lifted her hand to his face and guided it gently over the slight stubble of his cheek. As her hand cupped his well-formed chin, he pulled her middle finger into his mouth and nibbled it, teasing the pad of it with his tongue. Suddenly her struggle to breathe had nothing to do with being claustrophobic.

‘Well?’ He asked pulling her hand away to massage her fingers. ‘What do you think? Am I acceptable?’

If he was cheeky, she was downright brazen. She stopped his words with her mouth, amazed at how easily she had found the mark in total darkness. Perhaps it was the darkness that made her so bold, but, whatever it was, he didn’t disappoint. His mouth was warm, opening eagerly to the probing of her tongue, responding in kind, caressing her hard palate, nipping at the fullness of her lower lip before pulling away just enough to speak.

‘There, you see? It’s not so bad being in the dark, is it? The other senses are too often overlooked, which is very sad, since they offer such exquisite delights.’ His hand moved up to cup her cheek, and he raked a thumb across her still parted lips. ‘Taste, for example. Few pleasures exceed that of the tongue.’

She heard him fumbling in the darkness, then she heard the rattling of foil. ‘Open your mouth,’ he whispered. ‘I have something that’ll make you feel better, guaranteed. Oh don’t worry, it’s nothing illegal.’

Reluctantly she opened her mouth, which he primed with a wet kiss, then slipped a chocolate truffle between her lips. It was covered liberally in cocoa and warmed exquisitely almost, but not quite, to the steamy melting point of his body temperature, which only enhanced the sharp, edgy flavour that separates expensive chocolate from the cheap stuff.

She gasped her surprise, then moaned softly at the intensity of the taste.

‘Don’t bite.’ He kissed her jaw, then her throat. ‘Savour it; roll it around in your mouth. There are places on the tongue that taste only sweet and places that taste only bitter or salt, or sour. Chocolate can have all those flavours. Caress it in your mouth like you’re making love to it, and you’ll be amazed at what you taste.’

She cheeked the truffle, slurring her words as she spoke. ‘I thought I was tasting you.’

He chuckled softly. ‘Everything tastes better with chocolate.’ Without another word, he took her mouth, plunging his tongue deep against the melting truffle, whirling it, lapping at it, sighing with the pleasure of it. The more liquid and heated the truffle became, the more liquid and heated Rita became.

‘The taste buds can distinguish wonderfully subtle flavours,’ he said between tongue dances. In the meantime he slipped his hand under her skirt, stopping to caress a suspender. Rita had always hated tights, and sexy or not, she preferred suspenders and stockings, which she found much less confining.

Still sharing the truffle in her mouth, he shoved aside the crotch of her panties and plunged a finger between her swollen labia, moaning his satisfaction at finding her so slippery and receptive.

She ground herself against his fingers. Wriggling and squirming until she was practically sitting on his palm, the heel of it rubbing deliciously against her clit, while they savoured the taste of the truffle.

He smeared chocolate against her lips as he whispered, ‘It’s amazing how closely linked scent and taste are.’ Then he pulled his hand from her panties, and she caught the salty sweet scent of herself just before he plunged a wet finger into her mouth, allowing her to suckle her own juices.

‘You see? The taste is completely different when you add your own flavour.’ He pulled his fingers away to taste for himself, and then plunged his tongue back into her mouth.

‘What about your flavour,’ she gasped when they came up for air, dribbling chocolate and saliva down their chins.

She didn’t have to ask twice. Suddenly they were tugging and pulling at his trousers and struggling to get them open enough to extricate his enthusiastic erection. When the warmth of it, the heavy shape of it, pressed against her hand, she dropped into a squat and took it into her mouth, finding him thick and smooth and slightly salty with a warm yeasty scent not unlike new-made bread, like pain au chocolat, she thought.

He curled his fingers in the waves of her hair and shifted his hips. She adjusted, nearly gagging in her efforts to take more of him into her mouth and still hang on to the last taste of chocolate as long as possible.

It was inevitable that her hand, the one not stroking Edward’s distended balls, would find its way between her legs.

But her fingers weren’t enough. She stood quickly, nearly bumping him in the chin with her head. ‘I want more than a taste,’ she gasped, already shoving her skirt up and turning her bottom to him, guiding his cock toward its goal. The thought crossed her mind that, if the lights came back on, they would very much be caught in the act. But when Edward spread her lips with warm fingers and slipped inside her, she forgot all about the risk and thrust back against him.

Surely people around them – even in the total darkness – could figure out what was going on. Who knew? Maybe some of them had also slipped hands in trousers or under skirts for some pleasurable relief from the stress of the situation.

She could tell by Edward’s bruising grip on her hips that he was about to come, and she was riding the edge of her own orgasm, just barely managing to hold back, just a little longer, just a few more seconds.

It hit with such force that for a moment she thought her worst fears had been realised, and there had been an explosion on the train. But there were no screams, though she was desperately trying to keep from screaming herself. That must surely mean that the explosion was personal.

In the midst of the intense pleasure hurtling through her, Edward grunted in her ear, ‘You still want to taste me? Let me come in your mouth.’

As she pulled off him, and they fumbled to switch positions, from somewhere he produced another truffle and shoved it into her mouth, followed in short succession by his engorged cock.

Quickly she cheeked the chocolate to make room for his penis, which she took as deep into her throat as she could, trying to savour both truffle and thrusting cock without choking on either.

The curl of his fingers in her hair tightened as he pulled her mouth further on to him with each thrust until, at last, he grunted the first spurt of semen into her mouth, which blended with the chocolate in an earthy richness that made her pussy twitch again. Chocolate and sex, chocolate and come. The taste alone catapulted her to another orgasm.

As his grip lessened on her hair, she knew exactly what to do next. Holding the last of his come in her cheek next to the truffle, she stood, took his face between her hands, and teased his lips apart, drizzling the blending of maleness and chocolate onto his tongue.

They were still gobbling hungrily at each other’s mouths when the conductor’s voice came over the intercom. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, a train has just arrived to tow us into Ashford. Upon our arrival, another train will be waiting for those of you who wish to continue on to London St. Pancras. For those of you who would prefer, arrangements have been made to put you up at a hotel in Ashford for the night and get you safely on your way in the morning. Once again, we apologise for the inconvenience.’

The car erupted in a buzz of conversation as people discussed their options and their relief that at least something was finally happening.

‘What will you do?’ He asked. She heard him zip his fly, then she felt him carefully wiping between her pussy lips with what must have been his handkerchief.

‘I’ll stay,’ she said, opening her legs to his ministerings, almost wishing the conductor had kept his mouth shut long enough for round two. ‘With all the snow, I can’t get home even if I do get to London. You?’

‘I have to go.’ He pressed a lingering kiss to the inside of her thigh just above where the stocking was attached to the garter belt. ‘Business. It would have been lovely to continue the fun in a hotel room. But I can’t. Not this time. Come on. Let me help you back to your seat.’

When they arrived in her car, by the light of his mobile, she found her place much more quickly than she would have liked. ‘Give me your phone,’ he said once she was seated.

She did as he asked. He keyed in something and handed it back. ‘Now you have my number. Text me.’ Then he gave her a brain searing kiss and left as the train lurched forward and gathered speed. She hadn’t even seen his face.

Chapter Two

‘Oh for fuck’s sake, just text the man already.’ From where she sprawled on the sofa, Rita’s friend, Kate, stretched to check if the lacquer she had just applied to her toenails was dry. ‘He did ask you to.’

Rita refilled their wine glasses and flopped back into the recliner. ‘I keep wondering if I imagined the whole incident, with the stress of being trapped in the dark under the channel, you know, the fear of dying without getting laid. I mean it’s been so long.’

‘Not so long any more, you lucky cow.’

‘And that’s another thing. What if he thinks I’m a slut, I mean I did kiss him first.’

Kate rolled her eyes. ‘Honestly, you Americans are so squeamish about sex. You’re never going to know what he thinks if you don’t text him.’ Kate grabbed Rita’s mobile from where it lay on the coffee table and pulled up the directory. ‘You see? Look. Says right here Edward, the only Edward you know, isn’t it? Edward with no last name.’

‘Christ! That’s right. I don’t even know his last name. I don’t even know what he looks like.’ Rita lunged for her phone, but Kate pulled it away with a giggle.

‘You definitely know what he feels like, hon, and what he tastes like. I’ll be riding my rabbit to fantasies of jizz and expensive chocolate for months to come, thanks to you.’

‘What are you doing? Kate? Kate, give me back my phone.’

With a wicked laugh, Rita’s friend leapt off the sofa just out of her reach, texting frantically, and as Rita was about to tackle her, she tossed the phone back, barely missing her wine glass.

Rita fumbled to catch it. ‘What the hell did you do?’ But being familiar with Kate’s naughty little mind, she already knew the answer. On screen the text message read:

Sun nite was gr8. Would luv 2 do it again. R.

The message had been sent.

‘Kate! Damn it, how could you? Now for sure he’ll think I’m a slut and –’

Her reprimand was interrupted by the beep of an incoming text. She nearly dropped the phone. Kate was instantly at her side.

‘Well? Is it from him? What’d he say?’ She shoved in close and looked over Rita’s shoulder at the text that read:

Me 2. Drinks and din @ The Mount. 8:30 Sat? E.

‘The Mount!’ Kate practically squealed in her ear. ‘Even God can’t get rezzies at The Mount. And even if he could, he couldn’t afford to actually go there. The bloke must be rolling in dosh.’ She danced a little jig in front of the sofa. ‘Find out if he has a friend.’

Saturday night, Rita arrived by taxi at the reclaimed warehouse along the Thames that was The Mount. But for the Jags and Porsches arriving as fast as the valets could drive them away, no one would have guessed it was a favourite hangout of people with money.

Suddenly a sleek white limo pulled up in front of the awning protecting The Mount’s customers from inclement weather. A liveried driver opened the door with military precision. The woman who stepped out had to be the perfect female. Her full, high breasts were well displayed in a simple silver gown. The low back hugged the exquisite narrowing line of her long spine, culminating in an elegantly small waist, which blossomed into the swell of her hips and rounded hillocks of her bottom. Her ripe wheat hair was caught up in a simple chignon exposing the elegant arch of her neck and shoulders.

The woman lingered to shake hands with a few adoring worshippers, then glided into The Mount as though her feet never touched the ground.

‘I can’t believe it,’ the taxi driver breathed. ‘That’s Vivienne.’

‘I know.’ Rita said. Kate would never believe she’d seen the goddess herself in person.

‘In all the times I’ve dropped people here, this is the first time I’ve ever actually seen her,’ the driver said.

Rita swallowed her nerves and stepped out of the cab. Granted, she wasn’t Vivienne, but, she reassured herself, she knew how to dress to for success. The midnight blue sheath caressed her curves almost like Edward had, and the double spaghetti straps offered her full breasts just enough support to get by with the braless plunge that displayed her abundant cleavage without being too slutty. Twin slits up the sides of her gown gave tantalizing glimpses of her thighs as she walked. The matching stilettos were not quite fuck-me shoes, but they could definitely be classified as make-love-to-me-naughtily shoes.

Inside she found herself in a lounge panelled in mahogany and filled with richly upholstered chairs and sofas strategically placed to offer an atmosphere of intimacy. The room was decorated in leather, wood and wealth. Several couples and small groups, dressed to kill, talked softly, nursing their drinks in quiet nooks and crannies while waiting for their tables. But Vivienne was not among them.

‘May I help you?’

With a start, Rita turned to find herself face to face with a woman swathed in black, caressing a martini. The parts of her anatomy that weren’t being fondled by designer silk were dripping in pearls and diamonds, which Rita had no doubt were real. In fact, she was sure any one item of the woman’s stunning ensemble would have maxed out her credit card and cost her first born, if she ever had one. Intimidation hit like a slap in the face, and she would have happily slipped back out the door and made a run for it if she hadn’t been caught in the act, or at least that’s how she felt. She stepped forward and offered a weak smile. ‘Yes. I’m here to meet Edward.’ She hoped no last name was required.

The woman did not smile back. ‘Of course. You must be Rita. Edward’s expecting you. Come with me.’

She was led through a restaurant full of sleek diners who spoke quietly over the tinkle of fine crystal and silver, then past a dance floor, where couples moved to a big band medley. Up above the dining room on a cast iron catwalk, no doubt a remnant of the original warehouse, stood the exquisite Vivienne gazing out over the diners below like a queen overlooking her realm That was pretty much what she was, Rita thought. By her side, and slightly in the shadow, stood a man bending to whisper in her ear. She didn’t seem pleased with whatever he was telling her.

The woman in black hurried Rita past the queen of The Mount and her consort, down a long hallway that opened on to several private dining rooms, most with private dance floors surrounded by dark, intimate booths.

‘The Mount is a dance club,’ the woman said, noticing Rita’s curiosity. ‘Mostly ballroom and Latin. It was once an old wool warehouse. Restoring it was quite a risk, but you’d be surprised at the number of people who love to dance.’ Rita wondered what planet this woman thought she was from that she needed to tell her the obvious. Everyone in London knew the guidebook history of The Mount. But it was what the guide books didn’t say that intrigued everyone.

In one of the more intimate dining rooms the woman guided her to a lushly upholstered booth near the back away from the dance floor and the few other diners who occupied the room.

‘Edward will join you shortly.’ With that, the woman turned on you-could-only-afford-to-fuck-me-in-your-dreams stilettos and retreated back through the maze of rooms.

Before she was out of sight, a server approached Rita’s table with two glasses and a bottle of Moët et Chandon on ice. ‘I’m Aurora.’ She sat her burden down on the table. ‘Edward has instructed me to apologise for his small delay.’ It was only her name and a slight feminine pout which assured Rita that Aurora was actually a woman. Her androgynous features were accentuated by white blonde hair cropped short. She was dressed in a black suit, waistcoat and tie, completely camouflaging the swell of her small breasts. When she spoke, even her voice was deep, and gravelly. ‘There is one other thing Edward asked me to give you.’ From her pocket, the waitress produced a black velvet blindfold. ‘He asks that you wear this. He said you would understand.’

A frisson of anticipation laced with the tiniest hint of fear ran up Rita’s spine and accumulated at the tips of her nipples as the waitress stepped behind her and secured the blindfold. That done, she filled a glass and placed it in Rita’s hand. ‘Enjoy the fizz,’ she said. Then she left.

The scent of oregano and basil and other more subtle seasonings blended with the smell of expensive perfume. Glasses clinked, people laughed, and somewhere in the background the melodic strains of String of Pearls wafted on the air. She had only just tasted the champagne when a warm body scooted into the booth next to her. She recognised Edward’s scent a split second before his hand cupped her cheek and his mouth covered hers, familiar territory, she thought, as her tongue became reacquainted with his.

‘I hope you don’t mind the blindfold,’ he said when he came up for air. He slid warm fingers under the spaghetti straps and caressing her left shoulder. ‘Being in the dark was so much fun last time.’

She ran a hand over his cheek, raking a thumb lightly over a fluttering eyelid. ‘What about you? You’re not wearing a blindfold. That’s hardly fair.’

He chuckled, and she felt his warm breath against her earlobe. ‘I never said I play fair. I was right though. You are exquisite, but I wouldn’t have imagined your hair to be chestnut’ He caressed her tresses, pushing a strand back behind her shoulders to fondle her nape. ‘For some reason I was certain that cascade of silk would be strawberry blonde.’ He ran his other hand up the outside of her thigh, toying with the exposed edge of her garter belt, making her squirm. ‘Guess in some cases, there’s just no substitute for the sense of sight.’

‘But I want to see you too. I want to know what you look like.’

‘You will in good time. That is if you want to play my little game. Of course you could take off the blindfold. I can’t stop you, but admit it, it’s fun not knowing. A bit of an adventure, an initiation almost.’

‘An initiation?’

‘Yeah, you know, at the beginning, when a man and a woman are just getting to know each other, it’s like an initiation, don’t you think?’

‘I never thought of it like that, kind of like a hazing?’

He chuckled. ‘Can be. Could be, if you want it to be.’ He nipped her earlobe, ‘Or maybe like an induction into some secret cult with secret rituals of wild, kinky sex.’

‘Mmm. Sounds good. Where do I sign up?’

Another chuckle. ‘All you have to do is keep the blindfold on until I say you can take it off. Let your other senses do the work.’ His finger slipped beneath the suspender to stroke her thigh, making concentration next to impossible.

‘I’ve always wanted to be a member of a secret sex cult.’ Breathing was becoming more of an effort as his touch became more insistent. ‘OK then. I’m in. Have your way with me.’

There was a long moment of silence, and for a split second Rita wondered if she had said something wrong, if she been too forward, too quick with her answer. But just when she was about to back track, he leaned in and kissed her softly on the mouth. She could almost hear his heart beating in his words when at last he spoke. ‘Then welcome to your new playground.’ His hand slipped underneath the spaghetti straps to cup her breast and stroke her engorged areola. ‘Expensive dress?’

‘What?’ Intimidation knotted her stomach. ‘Does it matter?’

‘Not really.’ She could hear him filling the champagne flute. ‘I’ll buy you a new one.’ He lifted the glass to her lips. Just as the taste hit her tongue he pulled it away and she felt a cold wet splash over her left breast. She stifled a yelp, but not before his lips clamped down tight on her drenched nipple, and the friction of tongue and teeth on wet silk caused delicious shock waves down her belly all the way to her cunt.

‘You know,’ he said between sucklings, ‘at the command of Louis 15th, the original champagne glass was said to have been shaped like the breasts of his mistress, Madame Pompadour. I can understand why. Once you’ve suckled champagne from a beautiful breast, champagne alone, no matter how expensive, isn’t nearly as nice.’

Another cold splash across both breasts and down her cleavage. She gasped and held him to her as he shoved down the spaghetti straps and freed her into his hungry mouth. ‘What if people are watching?’ she whispered.

‘Don’t worry. I know the owner.’

Another drizzle of fizz, but this time over her belly, dripping down icily against her mound. She squirmed and ground her hips against the seat.

‘Open your legs for me,’ he whispered. ‘There’s one cup even more perfect than Louis’s design.’

She did as he asked, wriggling and lifting her butt, her pussy clenching in anticipation. In one fluid motion, he shoved the dress up over her hips and pulled her panties down and off over her shoes. She wasn’t sure how he had managed it, but he manoeuvred himself onto the floor beneath the table. Before she could figure it out, cold liquid bubbles tickled her clit and dribbled down between her labia chased by the white hot lavishings of his tongue.

She moaned and everything inside her tensed with the surprise of it, the tantalizing, bracing shock of it, just before everything went molten and she slid down in the booth until her bottom was practically off the seat.

His hands kneaded her buttocks, thumbs spreading her folds open to the explorations of his mouth. ‘The perfect cocktail,’ he spoke against her pussy. ‘Champagne and lady juices.’

The music changed to a Latin beat, and behind her blindfolded eyes, bright flashes of colour burst and exploded like fireworks as she rocked and thrust, concentrating only on his mouth and her pussy and the sweet tart scent of champagne bubbling against her slit. She was so focused that she nearly slid off the seat when he pulled away, and she heard scrambling under the table.

‘What’s wrong,’ she gasped. ‘What is it?’

‘Excuse me, but might I have this dance?’

The voice near her ear at the side of the booth startled her and she jumped. It wasn’t Edward’s!

‘I love Latin dancing, don’t you?’

‘What? Dance?’ She gasped. ‘Now’s not a good time. Who are you? Edward? What’s going on?’

There was the familiar whisper in her other ear. ‘Go with Alex, Rita. Trust me, now’s a very good time.’

Before she could protest further, she was half dragged, half tangoed on to the floor. ‘How can I dance,’ she panted, ‘when I can’t even see?’

There was a humid chuckle close to her nape. ‘What? You don’t trust me to lead you?’

‘Not when my brain’s in my knickers.’ She struggled to catch her breath.

‘You’re not wearing any.’ The words were pressed to her ear in a warm kiss, followed by a sigh of resignation. ‘Oh all right.’ He pulled off the blindfold, and she found herself squinting at a lovely face in a halo of blond curls. A well-muscled man with a dancer’s body pulled her into an intimate tango. She was so close that she could feel the bulge in his trousers and wondered how the hell he could still move so gracefully. Heat flared with the driving pulse of the percussion, and his groin rubbed deliciously against her mound with each shifting beat of the music.

Without warning, he lowered her into a heart-pounding dip, and she yelped out loud, causing several dancers to glance in their direction. As he pulled her back to him, she spoke between clenched teeth. ‘Is this some kind of a joke, Edward gets me all excited then hands me over to someone else? That is if I was with Edward at all. How the hell would I know?’

‘Shshshs.’ Alex covered her mouth with a kiss. ‘Relax. Of course you were with Edward, still are. I’m his gift to you. When you’re done with me, I’ll take you back to him.’

‘When I’m done with you? What’s that supposed to mean?’ She shot a glance into the darkness at the edge of the dance floor, but to no avail. She was blindfolded when Alex led her from the table. She had no idea where Edward was.

Once more he lowered her into a dip, this time pulling her up slowly, lingering to kiss the mounds of her breasts, nipples chilled stiff and clearly visible through the champagne soak fabric. Her pussy clenched with a wave of sensation that reminded her just how close to orgasm she had been when Edward had handed her over. ‘What do you mean you’re his gift to me?’

‘Edward’s a bit of a voyeur, and he wants to watch your pleasure.’

‘What? And have a wank? Oh that’s just great.’

Alex chuckled, and she realised his hand was working its way beneath the slit of her dress. ‘Hardly. Edward isn’t exactly what I’d call a wanker. Trust me; he’ll be more than ready for you when you’re finished with me.’ He shoved the hem of her dress aside until her bare pussy pressed against the bulge in his trousers, and then he flicked a finger into her pout so quickly she wouldn’t have been sure it happened if not for the rush of pleasure and wetness. He pulled her still closer. ‘You need to come. Use me. That’s what I’m here for.’

‘I thought that was Edward’s job.’

Another chuckle. ‘I promise you, Edward won’t disappoint.’ He thrust hard against her. ‘Do you want me?’

‘What do you think? You just fingered my cunt.’

Another dip, this time slow and serpentine. With a deft hand, he freed his cock. She didn’t know how he’d managed it, but there, in plain sight with moves that would have made a magician jealous, he slipped his substantial erection between her legs, then he lifted her onto him. With one thrust and a grunt she was completely penetrated. All she could do was wrap her legs around him and hang on, marvelling that with each thrust he never missed a beat of the music. In fact, he continued the dance as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening, hands cupped supportively under her arse, dancing amid the few other couples who moved beneath the sparkle of the disco ball. Were they blind? Could they not see that Alex was slinking around the dance floor, hammering her cunt with each pulse of the tango?

And she didn’t care. It was totally insane, but she didn’t care. They were thrusting and swaying with the music, and somewhere in the darkness Edward was watching with his cock aching to be inside her. She wondered if he were touching himself. She wondered if his balls felt close to bursting. She certainly hoped so. She wondered if, when she returned, he would take her right there in the booth, her pussy still wet from her erotic dance with Alex. She imagined her fizz-soaked cunt swallowing up Edward’s penis in hungry gulps.

That did it. Suddenly it was as though champagne had been uncorked inside her. She gave a startled little cry as her orgasm exploded up through her, rocking her from head to toe with its impact.

When the aftershocks subsided and the music stopped, Alex danced her off the floor to a discreet nook near a linen cabinet and helped her dismount. Then with a heavy grunt, he spurted his wad into a handkerchief he’d extricated from his pocket. When he finished wiping his cock, he said, ‘It wouldn’t be polite for me to come inside you when you’re with Edward.’

The sense of excitement she felt at Alex’s words was visceral. And surprising. She’d just had totally hot sex with him, and in truth she wouldn’t know Edward if she saw him, but still it was Edward she wanted. Maybe their time together on the train had somehow bonded them. It was certainly a relief knowing that he hadn’t pawned her off, even on such a good lover as Alex.

While Alex tucked himself in, Rita had time for a quick glance around the room. Her eyes now accustomed to the light, she could see only one booth occupied by a single diner. And though that booth was in shadow, she could still make out the shape of a tall muscular man seated, watching.

‘There, now I’m presentable again.’ Alex held the blindfold up for Rita. ‘I’ll just slip this on and take you back to Edward.’

‘Wait.’ She ran a hand through her dishevelled hair and smoothed down the front of her wet dress. ‘I’m sure I look a mess. Can I just nip to the ladies and freshen up a bit before you take me back? I’d feel so much better.’

He nodded to the restrooms on the other side of the linen closet, then handed her the blindfold. ‘I’ll wait here.’

She locked herself in the stall and plopped down on the throne to plan her next move. Though she had agreed to the blindfold, suddenly she wanted desperately to see Edward, to know what he looked like. And, in all fairness, it would serve him right to wait with a raging hard-on while she took her time in the loo. After all, he had handed her off to Alex just when things were getting hot. She would sneak up behind, put the blindfold on him, then she would be the one in control, and what fun she would have.

Chapter Three

‘Rita Holly. Come with us.’

She had just stepped out of the ladies and was sneaking around behind the linen closet. To her relief, Alex was gone, and the coast was clear to Edward – at least it had been until the two tank-sized security guards in Armani suits appeared out of nowhere, flanking her and herding her back down the hall toward the main restaurant.

‘What’s this all about?’ she asked. ‘I was just heading back to my table and –’

‘We know what you were doing, Ms Holly. Alex gave us the heads-up. You’re not very good at following rules, are you?’

‘Excuse me?’

The smaller of the two grabbed the blindfold away from her and held it up.

‘Oh that. Edward said the blindfold was –’

The guard held up his hand. ‘Rules are rules.’

They marched her down the hall and through the main restaurant, where she was suddenly, painfully aware of her dishevelled appearance and how it must look, her being escorted by two glorified bouncers.

‘I haven’t done anything wrong. You can’t treat me like this.’ In spite of her best efforts to remain calm, she couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone in the restaurant was looking on in disapproval.

As they turned down another hallway, the big bouncer opened the first door they came to and motioned her inside. Her heart jumped in her throat as the door slammed behind her.

There was a gravelly laugh. ‘You’re not a prisoner if that’s what you think.’

She turned with a start and found herself face to face with Aurora, the waitress, who offered her a feline smile. ‘You’re free to go whenever you like. Shall I call you a cab?’

‘Where’s Edward? I want to see him.’

Aurora’s gaze took in Rita’s wet top nearly bursting with her heavy nipples, then followed the line of her body down to where her thighs came together and the dress clung to her champagne soaked mound leaving little to the imagination.

‘You enjoyed Alex, I assume.’

‘Is that what this is all about? I was tricked. I had a date with Edward, but I’ve never seen his face, then Alex asked me –’

‘Enough!’ Aurora raised her hand, and for a frightening moment, Rita thought she was going to slap her. ‘I know all about you and Edward. We tried to tell him you didn’t belong here, that it would be a mistake to bring you, but he wouldn’t listen, would he?’

‘What the hell are you talking about? It was a date. That’s all, a date!’

Aurora slid off her jacket and hung it carefully over a cedar hanger on the back of the door. ‘Edward doesn’t date, and if he did, he certainly wouldn’t do it here.’

‘I want to see him.’ Jesus, what was she thinking? She should get the hell out of this nut-house. It might be the place for bored rich people, but it was no place for her, and yet … ‘I want to see Edward.’ If nothing else, she wanted to give him a good piece of her mind. Who did he think he was humiliating her like this?

Aurora stepped nose to nose with her and ran a heavy hand down her cheek to rest on her throat, thumb caressing one side, fingers producing just enough pressure along the other to make it slightly uncomfortable. ‘You broke the rules, the rules you agreed to.’

Rita shoved her hand away and stepped back. ‘You mean with the blindfold? It was only a game, and it was just between us.’

‘We take games very seriously here at The Mount. You can’t change the rules. It’s Edward’s game, his rules to make. I’ll call you a cab, then the game’s over, and you lose.’

Take the fucking cab. That’s the smart thing to do, a part of Rita’s brain screamed. And yet she heard herself saying. ‘If I don’t want to lose? If I want to see Edward?’

The woman offered her a contemptuous grunt. ‘Then you have to pay the penalty for breaking the rules, and Edward has to agree to continue the game. Personally, I think he’s wasting his time. There are better people for him to play with, but Edward always has been stubborn. So what’s it going to be? Are you going to take the penalty?’ She jerked open to the door. ‘Or go home where you belong?’

Suddenly all the evening’s humiliation and manipulation bubbled into rage just beneath Rita’s sternum, and being bullied by a butched-up waitress was the final straw. She moved to the door, gaze locked on Aurora, who stepped aside.

But instead of leaving, she gave the door an explosive slam that made even Aurora jump. ‘I’m staying. I’m staying until I see Edward.’

The words were barely out before Aurora grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head back against her muscular shoulder. ‘Breaking the rules in the middle of a game is serious.’ Her hand still wound tightly in Rita’s hair, she half dragged, half guided her to a leather upholstered settee and shoved her down on it. ‘I can’t punish you without Edward witnessing. It’s his game.’ The sculpted contempt on Aurora’s face was the last thing Rita saw before another blindfold ensconced her in darkness.

‘You punish me? What the hell do you have to do with this?’ She reached for the blindfold, but the waitress wrenched her hand away none too gently. ‘I’m the enforcer. It’s my job to make sure the rules aren’t broken and to punish those who do break them.’

‘This is insane. I want to –’

Her protest died in her throat with a little gasp as the other woman’s hand slid between her legs and probed her pantyless cunt, then she heard her suckle her fingers. ‘I see Edward’s shown you the best way to enjoy champagne, though you probably didn’t deserve it. Now wait here, and don’t move, or you’ll make your punishment even worse.’ This time Rita heard the click of the lock as Aurora left.

She had no way of judging how long she waited. And now, thanks to her stupidity, she had cut off her only way of escape. But Aurora said she would return with Edward. And Rita definitely wanted to have a few words with him. If it meant being roughed up a bit by Butch Woman, well she could handle that. She was not about to let Edward get away with treating her this way.

She reached down to stroke the wet spot low on her belly, and the anger was subsumed into something a little more intriguing. Her pussy quivered when she thought about Edward lapping champagne from her cunt and Edward watching her and Alex on the dance floor. And Alex refusing to come inside her out of deference to Edward. There was an awful lot of deference to Edward, and for some mindless reason, that made her feel proud, in spite of the desire to strangle him with his own blindfold.

But what if Edward was just the gang leader, like some kind of mafia boss, and what if she never saw the light of day again. She’d heard all kinds of rumours about the mysterious Mount. Where the hell was her sense of self-preservation? Was her wounded pride worth her going along with this insanity – insanity that might be very dangerous?

She was seriously contemplating yanking off the blindfold and making a run for it when the door burst open and Edward called her name. Suddenly she was engulfed in his arms, and her mouth was consumed with his kisses. He pulled away just enough to speak, his breath coming in fast, tense gulps against her parted lips. ‘Are you all right, Rita?’

‘How the hell do you think I am? Dinner and drinks, you said. You didn’t mention humiliating me in front of half of London’s rich and powerful. I don’t understand any of this. I thought you were just teasing me with the blindfold, and then there was Alex. I just wanted to see what you look like.’ She felt dangerously close to tears, which made her even more angry. She swallowed back the lump in her throat. ‘Then these bouncers came and Aurora pulled my hair and –’

He stopped her words with another kiss. ‘And yet you chose to stay and play the game with me.’ He cradled her close to his hammering heart and stroked her hair. ‘I’m so proud of you. I knew I wasn’t wrong in choosing you. I promise you won’t regret it.’ His hand came to rest low on her belly, his thumb stroking her mound through the dampness of the dress.

‘Get away from her, Edward.’ Aurora commanded. ‘You know the rules. You can’t have her until I’ve exacted punishment.’

He caressed Rita’s cheek. ‘Listen very carefully, darling. In order for the game to continue, in order for us to be together, I must let Aurora punish you, and I have to watch without interfering. Do you understand?’

‘But –’

‘I’m sorry, Rita, but I can’t explain anything until that happens. Are you OK with that?’

She nodded, and in spite of her best efforts she felt tears seeping into the blindfold.

‘That’s my brave girl. If you take your punishment, I promise you, the game will be so worth it. You’ll see.’

‘And if I win?’ Her voice sounded loud in the sudden quiet of the room. ‘What’s my reward, if I win?’

She heard the click of Aurora’s heals and smelled her perfume. ‘What you get,’ she said, taking Edward’s place next to her, ‘Is membership.’

‘Membership?’

To her surprise, Aurora pulled off the blindfold and held her chin in a vice grip. ‘Membership into The Mount, which is more than you deserve.’

‘What?’

The resounding slap across her face stung like fire and made her eyes water, but the gasp she heard wasn’t her own. As her eyes focused through the tears she saw a man sitting stiff-backed on the edge of a wooden chair. His face was concealed in an expressionless golden mask, which covered all but the bow of his lips. Otherwise he could have passed for any of the male diners at The Mount that night. ‘Edward?’ She half whispered rubbing her stinging cheek.

There was a slight nod of his head before Aurora vice-gripped her chin again.

‘You give me your undivided attention, or I’ll call you a cab whether you want or not.’ Aurora slapped her again. ‘Are we clear?’

‘We’re clear,’ Rita breathed.

Aurora pulled off her tie, then yanked Rita’s hands behind her back and bound them with it. While Rita watched, she leisurely removed the waistcoat and shirt until she stood before them stripped to the waist except for a black leather bra displaying small firm tits and supple ropey muscles that might have belonged to a female body-builder. ‘Good, then let’s just see what’s so special about you that Edward would risk everything for.’

‘Shut up, Aurora.’ Edward’s back stiffened against the chair. ‘Your job is to punish, nothing more.’

‘Then stop interrupting me and let me do my job.’ Aurora grabbed both spaghetti straps and yanked them down exposing Rita’s goose-fleshed breasts. ‘Couldn’t be these that won Edward over.’ She slapped Rita’s tits in turn, then pinched her nipples until she gasped at the pain that went straight to her pussy, where it was amazingly transformed to pleasure. ‘Edward can have all the nice tits he wants, including mine.’ She grabbed Rita’s right hand and shoved it inside the plunge of her bra and over the muscular dome of her breast until her pointing nipple pressed into Rita’s palm.

Rita held her breath. Was this punishment, fondling another woman’s tits? Surely not. It felt too good.

‘Can’t be this.’ Still holding Rita’s fingers against her breast, Aurora slid her other hand under Rita’s dress. ‘No matter how much Moët et Chandon he pours into it, it’s still just a cunt, and there are plenty of cunts aching to ride Edward’s cock.’ She ran her open palm between Rita’s legs, spreading her labia, pressing against her clit, then giving it a sharp slap, chuckling as Rita flinched.

‘Doesn’t matter. I’m just here to punish you for breaking the rules.’ She grabbed the front of Rita’s dress between the side slits and yanked it as though it were a leash. Rita followed, feeling cool air on her exposed pussy.

Standing in front of a straight-back chair upholstered in chintz, Aurora undid her trousers and slid them off to reveal suspenders and black net stockings framing her shaved, panty-less mound. Then she sat down, wriggling and squirming her bottom against the chair until she was comfortable. ‘Edward, be a dear, and give me your knife.’

Rita’s pulse quickened, as Edward retrieved a large Vitronox from his pocket, which he handed to Aurora, the golden mask completely disguising any emotions her request might have elicited.

Aurora opened the knife expertly. ‘Turn around,’ she ordered.

But Rita stood frozen to the floor unable to move.

There was a hard slap across her breasts. ‘I said turn around.’

‘Do as she says, Rita.’ Edward moved behind her, placed his hands on her shoulders, and gently turned her to face him. ‘It’ll be all right.’

He pulled her into his arms and held her while Aurora grabbed the back of her dress and slit the side seams to just above her bottom, laughing softly as Rita cringed. Then she gathered the fabric into her hand and sliced smoothly across so all that remained of the back of Rita’s dress was a thin strip high across her hips and lower spine.

‘There, that’s better.’ Aurora tossed the cut fabric aside and handed the knife back to Edward. ‘Now help me with her.’ She patted her bare thighs and nodded.

He pocketed the knife and guided Rita to bend over the punisher’s lap. ‘Just get it over with, Aurora.’ The edge in his voice was nearly as sharp as the Vitronox.

‘Relax, Edward.’ Aurora stroked Rita’s arse cheeks almost tenderly. ‘Some things can’t be rushed.’

He didn’t return to the chair, but instead knelt on the floor stroking Rita’s hair and the nape of her neck. His touch was so comforting that, even though she knew what was coming, the first hard thwack against her exposed bottom made her cry out in surprise.

‘You broke the rules,’ Aurora scolded as her hand came down again, this time on the other buttock so that they both stung equally. ‘Rule breakers must be punished.’ With the next hard thwack, Rita flinched and bit the inside of her lip, tasting blood.

Edward lowered his face and took her mouth, gently suckling away the thin ribbon of red before the next smack came. ‘Shshshsh,’ he whispered. ‘Relax. It’ll be over soon, and we can be together.’ He kissed her again, then ran his hand down to caress her breasts as he lifted his head to watch Aurora’s efforts. For the first time Rita noticed he had thick auburn hair that smelled almost like moist earth after a storm.

From her awkward position across her punisher’s lap, Rita’s gaze took in the tightly stretched front of Edward’s trousers. When the next smack stung her bottom, the pain blossomed into something hot and burning low in her belly, and suddenly she knew she would gladly take her punishment to be able to see Edward’s erection, even through his trousers.

Aurora was ranting about the rules, about the reputation of The Mount and of Edward, about ignorant usurpers or some such, but Rita had stopped listening. Edward was fondling her breasts where they were uncomfortably squished over Aurora’s lap. With each kneading, and with each smack, she found herself grinding against Aurora’s bare thigh.

Edward opened his trousers and took his cock in a firm grip, positioning himself in front of her. But just as she was about to take him into her mouth, Aurora stopped spanking and with a powerful backhand, knocked Edward onto his haunches.

‘I said leave her alone, Edward, or you’ll not have her at all. Now back off.’

Cursing under his breath, he returned to his chair, not bothering to tuck his cock back into his trousers, though he probably couldn’t have if he’d wanted to.

Aurora returned her attention to Rita. ‘Look at this. You’ve soaked my leg with your cunt juices. I should punish you more for that. Stand up.’

Rita did as she was told. Aurora grabbed the front flap of her mutilated dress and yanked it tight between Rita’s legs, wedging it into her slit and tugging on it until Rita stood on her toes in an effort to relieve the pressure from the bind of fabric rubbing almost, but not quite, pleasurably against her clit.

‘It’s all right if you like punishment,’ her tormentor’s voice was suddenly honeyed and sweet. ‘See? Spanking you made my pussy wet too.’ She opened her legs, and Rita was greeted with an exquisite view of Aurora’s dark swollen pout glistening with moisture. The enforcer gave the fabric leash a hard tug, causing Rita to gasp. ‘Here’s the real punishment, chick. If you ever want to ride his cock again,’ she threw a nod at Edward whose hand was wrapped around his erection while the other cupped his balls, ‘then you’d better make me come, and come good.’ With a quick flick of her wrist, she untied Rita’s hands, then yanked on the bodice of what remained of her gown bringing her to her knees only a nose length away from the woman’s fragrant warm pussy.

Rita had never touched another woman’s cunt before, let alone tasted one. Of course she had fantasised about what it would be like, but she never imagined she’d ever actually be commanded to make another woman come. She reached out a trembling hand and stroked the incredible softness of Aurora’s shaved mound, and Aurora let out a shuddering sigh, spreading her legs even further and leaning back in the chair. She curled her fingers roughly in Rita’s hair and pulled her forward, but Rita pulled back.

‘Wait. I want to look.’

‘You can’t make me come with your eyes, bitch.’

‘Come on,’ Rita struggled to keep her voice calm. ‘You can’t honestly expect me to believe you don’t like to have your cunt admired.’

For a brief second, she thought Aurora would hit her again, but instead she chuckled softly and shifted until not only could Rita see the whole of her engorged vulva, but also the dark pucker of her anus, which clenched and relaxed each time Rita caressed and stroked between her folds.

She breathed in the high-tide scent of pussy that wasn’t hers, a scent that made her own pussy itch to be full, a scent that made her feel deliciously naughty. While she caressed Aurora’s heavy pout, she shifted and raised her hips giving Edward a good view of her own slit. He was, after all, the reason she was in this position, her bottom stinging from a brisk spanking, doing things she’d only secretly fantasised. As she fingered the creamy juices beading in the tiny cup at the bottom of Aurora’s cunt, she thought of the champagne Edward had poured in her own pussy-cup, and the urge to taste was overwhelming.

There was a trio of sighs, all in unison, at her first tentative taste of cunt. And suddenly she couldn’t for the life of her understand how even expensive champagne could enhance the flavour of such ambrosia. She slipped her hands under Aurora’s tight arse cheeks and pulled her close, burying her face deep in the woman’s slippery femaleness, feeling her moans of pleasure vibrate all the way through her body down to Rita’s probing tongue.

‘I must be getting soft,’ Aurora grunted. ‘You seem to be enjoying your punishment way too much.’ She lifted her stiletto-clad feet onto Rita’s bare shoulders to better position herself, but Rita barely noticed the digging of the heels into her clavicle. She stroked and caressed Aurora’s swollen labia with her thumbs, while she lapped and nibbled the valley in between, saliva and pussy juice dribbling down her chin, over Aurora’s dark bottom hole and onto the upholstery of the chair.

Rita couldn’t resist. She nipped Aurora’s clit just enough to make her clench and open, then she wriggled a wet thumb none too gently into the woman’s tight back grip, feeling an immense surge through her own pussy and anus as Aurora cried out and bucked against her. She could see the woman’s pussy convulse and quiver with orgasm. A woman might be able to fool a man, but she could never fool another woman. With a mirror, Rita had watched herself come, and she knew. She knew the heavy convulsion, the internal clamping down of everything followed by the little shock waves that made all those lovely pouting slippery muscles tremble and quake. Just watching was almost enough to bring her. Almost.

Suddenly Edward was on his hands and knees behind her, his fingers spreading her folds, his cock pressing against the inside of her thigh. But just as she was about to ease back onto his erection, Aurora shoved her away, then grabbed her by her hair and pulled her to her feet.

‘Damn it, Edward! She’s being punished. She doesn’t get any satisfaction. If you have to empty your balls,’ she gave herself a rough stroke, ‘do it here, or have a wank, but leave her alone. You’re the one who got her into this mess.’ She turned her attention to Rita, who she still had in an uncomfortable grip. She dragged her to a wardrobe and shoved a calf-length black leather coat at her. ‘Put this on.’ Then she grabbed the phone. ‘Bruce, have the limo brought round, now. I said put the coat on,’ she barked at Rita. ‘And get out of here.’

‘But what about my punishment? What about Edward?’

Rita barely got the words out before the door swung open and the bigger of the two bouncers took her firmly by the arm. She was able only to catch a glimpse of Edward before the door slammed between them and the bouncers escorted her away from the main restaurant and out a side exit into an alley. There, the smaller one opened the door to a waiting limo and shoved her inside.

In all the insanity and the incredible confusion of feelings racing through her, Rita barely noticed the tears until she tried to tell the limo driver where to take her. He simply raised a hand. ‘I know where you need to go, luv.’ Just then his mobile rang. He listened briefly, then hung up, and pulled out of the alley.

Rita was too miserable to enjoy the plush interior of a limo that was clearly designed for decadence. Any other time it would have been a wonderful story with which to tantalise Kate. Instead, she sat in silence, staring out into the darkened streets wondering why any of this mattered. It had been good sex, fabulous sex, and nasty, yummy experiences she’d only ever fantasised about, and who cared if she got humiliated in front of a lot of rich people, who cared if they sniggered about her in the morning over coffee. She’d never see any of them again, nor they her. And yet she hadn’t been with Edward. Why did she care? She’d never even seen his face. She knew nothing about him, and what little she did know made her angry, made her wonder if perhaps she was better off not knowing him.

Try though she might, she didn’t understand why she had not been considered worthy to play the game. The worst part was that Monday morning she would wake up, go about her job, go about her ordinary boring routine, and all this would be nothing more than a memory.

Rita’s brooding was interrupted when the limo pulled to a stop, a man jumped in and slammed the door behind him. With a flip of some hidden switch, shades descended and the privacy window snapped shut. ‘You’re not leaving before I make love to you.’

Her heart leaped to her throat. There was no denying Edward’s voice, nor his touch as he undid the belt of the leather coat and covered her breasts and belly in kisses. The driver pulled away from the curve, and Rita found herself cocooned in soft velvety darkness. What had once been her enemy was now her friend as Edward kissed the inside of her thighs. One hand stroked and caressed her heavy pout while the other fumbled to free his cock. ‘I have no more patience,’ he grunted as he shoved into her. ‘I’ve waited all night; I’ve waited all week, to be inside you.’

There was a groan of pleasure, then he pulled her close, engulfing her in his strong arms, flooding her senses with the scent of rampant maleness. With each thrust the base of his penis rubbed maddeningly against her clit. Her breasts bounced each time they pushed and shoved and humped. It didn’t take long. His balls were full and heavy as they slapped against her bottom, and his whole body was tense with the need he had been containing for hours. He was hard all over, brittle, barely able to keep from shattering as he growled and grunted. She clawed and dug her heels in, riding him until there was no breath left in either of them, until there was nothing but gnawing, clambering need, which ignited like a spark and exploded through both of them as they came together, and the limo was filled with the humid scent of sex.

For a long moment they lay, arms and legs entwined, catching their breath. Then the limo stopped in front of her flat, and Edward pulled away. ‘I can’t stay,’ he said, buttoning the coat around her. ‘If they find out I was with you before the initiation it’ll go hard for both of us,’ he cupped her cheek in the darkness, ‘but I couldn’t wait. I just couldn’t.’

‘I thought they kicked me out. I thought the game was over.’

‘The game’s just beginning. That is if you still want to play.’ He opened the door and helped her out with a long lingering kiss. ‘Oh, and if you do still want to play, it would make things easier for both of us if you’d keep what happened tonight a secret.’

‘Yeah, of course. Who would believe me anyway?’

He chuckled softly. ‘Who indeed? I’ll text you.’ He gave her one last kiss then got into the limo and was gone again just as she realised she still hadn’t properly seen his face.

Chapter Four

Sending limo. Can’t w8 2 C U. E.

That was all the text said. She received it only seconds before the door bell rang, and a man in a black suit stood in front of her. ‘I’m ordered to bring you to The Mount, Ms Holly.’

Rita’s heart was still somersaulting from the text. She still held the mobile in her hand. ‘I can’t go like this.’ Her hair was caught up in a careless pony tail. She wore a faded blue sweat-suit with pink flip-flops accessorizing her can’t-be-arsed fashion statement. ‘Just let me change and get my bag.’

‘You’re to come immediately and as you are,’ came the curt reply. ‘You won’t need your bag, or that.’ He nodded to her mobile.

‘But I –’

The man offered a seen-everything sigh. ‘Ms Holly, I promise you, there’s nothing in your possession that you’ll need tonight. Now if you please. It’s not wise to keep the Mistress waiting.’

‘The Mistress?’ She locked the door behind her, feeling naked without her usual accoutrements, and followed. ‘I thought I was going to see Edward.’

‘I’m not at liberty to answer any questions.’

Inside the limo, she tried to avoid her reflection in the tinted glass. She wore no make-up and no bra, neither of which she considered helpful in her efforts to put together the story proposal she would present to her boss tomorrow, efforts which hadn’t been going well.

It had been nearly a fortnight since Edward had made love to her in the limo and promised he would text. She moped about for over a week, jumping to attention every time she got a text, hoping against hope that every knock on the door might be him. Not that she would have known if it had been. Just when she had surrounded the soft spot at her centre with a hard shell of indignant anger at the way Edward had used her, here was the long-awaited text. The shell had cracked like an egg exposing tender, squishy feelings she was pretty sure it was a mistake to allow herself.

She made excuses whenever Kate questioned her about her evening at The Mount, excuses that had caused friction between the two friends. But, in all honesty, she hardly knew where to begin, even if Edward hadn’t asked her to keep it secret.

They were at The Mount almost before she knew it, and, for a horrifying moment, she thought the limo driver would drop her right at the front door. Instead, he pulled discreetly around behind the building, helped her out of the car, then led her inside and left her in the room where Aurora had punished her.

Now the space looked like nothing but the expensive office of someone with good taste. She stared for a long time at the chair where Aurora had spanked her bare bottom and Edward had fondled her. Then she turned to pace. Why was she putting herself through this? Yes, the sex had been amazing, but so had the humiliation and the abuse.

It was damn cheeky of Edward to assume he could summon her at his will to play more games with her. She should leave. She should just get a cab and leave. But she had no money. She had no phone. She had nothing. Nothing! These people could do whatever they wanted with her and just drop her body in the Thames. Or worse, sell her off to the highest bidder, and she could end up in Bumfuck Who-knows-where-istan doing who knows what with who knows whom!

The door burst open and she let out a yelp of surprise as Aurora walked in, this time wearing no waitress costume to cover the PVC and metal that she wore so well. She gave Rita the once-over, but made no comment on her appearance. ‘Come with me.’ She turned on her heels as if it never entered her mind that Rita might not follow.

Rita followed.

At the end of the long hall, Aurora stopped in front of the linen closet where Rita had been with Alex and opened the door. ‘You have five minutes.’ At first Rita thought the waitress was talking to her. ‘Don’t use your cock. If you do, you know she’ll find out. My arse is already on the line. I’m warning you, if I have to I’ll pry you off her with a crow bar.’ Then she shoved Rita inside and shut the door.

In total darkness, Rita stumbled backward, then strong arms embraced her, and warm breath bathed her neck. ‘I couldn’t let you go before the High Council without seeing you first.’ Edward pulled her into a hungry kiss, even in the thick darkness finding her mouth effortlessly, deeply. At the same time his hands cupped and fondled their way over more of her body than she would have thought possible in such a short few seconds. He didn’t bother coming up for air, but spoke between gulps of her mouth. ‘It’s been ten long days. I didn’t think I’d survive.’

‘You could have at least texted, and –’

He stopped her words with a deep probe of his tongue. ‘She took my mobile, and I couldn’t come to you without nullifying your right to initiation.’

She reached for his fly, but he pushed her away. ‘You heard what Aurora said. Trust me, she’s right. You don’t want to go before the High Council smelling of my semen.’ He took her face in her hands and kissed her hard. ‘I just had to reassure you that you can do this. Don’t let the council intimidate you. Remember, that’s what they’re supposed to do. It’s an initiation.’ He pulled her into a bone-crunching embrace then released her. ‘It would be bad for both of us if anyone knew I’d seen you.’

‘What difference does it make if we see each other? Why do we have to do this?’ She grabbed his hand as he turned to go. ‘And who took your mobile? What right do they have? I don’t understand.’

He gave her another toe-curling kiss, then pulled free. ‘I know you don’t, Rita, but you will in time. You have to trust me that all this, the punishment, the separation, the waiting, all of it is so we can be together. I’ll understand, darling, if you don’t go through with this. Believe me, no one will understand better than I, but I’m hoping with all my heart that you’ll see it through, that you’ll give me the chance to prove to you that it’s worth it.’ He shoved open the door and left her standing alone in the dark, wet, trembling and frustrated.

Before she could decide if she was touched that he’d made such an effort, or furious that he offered only excuses, Aurora jerked the door open.

‘Come on. It’s time.’

The waitress led her through what looked like another linen closet at the end of the hall then down a winding staircase that felt like it descended for ever. The air around them no longer smelled of leather and silk and wealth, but more like she remembered her grandmother’s garden smelling when she had dug among the rows of herbs.

When they finally reached the bottom, Aurora took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before she flung open the double doors.

At first the bright light was dazzling, then Rita realised it wasn’t bright at all, just much brighter than the darkness she had grown accustomed to in the closet and on the barely lit stairs. If she’d had to describe it, she would have said it was bedroom light.

Aurora took her by the arm and led her into the middle of a large stone chamber – not exactly a dungeon, though Rita had no trouble imagining it might be used as such. On a raised dais complete with velvet curtains, sat seven elaborate chairs, almost like thrones. Five of them were occupied.

Rita could hardly believe her eyes, but, sure enough, there at the centre on the most elaborate chair, dressed in a red gown that was only slightly less than transparent, was the elusive Vivienne Arlington Page. In the overwhelming presence of a legend, Rita could have stared at her for hours, but she forced her gaze to the other members of the High Council.

To either side of Vivienne was an empty chair. To the left sat a tall man with a neatly trimmed beard. He was dressed in khakis and held a pith helmet in his lap, as though he were about to go on safari. Next to him, Rita recognised Alex, who was dressed as though he had just come from a tango competition, black spandex trousers hugging his package suggestively.

Beyond the empty chair on the other side of Vivienne sat the woman who had led Rita to wait for Edward when she first came to The Mount. This time she wore plain black silk dressed up with emeralds. Lots of emeralds. Next to her sat a caramel-skinned man of mixed race, and it was a lovely mix. His blue-black hair was pulled back in a pony tail, revealing the sculpture-perfect lines of his face. He wore three silver hoops of graduating size in his left ear. His left arm and the left side of his exquisite bare chest and torso were tattooed like leopard skin, a tattoo that disappeared into the front of low-slung black jeans, which were tucked into leather boots. Something about his demeanour made Rita think he’d gladly let her follow the trail of leopard spots into his tight-fitting jeans.

When she was sure she had everyone’s attention, Aurora addressed Vivienne. ‘I’ve brought the candidate for initiation, as you’ve commanded.’ Surely Rita was just imagining the slight tremor in Aurora’s voice.

Vivienne paid no attention to Rita. Instead, she patted the chair next to her. Two muscle men dressed in the Armani uniform of The Mount’s bouncers came to stand on either side of Rita, then Aurora joined the council, taking the seat at Vivienne’s left.

For a long moment everyone simply stared at Rita, who tried to act as though she wasn’t staring back. At last Vivienne spoke. ‘Where’s Edward? He knows we can’t begin without him since it’s upon his petition we meet.’

‘Don’t worry,’ a voice Rita recognised as Edward’s spoke from behind the curtain, then the man in the golden mask, dressed in black tie and jacket, stepped forward and took his place in the chair to the right of Vivienne. ‘I wouldn’t miss the opportunity to present Rita to you for the world.’

For the first time Vivienne’s amber gaze came to rest fully on Rita, who suddenly had that bug-under-glass feeling. She did her best not to squirm. At last, Vivienne offered a light chuckle and took Edward’s hand from where it rested on the arm of the chair. ‘Really, darling, couldn’t you at least clean her up before you brought her before us?’

Rita felt as though she had been slapped, but the indignant temptation to turn and walk out was thwarted by the bouncer-blokes who flanked her.

‘Why should I?’ Edward responded. ‘She needs no tarting up.’ He paused before the last statement, his eyes coming to rest on Vivienne, and even Rita could see the prickle run up the woman’s spine.

But the prickle ended in a deep-throated kiss that nearly unseated Edward and had the rest of the council gasping. ‘We all need a little tarting up, Edward dear.’ Vivienne said when she came up for air. She ran a slender hand over the edge of the golden mask. ‘Look at you, trying so to hide the monster beneath from Cinderella or Red Riding Hood or whoever you’ve imagined this chick to be in your deluded fantasies.’

Vivienne turned her attention back to Rita, who was struggling now to keep from making a break for the door. ‘Girl, do you want initiation into The Mount?’ She threw back her lovely head and laughed. ‘Of course you do. Everyone does. Our job is to judge your worthiness. I already know my opinion on that, but the High Council has the final say and I shall defer to their wisdom.’

‘I’m not sure that I do, actually.’ Rita knew immediately that she had said the wrong thing.

‘Oh?’ Vivienne rose from her throne and came to stand in front of her, so close Rita could smell the rich, musky perfume she didn’t recognise. ‘That’s strange, since my enforcer tells me you took your punishment, shall we say, more than willingly, in order to continue your little game with Edward.’

‘Yeah, well I get enough abuse at work. I really don’t need more.’

Vivienne took a step closer until Rita could feel her warm breath. ‘Ah, but I’ll wager you don’t get rewarded for that abuse at work like you do here.’ Without warning, she grabbed Rita by the dishevelled pony tail and pulled her close. Somehow in one petty, insulting kiss, the bitch managed to make every part of Rita’s body ache with the want of her.

As she pulled away, Vivienne didn’t release the pony tail, but wound it around her fingers until there was barely lip distance between her and Rita, and, even this close, the woman was flawless. ‘I think you like abuse just fine, girl. In fact, I think it makes you wet. I think if I pinch your tits and slap your bottom and pull your hair until it hurts, you just might come right here in front of the whole council.’ She reached to unzip the front of Rita’s hoodie.

‘Vivienne, stop it,’ came Edward’s voice from behind the mask.

The silky chuckle was so close that Rita could almost taste it. ‘You’re right, of course, Edward. As head of the High Council, it’s hardly my place to pleasure chavs.’ While everyone watched, she returned to her seat on the dais, taking her time, smoothing her dress as it swirled around her, shaking her hair back over her shoulders. Then she spoke. ‘Bruce.’

‘Yes, Mistress Vivienne.’ The body guard to Rita’s right snapped to attention.

‘Make her come.’

Both the guard and Rita, along with the rest of the council, gasped their surprise simultaneously.

‘Pardon?’ Bruce said.

‘You heard me. Make her come. I know you’ve had fantasies about participating in what goes on in here. Now’s your chance. I don’t care how you do it. Just make her come.’

‘Vivienne, this is insane. Stop it,’ Edward growled.

Vivienne ran a hand up the inside of his thigh in a sinuous caress. ‘OK, let’s make it more interesting. Bruce, put your hand in her panties and feel her pussy. If she’s not wet, then I’ll write it off to opening night nerves, but if she is wet, then I’ll assume she’s in need of a good orgasm. An initiate must be able to focus, and we all know how hard it is to focus when one needs to come. That will be your job, Bruce, to make our little initiate come.’

Her face suddenly became sympathetic, and her gaze came to rest on Rita. ‘Of course if you consider my methods too abusive, Rita dear, you can leave without Bruce ever touching you. I’ll even send you home in a nice limo, would you like that?’

The woman’s condescension felt like ground glass in Rita’s stomach, but in spite of her best efforts to be indignant, she suspected the bitch might be right. The thought of the big bouncer checking out her state of arousal with those large, beefy fingers didn’t exactly turn her off. And better yet, she was pretty sure seeing her so played with would make Edward very hard.

‘I could save you the trouble, Bruce.’ She shot a quick glance at Edward as she unzipped her hoodie and let it drop off her shoulders to reveal her braless breasts pressing hard against a thin grey vest. ‘But I won’t.’

The bouncer seemed deliciously embarrassed by the whole situation. She wasn’t certain, but she thought she heard a collective gasp from the dais as she took Bruce by the wrist and guided his hand down into the elastic front of her trainer bottoms.

He stepped closer and his big hand moved awkwardly inside the opening she had provided. He lifted an eyebrow at the discovery that she wore no knickers. ‘Now you know my little secret,’ she said, catching her breath as his fingers grazed her tightly trimmed curls. She shifted her stance to offer him easy access. As he gave an upward thrust with his middle finger, her slick hole practically sucked him in. Then it was his turn to catch his breath.

‘Well?’ Vivienne’s voice broke into the moment.

‘She’s wet, Mistress.’ In spite of the bright flush rising on the bouncer’s cheeks and neck, even expensive Armani couldn’t hide his growing erection.

‘Then make her come.’

For an awkward moment Bruce only stood there with his hand in Rita’s sweat suit bottoms.

Vivienne cleared her throat loudly. ‘Come on, Bruce, surely you know how to make a woman come, or do you prefer men?’ She nodded to the other bouncer still standing stoically at Rita’s left. Both men blushed heroically, but at last Bruce found his voice. ‘Here? Like this?’

‘Granted, it’s not the bedroom or the back seat of a limo, but surely you can improvise. Have Gavin there help you. I’m sure he’s willing. I can see his hard-on from here. Take off her top, Gavin, go on. I know you want to see her tits. We all want to see her tits.’

Gavin wasn’t nearly as shy as Bruce. He peeled off Rita’s top; making sure to get a good grope as he did so, which she barely noticed in the sudden realisation that all eyes were now on her tits. Everyone was leaning forward as though it were opening night at the theatre, and the curtain had just risen.

The swishing of cloth drew her attention back to Gavin, who had shed his jacket and tie and was working on his buttons with one hand while pinching her nipples alternately with the other. But poor Bruce was a rabbit in the headlights, just standing there with a finger in her pussy. Strangely, that excited her.

She slid her hand inside her sweat bottoms on top of his and smiled encouragement. ‘Here, let me show you what I like. There, that’s better,’ she sighed, shifting her hips to get him right where she needed him. ‘Now put another finger in. Oh that’s nice.’ She began to rock against his hand. ‘Now use your thumb on my clit, mmm yes, like that.’

‘Come on, Bruce.’ Gavin’s husky voice brushed her neck. ‘Undress her. I want to see her cunt.’

It was then that she looked up and caught Edward’s gaze locked on her. He sat on the edge of his chair, white knuckling the arms. Holding his gaze, she pulled away long enough to step out of her trainer bottoms. This time there was a definite gasp of approval from the dais. She heard the sound of a zipper behind her and turned to find Gavin with his substantial cock in his hand.

‘She’s the initiate, not you, Gavin’ Vivienne’s voice broke into the sound of heavy breathing. ‘I said you were to help Bruce make her come. On your hands and knees.’

Gavin stopped mid-stroke and stared up at her blankly.

‘Go on. Get down on your hands and knees. Can’t you see the girl needs a place to sit while Bruce licks her pussy?’ Once Gavin was in position, Bruce guided Rita down until her bare bottom was firmly planted on Gavin’s back, as though he were a park bench. She gave him a good slicking of pussy juice as she got comfortable. Then Bruce dropped to his knees, pushed her legs apart and buried his face between her thighs.

Suddenly the man was no longer awkward. He nibbled and suckled her clit until it was a tight cherry pressing against his lips. His long tongue was muscular and agile as it snaked deep between her folds making her buck and grind against poor Gavin, who made a valiant effort to support her on three limbs while he attempted to yank on his cock. The effort nearly sent them all tumbling before he groaned his frustration and re-stabilised them on all fours.

In her peripheral vision, through the haze of heavy arousal, she saw that the man with the leopard spots had opened his trousers and sat handling his own hefty cock. Aurora and Khaki Man were getting touchy feely with each other and Alex and Emerald Lady were getting touchy feely with themselves. Only Edward and Vivienne sat unmoving, watching Rita and the two bouncers. Then, without warning, Vivienne dropped to her knees in front of Edward and suddenly his cock was in her mouth. He shifted uncomfortably in the chair, as he wound his fingers in her exquisite hair and pistoned into her accommodating lips. But his eyes never left Rita.

So she decided to give him something to look at. She pushed Bruce away and stood to the shocked groans of the council. ‘I believe in reciprocity,’ she said. She lay back against Gavin’s spine bringing both feet to rest on his shoulders. Then she motioned Bruce to move behind him. From where she lay flat on her back, she released Bruce’s thick erection and guided it into her mouth. He caught on quickly and arched over her in a stylised sixty-nine, just the perfect height to continue his tongue worship of her pussy while she sucked his cock.

When they had got used to the new position, and she was sure what she had imagined in her head could actually be accomplished by human bodies, she reached underneath Gavin and began pumping his jutting erection first with one hand then with the other, feeling his muscles tense and strain beneath her as he drew near ejaculation. Her head bounced rhythmically against his thrusting buttocks. Bruce had gone into hyper-hump in her mouth until she had to place one hand on his hip to keep him from gagging her. Performing for Edward only intensified the imminent orgasm that was building low in her belly.

The strange threesome strained and writhed, displayed as they were, in front of the High Council. She could feel Gavin’s build-up beneath her and Bruce’s in her mouth, while catching glimpses of the peripheral orgy that was happening on the dais, all against a sound-track of grunts and moans. Gavin bucked beneath her as his semen gushed over her hand and onto the floor. That was enough to send her, stiffening and arching, digging her heels into Gavin’s shoulders, trying not to sink her teeth in as Bruce followed suit and filled her mouth with his load, just as they all collapsed onto the floor.

The post-orgasmic bliss, however, was short lived as she rolled off Gavin and found herself gazing at Vivienne, wiping her mouth like the cat who ate the cream, while Edward hastily tucked his cock back into his trousers. Before she could completely decipher the upwelling of feelings that threatened to explode her chest, Vivienne stood, smoothed her dress and chuckled. ‘I wager Bruce and Gavin didn’t expect to be so rewarded this evening.’ She dismissed them with a wave of her hand, and they both left the room, their arms loaded down with crumpled Armani.

As Rita stooped to put on her clothes, Vivienne shook her head. ‘Don’t bother. We have other business to tend to before you get dressed.’ She seated herself on her throne and made a point of smoothing her hair and applying fresh lippy. The room was silent except for the zipping of flies and the rustling of expensive clothing as everyone tucked and tidied.

‘Now,’ Vivienne said, heaving a satisfied sigh. ‘Time to vote. Do we, the High Council of The Mount, believe this girl deserves an opportunity to undergo initiation into our honourable institution?’ She shifted in her chair and crossed her legs. ‘As for my part, I can see the type of display we’ve witnessed tonight on any number of internet porn sites. I can’t imagine what this girl would add, nor can I understand your fascination with her, Edward. That being the case, I vote no. And we already know Edward’s vote.’

As though everyone knew their role, first the man in khaki spoke up. ‘I also vote no.’ He said nothing else, and his face remained neutral.

‘Thank you, Leo,’ Vivienne said. ‘I can always count on you to see sense.’

‘I vote yes.’ Alex said, holding Rita in a meaningful gaze.

‘She’s really that good a fuck, is she?’ Vivienne commented.

‘I also vote yes,’ Aurora said.

‘Rory, dear, if you just need someone new to lick your pussy, you should have told me. I’m not without resources. I could have got you the best, the most expensive, even one with –’

‘Vivienne, that’s enough,’ Edward interrupted. ‘I don’t see how your running commentary is relevant to this vote.’ In his voice, there was no post-coital fondness toward the woman who had just sucked his cock.

Vivienne only shrugged. ‘Lorelei, what about you? How do you vote?’

The Emerald Lady held the same look of cool disregard she had on the night Rita had first met her. It came as no surprise when she voted no.

Leopard Man would offer the deciding vote, and Rita was outraged at herself that she cared, that she wanted him to vote yes, in spite of what Vivienne had just put her through, the thought of which still sent aftershocks through her pussy. And that made her even angrier.

For a long moment Leopard Man held her in his brown sugar gaze until she felt a blush crawl up her breasts and over her throat. Everyone in the room shifted uncomfortably.

‘Well? Morgan? I’ve got more important things to attend to.’ Vivienne scolded. ‘Do you mind hurrying it up.’

The lovely mocha face broke into a pussy-creaming smile, which was completely reserved for Rita. ‘I vote definitely.’ There was no denying the American accent.

The sexy smile was counteracted by Vivienne’s glare that would have wilted thistle. ‘So, we have an initiate. I can’t say I’m pleased, but then I’m not surprised. This is what happens when I let Edward go slumming.’ She stood and Edward stood next to her. He took her hand and escorted her to stand in front of Rita.

God, Rita wished he’d lose the damn mask. She wanted to at least have the chance to read the emotions on his face. But the bitch had taken even that away from her.

Vivienne stepped closer and pushed a loose strand of hair away from Rita’s face. ‘Did you enjoy your orgasm, darling? I certainly hope so because it’s the last one you’ll be having for a while.’ She snapped her fingers, and two men dressed like medieval dungeon guards appeared from the wings carrying a black velvet box, which one held and the other opened before Vivienne.

‘I have a little gift for you, Rita. Something to keep your sluttiness under control until I think you’re a little less skittish and a little more docile. Aurora,’ she turned her attention to the enforcer, ‘this is your domain. Would you do the honours?’

Aurora joined them in front of Rita, and from the box she took a black leather chastity belt. Rita felt a chill run down her spine. The unforgiving edges of the metal crotch glinted in the light as Aurora held it up for inspection.

Vivienne watched happily. ‘This was especially designed for you, Rita. Aurora’s explorations of your cunt combined with her photographic memory and access to the best chastity belt-maker in Europe, means that it will fit you and only you.’

The urge to run would have overwhelmed her if Rita hadn’t been trembling so hard that even standing was a struggle.

One of the dungeon guards produced a warm wash cloth that smelled of fresh herbs and handed it to Edward, who knelt in front of her and gently cleaned her pussy. To her horror, she found herself crying. Aurora placed an arm around her for support. Once Edward was finished cleaning her, he carefully fitted the thick belt around her waist, and she fought back panic as its confining grip closed in on her. Then he knelt again and pulled the strap between her legs tightening it until the metal plate pressed against her labia making penetration of even a finger impossible.

‘Don’t forget this.’ Vivienne handed him a secondary metal plate.

‘Is that really necessary, Vivienne?’ He growled. ‘She’s done everything you’ve demanded of her and more. Do you really think she’ll cheat?’

‘She has powerful urges, Edward. You above all people should know that. Now put it on.’

‘I’m sorry, Rita,’ he half whispered, as he knelt once again in front of her and reached between her legs.

She hated that she couldn’t be seriously angry without tears. But anger wasn’t all she felt, not nearly all. As she stood in front of the High Council, with Edward attaching the metal plate, all she really wanted was to be left alone.

Once the secondary plate was attached, Edward stood and handed her the key.

‘You can remove the belt whenever you want,’ Vivienne said. ‘The key is in your keeping. But once you’ve removed it, it’s been designed so it can’t be put back on. That will be an indication that you’re not a worthy candidate.’

‘You’ll wear the chastity belt until I decide you can take it off. That’s the first part of your initiation. Perhaps you think membership into The Mount is one giant orgy, but I can assure you, girl, sex is nothing without control, without discipline, without trust. And when I’m convinced you can control yourself, then you’ll be ready for the next level.’

‘Oh, and don’t think I’m stupid, Rita. I know why you’re here.’ Vivienne shot Edward an acid glance. ‘And that’s why I think you’re unfit to be an initiate. Your motives are too personal, and that’s why you’ll fail.’ She heaved a sigh. ‘Nonetheless, I’ve been outvoted, so we’ll continue with this farce.

‘Since I know your motives, it’s my duty to keep temptation from you. The best way I know to do that is to set certain ground rules. First of all, you are not to see Edward’s face until you’ve completed your initiation and are accepted as a full-fledged member of The Mount.’

Rita felt herself reeling. Suddenly there were wings hammering in her ears.

Vivienne continued. ‘Secondly, you are not to have intercourse with Edward again until you’ve successfully completed your initiation.’ She raised her hand before Rita could protest. ‘Oh don’t worry, darling, once I’ve removed the chastity belt, we’ll make sure your little pussy is well satisfied during the interim. Believe me; you won’t have time to miss Edward.’

The chastity belt bit into the tops of her inner thighs and the heavy leather of the waist band cut off all possibility of a truly deep breath. She felt claustrophobic in a way she would have never dreamed possible.

Even a claustrophobic week or two in the chastity belt she would have been willing to endure, but the whole point of going through all this was to be with Edward. She thought he wanted to be with her. Or did he? After all, he had just had a good come in the mouth of the most beautiful woman Rita had ever seen while he watched her play the slut in front of the whole High Council. Perhaps he just saw her as another diversion for the rich and bored. Her stomach felt like stone, and her eyes stung. God, she wanted out of this place, and fast.

‘Oh, and one more thing, dear,’ Vivienne said. ‘The chastity belt is your little secret. If anyone finds out for any reason, and believe me, if they do, we’ll know. Game’s over, and your initiation is nullified.’

Vivienne snapped her fingers and the dungeon guards left. It was Edward who knelt to help her into her trainer bottoms, then he slipped the vest over her head, dressing her as though she were a helpless child, and indeed that was how she felt. As he leaned forward to zip her hoodie, he whispered very softly against her ear. ‘You were magnificent. I’m so proud of you.’ He cupped her face in his hand and thumbed away the tears. ‘I’ll text you as soon as I can.’

Once again Vivienne snapped her fingers and Aurora escorted Rita back up the stairs without a word and out behind The Mount to a limo waiting to take her back home. There she still had a proposal to finish for tomorrow’s meeting, all to be made more complicated by the biting and binding of the damned chastity belt.

Chapter Five

‘That’s it?’ The corner of Owen Frank’s upper lip twitched double-time, which was never a good sign. ‘You want to do a story on an allotment run by homeless people? Look at the sign on the door, luv.’ He jammed his finger in the general direction of the outer office. ‘It says Talkabout Magazine, not Gardener’s World, not Big Issue.’

He slapped the edge of his desk so hard that his tea mug jumped, threatening to spill the contents. ‘Damn it, Rita, I hired you because your work is edgy, quirky. And so far all you’ve given me is generic.’ He stood and walked behind her, surreptitiously checking out his Majorca-tanned reflection in the plate-glass window. He always looked like he’d just had a date with an airbrush. ‘You’re not in Kansas any more, Dorothy.’ He laid solicitous hands on her shoulders and gave them a knead.

She would have squirmed out of groping range, but the chastity belt pinched when she squirmed, so she sat still. He was used to having his way with women. She’d known that when she took the position, but she had naively believed her work spoke for itself, a belief that had definitely detoured her advancement at Talkabout. ‘Seattle,’ she said.

‘What?’

‘I’m from Seattle, not Kansas.’

‘Whatever. My point is being in London is a big change and it’s enough to make anyone nervous. I know that, really I do. I’m a small town boy myself. But hon, it isn’t going to get any easier. You’ll have to buck up.’

He moved to pace back and forth in front of her, giving her the opportunity to admire his pretty-boy physique. She had to admit his choreography was always flawless. ‘I know you’ve got it in you, Rita. I’ve seen the good stuff you’ve written. You’ve just not written any of it for me. And frankly,’ he turned to face her so she could admire the front-on effect, ‘I’m really struggling to find a good reason to keep you here when I can get anyone to write generic. I want you, really I do. But I have to answer to the owners, don’t I?’ His gaze flitted to her breasts then back to her face so quickly that anyone who was less familiar with the man might have missed the subtext. If she wanted her story in his magazine, she’d have to pony up.

Her eyes stung from lack of sleep. She rubbed the corners to avoid smearing her make-up. At the moment, there’d be no ponying of any sort, even if she wanted to and she sure as hell did not. There must be something else she could offer to get him off her back, but Jesus it was hard to concentrate on anything but getting enough breath in her lungs and keeping her tender bits from being pinched.

She was such an idiot. She could have been chastity-belt-free by now. Last night, in the wee hours as she struggled to finish the proposal, she’d had three calls from her mother on the land line, calls she didn’t answer. Her number was supposed to be unlisted. Fat lot of good that did. The woman knew she was in London now. That worried her.

Somewhere between the awful itching of the belt and her efforts to master peeing through a sieve, she had made up her mind. She would suffer no more humiliation. She never wanted to be a member of The Mount in the first place. She didn’t even know what the hell that meant. And as for Edward, well if he was truly interested in her, he’d be interested whether she played Vivienne’s stupid game or not.

Then his text had come.

I no the nite was hard, but itl b so worth it. Plse trust me. I miss u terribly. Exx.

The ‘Exx’ had kept her hanging on.

Enduring Owen’s abuse in a chastity belt – surely that must be the definition of hell. It wasn’t Edward in the chastity belt, was it? Oh no, he was too busy being sucked off by Vivienne, and who knew what else they got up to after Rita had provided the evening’s entertainment. That was it! When Owen finished ranting, she’d go home and remove the chastity belt. Then she’d masturbate her pussy raw, and mail the key back to Vivienne specifically telling her what she could do with it.

Owen had got around to groping her shoulders again, in the form of a friendly massage. ‘I’d hoped to mentor you, Rita,’ he said, enjoying the view down the front of her blouse. ‘But somehow I’ve failed you. If you could just give me something, something to make me believe you’re up for this job.’

The words just came out. ‘What if I could get you an inside exclusive on The Mount?’ The minute she’d said it, she felt guilty. Thoughts of making love to Edward flashed through her head.

Owen nearly busted himself in a fit of laughter that came out in hot little puffs against the top of her head. ‘Honey, if you could get an inside exclusive on The Mount, you’d get a Pulitzer. Hell, you could have my job, or anyone else’s. Your career would be made, wouldn’t it?’ He heaved a sigh that ended in an avuncular chuckle ‘I know your situation seems desperate, darling, but there’s no need to promise what you can’t deliver. I’m sure we can work something out.’

Suddenly she could think of nothing she’d love more than to expose that bitch, Vivienne, to massive media humiliation. Visions of the woman kneeling in front of Edward with his cock in her mouth went a long way to assuage the guilt she felt at betraying him. Once the Vivienne-hate stopped making her feel like her chest might explode, she ignored Owen’s continuing rant as the realisation suddenly sunk in. The gift horse had been given to her. Here was the story of a lifetime all wrapped up with a bow and a chastity belt, an exclusive that no one else in the whole world could get. And it was all hers. She was an insider. She was an initiate. All she had to do was endure, and she was good at enduring.

‘I’ve been there,’ she said softly.

Owen stopped mid rant. ‘You what?’

‘I said I’ve been there, to The Mount. Twice.’

‘Bloody hell!’ He stumbled back to his desk and downed the rest of his tea in one burning gulp. ‘Are you serious? You can’t be serious? How could you have got into The Mount?’

She shifted in the chair to scoot forward, then thought better of it when the belt gave her a good pinch in the crotch. ‘Let’s just say I have friends there, and that chances are extremely good I’ll be invited back. Soon’

For a long moment, he studied her hard. She could just make out the flutter of his pulse against his throat. Then he leaned over his desk. ‘Can you get me in?’ His words were little more than a breathy rasp. She was certain the rumours about The Mount’s orgies and sex parties were not nearly as arousing to him as what being seen there would do for his reputation.

‘I can try.’ True enough. She could try. But she wouldn’t, not even if hell froze over.’

He drummed his fingers. ‘Mind you, I’m still not convinced you were ever there in the first place. I mean people do strange things when their jobs are on the line.’

She said nothing. She held the winning hand, and he knew it.

‘Of course,’ he added quickly, ‘if you could get me a story, even just an insider’s account of an evening there, readers would eat it up. If you can do that, well, like I said, you’re on your way up, honey.’

‘Oh I can do that.’ She leaned forward and felt the pinch. ‘I can do that and a whole lot more.’

Once Owen was convinced that Rita had actually been to The Mount, and hints had been dropped that she’d try to get him a reservation, her escape from the office was easy enough. After all, she was an investigative reporter, and as such she now had a plan of action, something to concentrate on other than the constant feeling of suffocation.

It was unusually hot in the flat for early spring, so she stripped down to the dratted belt and a thin vest and began to write, in as much detail as she could remember, the events that had led to her acceptance as an initiate into The Mount. What did it actually mean to be a member of The Mount? Did it just ensure she could get reservations for the table of her choice and free dance lessons whenever she wanted? She stroked the metal crotch of the chastity belt. Somehow she seriously doubted it.

Most of the online information about The Mount was purely speculative, a lot of it from gossip rags that claimed to know somebody who knew somebody who had an acquaintance who got reservations. Still Rita hoped to uncover something new.

There were claims that The Mount taught the dirtiest of dirty dancing, the kind that ended in the horizontal mambo. There were claims that the place was really a restaurant where rich epicureans paid massively to sample rare species of animal. There were claims of orgies and devil worship and money laundering and white slavery.

Amid all the rumours, there was one actual restaurant review from a Guardian journalist who wrote that he’d seen nothing more exotic on the menu than locally farmed ostrich meat, though he had eaten the steak Diane, and it was superb. He had added as a post-script that he had not found the dancing dirty in the least, and that it had been rather subdued the night he was there.

Later, rumours went out that the whole interview had been orchestrated, that the journalist had never actually been to The Mount, but had been hired by The Mount to take some of the heat off. This was outrageous in light of the fact that the more wild the rumours, the harder people tried to get reservations and the longer the queues were in front of the entrance every night.

Everyone knew that Vivienne Arlington Page managed The Mount, but no one seemed to know who owned it. No one knew anything beyond the fact that the empty Victorian wool warehouse had been bought up and renovated and voila! The Mount burst fully formed into the world.

The sleepless night and the stress of the past twenty-four hours made concentration hard. Rita finally turned off the computer to take a nap. She usually slept in the nude, which made the chastity belt even more of a pain, but with a heavy sigh she slipped out of her vest and pulled back the duvet.

As she did so, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror, and a flash of blinding light reflected off the metal plate that cupped her pubis in a tight caress. She hadn’t noticed that the plate below the locking mechanism was shaped like a cupping palm, as though someone had reached between her legs and rested a protective hand against her pubic bone. Still concentrating on the detail of the plate, she pulled a chair in front of the mirror and sat down, cursing under her breath at the pinch.

The pinch was always followed by an unsatisfied sense of anticipation. Sometimes when she masturbated she pinched herself down there until it almost hurt. And when she was right on the threshold between pain and something much nicer, she often had her best orgasms. Perhaps if she concentrated on the almost pleasure the pinch could provide, she’d forget about how trapped it made her feel. She opened her legs wide, and in spite of the tightness at her waist and the chafing at the tops of her thighs, she had to admire the workmanship.

She ran a hand down over the openings for her urethra and anus. She had heard somewhere, or maybe read in some nasty piece of porn on a rainy day when there was nothing better to do but curl up with her Rabbit, that some chastity belts could have butt plugs and dildos attached to them. With a sudden rush of pleasure, she imagined what it would be like if Edward were the one in control of what attachments should fill her holes. She imagined his hand pressed against her pubis like the metal plate. She imagined his fingers, or maybe even his teeth pinching her, like the plate against her vulva pinched.

Her focus, which had until now been only on the intricacies of the chastity belt, took in the entirety of her body. Her legs were splayed at either edge of the chair. Her waist looked slimmer, longer and porcelain-delicate beneath unforgiving black leather and polished metal. Above it all her full breasts seemed even fuller, crowned urgently with heavy, aching nipples that made them look like decadent twin desserts waiting to be devoured.

And the one man she wanted desperately to enjoy them was off-limits. A flash of guilt tightened her chest. She had put herself through all this for him, and now she would betray him. But if she mattered so much, then why didn’t he just tell Vivienne, with all her Mount rules, to go fuck herself.

Granted, she wasn’t nearly as pretty as Vivienne. But she knew things, things Vivienne didn’t. She cupped her breasts and stroked her nipples with her thumbs, then very carefully began to rock against the chair.

At first the pinch was shocking, making her wince and gasp. But after a little practice, she learned to rock just enough to keep the pinch stimulating without being agonizing. She did that by letting her arse cheeks do most of the moving while she squeezed from the inside, tightening those exquisite muscles designed to grasp an erect penis in that amazing internal massage that caused such pleasure.

With careful focus, she managed just enough rocking so that the pinch stimulated her vulva. With the tensing and relaxing of her girlie muscles, she imagined Edward unlocking her and filling her with his distended cock. Tense and relax, tense and relax. Edward riding her so hard. Tense and relax. And her ripping the golden mask away, tense and relax, just in time to see his face when he came. The view in the mirror drifted out of focus, the edges burnished by the afternoon sun and the encroaching tremors of imminent orgasm. At last, in a yelp of pleasure and pain, she came, trembling and convulsing against the metal plates covering her pussy, slickening them with her juices.

Vivienne didn’t know everything. If she did, she would have known a chastity belt, even one with triple metal plating, couldn’t keep Rita from coming. She was an expert at stealth orgasms. She’d been having them since she was ten, under the watchful eyes of unwitting adults, in restaurants, in classrooms, on buses. No one ever suspected just how well she’d mastered the use of her secret girlie muscles. She smiled at her flushed face shining in the mirror, then crawled into bed and slept.

‘So what’s up with you and Edward?’ Kate called from the kitchen.

Rita pretended she hadn’t heard the question.

‘Lots of rumpy pumpy, I’m guessing.’

Her voice was closer this time, and Rita looked up to find her friend standing over her with two cups of coffee. ‘Well?’

Rita returned her attention to her laptop, feigning non-interest. ‘I get a text occasionally.’

‘Come on, Ree. I don’t believe you for a second. You’re walking around like you’ve been riding a big one all night. You only walk like that for one reason, and it’s a good one.’

Actually there were two reasons, Rita thought, and the second wasn’t so good. Almost as a reminder, the metal plate pinched her sharply on the fanny, and she gritted her teeth. Just then her phone signalled a text, and Kate, who was deliciously free of the constraints of a chastity belt, grabbed it before Rita could.

‘Mmmm, yummy. Very sexy.’

‘Give me that.’ Enduring another hard pinch, Rita grabbed the phone away and read.

Less than 3 daz & I cn hardly bear it. I no how uncomfortable u must b. M damned uncomfortable myself evry time I think of u. Evry 2nd is agony. Hope u r not 2 sore. Promise I’ll make it worth every ache. EXX

Rita could feel the blush crawling up her cheek and the muscles tensing deep in her cunt. But damn, his timing couldn’t be worse.

Her friend tapped her foot on the carpeted floor and glared at her. ‘So why have you been holding out on me? Do I ever keep my love life from you? Granted there isn’t much to tell, but when there is, don’t I tell all?’

Rita tried to heave a sigh, but as with most efforts to breathe these days, it was rather unsatisfying. ‘Look, Kate, I would share all if I could, but Edward’s a very secretive person, and I’d feel like I was betraying his trust if I told. Surely you can understand.’

‘Married, is he?’

‘No! No he’s not married.’ At least she hoped he wasn’t, but she really didn’t know, did she? ‘He just feels like what goes on between two people should stay between two people.’

‘You sure he’s not married?’

‘Of course I’m sure,’ she lied. The more she thought of the goings-on between him and Vivienne, the more the doubt niggled her.

When Kate went back to the kitchen for biscuits, she quickly texted.

R U married 2 Vivienne?

The reply came back almost instantly.

God no! Y wuld U thnk that?

U 2 cm close.

Bleev me, we r not.

Sorry. Evrythng so strange.

No need 2 dout me, Darling. I promise.

Perhaps there wasn’t. But she was the one wearing the chastity belt, and Edward was the one wearing the mask.

Kate returned with biscuits and settled in her traditional position cross-legged on the sofa. She stuffed a Jaffa Cake in her mouth and spoke around it. ‘Since you won’t tell me anything, I’ve been doing my own research on The Mount, and you’d be amazed at what I’ve found.’

Rita burned her tongue on her coffee. ‘Oh? Like what?’

Just then Rita’s mobile rang and both women nearly jumped off their seats. Rita hoped it would be Edward, but it was her boss. Why the hell was he calling on a Saturday afternoon?

‘Rita, darling, you’re an angel,’ came Owen’s breathless voice on the phone. ‘I don’t know how you did it, and even a limo to take us there. I have to say, I had my doubts, but you came through for me. You really did.’

‘Owen?’

The man was on a roll. ‘When you said you could get reservations at The Mount, I should have believed you, though how you did it so quickly’s beyond me, and for the two of us.’ He chuckled suggestively.

‘I’m just calling to double check. The limo will pick you up first, then me at eight. Is that right? Ressies for eight thirty, drinks and dinner, maybe a little tripping the light fantastic?’

Rita suddenly felt nauseated. Was this a part of her initiation? Did Vivienne know her plan to write an exposé? Who else could have pulled this off? It didn’t matter who had done it, she had no choice. She hung up and made her excuses to Kate. She’d have to pick her friend’s brain for new information concerning The Mount some other time.

Chapter Six

‘She looks good in that colour, don’t you think? Rose makes her skin look like she’s had a little sun.’ Vivienne chuckled wickedly. ‘And oh, the cleavage. I can see why she’s so willing to display it, and he’s certainly more than willing to look.

‘They look good together, don’t they? Her boss is positively edible. He is her boss, you know? Lorelei heard him mention expensing the evening.’ She and Edward stood on the shadowy rise of the wrought-iron catwalk, nearly invisible to everyone below, but interested only in their initiate and her date.

When Edward made no response, Vivienne added. ‘Journalists? Talkabout magazine?’

‘So?’

‘So? Why do you think a budding journalist would bring her boss here? She smells an exposé, surely you can see that, Edward?’

‘If she wanted an exposé, her boss would be the last person she’d bring here, besides, Rita wouldn’t do that.’ Edward tugged uncomfortably on the front of his jacket feeling a strange mix of desire and jealousy at seeing Rita here in his domain with someone he hadn’t approved. And the dress, my God, all he could think about was ripping it off of her and devouring her inch by inch, a thought he couldn’t afford to be having. ‘What I’m wondering is how she managed reservations in the first place.’

Vivienne brushed an invisible speck from his cuff and smoothed his hair, which didn’t need smoothing. ‘She’s a journalist. And if she’s a good one, she’ll find a way. I’m sure Aurora would find her a table if it would get her pussy licked again. You know what a slut Rory is, and our dear Rita certainly gives Alex quite a hard-on.’

‘Neither of them could get her reservations even if they wanted to, Vivienne. You know that.’

The woman shrugged as though the whole situation bored her and looked out over the restaurant below. ‘Where there’s a will, there’s a way, and getting the story of a lifetime is definitely high motivation for a starving journalist, wouldn’t you say?’

Edward looked down to where the two sat, heads together in deep conversation, and his stomach clenched. ‘Rita wouldn’t do that,’ he repeated. ‘Rita would never do that.’

Vivienne offered a throaty chuckle. ‘My poor Edward. You’re so naïve. So trusting. I’d have thought you’d have learned by now.’

‘That’s right, I am trusting. I trust her completely.’ Still, why the hell did she have to look so hot for the man? Why did she bring him at all? None of it made any sense. He white-knuckled the rail as he watched Rita’s boss possessively push aside a lock of her hair, silky hair that he knew smelled vaguely of coconut. Was she trying to torture him because he couldn’t have her just yet, because he was being forced to wait? God, if she only knew how difficult all this was for him.

Vivienne leaned in close and kissed Edward’s earlobe. ‘She’ll betray us before the month is out. Surely you can see this. She’s only using you, using all of us to get a story.’

Edward jerked away. ‘That’s not true. She wouldn’t.’

She leaned in again and bit his ear, playfully. ‘Want a bet?’

This time he pushed her away and stepped back, his eyes still locked on the couple below. ‘What bet? What are you talking about?’

‘You know, a wager. Don’t act so innocent, Edward, darling. You know all about wagers, don’t you?’

He froze, his heart pounding in his chest. How dare she bring up such a thing here and now? But she continued as though she were merely discussing the weather.

‘I’ll wager that before her initiation is over, Talkabout magazine will run a front-page exposé on The Mount. I can see the headlines now.’ She lifted a hand in front of them as though she were placing the headline on a bill board. ‘Restaurant and Dance Club exposed as Secret Sex Cult.’ She giggled. ‘I like that, don’t you? Secret sex cult. It has a nice ring to it.’

‘That’s not going to happen.’

She held his gaze, the humour gone from her eyes. ‘Want to bet? I’ll give you a chance to win back what you’ve lost.’

Suddenly it was difficult to breathe, more difficult than it had been watching the woman he wanted to be with making nicey-nice with another man. It was true, he trusted Rita completely. He didn’t know why. He barely knew her, and yet there had been that moment on the train in the dark, before he ever saw her face, before he ever knew how outrageous she was, how well she could play the game. He just knew. He swallowed hard. ‘All right. I’ll bet you. I’ll bet that not only will Rita Holly not betray us, but I’ll bet she wins the respect of every member of The Mount and passes the initiation with flying colours. That’s what I’ll bet.’

The humour returned to her eyes. She held his gaze with that half-smile look she often gave him when she was scheming something. ‘That’s all very nice, darling, but remember, you have nothing to wager.’ The smile slipped from her lips, and she studied him. In spite of the music and laughter and the tinkling of cutlery and crystal from below, suddenly everything seemed bathed in cottony silence, and all he could hear was the hammering of his heart in his ears. Then, after what seemed forever came the response he would have never expected. ‘All right, Edward. I’ll spot you on this one. I’ve been rather generous with the terms of the last bet you lost. But this time, if you lose, I promise I’ll find new and exciting ways to make you pay.’

‘There’s something to be said for expensive wine. Go on, try it.’ Owen drank deeply. But Rita barely touched hers. She couldn’t afford to lose her wits to the wine when she suspected Vivienne of treachery.

‘You look tired, Rita.’ He studied her for a long moment over the top of his wine glass, then he heaved a sigh like he’d just solved a daunting problem. ‘I’m concerned that this story might be too much for you, I mean you really do look tired, no offence, Rita, but wow!’ He sat his glass down and leaned over the table toward her offering her his best concerned-boss face, then he continued very softly. ‘No one would argue that you’re an excellent journalist, but you’re new, and let’s face it, honey, you’re way out of your league here. You might want to consider letting me help you with this one.’

She forced a smile around her gritted teeth. ‘Thanks, Owen. But I can handle it just fine.’

He lifted his hands in a back-off gesture. ‘Just a thought. Keep it in mind in case the burden gets too heavy. You know I’m always here for you.’ Before she could respond, he changed the subject. ‘The woman with all the sapphires, do you know her?’

‘Lorelei? I’ve been introduced. Yes’

‘She really fancies me.’

Rita nearly choked on her water.

He gave a self-satisfied chuckle. ‘She is a bit cheeky, though, don’t you think? I mean the complimentary bottle of vino, the lovely show of cleavage, and me here with another woman. I hope you weren’t too upset. Is she seeing anyone?’

Rita mentally rolled her eyes. ‘It didn’t come up in the conversation.’

‘When she said dinner and drinks are on the house. What do you think she meant by that?’

Rita tried to heave a sigh and felt the pinch. ‘I think she meant you won’t have to expense the evening.’ She thought it was very decent of Vivienne not to make Talkabout pay for her vicious little scheme.

But Owen wasn’t listening. ‘Surely she’s more than just a hostess, dressed like that. She is, isn’t she? She’s somebody. I’m sure I’ve seen her before, maybe at L’Escargot. Yes I’m sure I must have. I think she might have recognised me too. Maybe that’s why the special treatment.’

‘Afraid you’ll just have to ask her.’ Rita said. She watched Owen mentally inventory the room for who could do him the most good. And at the moment, most of the people who were anybody were on the dance floor.

He drained his wine glass and stood. ‘We should dance,’ he took her hand and practically dragged her from the booth. Fortunately the music covered her little grunt of pain, and with him eyeing the who’s who on the dance floor, he didn’t notice how stiffly she moved to get up. ‘You do dance, don’t you, Rita?’

He didn’t wait for an answer. He half led, half pulled her onto the dance floor, where he promptly stepped on her foot twice as they attempted a simple fox trot. Keeping the beat seemed to be a foreign concept to him. The new discomfort growing in the pit of Rita’s stomach had nothing to do with the chastity belt. If Owen couldn’t dance – and it was eminently clear that he couldn’t – no way in hell would he be dragged onto the dance floor in a place as important to him as The Mount.

Alarm bells jangled in Rita’s head as Owen stumbled against her and grabbed at her for support. He hadn’t drunk enough wine to cause coordination problems, and it was well known that the man could hold his alcohol. He stepped on her foot again and bumped into her. ‘Owen? Are you all right?’

‘Never better.’ He laughed too loud and several couples glanced in their direction as he pulled her so close that what little breath she did have was forced from her lungs. ‘God, you smell good, Rita, ‘I’m not talkin’ ’bout your perfume.’ He chuckled suggestively against her ear, and one hand slid down to grope her arse, pulling her close enough so that there was no ignoring the enormous hard-on straining against his expensively clothed crotch. ‘I can smell when a woman wants it, ’n honey, I’m surprised you didn’t rip my clothes off ’n ride me in the limo.’

His slurred speech and sudden lack of inhibitions alarmed her even further. A quick look around assured her everyone was pretending not to notice. ‘Owen,’ she whispered urgently. ‘I don’t know what’s going on, but this isn’t appropriate.’ He swung her around awkwardly and groped her breast, then made a frightening attempt at a dip.

It was then, in her peripheral vision, she saw movement on the catwalk, a man and a woman, but before she could get a better look, Owen jerked her back to him and shoved his tongue halfway down her throat. ‘My God, Rita,’ he grunted as he came up for air, oblivious to her efforts to push him away. ‘This place makes me so horny. No wonder you come here. Musbe somethin’ in the air.’ He shoved her toward the edge of the dance floor, practically dry-humping her with every step.

‘What’s that idiot doing?’ Edward leaned over the rail so far that Vivienne grabbed the tail of his jacket and pulled him back.

She chuckled softly. ‘It’s called dancing, Edward. Some people are better at it than others.’

‘That’s not dancing. Can’t you see he’s hurting her?’

‘Hurting her? Oh, you mean the chastity belt?’

He pushed her hand away. ‘I can see it, even if you can’t. Look at the way she moves, the way she winces.’

‘Poor empathetic Edward. I’m so sorry you feel her pain.’

‘You could have at least let her wear something underneath.’

‘She’s an initiate, Edward. Initiates don’t get silk knickers with their chastity belts.’

He leaned over the rail, alarm rising in his chest. ‘What the hell is going on? He’s practically attacking her.’

‘Oh don’t worry. It’s just a little fun, that’s all.’

He felt ice in his stomach as the man stumbled and groped, then roared with laughter. ‘This is your scheming, isn’t it? You got the reservation. He’s here because of you isn’t he? Dear God, Vivienne, please tell me you didn’t give him something.’

She shrugged and smoothed the front of her dress, suddenly very interested in the beading. ‘Not me. I didn’t.’

‘Owen Frank is way too concerned about impressions to grope his employee on the dance floor of The Mount. Now what the fuck is going on?’ He pulled his mobile from his pocket and texted rapidly.

‘Oh come on, darling. It’s just a little fun.’

‘At the expense of Rita’s initiation? At the expense of a man’s dignity?’

‘What would you know about dignity,’ she pouted.

He texted.

Alex, get Rita out of there. Now! My suite.

Rory, take care of Owen Frank. He’s drugged.

Then he turned and fled, ignoring Vivienne, who called after him. No doubt she’d make him pay for that offence later.

‘Owen, what the hell are you doing? Stop it!’ Rita had managed to manoeuvre him back to the booth, but once there, he was practically on top of her. It was becoming more and more difficult to avoid the groping that might give away her secret. She squirmed and twisted to regain control and keep from making a spectacle, ignoring the pinch and squeeze of the belt which bordered on full-blown pain. Something was definitely wrong. Owen might be a twat, but he would never attack her like some horny baboon. She shoved him aside long enough to grab a water glass. ‘Here, drink this, and breathe deeply.’

He knocked the water out of her hand and spilled it down the front of her dress, which drew his attention immediately to her chilled nipples. She had only just redirected his attempt to grab her tit when his other hand found its way up the inside of her thigh. ‘Owen, stop it!’ Alarm spiked in her chest. If this was Vivienne’s doing, there would be no help for her. She was on her own.

The more she tried to disentangle herself, the more the belt pinched. Owen was frighteningly strong. She was about to take drastic measures and bash him with the wine bottle, when Alex appeared out of nowhere and pulled her away with such force that it took her breath. ‘So sorry, but, Ms Holly, you have an urgent phone call. If you would follow me.’

Almost before she was out of the way, Aurora, clothed in a sexy black mini-dress, stepped in and pulled Owen from the booth. ‘You’re Owen Frank, aren’t you?’ Her voice sounded breathy, girlish. ‘I’ve heard so much about you, and I love Talkabout magazine. I’ve been dying to meet you.’ She rubbed up against him. ‘I’m such a fan.’ She offered him a coy pout, which accentuated her full bottom lip. ‘I know someplace where we can talk, privately, that is if you’re interested.’ She offered her hand, and he followed without protest, barely aware that his date was being escorted away by one of the dancers.

Chapter Seven

Before Rita realised what was happening, Alex escorted her to an elevator hidden behind stacks of spare tables and chairs near the kitchen.

Inside, she broke into a cold sweat and would have found it difficult to stand if not for Alex’s supporting arm. She always took the stairs, which was great for the cardiovascular system, and cut way down on embarrassing incidents of hyperventilation in tight spaces.

She vice-gripped Alex’s arm and tried to focus. ‘Owen’s been drugged.’

‘I know. It wasn’t supposed to happen.’ He mistook her distress for concern. ‘He’ll be all right. Don’t worry. Aurora will take good care of him.’

‘Vivienne did this.’

Alex didn’t answer, but the muscles twitched and knotted along his jaw bone. Just as the elevator opened into blessed space, he slipped his arm tighter around her and guided her down a carpeted hallway with doors on either side. If Rita hadn’t known better, she could have easily mistaken the place for an expensive hotel. Near the end of the hall, he punched a coded security lock and the door opened into a dimly lit suite of smoked glass and chrome.

He had barely closed the door behind them when it burst open again, and Edward appeared in his golden mask. He pulled her into a bone-crushing embrace. ‘Are you all right? You didn’t drink the wine, did you?’

She shook her head, and viciously blinked back tears. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

‘God, I was so worried.’ He pulled away so violently that for a second she thought he was angry. ‘Take the dress off,’ he commanded. ‘Alex help her. Get it off her now.’

Rita made no attempt to protest as Alex stripped her until she stood in nothing but a small lacy bra, stockings and suspenders and the horrid chastity belt.

Edward stood for a long moment taking in the sight of her. Once again the golden mask hid any emotions he might be feeling. At last, he spoke, ‘Do you have the key?’

She shook her head. ‘It’s at home. I thought if I brought it I might be tempted to –’

‘To what? Fuck your boss?’

With a move that surprised even her, she slapped him hard enough that it stung her hand, hard enough that it knocked the mask askew. If she had been a little less angry and he a little slower, she might have caught a glimpse of his face.

‘I’m claustrophobic, you bastard. Remember? And my claustrophobia’s not limited to small dark rooms. I was afraid if I brought the key, I’d be tempted just to take the damn thing off.’

He cursed under his breath. From his pocket he pulled the Vitronox knife and opened it.

‘What are you doing? What’s that for? Edward, what’s going on?’ Panic rose in her throat. She stepped back, but found her way blocked by Alex.

‘I’m getting the belt off you, that’s what I’m doing.’ Edward reached for the waist band with one hand, but she pushed him away.

‘No! Vivienne said if I take it off, I fail. Leave it alone. You’ll risk everything?’ She tried to push back farther, but Alex was like a solid wall behind her, grabbing her arms to keep her from struggling.

She kicked hard, and her left foot made contact with the muscle of Edward’s calf. He grunted and cursed, then pushed in closer and took her face in one hand. ‘Damn it, Rita! Hold still. This is no longer a part of the initiation. Vivienne broke the rules by bringing Owen into the picture and drugging him. Your task for her is now void. For God sake, let me get it off of you, sweetheart. OK?’

Edward grasped the top of the belt and with a quick downward motion that a surgeon would have envied, slit the leather allowing air to rush back into her lungs. He knelt to help her step out of the cursed belt. Then his hands were on her, examining the chafed places, caressing her pubis with a feather touch. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered. His breath was cool and soothing against her burning skin. ‘I’m so sorry.’ He pulled her close, kissing her navel, cupping and kneading her buttocks. She curled her fingers in his hair and held him to her, dizzy with a cocktail of feelings she figured would take her until next Christmas to sort out.

Then Alex spoiled it all. He laid a hand on Edward’s shoulder. ‘I’m sorry, Edward, but the initiation’s not over.’

The sigh she felt against her belly sounded almost painful. ‘You’re right. It’s not.’ Edward stood and kissed her until her knees were weak and her head was buzzing, along with all the rest of her. Then he disentangled her arms from around his neck and offered her hand to Alex.

‘Take her, Alex.’ His voice was rough, as though every word abraded his throat. ‘Make her feel better.’

She felt as though she’d been slapped.

‘Are you sure?’ Alex held Edward’s gaze as he took Rita’s hand.

‘I’m sure.’

‘Edward?’ The panic was back, fear that Edward would leave. It was a stupid fear. He always left, and she never really got to see him, not really.

‘It’s all right, darling.’ It was as though he’d read her mind. ‘I’m not leaving until I’m sure you’re OK.’

She let Alex lead her into the bedroom. Edward followed close behind.

There were candles lit around the room and the bed in the middle was big enough for an orgy. Rita imagined it had probably been the venue for more than a few. Standing in front of the bed, Alex turned to face her. He stroked her cheek and kissed her ear, but she felt cold inside. As though he sensed it, he moved closer. ‘Rita, the initiation is not meant to be without pleasure or comfort.’ One hand traced the contours of her torso, down her hip, sliding a finger under the edge of the garter belt. ‘That’s what I’m here for, and you’re so desirable, so exquisite. Use me.’ He kissed her, lips parted just enough for a flick of the tongue. His breath was warm and tasted slightly of wine. ‘Edward will tell me exactly what to do, and you can pretend I’m him. Please. Let me make you feel better.’

It shouldn’t have happened, not after the trauma of the evening, not after everything she had been through this week. And yet she felt the tightening low in her belly, the bearing down, the beginnings of need that had been kindled when Edward came into her life. It was a need she could have never imagined to be so powerful, so brazen, and yet here she was about to allow herself to be fucked vicariously.

Edward nodded his approval, looking as neutral as ever from beneath the mask. He sat down in a chair close to the bed and unbuttoned his jacket.

For a few moments he simply watched while Alex reacquainted himself with Rita’s mouth, each kiss deeper and more demanding than the one before, awakening her more fully to her hunger and to the delicious fact that Edward was watching. Once again, she was performing for him. No matter how angry that made her, it was still irresistibly arousing.

‘Take off her bra, Alex. I want to see her breasts,’ Edward said.

With his mouth still deliciously engaged in the tongue dance, Alex slid his hands around her, deftly unhooked her bra, then slipped the straps off her shoulders and let it slide to the floor. She thought she heard a duet of sighs as her breasts were suddenly freed, nipples pointing insistently for their share of attention.

‘That’s good, that’s perfect,’ Edward whispered. ‘Now touch them, Alex. You’ve never felt breasts so exquisite. And her nipples are so responsive. Pinch them. That’s right. See how her areolae mound and pucker, how her nipples swell and get so big. Oh God, so big.’

It was touching, and yet disconcerting just how well Edward knew her body, so well that he could tell someone else what she liked and how she would respond. They’d not been together that often, and much of that time had been in total darkness.

‘Take off your shirt,’ Edward commanded.

Alex obeyed.

‘That’s good. Now feel the way her breasts press against your chest. Incredible, isn’t it?’

Alex groaned his pleasure, and rocked his hips against her naked pubis.

‘You’re hard, aren’t you?’ Edward said. ‘Of course you are. How could you not be? Rita, stroke his cock through his trousers. Pretend it’s my cock you’re about to undress.’

Alex caught his breath in a gasp as she gave him a hard stroke she knew was almost painful. She had to remind herself, Alex wasn’t Edward. He didn’t deserve her anger. As she eased her stroking, Alex grabbed her wrist and held her tightly against him. ‘It’s all right if you want to hurt me. I know you’re angry. You have a right to be. I promise I can take it,’ he whispered.

She shot Edward a quick glance where he sat unmoving, distant, untouchable behind his golden mask. If he was aroused, he wasn’t showing it, and that made her even more angry. The concoction of feelings erupted like a volcano, and she was suddenly tearing and ripping at Alex’s trousers, growling like an angry panther. ‘Get them off, Get out of them now.’ She shoved him onto the bed and clambered on top of him just as he kicked the trousers and boxers off. ‘Put your cock in me. Fuck me. I’m tired of this bullshit. I’m tired of waiting.’ She settled onto his cock with a hard shove, so hard that she forced the breath from his lungs, and he grabbed her hips for self-preservation. ‘Once again, I’m the entertainment, Edward. Seems like I’m always just the entertainment.’

‘Rita, stop it!’ Alex bundled her to him, still fully impaled, and rolled with her until she was underneath him, spread-eagled on the bed with her wrists pinned over her head. ‘You’re talking about things you don’t understand, now leave it.’ He ground into her hard returning a bit of her anger, and she took it willingly. She wrapped her legs around him and matched him thrust for thrust, until she was holding her breath, bordering on orgasm.

‘Bring her here,’ Edward voice sounded strangled and tight amid the chorus of grunts and moans.

With Rita still wrapped around him like a straitjacket and his cock buried to the hilt, Alex lifted her, hands under her bottom for support, and brought her before Edward, who stood and moved to sandwich her between the two men. Still fully clothed, he caressed her breasts, then traced the cleft between her buttocks, lingering to fondle her anus, his finger sinking into her tight pucker each time she thrust back. His mouth found the sensitive place along the back of her neck. Kisses became nibbles, and nibbles became bites until she thrust and bucked and squirmed in a wild frenzy, feeling like her pussy and back hole would burst into flame.

‘That’s it, Rita, pretend it’s me, pretend your initiation is over and you can use me any way you see fit. I think about that all the time. Just imagine,’ Edward whispered against her ear, shoving his middle finger fully into her anus, biting and nibbling between words. ‘I’ll be yours wholly and unreservedly.’

She came, howling and raging. Edward stepped back quickly and practically fell into the chair with a harsh grunt. Alex dropped her onto the bed with a hard bounce and pulled out just in time to turn and send a viscous arch of ejaculate into the air to land at Edward’s feet. Then he dropped to both knees on the hard wood floor gasping for breath.

For a long moment, the room was silent except for their joint struggles for breath. When the world came back into focus, Edward still sat stiffly on the chair and Alex still knelt in front of him as though he were offering fealty to his king.

At last, Edward spoke. His voice once again neutral. ‘Get dressed, Alex. Take her home. Make sure she’s OK.’

Then, just like that, he stood and left the room as though he were sleepwalking. Rita felt the burn of the anger in her stomach rekindle as she struggled back into her clothes, more determined than ever to see this bloody initiation through and get her story, though she couldn’t help wondering who would actually believe her.

A tiny Asian woman, dressed only in a string of pearls and an enormous strap-on opened the door and ushered Edward into Vivienne’s suite. She led him down the hall to the grey marble bathroom.

‘I assume you’ve been comforting your little darling?’ Vivienne sat naked on the edge of the giant marble tub, which he had often shared with her. Her legs trailed in a froth of scented bubbles. Kneeling in the tub between her thighs was an equally naked Lorelei, carefully shaving Vivienne’s pussy. The Asian woman sat down on the edge of the tub and watched the intimate ritual while stroking her strap-on.

‘You removed her chastity belt, did you? Never mind. Of course you did. You’re such a spoilsport.’ Vivienne opened her legs further while Lorelei painted thick soap from a lilac porcelain cup onto her mound and over the tops of her thighs next to the pillowed swell of her vulva. She squirmed and wriggled, adjusting her bottom until he could see the whole of her gash along with an occasional glimpse of her anus. Then she ground herself against the marble and moaned softly, pressing forward to meet the razor as Lorelei delicately scraped the blade along the edge of her thigh, holding the pouting folds of her labia first to one side then the other with perfect precision.

Vivienne loved to have her pussy shaved. Edward had done it for her often enough, and then he had fucked her until neither of them could walk straight the next morning. It was a pretty safe bet that wasn’t going to happen tonight.

She curled her fingers in Lorelei’s hair, then absently reached to stroke her own heavy breasts. The Asian woman trailed her hand in the water, then sat forward to finger her anus with the wet hand while stroking the strap-on more enthusiastically.

‘I’ll see that Alex and Rory are duly punished for helping you out.’ She shifted and Lorelei inserted two fingers into her pussy, while carefully drawing the razor over the taut mound of Vivienne’s pubis, then she laid down the razor and leaned forward placing a lingering kiss on the newly shaven skin. Edward knew how smooth it was, how soft to the touch. With her fingers still in Vivienne’s cunt, Lorelei produced a thick terry wash cloth and slowly, as though the act were deeply fascinating, washed away the remaining soap and examined her work.

‘You can’t punish them for enforcing the rules. Rules that you made, then broke.’ He tried not to watch what was going on too closely. It would do him no good to get worked up.

‘Party poopers.’ She bent and gave Lorelei a long lingering kiss, then sat back and opened her legs wide, wriggling her bottom until the her pout was within easy reach of her bather. Lorelei lowered her mouth to suckle each of Vivienne’s swollen lips in turn, slurping and licking as though she were having her favourite dessert.

‘You involved an outsider, Vivienne. Do you know how dangerous that is? How stupid?’

‘Stupid?’ She grunted and bore down against Lorelei’s mouth. ‘I doubt if the man has ever had as much fun, and all at The Mount. How he’ll brag to his friends and superiors.’ She curled her fingers in Lorelei’s hair again and pulled her closer. ‘I’m sure Rory gave him the ride of a lifetime. It’s a win-win situation.’ With a flick of her wrist, she motioned the Asian in and as if on cue, Lorelei lifted her arse out of the water so the strap-on could slide easily into her soapy cunt.

He could tell by the tension in Vivienne’s thighs and stomach and by the way her areolae rose like they were caressing her engorged nipples that she was about to come. The woman could come endlessly, and with a sense of resignation brought on by the painful tug in his crotch, he figured that was exactly what she planned to do. It was going to be a very long night.

With a little whimper and a gasp, Vivienne orgasmed, and rewarded Lorelei with a kiss before she motioned the Asian woman to her and began to stroke the strap-on while Lorelei moved to the rear to examine the woman’s pout and finger her sensitive anus, already gripping and relaxing from her auto-stimulation.

Vivienne took the strap-on into her mouth and began to deep-throat it. Then as though she had suddenly remembered he was still there, she pulled away and looked up at him. ‘Of course you’re right, darling. Rory and Alex were just doing their job, but,’ she heaved a deep-chested sigh and turned her back to him, bending over and opening her pussy for the strap on, ‘you I can punish, and I will. You’re off to bed without any pussy.’

By bed, she meant her bed, a place to which the party was more than likely to migrate relatively soon. A place where he would have to ignore the fact that everyone was coming but him. They would all make certain he was very aware of that fact.

He left the room with some relief, though not much. If he had not gone to Rita’s rescue tonight, he would have been the one rewarded with Vivienne’s full attention. That was something that he craved much less since he met Rita Holly, and, though he tried to hide it, Vivienne was not easily fooled.

Stiffly, he slipped out of his clothes to the wet sounds of pleasure coming from the next room. He tried to ignore his reflection in the mirrored walls, not an easy task since Vivienne loved to watch herself, whether she was fucking or not. As he eased his boxers down over his hips, the metal of his chastity belt flashed in the soft lamp light and reflected in the mirror.

He ran his hand over the tight weave of metal that caged his aching penis. It had been a long time since his punishments had involved the wearing of the blasted thing. And he wouldn’t have had to now if he’d been able to hide his desire for Rita a little better. Vivienne didn’t care who he fucked. It had never mattered until now. But then he had never been so bold as to bring a lover to The Mount, as to want that lover to be a part of more than just one night of his life. He stroked the metal again. Yes, he would pay dearly. Vivienne would make sure of it. But he hoped that if he took his punishment and kept his head low for a while, she would let him off the leash.

Carefully, he sat back against the head board and folded his legs into a full lotus position. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing to do in a chastity belt, but necessary, nonetheless, as he prepared himself for the meditation he used when he had to sublimate his desire, when he knew there would be no release. As he settled into position and tried to breathe deeply, his heart suddenly skipped a beat as he remembered how Rita had fought to keep him from cutting her chastity belt off, how she had refused to give in because she was determined to successfully complete her initiation. And if she did … He dared not hope what that might mean for either of them.

‘Oh God, oh God, I’m coming,’ Lorelei shouted from the bathroom over a wave of giggles and groans.

It was definitely going to be a long night. But if Rita could endure, so could he. They would endure together, and that thought eased his discomfort considerably.

Chapter Eight

‘I still think he’s married.’

‘What?’ Rita looked up at Kate, forgetting the chunk of bread in her hand and the swans and Canada geese pressing in all around. The two had decided to enjoy a spring walk through St James’s Park and get a little sun while there was some to get.

‘Edward. I think he’s married. I mean look how secretive it all is. He sends a limo and whisks you off to The Mount. Then you’re back the next day as moody as a bear, and you won’t tell me anything.’ Kate raised her hand. ‘Don’t get me wrong. I’m not being judgmental or anything. I just don’t want you to get hurt.’

Rita pulled her jacket around her against a sharp spring breeze and continued feeding the geese. She wished she could tell her friend everything. She really could use someone to talk to. ‘He says he’s not. Married, I mean.’

‘Yeah well blokes will say anything to get shagged, won’t they?’

If only it were that simple. Since Alex had returned her to her flat after the Owen incident, she’d not heard from Edward. Owen was strutting around the office bragging about his night at The Mount, so she assumed Aurora had convinced him he’d had a wonderful time. Trying to imagine Owen and Aurora together served to remind her just how indebted she was to the woman.

No one from The Mount had made any effort to explain what had happened, and she knew no more now than she did when she was in the thick of it. Anger and frustration drove her research, but so far, every angle she had tried was a dead end. As an initiate, she was no better off than anyone else in London. She had to wait to be invited, and since Vivienne had drugged Owen there had been no invites. Perhaps it didn’t matter that Vivienne had broken the rules. Perhaps Vivienne was as good as her word, and when Edward had removed Rita’s chastity belt, the initiation was over. If that were true, she would at least like to know.

She dusted the bread crumbs from her jacket and walked on. ‘You said you found some interesting things about The Mount?’

‘Possibly. I’ve been researching Victorian England, mostly the sexual mores of the time. You know, for the novel.’ Before Rita could respond, she continued. ‘I know, I know, I’ve been researching the novel for ages, but your secret encounters at The Mount inspired me.’

The novel was just a hobby. Kate made a decent, and happy, living tutoring rich foreign students in English and freelancing for trade journals.

‘What does any of that have to do with The Mount?’ Rita asked.

‘Secret societies.’

‘What?’

‘You know, there’s a secret society for everything, the Masons, the Knights Templar. I figured if it worked for Dan Brown it might work for me too. Anyway, I started researching, and I came across this, well it appears to be a secret sex cult. Mind you, it’s Victorian, but I get the feeling it might be even older. I know it sounds insane, but the coincidences are amazing.’

The butterflies in Rita’s stomach were doing the tango. If she’d had to describe her experience at The Mount so far, based on what was nearly a total lack of knowledge, a secret sex cult would sum it up pretty well. ‘Why do you think it has anything to do with The Mount?’

Kate shrugged and turned her face to the sun. ‘I don’t know, probably just read too many wild rumours in the gossip rags, you know about all the shagging and sex rituals that supposedly go on there. Still, it’s an interesting premise, don’t you think? Wouldn’t that be something if there was a lot more to The Mount than just a trendy hang-out for the rich and secretive?’

‘Yeah. That would be something all right. I’d like to read what you found. I mean since I’ve been there and all, it’s sort of interesting to me.’

Kate shivered and pulled her jacket tighter. ‘Come on, I’m freezing. Let’s have a cuppa and warm up. Liz is off to Russia, so I have the place to myself.’ Kate’s flat mate was an airy-fairy massage therapist who believed she was a Siberian shaman in a previous incarnation.

When they arrived, Kate made tea and booted up her laptop on the coffee table. The two looked on side by side, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the couch.

‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ Rita said, as Kate pulled up a vintage erotica site.

‘No, seriously. Look at this.’ With a few key strokes they found themselves looking at erotic pen and ink drawings from the early Victorian age, drawings detailed enough to make Rita’s pussy clench, and to make her blush at sharing such intimacy with her best friend. She scooted closer and squinted at the screen. ‘Are they all from Greek mythology?’

‘Some.’ Kate replied. ‘Some are modern, well as modern as Victorian stuff can be. Didn’t you say you know Latin?’

‘I can stumble through, yes. Why?’

‘Well, look at this.’ A few more key strokes and they were viewing elegant copperplate script beneath a drawing in which Mars, with his armour strewn haphazardly around him, was about to sink a very impressive erection into Venus’s exposed vulva. The script was small and smudged, but Rita could still catch the gist, and it made her pulse race in her throat. ‘It says something like; Sex is the depth of our animal nature and the highest mount of our divinity. It is our inheritance, our birthright’ She squinted closer. ‘Something about joy, sorrow and magic. It is the life force we carry within us and pass on. It is a force too powerful to be regulated by rulers or governments, or religious institutions’ The last words were smudged and cramped, but Rita stumbled on with the help of a magnifying glass. ‘We proclaim this in secret and practise it amongst ourselves. But we look to the day when we may share it with the world.’

Kate was practically on top of her. ‘I was right then, that is what it says. The highest mount of our divinity, The Mount, get it?’

‘I get it.’ Rita was finding breathing almost as difficult as she had when she wore the chastity belt. ‘It’s probably just a coincidence’. Surely it must be a coincidence. How could it possibly be that this motto, or creed or whatever it was, could have anything to do with The Mount? The two were separated by at least a hundred years. It was only a stab in the dark. It meant nothing, so why did she find it so exciting. ‘Is there more?’

‘Lots more.’ Kate sipped her tea then moved to the next page. ‘I’ve tried to find out who owns the collection these drawings belong to, but I’ve had no joy. Anyway, pretty intriguing, the idea of a secret sex cult, don’t you think? It’s just exactly what I need for my novel. There. You see.’ She lifted her cup in salute. ‘I told you, you inspired me.’

Back home Rita spent several hours poring over the site Kate had found, but no matter how she tried, she could find no actual connection between Victorian erotica and The Mount. As for the Latin inscription, she double- and triple-checked her translation and racked her brain to recall anything written in Latin in the Presence Chamber of The Mount, or anything similar in English. She’d only briefly glanced at a menu when she was there with Owen, and though she was concentrating on other things at the time, she recalled nothing unusual about it. After several hours of frustrating effort, she turned her attention back to the exquisite drawings.

She’d done a fair bit of browsing internet porn sites, but none of them had ever made her wet like this site did. She didn’t know why. It was full of old drawings, and yet those drawings felt alive, almost hypnotic, pulling her into the action. She became Venus about to be impaled by Mars, she became a young Victorian maid about to have her pussy licked by a moustached gentleman, she became Leda being seduced by the swan.

She studied the drawings with one hand in her panties, completely forgetting the reason for her research, enjoying the silken feel of herself, a thing that had intrigued her since childhood. Her breasts, her pussy, the rounded cheeks of her bottom, always, almost like magic, responded to her touch offering endless pleasure and comfort.

Whoever had done the drawings understood that desire to stroke, to pleasure, to revel in what it is that drives humans to sex – with someone or alone. She didn’t know why, but the drawings seemed familiar.

With the images coming to life in her imagination, she shut down the computer and adjourned to the bedroom, where she stripped in front of the mirror, inspecting herself, admiring the dark swell of her labia, the anxious press of her clit, peeking from under its hood as she stroked. Then she settled onto the bed legs-splayed, hips rocking against the friction of her fingers in her pout. It was just getting really good when the phone rang.

‘Hello, darling. Are you all right?’

Everything inside her trembled and warmed at the sound of Edward’s voice, and she forgot how angry she had been. ‘I’m OK. You?’

‘I’m missing you terribly. Sorry I haven’t called. I didn’t dare after what happened.’

‘I thought …’ She clenched the phone and fought back a lump in her throat.

‘You thought what, love?’

‘I thought that it was all over, that Vivienne had decided not to let me continue with the initiation, and that you’d …’

‘That I’d what?’

‘That you’d had enough.’

His laughter came as a surprise. ‘First of all, the decision of whether you continue your initiation is not Vivienne’s to make. And secondly, how can I possibly have had enough when I’m as helpless to get to you as you are to me.’ He groaned. ‘God, Rita, it’s almost beyond endurance when I want you so badly.’

He wanted her. He really did want her. She was still lost in that thought when he spoke again.

‘What are you doing?’

She looked down at her slippery fingers still nestled between her labia. ‘Masturbating.’

‘What a coincidence. I’ve got my cock in my hand right now. Knowing you’re on the other end of the phone, I couldn’t put it back in my trousers if I had to.’

She pressed the button to put him on speaker phone so her hands were free. ‘With us, it’s always fucking in the dark. I never see your face, and now I can’t touch you either.’

He chuckled. ‘There are other senses besides touch and sight and smell and taste.

Suddenly she was fighting back tears. ‘This is all that’s left to us.’

‘For now, darling. And for now, we’ll make it be enough.’

‘Are you a monster, Edward?’ She didn’t know where the question came from but once it was out there was no taking it back. ‘Is what Vivienne said the night I stood before the council true? Is there a monster behind the mask?’

There was such a long silence, she feared she had offended him, and he had hung up, but at last he spoke. ‘Vivienne’s right. I am a monster, driven by my urges, by my libido, by my cock, and if I had you here with me now, if it wouldn’t jeopardise your initiation, I would devour you in ways you can’t imagine.’

It was her turn to be silent as the weight of his words pressed in on her, making her heart race with more than a tinge of fear, but making her pussy ache for just such a devouring.

‘I told you I would understand if you didn’t want to go through with the initiation. The monster in me knew, knew from the beginning that we couldn’t be together unless you were willing to do this. But I wanted you so badly that I kept … things from you. I’m sorry.’

‘Maybe I’m a monster too.’ She buried two fingers to the hilt in her slippery cunt and stroked the growing nub of her clit with her thumb. ‘I never imagined I would do what I’ve done and fantasise about doing it again and more. I thought it was just to get to you. But …’

‘But that’s not all you want, is it?’

She didn’t answer, only listened to the acceleration of his breath on the other end of the line.

‘Rita, it’s all right that you liked fucking Alex. What’s not to like? I like fucking Alex.’

‘You’ve fucked Alex?’

His laugh was a breathless grunt. ‘That turns you on, doesn’t it? You’d like to see me fucking Alex, wouldn’t you?’

She shoved a third finger into her cunt as the mental image of Edward drilling Alex like a jack hammer translated into raw heat.

He continued, ‘You’d like to supervise the whole event, hmmm? Maybe with Aurora’s riding crop just to make sure our fucking is up to your standards. My balls ache at the thought of being bent over your knee, Mistress Rita.’

‘Mmmm, and I would spank your bottom so hard for being such a naughty boy, for teasing me like you have.’ There was no hiding her breathlessness as her cunt sucked at her fingers, nor did she try.

‘Are you humping a dildo?’ he asked.

‘My hand. Three, no four fingers,’ she grunted, shoving another one in until her hand cupped her cunt from the inside, her thumb still assaulting her clit at full tilt. ‘A dildo won’t do it when I’m thinking about you. Nothing will properly fill my pussy until I can have your cock. Where are you?’

‘A car park near Brixton. No one else is around, just you and me and the phone.’

‘And Vivienne?’

‘She wasn’t invited.’ By the uneven jerking of his voice, she could tell he was tugging his cock pretty hard.

‘Uncomfortable, are you? she asked.

‘You have no idea. I’ve not had my balls properly emptied since you did the honours in the back of the limo.’

‘In Vivienne’s mouth the other night. That must have been nice.’

‘I was fantasizing about your mouth, on the train,’ he gasped. ‘About you sucking my cock, getting it sticky with chocolate while you cupped my balls and played with your pussy. Oh God, Rita, I feel like I’m gonna burst.’

‘It serves you right. I’ve made a complete slut out of myself for want of your cock, you bastard. And when this initiation is over, oh what I’m going to do to you.’ She thrust and pumped until her arm hurt. She tugged on her nipples until they were engorged and aching. A desperate whimper escaped her throat. ‘Edward, I need you to fuck me, I need you bad, and I intend to have you.’

On the other end of the phone, all she heard was a grunt and a strangled gasp as he came, and that was enough to send her.

When the world stopped juddering, she lay curled around the phone listening to him breathe. ‘I’m doing OK then? With the initiation, I mean.’

‘You’re doing fantastically, darling. Vivienne didn’t win herself any points by trying to sabotage you like she did. Your next test is being arranged now. You can expect it any time after I hang up.’

Her stomach turned to ice. ‘What is it, Edward? Will Vivienne –’

‘Shshsh, darling. It’s OK. This test is out of Vivienne’s hands. Can you get off work for a few days?’

The question did little to settle her nerves. ‘Owen owes me big time. I can’t see there being a problem.’

‘Good. I think you’ll find this part of your initiation considerably more interesting. I have to go, darling, but I’ll check in on you. Leo won’t mind if I visit.’

‘Leo? Wait, Edward. Please tell me –’

‘Don’t worry, Rita. It’ll be OK. I promise. Now I have to go.’

The line went dead. Rita lay for a long time with the phone next to her on the pillow, drifting in and out of sleep, dreaming of Edward and what she would do to him when the initiation was over, and she could see his face. Then, as though someone had poured cold water over her, she remembered, Edward probably wouldn’t like her very much after the initiation, after her story came out. And her story would come out. She was a journalist. It was her job. People wanted to know.

There was no going back to sleep with that thought niggling at her conscience. She had just got up and rebooted the computer when there was a loud knock at the door.

Chapter Nine

In spite of what Edward had said, Rita didn’t trust Vivienne. Preparing for the worst, she swallowed frayed nerves and opened the door to find two men in blue cover-alls. Their breast pockets sported bright green logos with a stylised leopard stretched atop italic script that read, The Zoo.

One looked down at the clipboard and read off a check list. ‘Female, Caucasian, five feet ten inches tall, chestnut hair, curvy build, answers to the name of Rita?’

‘Yes?’

‘You’re to come with us. Leo’s expecting you.’ He lifted a hand to halt her words. ‘Number one rule, pets don’t talk. Number two rule, pets don’t wear clothes.’

As she slipped out of her robe, he took it from her, folded it with military precision and placed it on the credenza near the door. The other man helped her into an oversized trench coat. She was surprised that it no longer bothered her when people she didn’t know saw her naked. These days it was almost routine. The man with the clipboard nodded satisfaction. ‘All right then. Come on.’

She followed the men to a white van, where a third man waited inside by a pet carrier. He took back the trench coat and her pink flip-flops. ‘Get in,’ he said, nodding to the cage. When she balked, he brought a leather riding crop down with a crisp snap against her bare bottom. She yelped. The demanding gape of the pet carrier, way too small for her comfort, seemed to be sucking the oxygen out of the van. Her palms were icy. Her chest and forehead were suddenly bathed in cold sweat.

The second lash across her bottom was more serious. The sting would no doubt leave a welt. ‘I said get in,’ the man ordered. ‘Trust me, you don’t want to displease the Zoo Keeper.’

With her bottom stinging and her heart doing a drum roll, she did as she was told, trying to breathe deeply, willing herself not to panic. The hair on the back of her neck rose with a prickle as the lock clicked behind her and the man stuck the key in his pocket. That was the last thing she saw before the carrier was covered with a heavy black cloth, and she was left in close darkness.

After what seemed like an eternity, the van stopped. She was briefly jostled about in the carrier, then there was an angry voice from the void. ‘What have you done to her?’ She recognised an Eastern European accent. ‘I cannot accept this. She was to be treated with the utmost care.’

‘We did exactly what you said, Leo,’ came clipboard man’s nervous reply. ‘Just like always.’

She scrabbled to stabilise herself as the pet carrier was jostled from the van. In the cool glow of moonlight, she could see Leo, dressed in safari garb, shaking the heavy cloth that had been thrown over her cage at the van men. ‘She is claustrophobic, you imbeciles! The journey must have been nightmare for the poor thing. Get her out of there. Forget it. I will do. Give me the key.’

Clipboard man fumbled the key, and Leo jerked it away from him, opened the cage and with careful hands, helped her out. Her feet had barely touched terra firma before Leo scooped her into his arms, as though she were a child, and carried her away from the cage. She hadn’t realised just what a big man he was, or how strong. She didn’t mind. She wasn’t sure she could trust her own legs just yet.

He spoke words she couldn’t understand, something Slavic, she thought. She could feel their comforting rumble deep in his chest. He had voted against her initiation, she reminded herself. Best not trust any comfort coming from him.

‘She didn’t tell us, Leo,’ said clipboard man, who struggled to keep Leo’s pace. ‘I swear she didn’t tell us. You know we treat your pets good. Blanket usually calms ’em down, doesn’t it?’

‘You can read, yes?’ Leo snapped. ‘It says right on the invoice that she is claustrophobic. Edward told me take precautions.’

‘Begging your pardon, but it says nuffink about ’er being claustrophobic. I wouldn’ta missed that, would I?’

In a room that reminded Rita of the veterinarian’s office where her mother used to take her prize Burmese cats, Leo sat her down on the examination table and grabbed away the clipboard. She feared he would shred the papers as he riffled through them. The growl he offered as he shoved the clipboard back at the man was truly befitting his name. ‘Who gave you this?’

‘Lorelei. She said Vivienne had approved.’

Suddenly, Rita felt nauseated. Was there no escaping the bitch?

Leo dismissed the clipboard man, and she didn’t protest as he eased her onto her side and carefully examined the welt on her bottom, which was still tender enough to make her wince.

‘My poor darling.’ He smoothed damp hair away from her face. ‘I’m so sorry that this happened. Why didn’t you tell those men that you were claustrophobic?’

‘Pets don’t talk.’ Her voice felt scratchy against the back of her throat.

‘Pets don’t talk? What the …’ His eyes widened, his face broke into a broad smile and he kissed her forehead with such enthusiasm that she thought he might leave a bruise. ‘Of course. Pets don’t talk, and you are already obedient pet. Edward is right, you are real treasure.’ Then the smile slipped. ‘But surely you must understand that I would never do anything to harm any of my pets. I am contributor to RSPCA. I am volunteer in the shelters. I think anyone who would harm helpless animal should have their,’ he lapsed back into Slavic, and though she couldn’t understand him, she was certain what he said was not nice. Then the smile returned as quickly as it left. ‘You will see.’ He kissed her forehead again, this time more gently. ‘You will love being pet, and you won’t want to leave when time comes.’

He snapped his fingers, and a woman dressed in a zoo uniform brought water – not in a cup, but in a silver bowl. Leo carefully helped her to sit, but when she reached for the bowl, he pushed her hands aside. ‘Pets use their hands for other things, darling. Feeding you, grooming you and giving you to drink, those are responsibilities of your master.’ The woman held the bowl to her lips. She was aware of Leo gently stroking her back while she drank.

‘There. Is better now, my little dovitsa?’ Again he snapped his fingers and a man dressed in scrubs came into the room, looking more like a porn star than a veterinarian. ‘Dr Marco will examine you now. Make sure you are OK to join other pets.’ He lifted her chin. ‘Some pets must stay in quarantine for little while, but I think claustrophobia is not contagious.’ He nodded to the vet, who moved forward.

‘Oh she’s lovely, Leo. What’s her name?’ The vet took her face in his hands and carefully examined the lymph glands along a sensitive path down her neck.

‘Her name is Rita.’ Leo’s hand moved possessively to stroke her belly, and suddenly she forgot about the ordeal of getting there. ‘She has had quite a trauma, Doctor. I need to know she is OK, and that she will be comfortable to get good night’s sleep. You know how sensitive pets can be in new place.’

The doctor placed a stethoscope, warmed to body temperature between her breasts, listened, then gave a little nod. His breath was warm across her stippling areolae as he gently probed and palpated and cupped until she found it difficult not to move against his touch. At her side, Leo reassuringly stroked and caressed first her hips, then her thighs, then the soft nape of her neck. In her peripheral vision she could see that the front of his safari trousers was well tented.

‘She’s exquisite, Leo, and in excellent condition,’ the doctor said as his hands moved over her belly, pressing and palpating. ‘You’re lucky to have found such a specimen.’

‘Sadly, she is not mine. I am only borrowing her, but I shall enjoy her very much while I have her.’

‘Indeed.’ The doctor guided her on to her hands and knees and positioned her so that her bottom was only inches from his face. He traced the welt with a feather touch, tisk tisking as he did so. ‘The brutes.’

Leo stroked her flank as though he were calming a prize mare. Then the doctor eased her legs apart and shifted her hips until her cunt was fully exposed. ‘There we go, that’s a good girl,’ the doctor half whispered. ‘Hmm.’ He ran a finger down her perineum from just below her anus to separate her labia where the lips folded protectively around her pussy hole, an act that caused her to catch her breath in a soft moan. ‘She’s very wet.’ He slipped a finger up into her, and she grasped down on it involuntarily. There was no hiding it. Phone sex with Edward and what was happening to her now had left her horny as hell and wet enough to mop the examination room floor.

The doctor slid another finger into her and pressed down low on her belly with the other hand. She whimpered, shifted her hips and pressed back.

‘She needs to be serviced, Leo,’ the doctor said. ‘You can’t kennel her like this. The poor thing will never be able to sleep without some relief.’ The probing fingers had gone from examining to thrusting, and Leo was practically humping the side of the table, one hand migrating to stroke Rita’s bottom.

Leo replied with a grunt. ‘All the males are sleeping and she hasn’t been properly introduced. It would be big disruption.’

‘Shall I take care of her then?’ When the doctor brought his thumb to circle her clit, Rita practically went through the roof.

‘Leave her. If you need pleasure, you take with Fila or Rajka. They will take care of your cock, not my pet. It is the rules.’

The doctor sighed and withdrew his fingers, and Rita groaned her frustration, but Leo pushed her hand away as it slid toward her cunt. ‘Leo knows his Ritichka needs to come, but pets don’t touch their pussies. Trust me, I have something much nicer planned for little pussy.’ He produced a blue leather collar studded with rhinestones and clasped it around her neck. Then he attached a lead. ‘Come my darling.’

The doctor looked disappointed as Leo helped her from the examination table. ‘What will you do?’

‘She will sleep with Blossom tonight. Blossom will take care of her until she can be properly serviced. Now do something about that before you burst.’ He nodded to the bulge in the doctor’s trousers.

Leo led Rita into a moonlit courtyard, around a pool surrounded by a lush garden and up the path to the main house. ‘Wipe your feet, darling.’ He nodded to the braided rug just inside the door. ‘Millicent is very upset when there are paw prints all over the foyer.’

He led her down a long hallway past rooms which were visibly opulent even in the muted tones of night. At last he opened double doors into a study, lit by the soft glow from a fireplace. Bookshelves with glass doors reached from floor to high ceiling, no doubt protecting rare volumes and leather bindings. A ladder of ageing wood and wrought iron rested on rollers against one section of shelves. The furniture was comfortably worn cordovan leather, and the oriental carpets were, no doubt, expensive and hand-made. The room smelled of wood and leather and ageing volumes and Rita felt instantly at home.

Leo slipped out of his shoes and poured himself a glass of something strong and amber from a crystal decanter on an antique table near the door. Then he sat down in a large wing-backed chair in front of the fireplace. He guided her to kneel next to him and rest her head on his thigh, his bulge scant centimetres from her cheek. As he stroked her nape and smoothed her hair, she reached for his fly, but he pushed her hands away with a light slap.

‘That is no no, Rita. Pets may certainly sniff, and nuzzle, but at the Zoo pets don’t have sex with their minders. I brought you here so that Blossom could help you feel better.’

For the first time, Rita noticed the dark form of a woman lying curled on the carpet in front of the fireplace.

Leo unclipped the leash from Rita’s collar and stroked her tummy. ‘Go on now. Go introduce yourself.’ He shooed her toward the woman on the carpet whose dark eyes seemed enormous in the dancing firelight. She uncurled herself and stretched into a sitting position. It was hard to tell the exact shade of her skin, but even in the muted light of the fire it was dark. Her body was long and slender. Her small high breasts were topped with enormous melt-in-your mouth nipples.

‘Blossom is the only one of my pets that stays in house all the time. Blossom, darling, this is Rita. She has had very rough journey to be here with us, and her pussy is very uncomfortable. Make her feel at home.’ Again he made a shooing motion, and Rita moved to join Blossom on the carpet.

She had barely dropped to her knees before the other pet buried her face, nose first, in Rita’s bottom, sniffing and licking, making Rita’s cunt gape and surge. Then, she presented her lovely arse to Rita, dark hole gripping and relaxing as Rita reciprocated, at first tentatively, awkwardly, until she got the hang of it, then more enthusiastically with her growing arousal.

Once she and Rita were properly acquainted, Blossom slid her tongue in slow, even laps over Rita’s body, beginning behind her right ear and working her way down the nape of her neck on to her breasts. She pressed with the pad of her tongue, then drew her lips closed between each lick in a nip of a kiss that made Rita’s skin goose-flesh like a million tiny clits engorged with sensation. Each slide of the tongue and purse of the lips built on the last until Rita writhed helplessly beneath each caress, whimpering at the pleasure of it. Blossom licked her way over Rita’s belly and on to her hip, easing her down onto the carpet, nudging her legs apart until Rita could feel the dark pet’s warm breath against her pussy. Then she laid her head on Rita’s thigh and snaked her incredible tongue over Rita’s cunt, making her catch her breath in tight little grunts and bear down against the insinuations of mouth and lips and the occasional nip of teeth against her heavy clit.

Leo chuckled softly. ‘Our Rita does have a lovely pussy, doesn’t she, Blossom? Make her come, darling. Make her feel better.’

Rita pushed and scooted on the carpet until she could return the favour, laying her head on Blossom’s thigh and burying her face in the musky femaleness of the pet, whose clit mirrored her nipples in sheer swollen deliciousness.

‘Oh yes, that’s Leo’s good girls, that’s my horny little darlings,’ Leo breathed.

Above their own grunts and moans, Rita heard the sound of a zipper and looked up to see Leo fondling his balls free from his trousers and caressing a heavy erection. The cordovan leather squeaked in protest as his stroking grew more urgent. The wet sounds of sex mingled with the smell of animal heat, and Rita found herself wanting to growl and bite and display her swollen cunt for Leo, like a red flag before a bull. She wished he’d join them. His cock looked positively equine. She could imagine the nice tight fit, with him taking turns in her pussy, then in Blossom’s. Just then Blossom tongued her clit and nipped her with a throaty growl that sent her over the edge grunting and trembling. Blossom wasn’t far behind. Leo watched them come, his cock thrusting in his tight fist like a wild thing he struggled to tame, until at last his body stiffened and bowed back against the chair, and he ejaculated in heavy spurts onto the polished wood floor.

They must have dozed. Leo woke them some time later. The fire had burned low. He was tucked back into his khakis, and the floor was clean. ‘Come on, girls. It’s bedtime.’

Blossom followed Leo and Rita followed Blossom up to the big master bedroom. The bed was nearly as big as Edward’s. It was covered in rich Asian prints. Both pets sat on the floor near a large wardrobe and watched. Leo undressed slowly, placing all his clothing neatly over a straight-back chair, lingering to examine the hard planes of his large, well-muscled body in front of a full-length mirror, cupping the weight of his balls and penis, looking over his shoulder at the mounds of his buttocks. Rita was sure he was doing it for their benefit, and she was happy to watch. He had a wonderful body, one she would have gladly pleasured. She wondered at his refusal to fuck his pets.

At last he pulled back the duvet and sat for a minute on the edge of the bed, penis lying heavy, but relaxed against his thigh, then he cupped each pet’s cheek, gave their breasts a stroke and patted the mattress. ‘Come girls. To bed with you.’

He slid down between the sheets. Blossom crawled onto the foot of the bed, on top of the duvet and curled up with a satisfied sigh. Rita followed suit. There, blanketed in moonlight, Blossom’s fingers found their way to Rita’s pussy, relieving the tension that had returned as she had watched Leo undress. Then both pets curled around each other and slept.

Chapter Ten

In the morning the two pets followed Leo to a heavily laden breakfast table and sat on the floor near his chair. No kibbles for these pets. From his plate, he hand-fed them prosciutto, strawberries and melon and fresh pain au chocolat, caressing them and praising them as he did so. The hand-feeding Rita liked, but learning to lap water from the silver bowl with her tongue was a challenge. When Leo saw her struggles, he lifted the bowl to her lips with a smile. ‘Never mind, darling, you will get the hang of it. In the meantime we don’t want you dehydrated since you have busy day ahead of you.’

Blossom looked as dark and exotic in the morning sunshine as she had in the firelight. She had closely cropped dark curls that showcased the strong bone structure of a very African face. She was more interested in Rita than she was in her breakfast, licking and sniffing until Rita found it hard to concentrate on the lovely food.

Not that she was complaining. She found it difficult to keep her mouth off Blossom’s luscious nipples. Smeared with chocolate from the pain au chocolat, they reminded her of the delicious truffles Edward had fed her on the Eurostar.

At last, Leo pulled them apart chuckling. ‘Stop it, you two. You’re getting food all over. Such a mess you are making. This will not make Millicent happy.’

When breakfast was over, Leo delivered Rita, via a more private route, to the pet groomer back at the annexe. He explained that the other pets would be up and about by now and one sight of her would set the more high-strung males off. ‘There will be no keeping their hands off their penises if they see you. It will be practically orgy. Of course I don’t mind orgies. My pets need lots of sex. Is good for them, but all in good time, my dear Ritichka, all in good time.’

Blossom had been allowed to accompany them, and, at the sight of the groomer – another man who looked as if he could be in porn films, she ran to meet him, dropped to her knees and buried her face in his crotch, sniffing and nuzzling wildly. He didn’t try to stop her. Instead he stroked her neck and the top of her head, not bothered that he was bulging by the time Rita and Leo approached him more sedately.

‘Pets live through their noses,’ Leo explained. ‘Most of the mammals do. There is reason why dogs and cats like to sniff crotches and bottoms. Our identity is all tied up in our scent. No two of us smell the same. Only we humans have forgotten how to use gift of smell. But,’ he nodded at Blossom, ‘it all comes back quickly when we are given opportunity. Most pets find the world is more interesting place when they experience through their noses.’

On the Eurostar, hadn’t Edward talked about all the wonderful senses humans take for granted? The thought made her ache slightly. Why did everything make her think of Edward? It would be so much easier if she didn’t. She forced her attention back to Leo. ‘Go on,’ he was saying. ‘Give it a try.’ He gave her bottom a little smack and nodded toward the groomer who was smiling at her expectantly.

This was just too strange, Rita thought, but she shrugged and dropped to her knees in front of the groomer, who chuckled softly and stroked her neck. ‘Hello there. Aren’t you a beautiful thing?’

Mostly she could smell Blossom against the man’s crotch. Of course, Blossom smelled like her, after spending so much time with her face between Rita’s legs, but as the groomer’s cock surged beneath khaki shorts, she caught the scent of a man who enjoyed his work. ‘Mmm,’ the groomer sniffed. ‘Don’t you two smell like pussy this morning?’

Rita wondered if she’d ever get past blushing over the strange things that kept happening to her since her initiation began. Blossom was dismissed to play with the other pets until it was time for her own bath. Then the groomer took Rita’s collar off and guided her into a tub full of warm bubbles. ‘That’s a girl,’ he crooned. ‘Let’s get you all nice and clean.’ He knelt next to the tub. ‘Oh, such nice titties. All the males will want to play with those, and the females too, I’ll bet.’ As he ran the sponge over her, he inspected her with a running commentary. ‘Mmm, nice tight tummy muscles, pert little arse, and legs, goodness those legs go on for ever. Aren’t you a beauty?’ He turned his attention to Leo, who watched attentively. ‘Who’ll service her?’ He began to soap her breasts, paying special attention to her rising nipples. ‘Dr Marko said she needs it pretty badly.’

‘Is true. She needs male. Perhaps Brutus or Aralias could satisfy her. Would be lovely to see either of them mount her. Perhaps both. Aralias’s dark body would be stunning contrast to Rita’s pale skin. On the other hand, Brutus has nice buttocks, lovely to watch when he is thrusting.’

The groomer nodded his agreement. ‘Whichever you choose, it’ll be excellent, I’m sure.’ He turned his attention back to Rita. ‘Bend over, my lovely. Let’s get your pretty little cunny cleaned and ready for receiving guests.’

She obeyed, feeling embarrassed and insulted and incredibly horny. More so as the groomer opened her labia and dribbled warm water over her vulva. She couldn’t hold back a little sigh. ‘Oh Leo,’ the groomer gasped. ‘This is a luscious pussy and so ready she might just come on my fingers.’

‘Just bathe her, Larry. Is not your job to make her come. You know the rules.’

Fuck the rules, Rita thought. She didn’t care who serviced her, but she wished to hell somebody would. The more they talked about her as if she were a bitch in heat, the hotter she got, until she buried her wet face against the groomer’s crotch and began to lick and nip at his penis through his shorts.

Manoeuvring himself until his body obscured Leo’s view of what was going on, the groomer curled his hands in Rita’s wet hair and held her to him, his breath coming fast and furious against her back.

Thwack! Came Leo’s hand across Rita’s wet bottom. The surprise of it as much as the sting caused her to yelp and pull back. ‘Bad Rita! I told you last night, minders are off limits. Bad girl! We don’t suck our minder’s cock.’ He glared at the groomer. ‘You know better than to let her do this. If the Zoo will function smoothly, there must be rules, you know this. And those rules apply to you too, Larry. Now get her bathed.’

If anything the reprimand and the sharp smack on the bottom made Rita even more horny. She wasn’t exactly convinced that being a naughty pet was a bad thing.

By the time the groomer had her bathed and shampooed and was caressing her dry with a thick terry towel, her whole body thrummed with arousal. It wouldn’t have taken much squeezing of her girlie muscles to make her come, but the situation in which she found herself was so deliciously hot that every second of holding back, every second of waiting for Brutus or Aralias, or whoever would service her hot bitch pussy, was exquisite torture.

Leo carefully inspected her, then placed the rhinestone collar back around her neck. As he attached the lead, she felt every bit the animal she was pretending to be, rubbing her arse against his thigh and making soft little purring sounds at the back of her throat.

Leo sighed his approval. ‘Come on my beauty. Now we will introduce you to the other pets. Brutus will make your uncomfortable little pussy feel so much better.’

As they headed for the courtyard, one of the safari women came to Leo. Rita couldn’t hear what she whispered in his ear, but he nodded and handed her leash to the woman. ‘Wait here with Fila, darling.’ He stroked her neck. ‘Leo may have a surprise for you.’ Then he disappeared.

While they waited, Fila found a soft bristled brush, sat down on a metal folding chair and guided Rita to sit on the floor between her legs. Then she brushed Rita’s hair, singing to her softly in what sounded like Polish.

Rita rested her forehead on the woman’s thigh, exposed below khaki shorts. Leo was right about the sense of smell. She could just make out the salt marsh scent of the woman’s pussy beneath the perfume of lavender soap. She could feel the heat radiating from between Fila’s legs as she brushed and caressed Rita’s hair. Almost without thinking, Rita slipped her fingers between her own legs and wriggled them into the warm slippery folds of her pussy.

‘Bad girl! You mustn’t do that.’ Fila smacked the side of Rita’s bare breast with the back of the hair brush just enough to almost sting. Definitely enough to stimulate. She leaned in close to Rita’s ear, pushed the hair away and whispered. ‘Hold on just a little longer and Brutus will take very good care of your pussy.’

When Leo returned, he took up her leash. But instead of leading her into the courtyard, where the other pets were, he led her back toward the private entrance. Before they exited, he turned to Fila. ‘If Brutus cannot wait to come, then put him with Mimi. But encourage him that it will be better if he can wait.’

He led her swiftly back into the house, through a maze of hallways and corridors offering none of the running commentary she had grown used to. At last he led her into a small secluded garden and tugged her leash to pull her close to him. ‘This will be our little secret,’ he whispered. He led her along a path behind a gurgling fountain full of frolicking marble nymphs to where the foliage opened up to reveal a secluded stone bench. On the bench sat Edward resplendent in his golden mask.

‘Rita!’ He gasped coming up from the bench, but stifling his urge to run to her. ‘Leo told me what happened. Darling, I’m so sorry.’

A startled cry escaped before she could stop it. She nearly called his name, but quickly slapped her hand over her mouth as her pulse went into overdrive.

He took a step forward, as though he didn’t trust his own legs. ‘Are you all right?’

She stood next to Leo, frozen like the nymphs in the fountain.

‘She is fine, Edward. I promise you. I have taken good care of her.’ Leo stroked her hair. ‘Go to Edward, darling Ritichka. Greet him like a proper pet. Go on. It’s OK.’ His gaze held Edward’s. ‘No one need know.’

He turned his attention back to Rita. ‘Go on, darling, greet the nice man.’

She recalled what Blossom had done with the groomer, and bounded toward Edward, dropping to her knees in front of him and burying her face against his crotch. He let out a surprised gasped and tumbled backward onto the bench.

He was hard, so deliciously hard, and the scent of him was like the woods, like a summer storm, God he smelled like everything she wanted, and he was trying to push her away.

‘Rita stop, we can’t do this. I can’t control myself. You have to –’

‘Bad Rita! Bad girl.’ Leo’s hand came down with a stinging smack against her bare bottom, and she howled her frustration as he yanked the leash and sat down next to the panting Edward.

‘Edward. I am so sorry. She is pet, and not well trained yet. She can be unruly and over-enthusiastic. And, like most pets, she is always so horny.’

When Leo began to undo Edward’s fly, Rita wasn’t sure who was more in shock, her or Edward.

Edward shoved his hands away. ‘Leo, you know I’d happily let you do me, but not now.’ His voice cracked. ‘Not like this.’

‘Is not my intention to do you.’ He held Edward’s gaze. ‘Now be still, and allow me to discipline my pet.’

‘You voted against her. What are you doing? Is this a trick?’

‘Is no trick.’ Leo slapped Edward’s hands as though Edward were the naughty pet, and continued undoing his fly. ‘I have no agenda, Edward. You know is true. My reasons for voting against this initiation, they had nothing to do with anyone else’s wishes. But for me, admitting that I am wrong is not problem.’

‘Why the sudden change of heart?’ Edward was still trying to push Leo away. And Rita was surprised to find herself whimpering much like the needy animal she was pretending to be.

‘Pets don’t talk, Edward. You know this rule, yes? I have seen what she suffered to keep the rules. She is worthy.’ Both of their hands were now suspended above Edward’s crotch. ‘I know her rules too.’ He nodded to Rita. ‘I helped draft them. You may not have intercourse with the initiate. But those rules say nothing about an unruly pet who finds smell and flavour of your cock interesting.’

Edward stopped fighting and let Leo tug his trousers down until his buttocks were bare against the bench and his thick penis stood out from his body like a sleek, pussy-sized battering ram.

‘There now, is better.’ Leo inspected his work with satisfaction. ‘Now come here, darling, get Edward’s scent, that’s a girl. Leo knows that’s what you want, oh that’s my girl.’

Trembling all over exactly as she had seen excited dogs do, Rita lowered her head and took the full length of Edward’s cock into her mouth. She felt his body tense, felt his groan rumble even down through his cock. In her peripheral vision, she caught just a glimpse of him, head thrown back, mouth open, his fingers curled in her hair as he held her to him. She could feel Leo’s hand stroking her back, and his heavy breathing made her suspect his other hand might be occupied.

‘Oh God, Rita, that’s so good, so good,’ Edward grunted between barely parted lips, voice tight and breathless. ‘But it’s not fair,’ he gasped. ‘It’s not right. She deserves comfort too, Leo. Please, take care of her for me.’

‘You know the rules, Edward. I don’t fuck my pets.’ Leo’s voice came in tight little puffs against the back of her neck, and she could feel the heat radiating off his body, so close to her she could almost sense the shape of him beneath the khakis.

‘Please Leo.’ Edward pleaded, barely able to breathe. ‘Please, if you won’t do it for me, do it for her. You owe her.’

She heard Leo curse softly, and for a second, he pulled away from her. Then with a start, she felt his thick fingers slide between her parted labia to caress her clit.

‘Is all right, Darling. Lift your bottom for Leo, that’s a good girl.’ She did as she was told without losing her rhythm against Edward’s thrusting. At first there was a gentle, but insistent probing just inside her pussy lips, then she heard Leo grunt and her pussy yielded grudgingly, almost painfully, to his penetration, the very act of which made her throw back her head and howl as the orgasm she’d been holding off exploded through her.

As she lowered her mouth back onto Edward’s cock, she wasn’t sure one orgasm completely stopped before the next one blasted its way through her. She slipped both hands beneath Edward’s arse and pulled him to her in a desperate effort to get as much of him in her mouth as she could. Behind her, Leo grunted and shoved, muttering in Slavic between gasps. One hand pinched and stroked the swell of her clit while the other rested on her thrusting bottom.

Edward’s tight fist in her hair was nearly painful. ‘I can’t hold back,’ he gasped. ‘I have to come, oh God, Rita, I want to make it last, but I can’t wait.’ It seemed like he came for ages, and she swallowed hungrily, taking into herself his essence, even better without chocolate truffles. Her pussy had just erupted in another wave of orgasm when she heard Leo grunt. He pulled out so quickly that she nearly fell backward. She watched in amazement as he shot his load on to the grass, nearly doubled over himself.

Then Edward pulled her to him, kissing her long and deep. His embrace was bone-wrenching and demanding and enough to make her come again in great gasping sobs. When the tremors had stopped, and she clung to him spent, he whispered against her mouth. ‘I have to go, my darling.’ He turned his attention to Leo, who was still kneeling on the grass looking stunned. ‘I can’t thank you enough for this.’

Leo nodded and forced a smile. ‘Your feelings for each other is why I voted against initiation. This, you know will make things more difficult, cause pain.’

‘But you’ve changed your mind?’ Edward said.

Leo nodded, holding his gaze. ‘Is motives I question. Her worthiness, I do not.’

Edward helped Rita to her feet. ‘I’m so proud of you, darling. Leo will take good care of you, and I’ll see you soon.’ He kissed her, then disappeared into the thicket behind the bench still tucking and zipping as he went. She looked after him until her eyes could no longer focus, then she turned to find Leo dressed and standing next to her. He took up her leash, which was still attached to her collar, and led her back into the house and up to his room without speaking. There, he led her into the bathroom, where he stripped and guided her into the shower.

As the warm water coursed over them, she waited for him to bathe her, but he didn’t. As last, she knelt on the tiles and rested her head against his thigh. He released a long sigh and ran a hand down to caress her neck. ‘In all these years I have fed my pets, I have groomed my pets, I have enjoyed watching my pets’ pleasure, but I’ve never once fucked one of my pets. Is the cardinal rule, and I have made sure that rule is kept. Until now.’

Not knowing what else to do, she stood and slipped her arms around him. For a long moment, he didn’t respond, then he embraced her, pulling her close, kissing the nape of her neck. ‘Being inside you was exquisite. Is the best thing I have felt in a long time.’ He sighed. ‘But no one must ever know, and it must never happen again.’ He pulled away and looked into her eyes. ‘You understand this, my love?’

She nodded, suddenly aware that the moisture on her face wasn’t from the shower.

Chapter Eleven

It was evening before Leo brought Brutus to Rita. The night promised to be warm and the moon was full. Leo had led her to another secluded garden and settled her on a thick rug spread on the grass. Next to it was a chaise longue and a small wooden table complete with crystal decanter and a glass. There she had waited for an undeterminable amount of time. She was amazed at how difficult it had already become to keep track of time, and at how quickly she was learning to relax into herself and simply be. Perhaps it was just her response to the environment Leo had created for his pets.

At last Leo returned with a tall, broad-shouldered male. His skin was lightly tanned and his hair was shaved close to his head laying bare strong angular features and full expressive lips that Rita wanted pressed against her pussy. Beyond that the only thing that concerned her was his penis, which was already substantial at half-mast and rising. The moment he saw her, he strained at the leash and grunted. She took that to mean there was mutual interest.

‘Rita, darling, this is Brutus. I’ve brought him to take care of you.’

She lifted her hips and rearranged herself on the rug making sure he got a good view of her pussy.

Leo didn’t immediately unleash Brutus, who struggled and growled, every muscle tensed to get near her. Instead he let the pet get just close enough for a good sniff. Rita raised her bottom, feeling his humid breath tickle against her pout, feeling just the tip of his tongue in his strangled efforts to taste her, test her for readiness.

‘Don’t be too pushy, Brutus. Is the poor girl’s first day, be easy with her,’ Leo cajoled.

Rita didn’t necessarily want easy, but she loved the fact that Brutus had to work to get to her. She moved just close enough for him to get a good deep taste of her, then she yelped and pulled back, torturing herself as well as him. He growled and lunged toward her, his penis now fully erect and bobbing against his belly where he knelt on hands and knees. She gave him another taste and he was practically humping air when she pulled away. While Leo struggled to hold the big male, she moved behind him to admire the buttocks Leo had praised, to sniff and taste, to flick her tongue over the exposed underside of his balls, sending him into a frenzy. Oh, she liked being in control.

Leo must have intuited exactly that because he yanked Brutus back onto his haunches then flat onto his arse, securing the pet by placing a thick arm around his broad shoulders and stroking him as though he were calming a high-strung horse, exposing him for Rita’s appraisal. ‘Is all right, Brutus. Relax,’ Leo coaxed. ‘You’ll be mounting her soon enough.’

At her leisure, she sniffed and nuzzled and took in the earthy pungent scent of maleness ready for the rut, a scent that made her mouth water, and her pussy clench. Brutus’s penis surged and bobbed against her cheek and his hips ground against the grass until she feared he’d have grass stains on his much-praised buttocks.

‘Shshsh,’ Leo crooned next to the big pet’s ear. ‘Let her get used to you. Don’t frighten her. You can wait just a little longer.’

Rita wasn’t sure she could wait, but oh it was nice to try. She ran her tongue up the shaft of his erection, tasting the salty pre cum on the silky tip. Brutus’s whole body tensed, every muscle quivered, and his cock surged against her mouth. She rose on her haunches to straddle him, but when he tried to thrust into her, she grabbed his cock with her hand and rubbed the substantial length of it between her sopping lips like a sausage on hot bread. His growl was not unlike a wild animal, she thought, as she leaned in and bit him hard just above the right nipple. He yelped, his penis strained in her hand and Leo chuckled.

‘Rita, dear, you shouldn’t tease the poor thing so. He has been waiting all day for you. His balls must be nearly bursting by now. Come on, darling. You need it too.’

Of course he was right. She moved back just out of reach, not quite sure what would happen next. Her heart raced with anticipation and even a little bit of fear. On her hands and knees, she turned her bottom to Brutus, making sure her legs were open enough for him to see how ready she was, how badly she wanted him, making sure he got the invitation.

He did.

Leo unhooked the leash from Brutus’s collar, and she was instantly engulfed in warm, hard maleness. In her peripheral vision, she saw Leo settle into the chaise longue and undo his trousers. Then her attention was fully on the other pet.

She was surprised that Brutus didn’t instantly enter her. Instead he folded himself over her, penis pressing against the crevice between her buttocks, hands moving first to cup her breasts, then to explore her pussy, lips and tongue on her nape and her ear, nipping her shoulders, then the back of her neck as she had seen male cats do when they mounted ready females. Finally he slipped inside her with a sigh, quivering all over with amazing control.

She could only imagine how badly he needed to ejaculate, and the thought was such a turn-on that she decided neither of them needed to wait longer. She thrust back hard and bore down on his penis. He got the blessed message and jack hammered as though she were concrete and he planned to break her. It didn’t take long. As her pussy shuddered and she screamed her release, he grabbed her hips and thrust as though he would penetrate clear through her, and she thought he would never stop coming.

The next three times were much more leisurely, and Leo stayed for all of them.

Life at the Zoo was pretty damn good for a pet once you got the hang of it. Rita never realised just how freeing it was not to have to speak, nor had she realised how much could be communicated without a word. In her fantasies, she imagined sharing all she had learned with Edward, but she knew reality wouldn’t be so sweet once she wrote her exposé. She tried not to think about the story, but instead she tried to concentrate on the experience of initiation. Most of the time that was enough to keep her mind off what the consequences of the exposé would surely be.

But when she couldn’t manage to keep her thoughts from straying to what seemed every day more like a betrayal of trust, she did her best to convince herself that all this was a game to Leo, to Alex, to Edward, and she was really nothing more than a pawn to them. Entertainment for the bored rich. When all the usual expensive toys no longer worked, they’d always find some way of entertaining themselves, and at the moment, she was it.

Vivienne wasn’t even the cruellest among them, she told herself. Edward was much crueller. It was Edward who stood by and let the bitch torture her, sabotage her, repeatedly humiliate her. And yet still he deferred to her. Maybe they really were married just like Kate suspected. Why else would he let Vivienne come between them?

One of the best things about life at Leo’s zoo, though, was that there were plenty of distractions, and she had very little time to think about the future. She lay on the grass near the fountain in a literal pile of pets, who were all relaxing in the afternoon sun. Aralias had just fucked her twice, effectively keeping the other males away from her. He lay with his head between her breasts and his arms around her possessively. It had been a constant competition between Brutus and Aralias for her attention, though occasionally one of the other, less alpha, males managed to at least feel her up. It wasn’t her choice. As long as she was Leo’s pet, Leo chose who mounted her, and he usually chose Brutus or Aralias. She had to admit they both knew their way around female anatomy, and Brutus’s attentions had gone a long way toward making her feel better after Edward’s visit.

As for the females, they were all generous with their affection, knowing, as most women did, that having a cock in one’s pussy isn’t the only path to orgasm. In fact, she had two fingers buried to the hilt in Mimi’s tight cunny at the moment, and, the way the little blonde was squirming, Rita knew she was getting close.

The other thing most women know is that they can keep coming long after the men have shot their wads, so while Aralias’s cock was recovering from the last fuck, Blossom, who loved the taste of sex, was licking and slurping at Rita’s pussy. Leo sat in his usual chaise longue looking out over his pets with his cock in his hand.

True to his word, after Edward’s visit, Leo had not offered Rita any more affection than he offered the other pets, though her place in the house with Blossom had remained secure. Millicent, the maid, complained about the extra work of having two pets in the house. But that same afternoon Rita and Blossom caught Leo in the big wing-backed chair straining under Millicent’s squirming bottom with his face buried in the woman’s ample cleavage. After that, Millicent didn’t complain about pets in the house.

Rita was just coming again when Rajka came to Leo and whispered something in his ear. With more than a little effort, he tucked his cock back into his khakis and called for Rita. She disentangled herself from her fellow pets, who responded with a few grunts and groans of protest.

The glow of arousal was already gone from Leo’s face when Rita approached him, and he sucked his bottom lip thoughtfully. ‘Rita, darling, go with Rajka up to my suite, and I will join you in a little while.’

In Leo’s suite, Rajka undressed herself, led Rita into the shower and began to bathe her. Rita bathed with the other pets now, a veritable pool party, morning and night, with several groomers on hand to help with the hard to reach places and to towel and massage the pets before bedtime. There had been no bathing in Leo’s private suite since Edward’s visit.

By the time Rajka had towelled her dry, Leo arrived. On a hanger in one hand he held a strapless blue sundress, in the other hand he carried a pair of sandals with kitten heels.

He forced a smile. ‘You have completed this part of initiation, darling, brilliantly, I might add. Sadly, Vivienne has decided that you have been my pet long enough.’

‘She makes decisions for everyone, does she?’ The words came out after a week of silence and with far more venom than she could have imagined.

‘She is head of High Council.’ Leo dismissed Rajka, then knelt to help Rita into a black lace thong, lingering to caress her curves in ways he would have never done when she was his pet. ‘I will miss you, my love.’

When he stood to help her into the dress, she lifted her lips to his and lingered there exploring his mouth. He made no attempt to push her away. At last she spoke. ‘Being your pet has been an experience I’ll treasure, Leo. But I’m not your pet any longer.’ She ran her hand down to caress the growing bulge in his khakis. ‘Remember that the next time you want to do more than just watch.’

‘I shall, my love,’ he breathed. ‘I promise I shall.’

Millicent knocked at the door and stuck her head in. ‘The limo’s here.’ She caught Leo’s gaze. ‘Mistress Vivienne has come for her.’

Chapter Twelve

‘Rita, darling. I hardly recognised you without your hoodie.’ Vivienne motioned Rita into the limo to sit across from her, then the driver pulled away.

The head of the High Council was as exquisite in a mini skirt and a lilac bustier as she was in the dressed-to-kill gowns she wore at The Mount. Rita hated to admit it, but in spite of all the bitch had done to her, the sight of the woman was still exciting, even arousing.

Vivienne raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. ‘Come on, girl. You’re not one of Leo’s little pets any more. You can speak. After all, we’re practically family, aren’t we?’

‘I sort of enjoyed the quiet,’ Rita said, mentally high-fiving herself for being so glib.

‘Well, I certainly wouldn’t miss your horrible Mid-Western accent.’

‘I’m from Seattle,’ Rita said.

Vivienne waved her hand as though swatting away an annoying insect. ‘Never mind. I figured the ride back to London would give us some girl time. I’m sure you must have all kinds of questions about Edward, and no one knows Edward better than I do.’

When Rita made no response, Vivienne offered a little pout. ‘Surely Edward hasn’t already told you everything. Of course not.’ She raised a dumb blonde finger to her mouth and pursed her lips. ‘If he had, you wouldn’t still be here.’ She shrugged playfully. ‘Never mind, it’ll be so much fun when all is revealed.’

Before Rita could respond, Vivien leaned forward and stroked the fabric of the sun dress. ‘Lovely outfit. Leo always did have exquisite taste. I let him dress me occasionally. Only when I’m not in a hurry, though. Leo likes to take his time.’ She ran a hand down her breasts to linger on the ribbon that laced the bustier. ‘Lorelei dressed me today. She knows how to showcase my best assets.’ She chuckled softly. ‘I can tell you agree.

‘Oh don’t look so surprised. I could feel you gawping at me from the moment you got in the limo.’ She gave the ribbon a tug and it loosened. Then she slowly began to unlace. ‘You want to see what’s underneath, don’t you? You want to see my tits, I know you do.’ She gave her breasts a knead. ‘Edward likes to pinch my nipples. Nobody can make them as tight and hard as Edward can. He makes it hurt. He knows I like it. Then he bites them. He has me bouncing all over the bed when he does that. Well, whenever we’re actually in a bed.’

Vivienne pulled the bustier open as she spoke, all the while her eyes were locked on Rita. ‘Does it bother you when I talk about what Edward does to me? Do you want me to stop?’ She let out her breath slowly and shifted until her breasts were free. ‘I didn’t think so. You want to know what he does to me. You want to know because it makes you feel like you know him a little better.’ She caressed her nipples between thumbs and forefingers, then slid her right hand down between her thighs.

Rita felt as though her chest would explode with some hybrid of anger and hurt. She couldn’t listen. She daren’t. It was too much to know, too personal. And yet she held her breath, desperate for Vivienne to continue.

‘The way he touches me down there, it’s like just by fingering my cunt, he can somehow get to rest of me. All of me.’ Vivienne moaned and kicked off her strappy stilettos. With the agility of a gymnast, she slid her foot up over Rita’s belly, wriggling down in the seat until Rita caught a glimpse of the pink folds of her cunt, clean-shaven, open like a hungry mouth peeking from under the mini skirt. ‘He nibbles my clit like he does my nipples, until it hurts, and just when I’m about to cry, I come. I come so hard. Then he goes down on me, deep down, so deep that I feel like he’s worked his way completely inside of me. You know, clear up here.’ She laid a hand between her breasts. ‘Then when he comes up his face is wet from me, like he’s been in the ocean. And I taste me on him when he kisses me just before he pushes into me.’

She slid her foot up on to the bodice of Rita’s sundress, pausing to knead each of her breasts in turn with long, slender toes. Then she curled them over the top of the bodice and pulled it away from Rita’s breasts, making a little purr of a giggle at the back of her throat as Rita caught her breath. ‘Shall I tell you more?’ Then she gripped Rita’s left nipple between her toes and pinched until Rita yelped. But before she could separate the pain from the pleasure, Vivienne withdrew and pushed Rita’s knees apart with her foot. She manoeuvred cherry-lacquered toes between Rita’s thighs, and in spite of herself, Rita couldn’t hold back a little whimper as Vivienne’s agile toes curled around the crotch of her thong, pushed it aside, then wriggled in between her labia.

She felt like she would burst into flame. She wished she had the willpower to push Vivienne away, but instead, she slid down in the seat, opened her legs, and pressed onto Vivienne’s probing foot, thrusting back breathlessly.

Vivienne pulled and tugged at her own nipples, shoving the clinging bustier out of the way with a soft curse. Her other hand caressed her pout in long flat strokes. Somewhere in the back of her sex-addled mind, Rita observed that Vivienne wore no panties. Her cunt lips were swollen and splayed wide as her fingers darted in and out of her hole, and the scent of their pussies blended in the air like some exotic perfume. Rita watched in fascination as the woman tweaked her clit until it burst from beneath its hood, pearlescent with the sheen of her juices.

Vivienne continued. ‘He can hold his load for ages, Edward can. He likes to make me wait for it, beg for it.’ She bit her lip. ‘He can be so cruel sometimes. But when he’s inside me, I’m so full, so absolutely full, and I feel like if he pushes just a little harder, just the tiniest bit, I’ll explode with such force that when it’s all over, there’ll be nothing left of me.’

Then Vivienne became non-verbal, struggling to breathe, while Rita watched and ached, pressed against her thrusting toes. The woman ground her arse into expensive leather upholstery and humped the four fingers buried in her grasping cunt. Little mewling sounds escaped her throat. Her other hand assaulted her breasts in great kneading fistfuls of soft round flesh.

When Vivienne’s orgasm convulsed over her and jerked her against the seat, she gave the crotch of Rita’s thong a hard yank with her toes, tugging it tight between the folds of Rita’s pussy, holding her splayed open and unsatisfied against the fabric, forcing her to watch while she came. She held Rita there while she caught her breath, then she released her, wiped her foot on the inside of Rita’s thigh and slipped it back into her shoe. ‘You’re a voyeur at the gate, Rita, ogling what you can’t comprehend, but think you want.’ Her eyes were ice, her lips were drawn tight against her teeth. ‘As for my relationship with Edward, well you couldn’t begin to understand what Edward and I share, so stop trying.’

Rita felt as though she had been gut-punched. She could do nothing but gape in a cocktail of shame and anger as Vivienne fumbled in her bag for a silk handkerchief, leisurely wiping and caressing her folds before she laced her breasts back into the bustier and straightened her skirt.

Luckily, Vivienne’s mobile rang, and she chatted happily to Lorelei about some planned trip to the south of France. It was as though Rita were not even there. She tidied herself, burning with anger and frustration, unable to believe she had let the bitch get to her, and on such a basic level. How could she have let anyone reduce her to this, to begging for glimpses into Edward’s sex life, private glimpses that were not hers to have. But then none of it was hers to have. That was the problem. She didn’t belong in this world.

All the more reason to finish the initiation, minimise contact with Edward, and just do her work. Once the exposé was out, she could take her pick of jobs and never look back. This was the break she needed, she reminded herself for the hundredth time. She should be thanking Vivienne for the stiff kick-in-the-ass reminder.

When the limo arrived at Rita’s flat an hour later, Vivienne was still on the mobile and offered no good-bye, no sign that she had even noticed Rita leaving.

Inside her flat, Rita started the kettle then listened to the messages on her mobile that had accumulated while she was away. Most of them were from Owen, wondering how their big project was coming along and asking if she could email him Rory’s address, if she had it. It took her a few minutes to realise he was talking about Aurora.

She had barely got the coffee made and the computer booted, when her mobile signalled an incoming text.

R U alrite? Sorry abt V bringing U home. U wr amazng at L’s. U r always & endlessly amazing, my love. Thank U! EXX

It took a tremendous amount of restraint, but she didn’t respond to the text. Vivienne was right. She didn’t know anything about Edward. She wouldn’t even know him if she met him on the street. How could she so easily and completely allow herself to forget something so disturbing?

The flat felt stuffy from being shut up all week. She opened the window next to the computer and breathed in the fresh air. As she pushed back the curtains, she noticed a lone car setting beneath the street light. The man inside seemed to be peering up at her flat. She squinted. Surely he wasn’t looking through binoculars?

She quickly stepped back and pulled the curtains. Vivienne was making her paranoid. It was probably just someone who had pulled over to make a phone call. Maybe the wife had phoned him to pick up a curry on the way home. She turned back to the business at hand.

The best way to deal with The Mount and all its bullshit was research. She started back at the beginning. Every journalist knows how easy it is to miss the obvious when she’s looking for something bigger.

After being trapped in a limo for two hours with the bitch, Vivienne seemed like a good place to start. Rita googled her, as she had before, and found exactly what she had found before. Vivienne Arlington Page managed The Mount. Part of The Mount’s appeal was Vivienne’s Garbo mystique. She was a master of showing herself at the right time in the right place, to the right people, but only very sparingly.

If information on Vivienne was scant, it was non-existent on Edward. He wasn’t mentioned in any of the write-ups she could find about The Mount. There was no last name, no first name, no photos, no Edward at all mentioned in connection with The Mount. There was a brief mention of Lorelei Grimes Slater, Leo Peregrine Banacek, Alexander Felix Benton, Morgan Tennyson Hanes, even Aurora Lytton Barnet. And though information on any of them was sketchy at best, there was absolutely nothing on Edward. It was as though he didn’t exist. And certainly without a last name, there was no pursuing him further.

The thought of Edward’s apparent non-existence gave her a chill. How had she missed this before? Had she just not wanted to see? Vivienne said he was a monster. Vivienne said if Rita knew his secrets, she’d have nothing to do with him. She chafed her goose-fleshed arms, then remembered the window was open. As she stood to close it, she noticed the car had not moved, and the driver was definitely looking up at her flat with binoculars.

Damn The Mount! Damn the day she had ever set foot in the place. It wasn’t bad enough that they had invaded her life, now they had to watch her 24/7 as well. That was it. She’d had enough of Vivienne’s shit. She had no one’s number but Edward’s mobile, which she really didn’t want to use tonight. But, damn it, she wasn’t going to be spied on. She texted.

Y is V hvng my flat watched!?

Only seconds later she got a response.

No 1 frm TM watching your flat. Stay put. Sending someone 2 chk out situ. EXX

Sending someone! Goddamn it, he was always sending someone, never coming himself. Just as she was about to have a good rage, she noticed the message light blinking on the land line. She picked it up and listened to the message.

‘Rita, darling. I’m so sorry for my part in all that’s happened. You’re my daughter and I love you. Please can’t we make this right? Please call me.’

There were four more messages just like it. As she deleted them, she suddenly realised what was actually happening, and she dropped onto the sofa still clutching the phone in her hand. Of course it wasn’t Vivienne spying on her. She grabbed her mobile and texted Edward.

My mistake. Bloke stopped to use mobile

she lied. She wasn’t about to tell Edward that her own mother was spying on her. Jesus, the woman couldn’t have picked a worse time.

To her surprise, and disappointment, there was no text back.

Chapter Thirteen

‘You Ms Holly?’ The delivery man asked.

She found herself fighting the urge to lie, not sure what Vivienne and The Mount would throw at her next.

‘This is for you.’ He handed her a large oblong box in brown-paper wrapping and eyed her curiously as she signed his electronic pad. No doubt he was wondering what sex toys the pervy chick had ordered that arrived in brown paper. He’d be shocked if he knew what the pervy chick actually got up to. She offered him a sweet smile, and he blushed before turning quickly and disappearing down the hall.

In the privacy of her lounge, she opened the box to discover a black leather cat-suit heavily weighted with zippers, snaps, chains and other pieces of metal which made Rita shiver to even contemplate. She was pretty sure the suit weighed as much as she did. The costume was complete with thigh high boots, a bomber jacket, and a hand-written note that read:

Don’t touch, don’t fondle, and don’t experiment. Just put on the suit and nothing else, then wait for me.

Morgan

Visions of the high councilman with the leopard tattoo flashed through her head – and her cunt.

Morgan needn’t have worried that she would experiment or play with the suit, and certainly not that she might put something on under it. There was barely room for skin under it. With the efforts of a contortionist and a fair amount of cursing out loud, she finally got it up over her hips and shoulders, but thoughts of zipping it above her navel made her break out in a cold sweat.

She didn’t have to wait long before there was a soft knock on the door. A glance through the peep hole assured her that it was Morgan. The intriguing tattoo was completely covered in black leather, all topped off with a heavy bomber jacket. She opened the door just enough to let him in.

Immediately his brown sugar gaze took in the unzipped front of the suit and the way her arms were folded protectively over her breasts.

She blushed hard. ‘I’m sorry, but I’m –’

‘Claustrophobic. Yes I know, kitten.’ She noticed the tiniest bit of Western twang. ‘Edward threatened me about it ad nauseam downstairs just now. That’s what took me so long.’

Her heart suddenly leaped into her throat. ‘Edward’s downstairs?’

‘Well, he was. I sent him home. I’m here now, luv, and I promised I’d take good care of you.’

She tried to sound matter-of-fact. ‘How long had he been down there?’

‘Ever since he got your text about someone spying on you.’

‘Why didn’t he come up?’

He held her gaze. ‘Sweet cheeks, you know why he didn’t come up.’ He changed the subject. ‘Now about this lovely suit. Just let me help you with it, and you’ll see why it’s so perfect for someone who suffers from your affliction.’

She struggled to drag her thoughts back from Edward as Morgan coaxed her arms away from her chest and released a long sigh at the sight of her breasts barely covered by the unzipped front of the cat suit. ‘Oh we’re gonna have so much fun.’ He covered her lips in an open mouth kiss that tasted of caramel and coffee. His tongue flicked across her hard palate and wrestled lightly with hers. He slipped his right hand inside the cat suit to cup her breast and raked a thumb over her heavy nipple. Then he rolled it against his index finger until the pinch of it was so close to pain that she held her breath waiting for it. Or was it pleasure she waited for?

Morgan’s chuckle was hot against her mouth. ‘You’re so full of anticipation, kitten, so full of needs you don’t even know about yet. I smell it on you, all of it and more.’ He lowered his mouth to her nape and bit. And she definitely felt pain, but her pussy felt something a whole lot nicer.

Then as though he were about his everyday business, he began to fiddle with the chains on the front of the suit. She could see little of what he was doing, but she could hear a snap here and a chink there and occasionally feel the cool metal against her sternum. At last he pulled away and inspected his work.

Where the zipper would have confined her tits into a breathless hug, there was a loose lacing of chain linked and criss-crossed bustier-fashion revealing the mounds of her breasts while concealing nipple and areola. ‘There,’ he breathed. ‘That’s better, isn’t it?’

He walked around behind her to take in the over-all effect. ‘Ever ridden a Harley?’

‘Motorcycle? No.’

‘Don’t look so frightened, sweetness. I’ve been riding since I was a pup.’ His lips curled into an edible smile. ‘I promise I’ll make it good for you.’

He knelt and helped her into the boots, lingering to suckle her toes and kiss her insteps before guiding her feet into the soft insides then slowly zipping them up and up and up. At last he stood and held the bomber jacket for her. ‘Our steed awaits.’

Outside a few neighbourhood teenagers had gathered around to admire the biggest, sleekest vintage Hog Rita had ever seen, complete with silver wings painted stylistically across the petrol tank along with the words, Pegasus III. It took her a few seconds to realise that the boys’ attention had shifted away from the Harley. ‘Could we please go,’ she whispered, feeling like she did in her dreams when she found herself suddenly naked at the office or in the queue at Sainsbury’s.

But Morgan took his time buckling her into the helmet, making sure it wasn’t too tight, making certain she wasn’t claustrophobic. When she started to get on behind him, he shook his head, scooted back slightly and patted the leather seat in front of him.

She balked. ‘Isn’t that illegal?’

‘Not if we don’t get caught.’ He patted the spot in front of him again and chuckled. ‘Trust me. It’s the best seat in the house.’

Trying to ignore the mutterings and the stares of the teenagers, she climbed on the Harley in front of him, a little less gracefully than she had planned. Fortunately the resulting blush was contained within the helmet.

Morgan knew only one speed and that was suicidal. The g-force of acceleration strong-armed her back against his chest with a yelp that was fortunately drowned by the roar of the Hog. It seemed to her that Morgan was taking the fastest way out of town, weaving in and out of traffic with such terrifying manoeuvres that she feared heart failure was imminent. They had only gone a few blocks when she gave up shouting at him to stop. He either couldn’t hear, or was ignoring her.

As the traffic lessened, and he headed out on the A3, she realised he was controlling the Hog with one hand. The other arm was wrapped low around her waist. There was an electronic crackle next to her ear, and his voice filled the inside of her helmet. They had contact. ‘Just relax, sweetness. This is gonna be so good.’

His hand slid lower on her belly until it rested against her pubic bone where it began to fumble until she felt a tug and a zip, and suddenly cool air bathed a horizontal swath of flesh exposed to the night. ‘I love zippers. Don’t you?’ His voice was like a kiss against her earlobe.

There was more tugging and zipping until she felt the pressure of the cat suit lessen against her crotch, as though she had just split her trousers. She caught her breath.

‘Mmm, there. Oh that’s nice.’ His voice was inside her helmet again just before his fingers slid down between her folds and pressed up into her in such a way that the vibration of the big bike beneath them seemed amplified as though it were a giant vibrator. She was suddenly in danger of forgetting that she was in danger of losing life and limb. My God, the bloke’s fingers were expressive as he slipped the middle one deep into her cunt while his thumb raked her pebble-hard clit.

He swerved to pass a lorry. ‘We’re gonna die!’ she yelped inside her helmet. Then she bore down against his hand and the vibration of the Hog, hoping he could keep from crashing until after she came.

She didn’t know if he had heard her yelp, but she wondered if he’d heard her thoughts. ‘Lift your bottom,’ his velvety voice filled her helmet again.

‘Are you crazy?’ She gasped.

‘Trust me. Lift your bottom. Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe. I promised Edward, didn’t I?’

She held her breath, cursing between her teeth, and struggled to do as he said. She grabbed on to the petrol tank until she was sure her fingernails would dig holes in the paint. Then she squealed as another zipping loosened the hug of the cat suit even further until she was certain the whole crotch of the garment had been zipped away. As if to confirm her suspicions, Morgan’s large hand now stroked her from behind, spreading her lips.

‘Sweet Jesus, you’re slippery, kitten. I believe you really like riding a Hog.’ Then she felt him inch forward on the seat.

He wouldn’t … Surely he couldn’t … ‘Oh my God,’ she gasped. What was crowding against her bottom and nestling up to her pout was too thick and too stiff to be his finger.

‘That’s my girl,’ came the voice in her helmet. ‘Lift your bottom for me. Just a tiny bit more now. Almost there. I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall.’ He tightened his arm around her and manoeuvred his hips. ‘That’s it, oh yes that’s the place I want to be. Jesus, Rita Holly, that’s some hot pussy you got there.’ Then all she could hear was accelerated breathing followed by a hard thrust that nearly sent her over the handle bars but for the strong arm wrapped around her. And he was in. Her pussy felt like it would split in two from the sudden, unexpected fullness.

‘That’s my girl. Now lean forward. All the way forward and let the Hog do the work. She felt him change down, and the beast rumbled beneath them. With the substantial length of him so far up inside her, she felt physically compelled to lean forward over the petrol tank until she could feel the cool chains of the cat suit pressing into her bare flesh, until her erect nipples felt like they’d drill clear through the tank.

Then with a hard thrust, Morgan scooted forward again, and she heard him sigh. After that the thrusting and manoeuvring became much more subtle, using the power of the Harley roaring beneath them as the driving force. He had positioned himself perfectly so that each undulation of his hips drove her distended clit against the vibrating leather of the seat. My God, she thought, it was a brilliant way to die.

His breath was soft little grunts inside her helmet coming faster and faster until she thought he must have stopped breathing altogether. The movement of his groin against her became less and less, all the while building in intensity until each minuscule shifting penetrated up her spine clear into the crown of her head, until she was certain the imminent orgasm would surely explode her brain.

When his ejaculation erupted inside her, she felt as though his cock had suddenly expanded to fill the entire space within her pelvic girdle, and her own orgasm tightened and gripped on him until he cried out.

She would have surely catapulted off the Hog with the double explosion in her pussy had Morgan not held her tightly with his free arm, as they sped down the A3 toward the Guildford exit.

She wasn’t sure she hadn’t passed out completely with the intensity of their dual orgasm atop all that horsepower. They were now hurtling down some back road in rural Surrey. Morgan was still controlling the bike with one hand. The other found its way inside her bomber jacket and between the chains to knead and caress her breasts until she was once again bearing down to take advantage of the vibrations of the Hog.

At last he pulled on to a farm road and drove the Harley inside an open barn. There he turned off the engine, dismounted and took off both their helmets. As he moved to shut the door, she couldn’t help feeling a frisson of fear cold and low against her spine.

Near the door he flipped on a light switch that cast the cavernous space into a wild array of dancing shadows, but at least it wasn’t pitch dark. Then he turned to face her, eyes black in the gloom. ‘Now, kitten, I’ll educate you in the pleasures of a Hog, and more specifically the pleasures of a Hog in that suit you’re wearing. Lose the jacket.’

She hurriedly obeyed.

He shifted her until she straddled the seat with her back now facing the petrol tank and handle bars. Then he climbed aboard the big bike as he would if he were getting ready to take a Sunday drive, pushed forward toward her and reached for her breasts. A loud zipping noise echoed into the room causing her to jump.

Zippers that she thought were to breasts pockets were actually pockets to her breasts. Morgan manipulated her tits from openings similar to those she had seen on night dresses for nursing mothers. And nurse he did, noisily, greedily until she found herself practically humping the big bike just from the feelings being generated in her breasts by his mouth.

While she squirmed he lowered both hands to her thighs, but instead of lifting her onto his lap as she expected, there was more zipping and both legs of her cat suit detached. With a little more tugging and zipping, he pulled the detached leggings free from the high boots and tossed them on the straw-covered floor. She lifted her arse off the seat and whimpered, sighing with hopeful relief as he chucked off his bomber jacket and practically crawled on top of her, pressing her back until her spine arched against the petrol tank.

He raked splayed hands along her ribs, breasts and shoulders then coaxed her arms up over her head until she curled her fingers around the handlebars to brace herself. Metal clinked and jangled, and with a little manoeuvring on Morgan’s part, the chains she thought had been decoration on her sleeves became handcuffs securing her to the handlebars.

She cried out in alarm and struggled, but he pressed his middle finger into her snatch and soothed her fears with pleasure. ‘There, there, sweetness. Trust me. It’ll be so good. So very good.’

Once she stopped struggling, he began to unzip what was left of the suit. She watched in fascinated arousal as Morgan uncovered her bit by bit, a zipper here, a snap there. As the leather fell away, Rita could hear the detaching and reattaching of the chains that had adorned the suit. The heaviest link he had augmented with chains from the panniers of the bike, chains that bound her to the petrol tank, encircling her just above and below her breasts in tight bindings that crossed and twisted between her tits and forced them upward and outward until they bulged like over-inflated balloons atop her chest. The pressure made her nipples and areolae swell and ache.

The leather cuffs of the sleeves remained to soften the rubbing of the chains that bound her wrists. The high leather neck, now fastened by metal buckles, formed a collar not unlike the blue pet collar she had worn for Leo, but thicker and much more sinister with its heavy metal rivets. It was attached to a strip of leather running down her spine and ending in a buckle just above her coccyx. It was all that was left of the cat suit.

Attached to the front of the collar by a spring clip was another chain, which Morgan had also taken from the panniers. It clipped into the chains that crossed between her breasts, then ran down over her belly where it ended in a buckle that lay loosely just above her pussy.

At last, Morgan stepped back and inspected his work. ‘Almost finished sweetness. Just have to add the finishing touches.’ Once again he dug in the panniers and pulled out a leather strap about as wide as the crotch of her knickers. It contained two holes.

She squirmed as Morgan attached it to the chain resting low on her belly. He offered her a wicked, but somehow reassuring smile. ‘Don’t worry, darlin’, a chastity belt this ain’t.’

Then he rummaged in the panniers again, bringing out a thick black dildo, which he secured into the belt before he inserted it into her grudging cunt making her gasp. ‘There, now wasn’t that easy, just slipped right in, didn’t it?’

The butt plug came next, but not before he lubricated it well with his own saliva. She was surprised that the invasion of her back hole served only to make her cunt more slippery.

As he secured the attachments, he spoke softly to her. ‘You’re scared, kitten. I can see it in your eyes. I won’t tell you there’s no need to be because the one thing I’m not is a liar. What I will say is that you’d be amazed at what other feelings can erupt out of a little bit of fear and a little bit of pain.’ He leaned over to suckle each of her breasts in turn as he cinched the butt plug and the dildo into place and tightened the straps until Rita cried out.

‘There,’ he said, rubbing his hands together and approving the over-all effect. ‘That’s perfect.’

Then he left.

Rita waited.

The light was on. It wasn’t so bad, she told herself.

And she waited some more.

Outside somewhere in the trees an owl trilled.

Morgan couldn’t have gone far, she reassured herself. After all, she had the Harley.

But what if there was a car nearby? What if someone had been waiting to take him away? What if this was that dreadful end she had imagined back the first time Aurora had locked her in the office and spanked her.

Oh that spanking. That delicious spanking. She felt her pussy clench against the dildo and her anus tightened on the butt plug in sympathy.

She pulled her thoughts back to the rather disturbing situation in which she found herself. They wouldn’t do that to her. They wouldn’t leave her here. Everyone but Vivienne had been straightforward and above board. Of course it was all a part of the initiation, but surely they wouldn’t hurt her. Not really.

Would they?

She waited a little longer and began to wonder if she should try to get loose. She lay chained over the petrol tank, her breasts saluting the ceiling, and her knees bent with her feet on the seat. The position created a delicious fullness low in her belly, and the shifting of her hips caused the front of the leather gusset to rake against her distended clit, which caused her pussy to clench, which caused her arse to clench, and when it all happened together, the sensation was much too powerful to ignore. The thought that she could be left to die crossed her mind, but there was nothing for it. Die or not. She had to come.

She concentrated on gripping and releasing the attachments that filled her. She couldn’t play with her tits, but the way they were trussed up was the next best thing. Once she got the grip and release just right, she began shifting her bottom, grinding her hips against the big leather seat.

With each shifting and gripping, the scent of her pussy grew stronger and all the training as a pet helped her to pick up Morgan’s scent as well, which had more horsepower than the Harley and was all over her body. When the first orgasm broke, she cried out, shuddered hard and had to brace herself to keep from falling off the Hog. It was a big machine, and if in her heat, she pulled it over on top of her, that probably wouldn’t end well.

Once she was stabilised and able to breathe again, she found that nothing had diminished. She still had both holes stuffed. She was still wet and her clit was still thrumming. By the third orgasm she had perfected her technique. As she lifted her hips and tightened her thighs, she wondered if she could OD on orgasms. With only her own pleasure to concentrate on and with movement restricted each orgasm built on itself, and instead of leaving her more tired, each time she came she felt more energised. Her head buzzed with endorphins, and she was certain that if Morgan returned this second, she could easily race the Harley back to London and win.

For a second fear gripped her belly. Had Morgan given her some sort of drug, maybe introduced through her skin? Maybe she really would die of orgasm overdose. But then she came again, and the orgasm was so fantastic, it really didn’t matter. Everybody had to die of something. The smell of leather and metal and pussy and sweaty male mixed with the undertones of clean stable straw and motor oil washed over her in a pheromonal cocktail that pushed her into an altered state, and it was from that altered state, just after a particularly earth-shaking orgasm, her eyelids fluttered open to find Morgan standing next to her with his cock in his hand.

She smiled up at him and opened her legs. ‘Wanna play?’

‘Could do.’

She nodded down to her attachments. ‘You’ll have to make room.’

He straddled the bike and scooted into position, his big cock anxiously stretched between them with just enough of his groin exposed to give her a glimpse of the leopard skin tattoo. He unhooked the front of the gusset and removed only the dildo.

For a brief second she felt the void, but only for a second, then his warm, dark cock slipped into place, she half perched on his lap, half reclined over the petrol tank straining against the chains. His rough fingers pinched her nipples to cherry liquorice peaks, then pinched and stroked her clit until she flinched and thrust alternately, right at the threshold of pain until she reached the tipping point. Then she screamed and grunted the orgasm that tore through her until her throat was raw, tightening her hold on Morgan until he grabbed her buttocks in a bruising grip and pistoned out his load, his own growls echoing off the rafters.

Some time after that a limo came. Two women dressed in black suits and ties, not unlike the bouncers, or Aurora, carefully cleaned her, dressed her in a soft velour track suit, and returned her home just before dawn. As she got out of the limo, she looked around for signs of Edward, but there were none. She felt disappointed.

Chapter Fourteen

Edward switched off the DVD player and cursed out loud into the darkened room. He sat on the leather sofa in a pair of faded jeans and nothing else. The fly was open and he gripped his cock in a strangle hold. Fuck it! He could easily come in his hand watching the DVD of Rita. He could pretend he was Morgan pushing his way into her exquisite snatch, but that’s all it would be, just pretending. Hell, if he just wanted pussy, it wasn’t hard to get at The Mount, but it wasn’t pussy he wanted. It was Rita he wanted. And he wanted all of her, every inch of her, non-stop until they were both completely sated. He figured that would take a very long time.

Then he wanted to start all over again.

She was doing great with the initiation. Morgan couldn’t stop talking about how she had ridden him on the Hog. Christ! She was doing magnificent; he was the one not handling it very well. Damn it, everyone got to experience Rita but him. He would never forgive Vivienne for that.

There was a soft knock on the door. He wrestled his cock back into the jeans and answered it.

Alex stood before him still dressed in his dance costume. ‘Leo has a couple of his men keeping an eye on Rita tonight. She’ll never know he’s there. But if anyone else shows up snooping around, we’ll know about it.’

‘I should be there myself,’ Edward growled.

‘You can’t risk any further contact, and you know it. Whatever else, if anything else, is going on with Rita, it has nothing to do with you. Personally, I wouldn’t put it past that sleazy boss of hers.’ Suddenly the dancer was shifting from foot to foot and avoiding Edward’s gaze.

‘What? What is it, Alex?’

He cleared his throat. ‘She wants you.’

‘Bloody hell! I don’t want her.’

‘Not like you have much choice, is it?’ Alex took in Edward’s state of undress and the unsettled bulge in his jeans. ‘Morgan gave you the DVD?’

Edward nodded.

‘You’ll be back in the cock stock if she finds out about it.’

Edward winced at the thought of the chastity belt and his hand came to rest protectively against his overworked fly.

‘I heard about the bet,’ Alex said. ‘Do you really think she’ll honour it?’

‘She has to. She had Lorelei write it up, and now everyone knows.’

Alex let out a low whistle. ‘Jesus, I can’t believe she’d even make such a bet. I wouldn’t trust her, Edward. She has everything to lose.’

‘And I have everything to gain. I’ll have my life back. Don’t you think that’s worth the risk?’

‘Of course it’s worth the risk. All I’m saying is be careful.’ Alex kicked off his shoes and padded to the refrigerator. ‘Mind if I watch a little telly. Mine’s on the blink again.’ He helped himself to a beer.

‘Just let yourself out when you’re done.’ Edward reached for the door.

‘You going like that?’ Alex nodded to Edward’s bare torso and feet.

‘She’s come to me in less. What does it matter?’

Alex shrugged. ‘Suit yourself.’ He plopped down on the sofa and began to channel surf.

Edward took a deep breath and pulled the door shut behind him. Best get it over with. Putting it off only made matters worse.

He was surprised when Vivienne answered the door herself dressed in an ice-blue kimono he’d given her as a birthday present. Judging from the exaggerated hourglass shape of her, she was wearing a corset beneath. She loved corsets, and she wore them well. She wore everything well. The flat was quiet, other than soft jazz playing in the background. She knew he liked jazz.

‘Where’s Lorelei?’ he asked.

‘Business. Diego from the Argentine House.’ She handed him a glass of fizz, Moet et Chandon, he noticed. ‘Lorelei has a good rapport with Diego, and they enjoy each other’s company. She sipped delicately and released a deep sigh. ‘You’ve seen Morgan?’

He nodded.

‘I wasn’t told about his little task for your girl.’

‘You know Morgan, always the spontaneous free spirit,’ Edward lied. The truth was no one wanted to risk another sabotage attempt by Vivienne.

She forced a laugh. ‘His enthusiasm is practically contagious. Whatever your little darling did, I think we can safely say Morgan was impressed. I thought he was going to shoot his wad just telling me about her.’

‘Can we talk about something else?’

‘He said she wore the suit well.’

‘Please.’ He tossed back the champagne as though it were cheap ale.

She moved close to him and ran fingernails the colour of the inside of a seashell down over his chest, bringing them to rest just below his navel. ‘You wish it had been you, don’t you?’

He set the champagne flute down on the end table. ‘Please, Vivienne, do we have to do this again?’

She leaned in and kissed the hard muscles of his pecs, her hair falling against the rise of his nipples. He caught his breath as she slipped her fingers down beneath the waistband of his jeans, a tight squeeze, since his penis was still at half mast. ‘I thought you might be needing a little help with this tonight,’ she breathed.

Hers was not the help he wanted. But, damn it, he was horny and frustrated and Vivienne was willing, and she was a good lover when she didn’t have an agenda. It was the agenda part that worried him.

Slowly, with endless fascination, she undid his fly, then chuckled softly. ‘What’s this? No underpants? Aren’t you the cheeky boy?’ She teased the head of his penis until it jutted up against his belly, then she bent and kissed just the tip, flicking her tongue over it as though she were tasting a new flavour of ice cream.

The muscles low in his stomach contracted like he’d been punched. Interesting that the response was the same, pleasure or trauma. He just had time to caress her hair before she pulled away. Holding his gaze, she slowly, deliberately untied the sash of the robe, unwrapping herself as though she were a work of art, and so she was. In the beginning he had wanted her like he had never wanted anything. She had been his wildest obsession, and his most costly. Even after what she had done to him, it was a long time before he was out from under her spell. And now that he was, well sometimes that was almost worse.

She looked virginal in the white corset, like an innocent laced tightly in silk and ribbon for her own protection, but she was never the one who needed protecting. Her breasts mounded above the tight lacings like apples overflowing a basket, and they evoked a similar desire to taste.

She turned her back to him, offering the view of her perfect bottom, peeking from beneath ribbons and lace, her legs parted just enough to intimate what was to come. ‘Unlace me, Edward. Be a dear.’

He moved behind her, so close that in its present state, his cock could almost reach out and touch her. As his hands came to rest on her back just above the swell of her bottom, she sighed a little whimper of a sigh and shifted her hips back toward him. He undid the knot and, with well-practised hands, undid the lacings until at last the corset parted, yielding grudgingly to expose the exquisite narrowing of her waist. Everything about her was exquisite, he thought, as he let his finger trace a path down her spine until his hand came to rest just above the crevice of her pillowed bottom. How could it have taken him so long to see the flaws beneath?

Unaware of his machinations, she turned and knelt in front of him, looking up from under long lashes, a gaze of adoring innocence perfected. Then she slid his jeans down just enough to take the length of him into her mouth.

He struggled to relax into the pleasure of it, to think only about how much he needed to come, to think only about how erotic their situation was. But he knew Vivienne too well. No gift was ever freely given.

Just when he had almost forgotten the niggle, just when he was almost able to give in, she stood and took his hand. ‘Come to bed with me, Edward. It’s been a long time since I’ve made love to you.’

‘It’s been a long time since you’ve wanted to.’ The minute he’d said it, he knew he shouldn’t have.

Her grip on his hand tightened and the soft laugh at the back of her throat sounded slightly predatory. ‘Consider it a sympathy fuck, then, if you like.’

By the time they had reached the bed, the patina of adoring innocence was gone. She pushed him back on to the satin duvet, tugged his jeans down and bit him just barely above his penis. ‘Ouch! Vivienne that hurt.’ Another mistake, letting her know, especially since the surging of his cock clearly indicated the pain was anything but intolerable.

She grabbed him by the hair, pulling his face only inches from the bow of her mouth, now contorted into a snarl that would have made a lesser woman look ugly. ‘What? Doesn’t she hurt you enough, Edward? What’s the matter, are you getting soft on me?’ With a quick shift of her hips, and a devastating downward thrust, she slipped onto his cock, then gave a little sigh. ‘Oooh, not soft at all.’ Her grip was tight and angry, and he couldn’t help thinking of Rita in chains, her delicious girlie grip milking the dildo and the butt plug until she came. My God, to have her do that to him. Jesus, there must be nothing sweeter on earth.

And suddenly he scooped Vivienne in his arms and rolled on top of her, then he thrust so hard that she yelped, and there was just enough pain in the yelp to encourage him. He bent and bit each of her nipples in turn, and she squealed, wrapping her legs around him, digging her nails into his back, making him flinch, making his balls feel like they would surely burst. That must have been what Morgan felt like when he saw Rita coming and coming, endlessly coming.

Vivienne bucked and dug her heels into his back as her first orgasm hit, and her pulsing grip only made him pump harder, feeling the weight of his own need like a boulder around his waist. Morgan had emptied such a load into Rita. Such a load. Watching the DVD, Edward had thought the man would never stop coming.

‘That’s it, fuck me hard, you cunt-licking bastard.’ Vivienne’s dirty talk barely registered in the back of his mind. There was no room for it next to the picture of Rita chained to the Hog, the picture that now filled his head, and his balls. Rita in chains, Rita in leather, Rita riding the Hog, her slippery pussy sliding over the hard leather saddle. The fullness in his balls was unbearable, his penis felt like it had a mind of its own, wanting nothing but relief, surrogate relief if necessary. But he knew any sort of relief would only be temporary until he could have what he wanted. ‘Oh God,’ he gasped.

‘That’s it, you fucking bastard, jizz my cunt.’ Vivienne tightened her grip and thrust harder, but he had forgotten himself, and the circumstances no longer mattered in his desperate state.

His mind was no longer capable of caution, and his body less so. As her second orgasm broke over her, he came. ‘Oh God, Rita, I’m coming.’ Too late he realised his slip.

Vivienne growled like an angry lioness and shoved him so hard he fell off the bed, ejaculating long arching spurts of semen onto the white carpet. ‘Get out,’ she bellowed. ‘Now!’ She kicked at him, but he was too fast for her, and amazingly agile considering the uncomfortable situation he found himself in.

He stood and stumbled before realizing his jeans were still around his ankles. Convenient for a quick escape, he thought. As he yanked them up and slipped hurriedly out the door, he reminded himself that there was no quick escape. He’d pay dearly for such a slip.

Inside his flat he found Alex stroking a boner in empathy with Morgan, who was doing the same on the DVD. When he saw Edward, he fumbled for the remote. ‘Sorry, mate. Didn’t expect you back for a while.’

‘It’s all right.’ Edward plopped down on the couch next to Alex, the sight of Rita writhing making him hard again. ‘She wouldn’t mind. In fact it would turn her on the two of us having a wank watching her and Morgan have a wank.’ And suddenly his mood lightened. As he watched Morgan climb on the Harley and remove the dildo from Rita’s pussy, he was reminded there might yet be an escape for him.

Alex glanced over at him. ‘You look worse for the wear. Things didn’t go well with Vivienne?’ he resumed the leisurely stroking of his cock.

‘Do they ever?’

For a long moment, the two sat in silence, watching the sexy drama unfolding on the DVD. ‘God, she’s amazing.’ Alex’s voice was breathless as Rita invited Morgan for a ride.

A glance at the dancer’s erection made Edward chuckle.

‘What?’ Alex looked down at his cock. ‘What’s so funny.’

‘It turns her on.’

Alex smiled and gave his cock an affectionate stroke. ‘Glad to hear she likes it.’

‘No, I mean yes, she likes your cock, but the thought of the two of us fucking turns her on.’

Alex chuckled softly, his attention back on the DVD. ‘You told her about that?’

‘I did, and it made her really hot.’

In an effort to release his balls from the restraint of his trousers, Alex shifted on the sofa, then he stopped mid grope. ‘I have a brilliant idea. Course it would get you into more trouble with Vivienne, which I doubt you need right now.’ His face broke into a broad smile. ‘But only if she finds out.’ He nodded to the view of Morgan’s straining backside as he pistoned Rita’s snatch. ‘It’s hardly fair you get to watch her, but she doesn’t get to watch you. Don’t you agree?’

Edward’s pulse went into overdrive. His balls ached at the very thought. He’d had more than a few fantasies about Rita watching the two of them, then joining in the fun.

Alex had already flipped the remote control, and the light on the camera, positioned to take in any interesting activity on the sofa, blinked. ‘Quick, put this on.’ He practically threw Edward’s mask at him from where he had tossed it on the coffee table after his return from Leo’s. Once it was on, it was Alex’s turn to chuckle. He nodded at the mask. ‘Can you suck cock in that?’

‘You’d be amazed at what I can do in this.’ As if to demonstrate, Edward pulled Alex into his arms and took his mouth in a rapacious kiss. It was a relief to have sex with no agenda. He and Alex didn’t have sex often. When they did it was always spontaneous and always free of ulterior motives. When Edward pulled away Alex bit his lip playfully. ‘Do you kiss Rita like that? Come on, don’t be shy. Show me how you’d kiss Rita, and when she watches, she’ll know you were thinking about her mouth.’

Alex was as good at acting as he was at dancing. This time when Edward kissed him, his mouth suddenly felt softer, more feminine. Edward had to open his eyes to make sure he was still kissing Alex.

But Alex didn’t give him much time to dwell on his acting skills, he was already helping Edward out of his jeans, which was not too difficult since he’d returned from Vivienne’s still too hard to manage the fly. Finding Alex having a wank hadn’t lessened the load. The dancer tugged and manoeuvred until Edward sat bare-arsed on the sofa, his hips thrust forward, his erection standing to attention. Alex sighed. ‘Bet I know what else you like to do to her mouth.’

As he began to tease the end of Edward’s cock with the tip of his tongue and the round O of his mouth, Edward thought of Rita naked except for Leo’s leash. He thought of her sniffing and nuzzling and sucking his cock while Leo mounted her from behind. So much like a wild thing, he thought. He curled his fingers in Alex’s hair and pulled his face down until he felt full contact of strong, determined lips and a deliciously deep throat, room for him to thrust unhindered. And he did, making no attempts to stifle his groans of pleasure.

Dancer coordination served him well as Alex kept the perfect rhythm to his thrusts while at the same time stripping off until he too was completely naked, his thick cock bouncing against his thigh each time Edward thrust into his mouth. Edward ran a hand along the dancer’s flank until he could cup and knead his arse cheek. Then he slid his curled fingers into Alex’s crevice and fondled the twitch of his anus.

But instead of lingering to enjoy Edward’s caresses, Alex rose up and pushed Edward back on the sofa until he was lying down, then he reverse-straddled his face and lowered his bottom close to Edward’s mouth. When he was satisfied the position worked for both of them, he leaned forward and continued deep throating Edward’s heavy cock, occasionally running a muscular tongue over his balls.

The sight of Alex’s tight bottom clenching and unclenching just above his face combined with the yeasty tang of male sweat made Edward’s mouth water. He pulled him down close and raked his tongue over Alex’s anus until it glistened with a fine sheen of his saliva. Then he thrust with his tongue, knowing by Alex’s muffled moans that he was appreciating the efforts. Finally he pulled the dancer back so he could nibble and lick his smoothly shaved balls and reciprocate with a good deep throating while he scissored two fingers into Alex’s wet pucker. By that time they were both in danger of propelling themselves off of the sofa in their thrustings. At last Alex pulled away and gasped. ‘Fuck me, Edward. I need you to fuck me now.’

As they scrambled to reposition, Alex pushed onto the sofa and manoeuvred his way beneath Edward. ‘I want to see your face,’ he spoke between laboured breaths. Then he lifted his legs onto Edward’s shoulders and wriggled his hands down to spread his buttocks, exposing his dark, deep hole. It was an invitation Edward did not resist. His penis was still slippery from Alex’s mouth, and the tight pucker of the dancer’s anus yielded as he thrust upward until he was fully impaled with his bottom high in the air. Edward rose onto his knees for better positioning, then braced one foot on the floor next to the sofa.

Sandwiched between them, intriguingly close to his own mouth, Alex’s enormous erection bounced wildly with each thrust. With his arms raised over his head, he braced himself against the sofa and thrust back with a force that threatened to catapult Edward over the coffee table.

The camera recorded every move as the two men humped and shoved their way toward ejaculation. Edward thought of how Rita would play with herself when she received the DVD. He could imagine her pulling aside her panties and thrusting against a large dildo, harder and harder as the DVD progressed, hard enough to make her breasts bounce, hard enough to make the sofa creak with her humping and thrusting. And he came, grunting and hammering into Alex, feeling like his balls would explode with his release. He could tell by the way Alex tensed and held his breath that he was about to come as well. Quickly, he pulled out. ‘I owe you, Alex.’ He barely got Alex’s cock into his mouth as the first eruption of semen hit the back of his throat and Alex thrashed out his own load.

It seemed ages before they collapsed back onto the sofa. Edward wiped his mouth, then wriggled and shoved his way closer to his friend, who pulled him into a tight embrace knocking the mask askew. It didn’t matter. Edward’s back was to the camera.

‘You think Rita will like it?’ Alex asked when at last they could both breathe again.

‘I hope she does,’ came Edward’s breathless reply. ‘She said it would turn her on, and since I can’t … since we can’t …’

‘Don’t sweat it, mate.’ Alex pulled Edward closer and stroked his back. ‘You’ll be with her soon enough, and you can tell her how you feel.’ He fumbled with the remote control of the camera. ‘Though I can’t imagine that she doesn’t already know how much you –’

Chapter Fifteen

‘Give me that.’ Rita grabbed the remote away from Kate and fumbled to switch off the DVD.

Kate folded her arms across her chest and held Rita’s gaze. ‘You should have told me we were going to watch a film. I’d have brought popcorn.’

‘Can’t you ever just leave things alone? I told you I’d be right back.’ She held up the carrier bag with the bottle of malbec she had just slipped out to the corner store for. When she left, Kate had been on the phone with one of her students.

For a long moment the two glared at each other in the dim evening light of the lounge. Then Kate released a long sigh. ‘So are you gonna fill me in, because I’m getting tired of your rubbish.’

Rita sat down cautiously on the couch next to her friend. ‘I’d rather not.’

‘Bloody hell, Rita, I’m your best friend, or at least I thought I was, then you go off to The Mount for a date with Mr Shag-me-in-the-dark and suddenly you’re like a stranger. Are you trying to push me away? Is that it?’

‘No! Of course not.’ Rita buried her face in her hands and shook her head. ‘God, Kate, I’m sorry. It’s just that nothing like this ever happens to me. My life’s boring, and then all of a sudden I’m in the middle of it and it’s getting deeper. I hardly know where to begin.’

‘At the beginning maybe?’ Kate nodded to the television. ‘And it better include an explanation of that hot DVD custom made for you, unless I’m totally daft.’

Rita suddenly felt desperate to tell someone about what was happening to her. And here was her opportunity in the form of exactly the person she wanted to talk to, the person she talked to about anything and everything before Edward and The Mount. She blinked hard, surprised to find she was fighting back tears. ‘If I tell you, you’ve gotta swear on your life that you won’t tell anyone. Not anyone. I mean it.’

Kate rolled her eyes. ‘I’m your best friend, Ree. Of course I’m not going to tell anyone, you stupid cow.’

‘Rita wiped her sweaty hands against her jeans and released a shaky breath. ‘If anyone finds out I’ve told you, then it’s all over.’

Kate uttered a little gasp and pulled her friend into such a tight embrace that it forced the breath from Rita’s lungs and made her gasp. ‘Oh God, it’s true then? I was afraid of this. What is it, hon? Organised crime? Drugs? White slavery?’ Her voice got higher and higher with each new speculation.

‘No!’ Rita extricated herself and rubbed her crunched ribs. ‘It’s nothing like that. It’s …’

Kate leaned closer. ‘It’s what?’

‘It’s an initiation.’ There! She’d said it, and she’d said it out loud. For a horrifying few seconds, she held her breath, half expecting Vivienne and her gang of thugs to show up with a newly made chastity belt, one that covered her whole body, one that she would never get out of.

Kate blinked. ‘A what?’’

By the time Rita finished the whole story, the bottle of wine was long gone along with two pots of tea, a Chinese take-away and serious amounts of Jaffa Cakes. OK, she didn’t need to give every detail, but this was Kate she was talking to, and hadn’t she been absolutely bursting to tell her everything from the beginning? Anyway, once a little of the truth was out, what was the difference if she told the whole thing? At last the two sat in silence, Kate dragging her teaspoon through the trail of sugar strung across the tea tray. ‘Bloody hell, Ree, if anyone else told me what you just did, I’d swear they were barking.’ She nodded to the blank television. ‘The guy in the mask, that was Edward?’

Rita nodded.

‘How can you be certain if you’ve never seen his face?’ She raised a hand. ‘Never mind, I guess that’s a pretty stupid question under the circumstances. And Alex?’ She scooted closer. ‘Does he have a girlfriend?’

‘The subject never came up, but based on my experience, I don’t think having a girlfriend is very popular at The Mount.’

‘Well, maybe you’re in the process of changing that.’

Rita couldn’t quite muster her friend’s optimism.

‘I’ve always considered myself open-minded,’ Kate said. ‘Though I never did get the guy on guy thing. At least not until tonight.’ She nodded to the television. ‘Can I have a copy of that DVD?’

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’

Kate drummed her fingers on the coffee table and studied her friend with hard eyes.

‘What?’

‘You really don’t expect me to believe you’ve put yourself through all this just for the story, do you?’

Rita sprang from the sofa and began to pace. ‘Of course it’s for the story. Jesus, Katie, Vivienne’s a sadistic bitch, and I expect to be well compensated when I burst her little bubble. I want the satisfaction of watching that slut squirm when it all gets exposed. Don’t look at me like that. You don’t know what I’ve been through.’

‘Let me see,’ Kate began to tick off a list on her fingers. ‘There’s fucking, then there’s sex with hot blokes, oh, and let’s don’t leave out sex with hot chicks, then there’s more fucking.’ She shrugged. ‘I’m trying to be sympathetic, really I am, Ree. Then there’s this.’ Kate switched the DVD back on just as Alex said. ‘Show me how you’d kiss Rita, and when she watches, she’ll know you were thinking about her mouth.’

‘Stop it, Kate.’ Rita reached for the remote, but Kate jerked it away and fast forwarded. ‘Don’t sweat it, mate.’ Alex was saying to the brooding Edward. ‘You’ll be with her soon enough, and you can tell her how you feel. Though I can’t imagine that she doesn’t already know how much you –’

‘Stop it!’ Rita grabbed the remote and switched off the DVD, but not before she got a tender view of Edward’s back and buttocks, curled against Alex, and the ache beneath her breast bone seemed suddenly bottomless. ‘I’m a journalist,’ she spoke over the hammering of her heart. ‘I didn’t ask for any of this, but now that I’m in it, only a fool would not take advantage.’

Kate grunted. ‘And all for that skank, Owen? You know he’ll find a way to weasel credit for it. Jesus, Rita, what happened to your high American ideals? She nodded to the television. ‘I mean Edward’s fucking a bloke for you. The man loves you, for Christ sake. Any fool can see that.’

‘No.’ Rita stamped her foot. ‘Any fool can’t see that.’ Thoughts of her conversation with Vivienne on the way home from Leo’s flashed through her head and made her face burn. She drew her arms around herself in a tight hug as though she were suddenly cold. ‘You don’t know. You weren’t there. If he loved me, he wouldn’t make me go through this.’ The words caught in her throat and pushed past the lump.

Kate shook her head slowly. ‘You can’t really be that stupid can you?’ She grabbed up the tea tray and padded into the kitchen as though she were off to a fire. ‘I won’t argue with you. But don’t come crying to me when it all goes tits-up.’ She came back from the kitchen and plopped down on the couch next to Rita. ‘Before I discovered your great new porn, I came here to tell you that I’ve had a visit from a private eye.’ She held Rita’s gaze. ‘He was asking all kinds of questions about you. And you’re not surprised, are you?’

Rita shook her head.

‘I told him it was none of his damned business. If he wasn’t the cops I had nothing to say to him.’

‘And?’

‘He left. That was this morning. Is that a part of your initiation?’

‘No.’ Rita rubbed the bridge of her nose to ease the beginnings of a headache just behind her eyes.

‘Jesus, Ree! You mean there’s more?’

‘It’s my mother.’ The words came out sounding too much like a whine.

‘Are you having a laugh?’ Kate let out a low whistle. ‘Doubt if she’ll approve of her daughter the porn queen, even if a Pulitzer is imminent.’

Rita shook her head. ‘The damage is already done. I’m sure my mother knows how many times I go to the loo by now.’

‘You think she knows about The Mount?’

The thought made Rita’s stomach ache. She so didn’t need her mother’s interference right now. Please God let her stay away just until the initiation was over and she had the information she needed for the exposé.

Chapter Sixteen

There was chilled champagne and canapés on a table covered in white linen, there was a single red rose in a crystal vase. Beyond that, standing at the window, taking in the view of the city, was Lorelei.

A business proposition, she had said when she called. But a clandestine meeting in a swank hotel room was definitely not the kind of business meeting Owen was used to. Mind you, he wasn’t complaining. No red ties, no charcoal suits. Instead, the turquoise dress she wore looked like it was painted on. It was some fifties style, to the knees and slightly off the shoulder. The matching shoes were unbelievably high-heeled making the muscles of her calves look positively edible.

‘Good afternoon, Mr Frank.’ She turned to face him and offered a cock-stiffening smile. ‘Owen. I’ve been looking forward to our meeting.’ She nodded to the champagne. ‘Would you do the honours?’

Once champagne was served, she invited him to join her at the table near the window. She toasted new friends and endless possibilities. Then she sat her glass down and ran a French manicured nail around the rim. ‘I’m sure you must be wondering why Vivienne sent me to meet with you today, so I won’t keep you waiting.’

He offered himself a mental pat on the back. It was as he’d hoped. Vivienne had sent her. The Vivienne. In his mind’s eye he could already picture the cover of next month’s Talkabout. He would be sitting next to Vivienne inside The Mount, in one of the more intimate dining rooms. She would be wearing some wispy little number, a one-off that some designer had made especially to showcase those luscious breasts and that tiny waist. They would be toasting each other with expensive bubbly, and she would be looking at him adoringly, with just a hint in her eyes that told him their time together would not end in the dining room. And he’d be the envy of – well everybody.

His fantasy left him breathless, and he forced his attention back to the present. He leaned across the table into Lorelei’s stunning gaze, offering his best business face. ‘How may I be of assistance, Lorelei?’

‘Both Vivienne and I, along with others at The Mount, are quite impressed with the work you’ve done at Talkabout. The magazine seems to have flourished since you’ve taken the reins.’ She sipped her champagne. ‘You might not think so, but The Mount is always concerned about publicity. Of course the publicity we don’t get is probably the most important.’

‘Of course. Part of the mystique and all.’

She nodded. ‘Exactly. But, the time has come when Vivienne feels we should be a little more forthcoming with information about ourselves.’

‘Oh?’

She held his gaze as though she were sizing him up. Clearly there was an astute business woman inside that slinky dress. ‘Of course all this must be done with the utmost discretion and taste in keeping with our reputation.’

‘Of course. Go on.’ He kept his voice neutral, which was no small task under the circumstances.

‘Vivienne thinks you’re the man to write a story on The Mount. It would be an exposé, of sorts, in that nothing like this has ever been done before.’

My God! It was even better than he’d hoped. There would be a Pulitzer, there would be his pick of positions. At last there would be the hard-earned recognition he so deserved. Of course he’d try to break the news to Rita gently. Surely she would understand that they wanted someone with more experience to do the exposé. If she didn’t, well it really didn’t matter, did it? He was the boss, after all.

‘Owen? Mr Frank? Are you all right?’

Owen remembered to breathe. He pressed his feet hard against the floor under the table to keep his knees from trembling. My God! This was a dream come true. ‘Fine. I’m fine. I must say, I’m a little surprised, that’s all. Of course! Of course I’d be happy to do it. Whatever you want.’

‘Good.’ She offered a breasty sigh and relaxed back into her chair. ‘Wonderful.’ There was that smile again, the one he wanted to eat. But it was quickly subsumed into her business face. ‘There are a few finer points Vivienne has asked me to discuss with you.’ This time she leaned so far over the table that her well displayed tits were indeed well displayed and she didn’t seem to mind if he looked. ‘Remember, The Mount has always benefited from gossip and rumour. When I tell you what will be expected of you, I’m sure you’ll keep that in mind.’

‘Of course, naturally. Go on.’

‘First of all, Vivienne is to have complete editorial control.’

He blinked and jerked back in his chair feeling almost as though he’d just been slapped. This was not a part of his fantasy. This wasn’t at all what he had in mind. He took a deep breath, biting the inside of his cheek to stop the nervous twitch he felt threatening his upper lip. ‘My dear Lorelei, journalism doesn’t work that way. I run a magazine, not a PR firm.’

Once again, Lorelei offered that steamy smile. Definitely unfair negotiating advantage, he thought. ‘Vivienne was certain a fine journalist such as yourself would feel that way, so she asked me to offer you this as a part of her effort to convince you that you’re the right man for the job.’ She stood and walked slowly to the dressing table, making sure he had plenty of time to admire her well-rounded bottom. From her bag she took a plain white envelope and handed it to him.

While she waited for him to open it, she nibbled a canapé, doing things to smoked salmon with her mouth that caused his cock to jerk in his trousers, making it hard to concentrate on the envelope. But at last he worried it open and pulled out a single slip of white paper that read, five million. ‘What’s this?’

‘If you agree to our little offer, that’s the number of pounds you’ll find deposited in your account by the time you get back to your office today.’

For a second he could barely hear over his sudden struggle to breathe. ‘Are you serious? You can’t be serious?’ God, he sounded like a stupid amateur.

She leaned down and kissed his ear, nibbling the lobe like it was a delicate canapé. ‘Oh I’m very serious, Owen. Very serious indeed.’

His pulse threatened to hammer its way through his throat. He stared at the words on the paper until they slid out of focus. Even the close proximity of Lorelei’s luscious mouth paled in comparison to the visions of Ferraris and country cottages and super models on his arm that danced through his head.

‘Owen?’

‘What do I have to do?’ His voice sounded breathless, like a gale had caught in his throat and threatened to strangle him.

She knelt in front of him and rested her hand on his fly, her blue eyes shining beneath enormous lashes. ‘All you have to do is write the story that Vivienne tells you to write. Do exactly as she says, and the exposé is all yours, the money’s all yours,’ she ran a lacquered nail over the buckle of his belt, ‘and other fringe benefits as well.’ She leaned in close and rubbed her cheek against the beginnings of a bulge. ‘All yours for the taking.’

She stood so quickly that it took serious restraint to keep from grabbing her and pulling her face back down to his crotch. But then she reached behind her, unzipped the turquoise dress and stepped out of it. Owen found himself looking at the most perfect body he had ever seen, displayed in burgundy silk lingerie that he had no doubt would have set him back a good three months’ salary, but oh God, she was worth it. Her breasts practically spilled over the top of the deep lace plunge, and the thong made a matching lacy V just above her pussy.

Now her smile was almost shy. ‘Vivienne sent me to persuade you to work for us.’ She knelt in front of him again. ‘She said use any means at my disposal.’ With amazing agility considering the length of her nails, she undid his belt and trousers and reached inside. She looked up at him with a pout that was almost innocent. ‘Please say yes, Owen.’ Her voice was thin and girlish, ‘For me.’

Before he could even feign a protest, she pulled his cock into her mouth so deeply and with such delicious suction that he nearly fell off the chair. Just when he had almost forgotten everything else in the world but his cock in her mouth she pulled away and whimpered, slipping a hand into her panties, making no effort to hide her squirming. ‘Please say yes, Owen. Please do what Vivienne asks so we can fuck.’

‘This is highly … I normally don’t … urgh.’

She took him into her mouth again, snaking her tongue along the length of him, doing things that made him certain her tongue was prehensile. He groaned out loud and humped her mouth like it was a pussy. ‘Please,’ she said when she came up for air. ‘It’ll be so good for all of us, I promise you. Your career will be made, and you’ll be able to do whatever you want.’ She guided his hand to her breasts. ‘You’ll have your own private table at The Mount with me, or even Vivienne, to share it with you.’

She unhooked her bra releasing her lovely tits, eager nipples first, and he was convinced. Oh God, how he was convinced! ‘Tell Vivienne I’ll do it.’ He stood and pulled her to her feet, then he pushed and nudged her toward the bed with her frantically tugging and shoving at his clothes and whimpering like she was gagging for it.

‘I’m so glad. I’m so glad,’ she gasped as they fell onto the bed. He pushed aside her thong and shoved into her smoothly shaven cunt. She was tight, so tight and slippery. He knew he couldn’t last long. She wrapped her legs around him, shoes and all, shoving and humping like she couldn’t wait either. He drilled harder and faster figuring this was just a prelude as badly as she wanted him. They both needed to come, just get rid of all that tension that had built up. Then they could take their time. He’d take the afternoon off. After all, they had the room.

‘Oh God, Oh God! Owen, I’m coming,’ she gasped.

And he came too.

Chapter Seventeen

Vivienne’s flat was empty. Lorelei shivered and chafed her arms. She couldn’t remember Vivienne’s flat ever being empty. This time of evening the place was always buzzing with activity. It was true Lorelei had returned later than she had expected, but Vivienne had ordered her to stay until the job was done. How was she to know that in spite of Owen Frank’s sleazy reputation, the man was into marathon sex, and not half bad at it either. Fucking him might be an inconvenience, but it was certainly no hardship.

Edward was at work in the study, Alex was teaching a dance lesson, and Aurora was in the dungeon punishing the errant CEO of some bank. No one had seen Vivienne in the restaurant either. Lorelei wandered down the narrow hall toward the back entrance. Sometimes Vivienne sought out unlikely spots to take lovers. It was a kinky thing with her, having sex in unusual places. The only thing she liked better than sex in unusual places was being caught in the act. There were no grunts of pleasure coming from the linen closet, nor the pantry next to the lift.

Lorelei stepped out into the alley where two sleek limos stood ready for the private use of members. One driver was busy reading a novel, the other talked quietly on his mobile. Both offered her a polite nod.

She was about to go back inside when a muffled whimper further down the alley got her attention. Careful not to turn her ankle on the cobbles, she tiptoed behind the limos and around to where the dumpsters from the kitchen sat. As she moved closer, she heard it again, a muffled grunt followed by a whine.

She thought she recognised the faded blue gym suit with the hood pulled up, but it was those ugly pink flip-flops that gave her away. What the hell was Rita Holly doing behind the kitchen bins?

Then a masculine voice mumbled something Lorelei couldn’t quite catch, and she froze in her tracks. Surely Rita wasn’t stupid enough to meet Edward here like this? But hadn’t she just seen Edward hard at work in the study? Vivienne always said the chick was a slut. Lorelei had masturbated more than once thinking about Rita pleasuring the two guards the night she was brought before the High Council.

Whoever she was with, his face was buried in Rita’s cleavage and he was nursing hungrily.

‘I believe in reciprocity,’ Rita said. She sounded strange, like maybe she had a cold. She dropped to her knees and took the man’s insistent cock into her mouth, and suddenly Lorelei could see that the man was Gavin, the guard. Had Rita really liked him that much? Lorelei had always thought him a bit creepy. She watched in confusion as Gavin humped hard. ‘That’s right you little bitch. You love sucking cock, don’t you? And mine’s fully loaded and ready for that dirty mouth of yours.’ He grabbed the back of Rita’s hooded head to pull her further onto his penis thrusting rough and fast.

Rita gagged and sputtered and shoved him back.

Gavin uttered a breathy curse. ‘It’s a big one isn’t it? A filthy mouth like yours needs a big one, doesn’t it?’ He slapped the back of her head. ‘Doesn’t it?’

‘Mph,’ came the reply.

‘You hot little bitch. You need someone to teach you your place. And on your knees, well,’ he thrust hard, ‘that place works for me.’

Rita gagged again and pulled back gasping and sobbing, her hands kneading her breasts with a vengeance. ‘Please fuck me. I need to be fucked so bad.’

‘I’ll fuck you all right, you little chav slut. I’ll fuck your pussy till you can’t walk straight, then I’ll fuck your tight little arsehole.’ He jerked her to her feet and pushed her against the bin with her back to him. She let out an anxious sob. Then he slid his hand down the back of her trainer bottoms. ‘What? No knickers? You’re such a slutty little whore.’

‘I am. I’m a slutty little whore,’ she whimpered, then thrust her arse back at him like an open invitation. But he didn’t mount her right away. Instead he shoved a rough hand further into the trousers between her legs and began to thrust. She went into a frenzy humping his fingers. He chuckled. ‘Oh, you’re gagging for it, aren’t you? All slick and quivery and pouting, you dirty girl. No knickers, no bra, just that soft fabric rubbing up against your twat.’ With a violent tug he ripped open the crotch of her track suit, and Lorelei flinched at the sound of tearing cloth as he exposed Rita’s arse completely, then he began to spank her, hard enough to make her squeal.

‘Hurts, doesn’t it? You like that, don’t you?’ Gavin smacked her again. ‘Tell me you like it.’

‘I do. I like it so much.’

He spanked her until she was properly sobbing.

‘Please, put it in me,’ she begged. ‘I can’t stand it any more. Please fuck me. Make me come, please.’

Cautiously Lorelei stepped closer holding her breath and ignoring the urge to slip her fingers into her own pussy and have a little voyeuristic come along with them. She wasn’t sure why, but something didn’t seem quite right.

Gavin took hold of his cock like he was gripping a sword, and with one hard thrust, pushed into Rita, growling like an angry bear as he did so. Then he grabbed her hips and hammered into her with such force that Lorelei caught her breath at the violence of it. As for Rita, well it was really hard to tell if she was in ecstasy or agony. She whimpered and whined and made little mewling sounds with each angry thrust.

Gavin looked like he was about to burst. His face and neck were now an angry shade of red as he grunted out a stream of obscenities with each thrust. Then he yanked off her hood and grabbed her by the pony tail, twisting it into his fist. She gave a strangled yelp as he yanked her head back toward him.

And suddenly everything made sense. The pony tail was blond, not chestnut, and there was no mistaking Vivienne’s profile. ‘I’m coming, I’m coming!’ She shouted.

Gavin kept shoving into her as though he had every intention of splitting her in two. Then he pulled out of her, shooting his wad up her back and onto her hoodie. While he gasped for breath, he still held her pinned against the dumpster, and when he was done coming, he wiped his cock on the leg of her trainers. ‘Just what you deserve, bitch, a fuck in a back alley, now get out of here. Go home where you belong.’

It took Lorelei a few seconds to realise that, as Vivienne dropped to her knees, onto the filthy cobbles next to the dumpster, she wasn’t sobbing, but rather she was still convulsing with orgasm. Her eyes were closed, her head thrown back and the moans escaping her throat were nothing short of ecstatic. As intimate as Lorelei was with Vivienne, she had never seen her like this before.

And suddenly she realised she wasn’t intended to see. The trance was broken. Heart pounding in her chest, Lorelei turned and ran back past the limos, back into The Mount, nearly twisting an ankle on the cobbles. Inside, she hurried upstairs to Vivienne’s flat, not for the first time, wishing she had a place of her own.

‘The money’s been deposited, and he has the mobile I gave him,’ Lorelei said. Vivienne had called her to the office she kept on the ground floor behind the main restaurant. It was mostly there for appearances, but it was always a quiet and private place to meet.

She tried not to think about what she had seen in the alley not yet an hour ago. Vivienne could pick up on the tiniest signal when something was wrong, and that was often dangerous for people who got in her way. Poor Edward was proof of that. Lorelei forced her thoughts back to Owen Frank. ‘You pegged him right. The man’ll do just about anything for money and tail.’

‘Is he any good?’ Vivienne asked. ‘In bed, I mean?’

Lorelei shrugged. ‘He’s all right. It’s hardly fair to compare when I live at The Mount and get the best.’

Vivienne pulled a compact from the top drawer of the desk and powdered her nose. There was now no sign of the faded sweat suit. Lorelei marvelled at just how quickly she had transformed herself from slutty chav into the Goddess of The Mount. The change was so complete that she could almost wonder if she had imagined the whole sordid incident. ‘You were gone a long time,’ Vivienne said.

‘The man has a lot of endurance.’

‘He’s willing to write exactly what I tell him?’

‘You could tell him you’re Hera and The Mount is really Mount Olympus and he’d write it. Don’t worry. He has no loyalty to Rita, only to himself. He’s just the kind of bloke you’re looking for.’

‘You hinted to him that Rita might have information we need to access?’

‘I did. But if she’s writing anything about The Mount and he knows it, he kept it quiet. I figure he’ll try and access her files, then we’ll know.’

Vivienne bit her lower lip delicately. ‘It would be so much better if we could actually catch her in the act of betraying The Mount. That would end this travesty of initiation quickly and painlessly.’ She grunted. ‘Well for everyone but Edward, of course.’

‘Does that matter?’

‘Not really. I want him to suffer. He deserves it. He knows he belongs to me, and he’ll always belong to me. How can he possibly think she can help him?’

‘But you made the bet.’

Vivienne chuckled softly and examined her nails. ‘You know Edward can’t resist a good bet. Besides, I was bored.’

Later, as they lay curled around each other in Vivienne’s big bed, Owen called. Lorelei stayed on the line long enough to be certain she had made his cock hard and long enough to reassure both her and Vivienne that he was theirs. When she hung up, Vivienne pulled her back into her arms. ‘Well?’

‘I’ll meet him tomorrow night at the hotel again for another fuck. Don’t worry. He’s hooked.’

‘Good. I don’t want him brought here. Edward would get suspicious.’ She curled her fingers in Lorelei’s hair and gave her a long, lazy kiss, her tongue moving in small darting motions over Lorelei’s hard palate intimating what she could do to Lorelei’s cunt, if she wanted to. And just when Lorelei was beginning to squirm and grind her bottom against the mattress, Vivienne pulled away ever so slightly. ‘I’m sorry you have to fuck him, darling, but there’s really no one else I can I trust. You understand.’

‘Of course I understand, and I don’t mind. Slumming can be a turn-on sometimes.’ The minute she had said it, she realised her mistake, but it was too late.

Vivienne kissed her again, this time harder, pulling away with a painful nip on her lip. ‘If you tell anyone what you saw this evening in the ally with Gavin,’ she curled her fingers tighter in Lorelei’s hair until Lorelei flinched, ‘I promise you, darling, your punishment will be very long and very unpleasant.’ She lowered her mouth to Lorelei’s nape and bit hard. ‘Are we clear?’

Chapter Eighteen

The gown arrived, as had the cat suit, in an oblong box with brown-paper wrapping. It solicited the same tense butterfly dance in her stomach and the same dryness in her mouth. This was all becoming rather routine for the delivery man, who offered her a knowing smile as she signed for the package. No doubt her mother’s bloodhound had seen it too, along with her leaving the house in the cat suit, on the Harley. She wondered how long it would be before the woman showed up and made a scene.

A peek out the window before she opened the box showed the coast was clear. Maybe she’d get another day’s grace. Her whole life had turned into a bizarre lopsided tango, dodging her mother’s calls, and wondering at every turn just what Vivienne would pull next. It had been unusually peaceful for several days now. She was enough of a pessimist to figure that wasn’t a good sign.

In the lounge, she opened the box with trepidation, wondering if there was such a thing as a full body chastity belt. But when it was opened she gasped in delight. Folded neatly, in soft pink tissue paper, was a gown of blue-grey silk. The neck line was cut square and low in the back and in the front. It was designed to display her breasts at their luscious best. There were matching shoes, more romantic than sexy, and the accompanying necklace and earrings of opal were set in white gold. There was no note, no message, nothing, but everything fitted perfectly, almost as though it were designed especially for her.

While she admired herself in front of the mirror, her mobile signaled an incoming text.

M sure gown is exquisite on U! Can’t w8 2 C. Limo will pick U up at 8. EXX

This time, instead of being sneaked in the back door, the limo delivered her to the front entrance. Leo met her dressed in a tux that made him look like he owned the whole world and enchanted all the women in it.

He offered her his arm, giving her an admiring once-over as though she were his favourite pet again. ‘My dear Rita, never have I seen such a stunning creature in all my life.’ He laid a warm kiss across the back of her hand, folded her arm over his, and guided her toward the entrance.

She felt like all eyes were now on her, as they had been on Vivienne that first night. Was it only a few weeks ago, her first visit to The Mount? It seemed years. She felt as though her feet weren’t touching the ground. She felt as though she were suddenly a goddess surrounded by worshippers there to do homage. Was this what Vivienne felt when she made her grand entrances?

Thoughts of Vivienne brought the knot back to her stomach. Surely this was too good to be true, at least if Vivienne had anything to do with it.

Inside diners stopped eating and stared, discreetly of course. The waitstaff gave respectful little nods, to Leo, no doubt. They would have known him. And yet, it felt as though they were looking at her with admiring eyes. Not for the first time since her whole adventure at The Mount had begun, the thought that she might have been drugged popped into her head.

When they came to the staircase that led down to the Presence Chamber, Leo stopped and turned to face her, lifting her chin so that their eyes met. ‘You know what today is, yes?’

She shook her head.

‘Is new beginning for you, my darling. Is the day your initiation ends and you become full-fledged member of The Mount. This is a position well deserved, no one would doubt.’

She suddenly felt as though all the oxygen had gone out of the room, and along with it, all of the sound. Even her own breath seemed caught in the claustrophobic confines of her ribs where it raged with her pulse. ‘But what about Lorelei? She hasn’t given me a task yet?’ The thought left a sour feeling at the back of her throat.

‘In the first place, not everyone has to make task for you. Is not required. In the second place, Lorelei is Vivienne’s girl. No one would trust her with such important responsibility. She is, as you say, butt kisser.’ He raised his hand as though he were shooing away a fly. ‘We will not speak of this now. This is a happy occasion. Is not the time to talk such unpleasantness.’ Leo dropped a reassuring kiss along her earlobe. ‘You have earned your place. Now come. We must not keep the High Council waiting.’ He opened the door and they descended the long flight of stairs.

When the doors swung open at the bottom, a sense of déjà vu welled up inside her as she was led into the centre of the stone chamber. Her eyes locked immediately on Edward in his golden mask. Beside him sat Lorelei and Morgan. Even Aurora was dressed in a gown, black and gothic. One look at Alex brought to her mind a quick flash of him making love to Edward. Leo’s chair would soon be filled. But Vivienne’s chair was empty.

They stood for a moment in front of the approving gaze of the council. The moment grew and expanded to become uncomfortable. It was impossible not to notice the council members whispering among themselves, nor their surreptitious glances behind the curtain. Vivienne was nowhere to be found. The only one who seemed comfortable with the situation was Lorelei. She whispered something in Edward’s ear then excused herself. The silence stretched to the breaking point.

Leo said something in Slavic under his breath, then he motioned to one of the guards. ‘Bruce, bring a chair. This lovely lady has been kept standing long enough.’

From somewhere the guard produced a cushioned high-backed chair.

In the shuffle, Rita hadn’t noticed that Edward had left the dais and was now standing next to her. As she sat, he knelt before her and took both her hands in his. ‘You look like heaven itself, Rita Holly.’ Though she couldn’t see his eyes, she could hear the thickness in his voice that seemed to grow with each word. ‘What’s this magic you’ve worked on me, from the very moment I met you on the train in the dark.’ He kissed her fingers folded over his. ‘I’m undone.’

There was another shuffling about as Lorelei came back into the room with an envelope in her hand. When she saw Edward kneeling next to Rita, she hurried down the steps of the dais and handed him the envelope.

Edward opened it and took out a single, clearly expensive, sheet of stationary. The whole room held its breath while he read it.

Then he exploded. ‘That bitch! That ruthless bitch. She can’t do this. She cannot do this. She has no right.’ He wadded the paper into an angry ball and tossed it across the room. Then he grabbed Rita’s hand and pulled her from the chair. ‘Come on. We’re leaving. It’s done. It’s over.’

‘You can’t leave, Edward. You know you can’t. And it isn’t over.’ Lorelei’s voice rang out above the confusion on the dais. ‘Vivienne has every right to demand this of the initiate. It’s in the statutes.’

Leo laid a restraining hand against Edward’s arm, stopping him mid-stride. Then he picked up the paper from where it had landed at the feet of one of the guards and unwadded it. As he perused it, his face became redder and redder with each word. Whatever he said in Slavic was said with such venom that no one in the room could doubt the general nature of it. He looked up at everyone.

‘Well?’ Morgan asked. ‘What is it? What does it say?’

‘If I may.’ Lorelei plucked the paper out of Leo’s hands, smoothed it meticulously and cleared her throat. ‘As you have all, no doubt, gathered by now, this is from Vivienne, who has refused to be present tonight because this initiation has not been completed.’

A wave of protest broke among those still remaining on the dais, but she raised a hand to silence them. Then, as though she were the mayor of the city with an important proclamation, she began to read.

My dear fellow council members,

I will not sanction the membership of Rita Ellison Holly into The Mount until her initiation is complete, and to the best of my knowledge there is still one task remaining for Ms Holly. That is the task offered up by the head of the High Council.

‘But she’s already had her task,’ Alex interrupted. ‘It’s not our fault that she broke the rules of initiation and had her task nullified.’

‘As far as I’m concerned this initiation is over,’ added Morgan, stomping his booted foot on the floor for emphasis.

Lorelei raised her hand. ‘If you would let me finish.’ When there was silence again, she read on.

Under the Laws of Initiation, chapter 14, subsection 121, an initiation is not complete until the task offered up by the head of the High Council is completed by the initiate, and completed to the satisfaction of the head of the council. Since the rest of the council saw fit to void my first task, Rita Ellison Holly has not completed the task set forth for her by the head of the High Council. When she has completed said task, then and only then will she be a full fledged member of The Mount.

The task set forth for Rita Ellison Holly is this: She shall immediately be conveyed to my quarters. There she shall be stripped of all rank and possessions and shall assume the position of personal slave to Vivienne Arlington Page, head of the High Council of The Mount, London Coven. When she has completed that task to the head of the High Council’s satisfaction, then, and only then, shall she be considered worthy for membership into The Mount.

The council chamber erupted into chaos, but Rita hardly heard it. Edward was yelling something about broken rules. Lorelei was yelling something back about Vivienne’s demand being perfectly legal under the codes. None of it mattered any more. It was over. This was more than even she could endure, and if no one was willing to stand up to Vivienne, then Rita had a snowball’s chance in hell of ever completing the initiation. While the world around her was in chaos, she turned and fled up the stairs. She took the back door and caught a taxi at the end of the street.

As the cab sped away from the waterfront, she looked out the window feeling cold and numb. She had enough, she reassured herself. She had everything necessary for a good story, so why did she feel so awful. They deserved it. They all deserved to be exposed for letting Vivienne get away with such blatant breaking of the rules, for letting Vivienne hurt and humiliate her.

And Edward … Suddenly the world outside the window refracted with the welling of tears. Edward deserved it most of all. She forced thoughts of him out of her head and tried to occupy herself by planning the story, the writing of which would now fill her time.

Rita Ellison Holly. Why had Vivienne referred to her as Rita Ellison Holly? Granted, she hadn’t used her family name in a long time, but there were no Ellisons in her family that she knew of, and even if there had been, Vivienne couldn’t know that.

She paid the taxi driver and got out of the cab before she noticed the waiting limo. Alex had her by the arm and was guiding her toward its open door before she knew what was happening. ‘No,’ she balked. ‘I’m not going to be that bitch’s slave. Now leave me alone. I’ve had enough.’

‘I know you have, darling, and I’m so sorry.’ Suddenly she was engulfed in Edward’s arms, ‘but please just hear us out. Just get in the limo and listen. Then if you still want to end it, I’ll understand.’

‘You let her do it.’ Even as she spoke, she allowed the two men to guide her into the limo. ‘How could you let her do this to me?’ She gave Edward a hard shove with the flat of her hand.

Alex intervened, pulling her away from Edward and holding her tight. ‘He had no choice, Rita. I know you don’t understand now, but it’s true. Please you have to trust him. You have to trust that Edward –’

‘Shut up Alex. You’ll only make matters worse.’

‘Make matters worse?’ Rita half shouted. ‘How the hell could matters get worse? How?’

‘Trust me,’ Alex said, holding Edward’s gaze. ‘They can.’

Inside the limo, the driver offered her a shot of whisky, which she downed without a second thought, then she sat glaring at the two men, pushing Edward away when he tried to take her hand.

‘Listen to me, Rita. Leo, Morgan and Aurora have gone to plead your case before Vivienne. That’ll buy us some time.’

Rita exploded. ‘Doesn’t anyone ever just tell that bitch to fuck off? And what is someone like her doing in such a position of power in the first place? Has she got you all by the balls?’

In spite of her evident anger, Alex forced a half smile. ‘I guess that’s one way of putting it.’

‘Why would I want to be a part of an organisation where I have to kiss her arse whenever she demands it? Tell me why?’

‘Because you’re the tipping point, Rita, don’t you see?’ Edward grabbed her hands this time and held them so tightly she feared he’d crush her fingers. ‘You change everything. I can’t explain it to you now. You’ll have to trust me, but if you pass the initiation, you break Vivienne’s hold.’

‘Oh, so I should do it for The Mount? Is that it?’

Edward took her face in his hands and kissed her. And in her mind’s eye, she heard Alex saying on the DVD; ‘Kiss me like you’d kiss Rita, and she’ll know you were thinking of her.’ My God, it was true. When Edward kissed her, it was like he was giving her life, breathing into her a fullness she could barely contain, and yet she hungered for more. When he kissed her, she wanted to devour him, to take him into herself, to fully possess him in ways she couldn’t even possess herself. It made no sense, and yet it was so.

When he tried to pull away she anxiously pulled him back to her, at that moment unable to imagine her mouth without his. For a second he tensed and resisted, then he yielded to her, blessedly allowing her to live just a little longer. ‘I’m not asking you to do it for The Mount.’ He pressed his words breathlessly against her lips. ‘I’m more selfish than that. I’m asking you to do it for me, because you’re all I can think about, because I want to be with you, and this is the only way I know to make that happen.’

‘She’ll never let me pass her task. Surely you know that.’

‘That’s why the others are with her now.’ Alex’s reply shattered the moment.

Edward released her and straightened his jacket. ‘They’re negotiating a length of duration, the parameters for your service to Vivienne and her treatment of you. Plus one of us will be in her apartment with you at all times.’

‘And can’t she just say no to all this negotiation? Following the rules has never been her forte.’

‘Not when she’s threatened with a higher authority,’ Alex said.

‘Trust me,’ Edward said. ‘Even she won’t deny them what they ask this time. I promise you.’

Just then Edward’s phone rang. Rita could only hear his end of the conversation, which consisted of, ‘I see. All right. If that’s what she wants, of course I will. It doesn’t matter. I’ll do it.’

He stuck the phone back in his pocket and sat in silence for a second.

‘Well?’ Alex couldn’t keep the impatience out of his voice.

‘She’s agreed to our terms.’ Edward held Rita’s gaze. ‘Now all that remains, darling, is to get you to agree to finish your initiation.’

‘I’ve already finished my initiation,’ she growled.

‘I know you have. We all know you have, but we all want you to be a part of us, a member of The Mount. And I want that more than you can possibly imagine, Rita.’

‘What guarantee do I have that Vivienne’ll play by the rules this time? Rita asked. ‘She never has before.’

‘Because she doesn’t want the powers that be snooping around, and because I’ll be there with you all the time.’ She didn’t miss the look he shot Alex. ‘We’ll be her slaves together, and if she does anything to harm even the tiniest hair on your head,’ he lifted her chin and laid a tender kiss across her lips, ‘then we slaves will revolt.’

Chapter Nineteen

Lorelei anwered the door to Vivienne’s suite when they arrived. Rita was still struggling to keep from bolting, but Edward and Alex flanked her. In all truth, they were actually supporting her in her weak-kneed effort to enter the lair of the bitch who would soon be her mistress. ‘Keep your eyes averted,’ Alex whispered between clenched teeth. ‘You won’t be a pet here, sorry to say.’

At last Vivienne came into the room, wearing an ice-blue kimono, and looking as though she were expecting either sex, or to torture someone. Rita wondered if there was really any difference between the two with her. She was certain Vivienne would make Aurora look like an amateur in the dungeon. Vivienne smiled like a child at Christmas. ‘Ah, my new slave has arrived.’ Her smile was suddenly swallowed up in a frown. ‘And certainly over dressed for her station. Lorelei, get her out of those clothes. She won’t be needing them.’

It was amazingly hard to keep from crying as the cool blonde began to undress her, one by one removing the garments that had made her feel like a goddess only a few short hours ago. They were replaced with a shift of plain white cotton cut low enough in the front for her breasts to be exposed and slit to the waist in front and behind. Once she was dressed, Vivienne moved to inspect her, running a hand over her breasts. ‘You’re a slave now, girl. You have nothing to hide and everything to offer your superiors.’ She pinched Rita’s nipple causing her to flinch.

Alex grabbed Edward by the arm to keep him from coming to Rita’s aid, but it was too late. Vivienne turned with lightening speed and gave Edward a resounding slap across the face. ‘You will wait quietly or face the consequences. When I’m finished with this slave, then I’ll attend to you. Alex, you may leave. I’ve no room for a third slave in my house right now.’

Alex glared at her, but did not disobey.

When he was gone, she turned her attention back to Rita. She ran her hand inside the front slit of the slave garment and shoved a finger into Rita’s cunt, then chuckled knowingly. ‘Ever at the ready, aren’t you, girl? That’s good because you’ll service any of my guests who request it, though I personally can’t imagine why anyone would. Nonetheless, you’ll provide whatever form of pleasure or service is required in this household while you’re here. Is that clear?’

Rita nodded.

‘Speak up, girl. You’re not in the Zoo now. Is that clear?’

‘Yes.’

‘Yes what?’

‘Yes mistress?’

‘That’s better. May, come here.’ She turned to the Asian woman who was now standing quietly behind them dressed in nothing but black suspenders and spider web stockings that disappeared into heavy biker boots. ‘Take Edward to my room. I’ll deal with him there.’

The Asian nodded and escorted Edward out of the room, but not before he managed one parting glance at Rita.

When they had gone, Vivienne turned her attention back to Rita. ‘You’ll wait here until I’ve dealt with Edward.’ She opened the robe and stepped out of it to reveal a matching corset. ‘That may take awhile,’ she added breathlessly. Then she followed May and Edward into another part of the house, leaving Rita standing alone in the middle of the reception room for what seemed like ages.

In spite of her best efforts, she was unable to keep her thoughts away from what must be going on in Vivienne’s room, and whatever it was, it sounded like a helluva lot more fun than she was having. The groans and grunts of pleasure were unbridled. Anger burned in the pit of her stomach, made hotter by the overwhelming sense of helplessness. It was only Lorelei sitting on the sofa in front of her that kept her from walking out. So this was how Edward was going to protect her, by fucking Vivienne? Somehow his slavery didn’t seem nearly as onerous as hers did.

It was research, she reminded herself. It didn’t matter. It was only for a story, nothing more, but somehow that didn’t make the sounds of pleasure coming from the bedroom any easier to bear.

When Vivienne returned, at last, she was dressed like Athena in a white toga and crested helmet with a horsetail plume. Belted at her waist was a vicious looking flogger, among other strange whip-like objects that made Rita’s skin prickle. ‘Come along, girl. I need your help in the dungeon.’

Rita felt ice in her stomach as she followed Vivienne into the same hallway where Alex had brought her to Edward’s suite, then down a long flight of stairs, as though they were going to the Presence Chamber. But when they arrived at the bottom, there was no mistaking that this was the dungeon. The smell of leather and metal and old candle wax filled the air, along with the more human smells of sweat and sex, and maybe even blood. Rita shivered.

‘This is Aurora’s favourite place,’ Vivienne breathed. ‘But Aurora won’t be with us tonight. It’ll just be you and me meting out the punishment.’ She nodded to a man chained between two supporting pillars, his shadow casting spectral images in the flickering candle light.

‘As you may know, punishment is hard work, and as much as I enjoy watching it and supervising, I really only like to get sweaty for sex.’ She took off her helmet and shook loose her hair, then she handed one of the whips from her belt to Rita. ‘That being the case. You’ll be doing the punishing, getting him ready for me.’ She chuckled softly. ‘Then when he’s all pink-bottomed and gagging for it, you may watch me fuck him.’

A masked guard dressed in black leather from head to toe brought in a sturdy wooden chair for Vivienne. She motioned him to move it close to the chained man.

As they approached, Rita could see that the man in chains was swathed from head to toe in body-hugging black PVC, the very sight of which made her skin crawl.

‘This one,’ Vivienne said, nodding to the prisoner, ‘took unfair advantage of our customers. As the manager of such a fine establishment, I can’t allow such bad behaviour.’ She heaved a sigh. ‘So pretty boy here must be punished. Oh don’t look at me like that, Rita. I do know where the bread comes from. The place wouldn’t run nearly so smoothly and have such a reputation if I wasn’t good at what I do.’

‘But if he likes to be punished, won’t he just be encouraged to do it again so he can get punished again?’

‘I didn’t say he likes being punished, did I?’ She waved a dismissing hand before Rita could protest. ‘Oh don’t worry, it’s completely consensual. Besides, his punishment is a one-off, guaranteed to teach him a lesson.’ She pulled his head up, but the man saw nothing. The only openings in the mask were small breathing holes at the nose and securely closed zippers over his eyes and his mouth. Damn, this lot was fond of zippers, Rita thought. And sure enough, even as the thought crossed her mind, Vivienne opened a trap door zipper that exposed the whole of the man’s arse.

Almost without thinking, Rita reached out and touched the exposed buttocks, which clenched beneath her finger tips. A muffled moan came from inside the suit.

‘Nice, isn’t it?’ Vivienne said. ‘And wait till you see it all pink and throbbing.’ She nodded to the whip, but Rita instinctively took a step back.

‘Girl, I brought you here to serve me. Slaves can be punished, you know, and believe me, I won’t be as gentle as Aurora is. Granted I don’t expect you to know the intricacies of the dungeon, but even you ought to be able to handle a two-tail. Pay attention.’ She grabbed the whip from Rita’s hands and with a fast, efficient whoosh, laid a trail of pink across the man’s arse, making him flinch and moan, then she grabbed Rita’s hand and yanked her down until she could lay her palm against the bulge in the PVC at the man’s crotch. She brought the two-tail down across his bum again. Rita gasped at the feel of the man’s cock surging against her palm and was immediately reminded of the pleasure she felt when Aurora had spanked her.

‘There. You see. He can endure it just fine.’ She handed the two-tail back to Rita. ‘And when he can’t, then I’ll fuck him.’

The first smack against the exposed bottom made Rita’s stomach churn, and for the tiniest of seconds, she thought she might be sick, but instead something amazing happened. Her pussy trembled, and a surge of power moved up through her chest shoving at her nipples. She brought the two-tail down again and heard Vivienne sigh. ‘That’s right, give him what he deserves. Imagine what a cunt he is to take advantage like that, to betray my trust.’

Rita found herself thinking of Vivienne’s chastity belt, of Edward standing by not even trying to stop her, of Edward who got her into this mess in the first place, of Edward who only minutes ago had his cock buried to the hilt in Vivienne’s cunt. And the two-tail came down with such venom that the man uttered a muffled cry inside his suit. Instinctively she reached to feel his crotch. Apparently the pain had not taken away from the pleasure. The man felt as though his cock would burst through the PVC. Vivienne positively squirmed with delight. Then to Rita’s surprise, she lifted her toga, exposing her bare pussy. The dungeon guard who had brought her the chair helped her to her feet and into a mean-looking strap on.

Rita’s heart was in her throat as Vivienne shed the toga completely and moved into position wearing nothing but the strap-on. The man’s tight nether hole clenched and unclenched almost as if he anticipated what would come next. ‘Well?’ Vivienne stroked the strap-on. ‘Lubricate it for me.’

Rita dropped to her knees and began to deep throat the appendage, but stopped abruptly when Vivienne clouted her across the top of the head. ‘Not the strap-on, you stupid cow, him. Get his arse ready for me.’

The man’s bottom was now bright red. Though he couldn’t speak, he must surely be able to hear, and it seemed to Rita as though he were suddenly straining backward, thrusting his butt out toward her. But then it was easy enough to imagine all sorts of weird things under the circumstances. There was no imagining the clenching and unclenching of his lovely back hole. She suckled two fingers until they were dripping saliva, then spat against his anus and began to massage around it, teasing it open ever so slightly at first with alternating finger tips. The man moaned and clenched his crimson arse cheeks, which she took for encouragement and thrust her middle finger home. There was definitely moaning now. As she stretched him and massaged him, he wriggled and thrust back against her hand.

The two-tail came down hard against the man’s ass, causing Rita to jump back and catch her breath. ‘You keep quiet, you twat.’ Vivienne ordered the man. ‘You’re being punished, and you know you deserve it.’ She smacked him again and nodded for Rita to continue.

Rita had just inserted a second finger and was scissoring back and forth inside his anus when there was yet another loud zipping sound. Vivienne pulled the whole bottom half of the man’s suit down around his ankles, and his erection popped free as though it were spring loaded. Then she handed Rita the two-tail, pushed her aside and bore into the man’s anus with the strap-on. He bucked, grunted and gasped. With one hand, she clamped down on the underside of his penis with her thumb and growled. ‘You’ll come when I give you permission and not before.’ Then she nodded to the two-tail. ‘Use it on his balls. He’s a bad boy. He deserves his punishment.’

Rita did as she was told, very gently at first until Vivienne cuffed the back of her head again, making her teeth rattle. The next time she smacked him harder and his penis got even bigger, if that were possible.

‘That’s a girl. Smack those distended full sacks. Make them even more uncomfortable’ Vivienne grunted between thrusts. ‘Make him pay for what he’s done. Make him hold it till it hurts. Smack him again, now suck his cock. That’s right, take him in your mouth, all the way, torture him. Make him pay.’

The whole situation was insane. Vivienne was fucking some poor schmuck up the arse with a strap-on – the arse Rita had just fluffed, and she was whipping his balls and sucking his cock. And even more insane, with her other hand, she was finger fucking herself like there was no tomorrow.

Vivienne’s laughter wormed its way into her head. ‘That’s right. Punishment makes your pussy wet whether you’re taking it or giving it, doesn’t it girl?’

The man was in a frenzy, grunting and thrusting and half howling his frustration like some muffled, strangled animal trapped inside the PVC suit. And the more he wanted it, the more turned on Rita was.

‘You want him to fuck your little hot fanny, don’t you, Rita? Don’t you?’

‘Yes,’ Rita gasped pulling away from his cock. ‘Yes I want him to fuck me.’

Vivienne’s laughter rang through the dungeon and echoed off the walls. ‘That’s too bad, girl, because he’s not for you.’ She pulled out with such force that the man howled frustration or pain. It wasn’t clear which. She ripped the strap-on free, then in a well-practised move, she undid the man’s shackles and shoved him back into the chair where he landed on his wounded bottom with a hard grunt and a sharp intake of breath. ‘No, he’s definitely not for you, Rita. As I said, you may punish him. In fact, I have no doubt that he deserves punishment from you. But I’m the one who fucks him. He’s all mine. Aren’t you Edward?’ She turned her back on Rita and straddled the gasping Edward, easing herself down onto his cock with a breathy whimper. ‘But you can watch while he makes me come. Then you can watch while he comes, would you like that, dear?’

Rita saw everything through a cold red haze that made it feel like her head would explode. But in spite of the anger and humiliation, the watching still made her pussy ache to be satisfied. Vivienne hammered and ground against Edward with angry grunts that sounded more like rage than pleasure. And after her first orgasm, she unzipped Edward’s eye slots, and giggled almost girlishly. ‘You can come now Edward.’

And he did come, lifting Vivienne from the chair wrapping her legs around him and hammering her against the wall with so much force that Rita feared he’d break her spine, and yet she came, and kept coming until Edward was spent and dropped to the floor on his knees. And then Rita came, her orgasm racking her like some strange burning torture, all of which she experienced through a mist of angry tears.

Chapter Twenty

Recognition didn’t come nearly as often as Owen would have liked, but occasionally it came just at the right time, and today happened to be one of those times. ‘Thanks luv. You’re a lifesaver.’ He gave the house cleaner of the flat complex where Rita lived just enough of a kiss on the cheek to make her think she was the only woman in the world. ‘I’ll let myself out when I’m done. Here, this is for your help. Rita will be so relieved that the story will now be in the next issue, thanks to you.’ He handed her twenty quid, after all, he could afford it. Then he added, ‘she might even mention you in the story, you know, a little thank you at the end. Would you like that, honey?’

He wasn’t sure how much English the woman understood, but she understood twenty quid, and she understood he was hot and paying attention to her. That was enough. It was usually enough. Besides, the woman had nice tits.

Inside Rita’s flat, he pulled the door to behind him. He didn’t know how much time he had. The last time she called him it was to say that the information she had got in Kent was paying off and she’d be out of the office for a while. Frankly he didn’t care where the hell she was. He didn’t need her any more.

He slipped off his shoes and dug in his pocket for latex gloves. He wasn’t about to leave fingerprints. Who knew what could happen? In the lounge next to the window he booted the computer and waited impatiently for it to come up. He had checked her pc at the office, but not with much hope, since she was never there these days. He didn’t know what difference it made, since Vivienne had basically already written the story. He wished she would give it to him. He didn’t have a good feeling about putting something in the magazine without time to go over it and add his personal touches, but in the end it wouldn’t matter. The money was in his account, and he was willing to let Vivienne put whatever she wanted into Talkabout. After all, it wasn’t his magazine. Any story on The Mount would be a coup for him. Besides hadn’t Lorelei promised it would be an award-winning exposé? It was win-win the way he saw it. Add to that getting to fuck Lorelei a couple of times a week and life couldn’t get much better. Who knew, maybe Vivienne would be so grateful that he might even get inside her sexy little cunt. His cock felt heavy at the thought.

He was surprised to find nothing on Rita’s computer was encrypted. There were no passwords, no secret files, no nothing. It was amazingly generic really, other than all the basic research on The Mount, the same information he already had. She had recently accessed several vintage porn sites. He quickly keyed the sites into his Blackberry chuckling to himself. He would have never figured Miss All-Work-and-No-Play for an internet porn fan.

After an hour of searching, his frustration levels were peaking, and if he had been at home, he would have thrown something. He knew a fair amount about computers, and he had expected that whatever he found would be encrypted. Vivienne didn’t seem interested in what he found as long as he found something. And he hated the thought of disappointing Vivienne.

But it was beginning to look like disappoint Vivienne he would, because wherever Rita kept the information she had gathered about The Mount, it wasn’t here or in the office. He was just getting ready to close down when he noticed an incoming email. He hadn’t thought about emails! Quickly he pulled up the new message. It was from Rita’s mother.

Rita,

This has got to stop. Why are you keeping me away? How long will you punish me for the past? I’m your mother, no matter how much you pretend otherwise, and I love you. Please at least email. We can work this out.

A quick look down through Rita’s emails revealed a good half of them were from her mother, and none of them answered. He wondered what had happened that would keep a girl from her mother, especially a girl that he grudgingly had to admit, had so much potential. But that wouldn’t interest Vivienne.

He reached down to shut off the computer, and his Blackberry slipped from its case onto the floor. As he bent to pick it up, he noticed a memory stick lying on the under frame of the computer table, completely hidden from sight. His heart skipped a beat, as he fumbled it and dropped it beneath the table. On his hands and knees, he dug it out, then stuck it into the port. And there it was! Pages and pages of notes on The Mount, all written by date, almost as though it were a journal. He read with his pulse racing.

– Leo never fucks his pets, in fact he treats them all with the greatest of kindness, but he chooses which pets can fuck which, and he watches. Having him watch while Brutus fucked me was almost as arousing as the sex itself. I don’t know what any of these people do when they aren’t pets. Pets don’t talk, so we only know what we can communicate with our bodies.

Owen unzipped his trousers to give his engorging cock a little breathing room. Jesus! Who’d have thought Little Miss Pert Tits had such a wild streak? He read on, stroking his lengthening penis with a latexed hand.

–I don’t fully understand what initiation into The Mount involves. So far it seems to involve lots of sex, good sex, sometimes scary sex. But there’s so much more. I know there is, but I can’t seem to get anyone to talk to me. The vintage porn sites seem to indicate that The Mount may have been around for a very long time. Not the restaurant, but the society, or cult or whatever it is.

A secret sex cult? Well everyone in London had heard those rumours, but could they possibly be true? And was it possible that Vivienne would give him anything as juicy as this to publish?

–At first I was afraid, hand-cuffed to the handlebars of the Harley, alone in the dark with both my holes filled. But when I calmed down a bit, I realised I could not only come easily in this predicament, but I could come repeatedly, and every orgasm built on the last, stronger than the one before. It was like I was on some incredible drug, the more I orgasmed, the more powerful I felt, and the more powerful I felt, the more mind-blowing the orgasm. I don’t know where I was when Morgan returned, but it wasn’t anywhere on this planet. When he returned, he took out the dildo and fucked me, and I think he must have felt what I was feeling. He came so hard I thought he’d break bones, and he kept coming. The sex was wild and feral. His leopard tattoo seemed amazingly appropriate under the circumstances.

Owen downloaded the files with one hand, while the other worked his cock. He had just put everything back in its place and was about to shut down, when he had an idea. He went back to the emails from Rita’s mother and copied them, still stroking his cock.

When he shut down the computer, he could hear the cleaning woman just outside the door. He did his best to stuff himself back in his trousers, then opened the door and motioned her inside.

She liked the kissing. She definitely had the tongue for it. She didn’t seem to notice the latex gloves, or maybe she thought it was just kinky. At first she protested when he pushed her back against the door and kneaded her tits. But it wasn’t much of a protest, and when he sucked and nipped her through her white T-shirt until her nipples swelled like they’d drill through the fabric, she whimpered softly and reached for his fly. With slight of hand in which he prided himself, he slipped a condom over his cock. After all, he didn’t know where this chick was from.

Under her skirt, beneath practical cotton knickers, her pussy was shaved smooth and slick. It gripped at his fingers like a sucking mouth. When he shoved aside the crotch and pushed into her, her eyelids fluttered and she gasped some gibberish he didn’t recognise before she wrapped her legs around him and braced herself against the door frame.

He thrust so hard, he feared he might break the door, but he couldn’t help it, not after what he’d just read. The cleaner’s lovely tits bounced and bounced with each thrust, and she kept saying. ‘Is good, so good. Is good, so good.’

After he came, he disposed of the condom and the gloves in the cleaner’s rubbish bin, kissed her on the cheek and, feeling rather generous, he slipped her another twenty quid.

Once he was out of Rita’s flat and back in his car, he called Lorelei on the designated mobile and arranged a meeting at the Ritz, giving himself enough time to get back to his flat for a shower and a freshen-up. After what he had just found, he figured he was guaranteed a very good fuck from Lorelei. Things just kept getting better and better.

Chapter Twenty-one

Sleep never came easily for Rita lying on the thick carpeted floor at the foot of Vivienne’s enormous bed. Perhaps it was knowing that Edward was always in that bed with the bitch. But then so were several other people. It was humiliating on the bad days to lie there listening to the wet sounds of sex, and instead of being outraged by her obvious ostracising, being so horny that there was no rest until she came on her fingers, often more than once. In spite of Vivienne’s instructions that she was to allow herself to be fucked by whoever wanted her, Vivienne had angrily refused all those who had asked for her company and made her watch without touching herself while she offered them any of her other servants to satisfy their needs. Some of them got off on being watched by Rita. Most didn’t care as long as they got fucked.

Edward, for the most part, ignored her, hidden behind his golden mask and often trussed up in whatever costume suited Vivienne’s fancy at the moment.

It was the first peaceful night in Vivienne’s flat since Rita became the woman’s slave. Vivienne had spent the evening at The Mount, making an appearance and doing her normal working duties. She returned to her apartment complaining of a headache, for which she took two sleeping pills and a glass of fizz. Then she shooed everyone out of her room except for Edward, making venomous threats toward anyone stupid enough to disturb her. A few had headed off to various guest rooms in the flat. Most had sought out other more hospitable accommodations. Rita had found a place on the floor of the lounge in a pile of pillows – slaves were not allowed on the furniture unless they were invited. It was the most comfortable bed she had had since her arrival, and still she couldn’t sleep.

Try though she might she couldn’t shut out thoughts of Edward cosied up with Vivienne. Every little night sound caught her imagination. Was Edward fucking her quietly, secretly, folded around her in a spoon position, his hands cupping her exquisite breasts? Or maybe his face was buried between her legs; maybe he was licking fizz from Vivienne’s girlie cup as he had done to her.

Whatever he was doing, he would be without a mask. The thought twisted her insides to some weird hybrid of pain and arousal. Had she not endured all this just for a glimpse of his face? That was stupid! She thrashed amid the pillows trying to get comfortable. Of course she had endured all this for the story, and whatever feelings she might have had for Edward, he certainly didn’t return. She was a game, nothing more. Just like Vivienne had said.

She rose and tiptoed into the kitchen for a glass of water. She was all about getting her exposé, she reminded herself. What better time to do a little research than when Vivienne was in a drugged sleep.

The flat was enormous, but she had been there long enough to know her way around. She tiptoed down the hallway to the study, which was on the river side of the flat, and a long way from Vivienne’s room. Even without sleeping pills and fizz, one could have an orgy in the study and Vivienne would never hear. Rita had massaged Vivienne’s feet there once while the woman took care of paperwork. She had promised herself she’d come back to check things out first chance she got.

Quietly she squeezed between double doors made of some exotic wood with a swirling pattern in the grain, pulling them shut behind her. The study was almost as big as Leo’s, but much less masculine. The city was never really dark and streetlights bathed the room in silver glow, so much so that she could almost read by it. In spite of the fact that the building had been renovated when The Mount sprang into existence, the study had the feel of a place untouched by time, and that intrigued Rita. The antique wooden file cabinets were locked, and so was the big oak desk. She craned her neck to take in all the shelves of books. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack even if she knew what she was looking for, and she didn’t.

In the pale light, her attention was drawn to the marble sculpture that rose like a bas relief from floor to ceiling against the back section of wall. It was the familiar motif of Venus and Mars wrapped around each other in a conjugal embrace. Mars’s armour and weapons were strewn across a woodland glade. He wore nothing but a beautiful erection, which he was about to thrust between Venus’s open thighs. The thin fabric of Venus’s gown had been pushed up over her hips to reveal the sculpted details of her vulva exquisitely open and ready for penetration.

With one hand, Mars fondled her full breasts, which had tumbled free from the top of her gown, while the other supported her bottom in his efforts to lift her onto him. The sculpture had the fine attention to detail Rita had seen in the works of Bernini. Mars’s fingertips seemed to press into the soft flesh of Venus’s breasts and buttocks. Rita could almost see the moisture dewing between Venus’s labia. The work had the patina of old marble, and the power to elicit arousal, like everything else at The Mount.

Rita couldn’t resist touching the sculpture, knowing that she would be well punished for it if she were caught. She ran her hand up over Venus’s flank, traced the shape of her open vulva, then turned her attention to Mars, running her fingers down the flat of his stomach, catching her breath at the exquisite detail of his pubic curls. She couldn’t resist. She slid her hand down and closed it around the shaft of his penis, moving her fingers over the cool marble until her thumb came to stroke the curved rim just below the head.

There was a click that sounded unbelievably loud in the silence. She jumped back and caught her breath, just as the whole panel on which the sculpture was mounted swung open to reveal a small, wooden chamber lit by the flicker of gas light.

When she was in control of her racing heart again, she cautiously stepped inside. The room was not much wider than her bathroom at home, but longer, both sides lined with leather-bound volumes. She leaned close and squinted at one of them. The gold gothic lettering read, The Laws and Statutes of the Covens of The Mount. London Coven. It was dated 1898. From what she could tell, the earliest volumes dated back to the late 16th century. A careful glance inside revealed that the older volumes were all in Latin. As she walked slowly down the length of the room perusing the shelves, the books became histories, again the earlier ones in Latin. There were volumes upon volumes, all labelled The History of The Mount, London Coven, followed by dates.

Her pulse was like a drum roll in her ears, and her lungs struggled to get enough oxygen. This was exactly the break she had been looking for, and yet, how could it possibly be?

She tiptoed to the back of the room, where there was an oak chair and table on which one of the volumes lay open next to a bottle of ink and a nibbed pen. Scarcely trusting herself, she squinted down at the open page to find handwritten in italic script:

In spite of all that Vivienne demands of her, the initiate, Rita Ellison Holly, continues to conduct herself in a manner that none can question. The rest of the council grow tired of her prolonged suffering, and yet there is nothing we can do other than bring the matter before the Elders and risk everything we’ve worked so hard for. Rome still considers us little more than a backwater coven, primitive and barbaric, hardly worthy to be considered a coven at all. And if we were to make our situation known, perhaps we would only confirm their opinion of us. But then again, perhaps they are right.

Beneath was a pen and ink drawing of a sleeping woman stretched on her side. The shift she wore had fallen away to expose her full breasts, nipples tight – perhaps from something in the dream world. The hem of the garment was scrunched around her hips just high enough to intimate what lay at the juncture of her thighs. With a start, Rita realised she was looking at a drawing of herself curled at the foot of Vivienne’s bed.

It was signed, Edward Darcy Ellison.

‘What are you doing here?’ Edward’s voice came from behind her, but before she could do more than jump, he commanded, ‘Don’t turn around. Stay put, and close your eyes.’

She did as he said. There was a click and the sound of the panel closing.

‘Sit down.’

She obeyed, not sure how much longer she could have stood anyway.

He approached her from behind and slipped a black silk handkerchief over her eyes, tying it securely against the back of her head. ‘I’m not masked,’ he said, ‘so you’ll have to be. It’ll be like old times.’

For a long moment there was silence, so much so that she wasn’t sure he was still in the room with her. Then at last he spoke with a heavy sigh. ‘It’s true then, you are planning to do an exposé, and this whole thing has all been about your story.’

Before she could make an excuse, he continued. ‘Oh, I don’t blame you. I would do the same if I were you, especially after all that’s happened. But I had hoped …’ His voice drifted off, and once again she wasn’t sure he was still there in the room.

‘Hoped what?’

He forced a laugh that sounded almost painful. ‘Surely you must know what I hope.’

‘No, I don’t. I have no idea what you hope. I just assumed you were all bored and I was the entertainment, then behind closed doors while you fuck each other, you and Vivienne have a good laugh at my expense.’

His hand came down so hard on the table next to her that she could feel the breeze it generated. She yelped and practically fell out of the chair. ‘You can’t possibly believe that, Rita.’ Suddenly he was kneeling in front of her, grasping her hands in his. ‘You can’t honestly believe that I would rather be with her, that I would –’

Her laugh soured at the back of her mouth. ‘What am I supposed to believe, Edward? Vivienne couldn’t wait to get you off to her bedroom to fuck her when we first got here, even before you two tricked me in the dungeon. It all seems pretty clear to me.’

‘Jesus, Rita! What are you talking about? I was hauled off to the dungeon and prepared for her little joke as soon as I was turned over to May. Whoever it was in the bedroom with her, it sure as hell wasn’t me.’ She felt him move and figured he had sat down on the floor next to her. ‘As for the dungeon,’ he continued, ‘I had no choice. My part in this deal in order to stay close to you, is that I am to fuck her when she wants it, and that I am to show my appreciation for her kind condescension by coming when I’m expected to.

‘And in the meantime,’ his voice trembled with anger, ‘just in case I decide I might want to sneak off with you, she’s taken care of that too.’ He stood quickly and she heard the swish of clothing, then he guided her hand to his bare belly. There was a sharp intake of breath as he guided her fingers to rest, first against the hard leather and metal belted low around his waist, then still lower to the tight-fitting metal that caged his penis and balls unyieldingly.

With a groan that sounded feral and desperate, she tried to pull away, but he held her hand against the cage of the chastity belt. ‘This is my punishment for wanting you.’ Then he pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it. She could hear his heart beat in the raging of his breath. ‘This is my punishment for loving you.’

He gave his words no time to sink in, no time to find that place inside her that usually did a fair job of separating reality from fantasy. Once again he was on his knees, this time pushing her thighs open, exposing the tender inner flesh to the efforts of his insistent mouth sucking and nipping and kissing a path toward her pussy.

‘No Edward.’ She tried to push him away. ‘Don’t do this. I can’t reciprocate and you won’t be able to come and –’

‘Shshsh.’ He rose from his explorations and silenced her protests with a kiss. ‘I can cope with the chastity belt. I’ve done it before.’ He slipped a hand down over her pubis, pushed the slave gown aside and entered her with his middle finger. Her pussy grasped hungrily at him and she shifted her hips back and forth against him almost involuntarily.

‘There, you see?’ He whispered against her nape. ‘I can feel how badly you need it after all these nights when you’ve had to lie there alone on the floor with no one to hold you.’ He slipped his other hand inside the yielding top of the gown and cupped her breasts in turn, stroking her nipples with the pad of his thumb, ‘with no one to help you orgasm. And when I have to come with Vivienne,’ he nuzzled his way down to her breasts and suckled, then ran his tongue around her areolae, ‘I think of you lying there on the floor masturbating, and I imagine pushing my cock into your pussy and emptying all my pent-up desire into you.’ He inserted another finger into her cunt and stroked her clit in tight circles with his thumb, causing her to gasp and squirm beneath his touch. ‘I’m not sure the whole world could contain my desire for you, Rita Holly.’

As he kissed and fondled his way down over her belly, his grunts and groans were the sounds of pleasure and not the frustration she had expected. ‘My God,’ he whispered as he lowered his face to nuzzle in between her legs. ‘I’ve dreams about the way you smell, the way you taste, oh such lovely dreams.’ His tongue flicked over her distended clit and she whimpered and lifted her arse off the chair offering him her cunt like some animal in heat, and he responded in kind, licking and nipping at her swollen labia until her lips pouted their full invitation to his advances. Then he lifted her feet onto his shoulders so she could bear down on him, positioning her bottom exactly where he wanted it. Then he ate her like a feast, his own little grunts and gasps defying the restraints of the chastity belt as she humped his mouth shamelessly until there was no breath left in her, no strength, no thought that didn’t involve his mouth on her pussy. But instead of backing off when her cunt began to shudder with orgasm, he pressed in closer, opening his mouth wide, as though he would devour her vulva whole, raking across the folds and valleys of her with his teeth. He wriggled his tongue deeper into her, and drew his lips tight around the hard rise of her clit, keeping her whole body at a plateau where orgasm thrummed nearly continually over her distended clit and up her spine.

He moaned as though the pleasure were his own, cupping her buttocks in his hands, drawing her still closer, stroking her anus with an insistent finger, which became bolder in its pressings until it fucked her nether hole like a penis while the waves of pleasure washed over her again and again.

***

Some time later, she didn’t know how long, but when the world calmed around her again, she lay on the wooden floor wrapped in his arms, the hard press of his chastity belt against her thigh. She struggled to move, but he pulled her back to him.

‘She’ll find us.’

‘She can’t come in here. Only I have access. And it’s still early. She never rises before noon, especially not after she’s taken sleeping pills.’ He kissed her ear and cupped her breast. ‘We can stay just a little while longer.’

‘You wrote that, and did the sketch?’ She nodded to where she assumed the table was, but it could have just as easily been toward the door.

‘Yes. The sketch, well I come from a long line of artsy folk. As for the rest, I’m the historian of the London Coven.’

‘Then you’re witches?’

‘Of course not. When we chose to call ourselves covens it was an act of defiance really, a way of thumbing our noses at the church, at the powers that be, at the powers that wanted to control what a person believes, what a person does with his or her body, who a person makes love with.’ He chuckled softly. ‘Of course no one knew any of this but us. We were a secret society, and still are after all these years.’

‘How many years?’

‘Lots. Possibly even more than any of us know.’

‘And this isn’t the only coven.’

‘There are others, all organised the same, all overseen by a high council.

‘Then there are members who aren’t on the council?’

‘Yes, people from all walks of life, bankers, scientists, housewives, lorry drivers.’

She took a second to let the thought of a housewife dominatrix sink in before she spoke. ‘Vivienne called me Rita Ellison Holly. Why?’

‘Because I recruited you, you share my name. It’s always been that way with The Mount. I can give you a basic overview of the history and how we work if you’d like. You’ll get all that when you’re finished with the initiation, but if you’re not planning to hang around, then you might as well know now.’

‘I don’t understand. I’ve researched everyone here at The Mount, and granted I couldn’t find much, but I found a little something on everyone. Everyone but you. For you, I found nothing. It’s like you don’t exist.’

‘I don’t. At least not right now.’ He forced a pained laugh. ‘But I keep hoping that will change soon.’

‘That makes no sense. How can you not exist? You’re right here, next to me in my arms, and –’

‘And you’ve never seen my face.’

His words unsettled her, made muscles that had nothing to do with sex knot. She remembered Vivienne referring to him as the monster behind the mask, and in spite of the warmth of the room, she felt cold.

He placed his fingers against her mouth. ‘We won’t speak of this, not now. But I hope the time will come when we can.’

She snuggled back against him, revelling in the shape of his body, wondering what it would be like to be with him without the chastity belt, to stay wrapped in his arms all night. ‘Why are you telling me all this if you know I’m going to write an exposé?’

She felt him shrug against her. ‘Maybe it’s time we were exposed. Maybe we deserve nothing better.’

She didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing.

‘And just so you know, you were never only the entertainment. Everyone who has been with you loves you. We all love you. We want you to be a part of us.’

She struggled to breathe. ‘If you love me, then why don’t you just be with me? Why do you let her do this to you?’

‘I can’t tell you that yet, but I promise if you finish the initiation, she’ll no longer hold sway, and then we can be together. I know that sounds like an excuse, believe me, I know, but it’s the best I can give you right now.’ He placed a soft kiss on the back of her neck. ‘Please trust me. Please just try to hang on just a little longer.’

‘And the exposé?’

His sigh was warm against her neck. ‘Darling, nothing you could do would make me love you less, but consider this; I’m not the only one who will be hurt by this exposé, and the person who will probably be hurt by it the least is Vivienne.’

He helped her to her feet and walked her back to her pallet of pillows on the floor. ‘Get some sleep, my love, and I promise you, we’ll get through this.’

It was nearly three days before they had the chance to speak again, and that only fleetingly, but it was enough. Vivienne was checking out the wine cellar for a special vintage for some VIP arriving unexpectedly, and Lorelei was called away on business. May, who was supposed to be keeping an eye on her, was in the shower. Rita caught Edward on his way to the history vault. With trembling fingers, she passed him the flash card, anxious to be rid of it. ‘This is for you. Alex dropped by the house and picked it up for me.’

For a second he stared down at the tiny piece of plastic and metal before closing his fingers around it in a grip so tight his knuckles shown white in the afternoon light. ‘Are you sure?’

‘I’m sure.’ She swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘All I ever really wanted was to see your face, and I don’t want the first look I see on it to be disappointment.’

He scooped her into his arms and kissed her, whispering in a breathless gasp against her ear. ‘I love you, Rita Holly.’

Then they heard the front door open and Vivienne complaining about the mess the wine cellar was in, and they both fled their separate ways, Rita seeking the far corner of the flat, hoping Vivienne wouldn’t holler for her until she had her emotions under control again.

Chapter Twenty-two

‘No one will believe this story was written by any of the Talkabout staff,’ Owen said. It took him a second to realise that the harsh rasping sound was his breath, and he was now wishing like hell that he’d given the steak and kidney pie a miss at lunch. Indigestion was the last thing he had expected when he arrived at the hotel room which had become the venue for his regular rendezvous with Lorelei.

He sat stiffly at the table staring at the monitor of his laptop, but no matter how long he glared at the words of the document, they didn’t set any better with his internal editor. His cock, which until minutes ago had been ready and anxious to play, was now unusually limp. He forced his attention back to Lorelei, but even her outrageous curves swathed in mauve silk couldn’t make the story on the monitor look any better.

She was saying, ‘The magazine will, of course, be given a chance to retract the story and offer an apology to The Mount. I’m sure they won’t want to take us on in court.’

‘I don’t understand. Why are you giving me this story if you’re then going to turn around and sue Talkabout for printing it?’

‘It’s not for you to understand, Owen. All you need to know is that it serves our purpose.’

He shoved a sweaty hand through his hair and bit his lip until it hurt. ‘This will end my career, you know that?’

‘Oh come on, darling, don’t pout.’ She fondled his tie, tugging on it until it reminded him disturbingly of a noose, then she giggled softly. ‘You’ve been well compensated, in lots of ways.’ She nodded to his crotch, which suddenly felt extremely vulnerable. Then she added, ‘You’ve made sure Rita Holly gets the credit for the story?’

‘Yes.’ He pulled the tie away from her and tugged at his collar, which seemed unusually tight. ‘Just like you asked, but I’m her editor, no editor with half a brain would print this story.’

Lorelei rolled her eyes. ‘Oh please, Owen, like you care about the magazine’s reputation. We know how much you hate your boss, how much you think this job is beneath someone of your talent. What better way to get even with the bastard? Don’t you see the beauty of the plan?’ She opened the chic leather brief case on the dressing table and rummaged through it. ‘It’s nothing personal, and anyway it won’t be you that we’ll be threatening, will it?’

‘Well, Rita Holly sure as hell doesn’t have any money. She’s a nobody.’

‘That’s right, she’s a nobody. She’s irrelevant. She’s just serving a purpose.’

‘Like I am.’

‘Yes. Like you are. Only she doesn’t know it. You do. You’ve known it from the beginning.’ She pulled a file folder from the case and handed it to him.

‘What’s this?’

‘The lease to your villa in Majorca. Yours to enjoy as long as you live. A bonus for your full cooperation. You do like Majorca, don’t you? I took the liberty of including a few photos.’

And she had. There was a pool, a view of the sea. There was a master bedroom bigger than the whole Talkabout office suite. And in spite of the situation in which he found himself, he suddenly had a hard-on.

She handed him a first-class plane ticket. ‘You fly tomorrow, before the magazine hits the streets. Your accounts here have been closed and the money transferred.’ She handed him a sealed envelope. ‘Here are your bank documents.’

For a second, he could do nothing but stare down at the new life The Mount has so effortlessly, and efficiently, arranged for him. At last, he managed a breathy half-whisper. ‘How did you do this? How did you get my information?’

‘That’s not your concern, but you would do well to remember just how easily it was all taken care of.’ She closed the briefcase with a resounding snap. ‘What is your concern is this. That you never set foot on British soil again.’

Before the shock of her words could even knot his stomach, she unzipped the silk dress and stepped out of it. ‘You are never to speak to anyone about anything that has gone on between us.’ She waved a dismissive hand before kneeling on the floor in front of him and unzipping his trousers. ‘Oh it’s all right if you mention the time you came to The Mount with Rita. People saw you there, after all.’ She eased his cock out of his trousers and gave it a deep-throated suck that made the whole encounter seem even more surreal than it already was.

Then she pulled away with an ice cream cone lick to the length of him, and slipped out of her bra. ‘You are never to mention to anyone where you got the money. Is that clear?’

He nodded. He’d didn’t much like bossy women, but God, she was so exquisite, and such a delicious fuck, even when she was manipulating his life like it was some sort of computer game. He forced his attention back to her lecture. ‘Good. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, your long-lost auntie died and left you her fortune.’ She cupped her heavy tits around his cock, and in a mix of horror and arousal, not quite sure if his luck was good or bad, he began to thrust. How could he help himself?

She chuckled softly. ‘There, you see? The whole arrangement is growing on you, isn’t it?’ As if to emphasise her words, she began to tongue the head of his cock, creating a seesaw of irresistible sensations each time he thrust.

‘I have …’ Lick, thrust, ‘family here …’ Lick, thrust suck. ‘Friends,’ he grunted, cupping the sides of her tits to tighten their grip, feeling like his balls would burst from the weight of their load, and wondering how he could be aroused when his world was crumbling around him …sort of.

‘Your friends can come to you.’ Lick. Lick. Thrust. ‘Remember,’ suck, thrust, ‘you can afford to fly them to your villa whenever you want.’ She stood and slid out of her knickers in a move that was as business-like as her handling of the contents of the briefcase, and Jesus, it was such a turn on! The woman was destroying his career, and she would, no doubt make him come, in the process, and he would absolutely not resist. Was that sick, or what?

‘Vivienne’s given you a win-win situation.’ He returned his attention to the mouth that had been sucking his cock and tried to concentrate on her words. ‘Surely you can see that, Owen? She even arranged to have your belongings shipped to you. And my cunt.’ With her long mauve nails, she opened her slit making certain he got a good look at the juicy pink swell of her, then she rubbed her thumb rhythmically over the growing nub of her clit. ‘My very horny cunt is all yours until the limo comes to take you to the airport.’ With that she positioned her pout above his cock and wriggled down onto him, squeezing and kneading with her girlie muscles until he couldn’t think straight, until it was all he could do to hold his wad.

‘But remember, Owen dear,’ she leaned forward and bit his earlobe almost causing pain, ‘if you break any of these simple rules Vivienne has set for you,’ her voice became a humid whisper, ‘you’ll lose it all as quickly as you gained it.’ She chuckled softly. ‘The Mount giveth, and The Mount taketh away.’ She ground her bottom into his lap and gripped him so tightly that he cried out, unable to breathe, as he shot his load in gut-wrenching spurts.

When he was done, she grabbed his hair and pulled him into a deep, dangerous kiss, her tongue snaking inside his mouth like she owned it. Then she pulled away and wiped mauve lipstick from his parched lips. ‘There. You see, Owen? Money, sex, a story that will rock London. All your dreams are coming true, just like you always wanted.’

Chapter Twenty-three

‘Get dressed,’ May spoke like she was talking to a naughty child. She handed Rita jeans and a T-shirt and a hooded jacket along with some plain-Jane underwear, then she left, pulling the door shut behind her. Rita heard the key turn in the lock.

She had been changing Vivienne’s bed, a task the woman delighted in giving her on the mornings after the orgy had been particularly good, in spite of the fact that there was a full cleaning staff. It was only then that Rita noticed the silence, and her skin crawled up her spine. Vivienne’s flat was never silent, usually not even in the middle of the night. She wasn’t certain, but it felt like she was alone in the house. She had never been locked in before. There was no need. She knew well enough that if she left, the initiation was over, and she had failed. Vivienne would have loved nothing more, but if she had endured this much, she wasn’t about to give the bitch the satisfaction.

Feeling a rising sense of unease in her chest, she stripped out of her slave dress and put on the street clothes, which felt oddly confining after the days in nothing but the loose cotton shift. She folded the shift neatly and continued with her work. When the bed was changed and the room tidied, she sat down on the floor at the foot of the bed and waited.

The shadows were lengthening when the lock turned in the door, and to her surprise two guards, whom she had never seen before, came into the room.

‘Rita Holly?’ The big one said in a resonant voice that reminded her of a street preacher.

‘Yes?’

‘You are to come with us.’

With one behind and one in front of her, they marched her down the back stairway to the level of the main restaurant, then past the kitchen and down the long stairs to the Presence Chamber. With each step the knot in her stomach grew colder and tighter. Something was wrong. It couldn’t be more obvious if it were written all over the walls in big red letters.

Inside the room, all chairs on the dais were occupied. No one was dressed for the occasion. In fact they all looked as though someone had grabbed them in the middle of whatever it was they were doing. Alex was in sweats with a towel around his neck, looking as though he had had a work-out but no shower. Leo was in khakis with grass stains on both knees, Both Aurora and Morgan looked as though they had just dropped in from the banking district. Lorelei and Vivienne looked like they were dressed for a day of shopping. And Edward looked especially incongruous in the dapper golden mask and jeans with an untucked cotton shirt. No one spoke. No one smiled.

With a wave from Vivienne, the two guards stepped back, and Rita was left alone in the middle of the big room. ‘I’m guessing you know what this is about,’ Vivienne said. It was only then that Rita noticed the copy of Talkabout magazine resting open across her lap, and the knot in her stomach clenched still tighter.

Vivienne stood and came to pace in front of her, magazine in hand. ‘Personally, I would have thought you’d at least have the decency to leave before this, this piece of rubbish hit the stand. But then you’ve never had any shame, have you?’ She came to stand in front of Rita and began to read from the magazine.

Drugs, sex cult, white slavery, endangered species gourmet, we’ve all heard the wild rumours and the gossip about that enigmatic dance club and restaurant, The Mount. And who is to say what’s actually true since reservations are rarer than hen’s teeth, and a night out at The Mount would set most people back a couple months’ salary.

She waved her hand. ‘But never mind any of that, let’s skip over to the good part, shall we?’ She ruffled through the pages and began to read again.

There in front of the High Council, I was stripped and two of the bouncers were ordered to ‘make me come.’

Suddenly Rita felt light-headed, and her face felt as though it would burst into flames.

‘Oh it gets better, much better.’ Vivienne began to pace again and read as though she were auditioning for a role on the West End.

There were at least a dozen of us, all naked, all wearing collars, all forbidden to speak. Then Leo, the bearded one they call The Zoo Keeper, singled me out along with one of the male pets, whom he called Aralias and ordered him to have intercourse with me while he observed and masturbated. He always watched when–

‘Stop it.’ Rita’s voice sounded breathless, like she’d been running. ‘I didn’t write that. I’ve written better than that since I was twelve.’

Vivienne turned on her and slapped her so hard she nearly lost her balance. The two guards came to her aid as she struggled to right herself and to hold back the tears that were as much from rage and frustration as they were from the sting of the slap.

‘Of course you wrote this,’ Vivienne roared. ‘How stupid do you think we are? Who else would have known these things? Who?’ She shook the mangled magazine in Rita’s face, then calmed herself and offered a smile that would have sweetened honey. ‘Of course The Mount will demand a retraction and an apology. You, well you’re hardly worth suing, are you?’ She heaved a sigh. ‘The worst I can do to you is banish you from The Mount and end this travesty of your initiation. If everyone had listened to me in the first place none of this would have happened.

‘She didn’t write it, Vivienne.’ The room was suddenly silent, and Edward got to his feet, holding up the flash card Rita had given him. ‘She gave me this almost a week ago.’

‘Oh for fuck’s sake, Edward, how stupid can you be?’ Vivienne snapped her fingers and Lorelei stood, rattling several sheets of paper. ‘Read it,’ Vivienne ordered.

Lorelei cleared her throat and began to read as though she were reading a poem.

–At first I was afraid, hand-cuffed to the handlebars of the Harley, alone in the dark with both my holes filled But when I calmed down a bit, I realised I could not only come easily in this predicament, but I could come repeatedly, and every orgasm built on the last, every orgasm was stronger than the one before.

Vivienne raised a hand to stop her. ‘I’m not without my resources, Rita. Surely you didn’t think I would trust a journalist into the flock without doing a little research of my own.’

‘If you’d done a little research, you’d have known breaking and entering is illegal, but I’m sure you didn’t do it yourself, did you?’

There was another hard slap across the face, and this time Rita tasted blood.

‘You stupid vile bitch!’ Rita lunged, but the guards grabbed her arms and held her tight.

Out of the corner of her eye, Rita saw two more guards move to flank Edward, who nearly catapulted off the dais to get to her, roaring her name like a lion protecting his pride. Vivienne ignored him.

Rita forced a deep breath, straightened herself and shrugged free of the guards. ‘You know I didn’t write that.’ She held Vivienne’s gaze. ‘If I had written it your arse would have been nailed to the wall where it belongs.’ She turned her attention to the rest of the council. ‘I don’t understand any of you. You outnumber her. Why do you let her push you around like a bunch of goddamned sheep? You know she’s lying. Surely you know she’s lying.’

Vivienne tossed the magazine at Rita’s feet and returned to her chair on the dais as though she were queen of the universe. ‘You’ve all read the evidence. It’s time to vote. Shall we?’ She sounded like she had just asked the local ladies’ club if they wanted tea or coffee.

‘Leo?’

The big man looked tired and drawn. His gaze was on the space behind Rita. His face was neutral. ‘Banish her.’

Aurora bit her lip and shook her head. ‘Banish her.’

Alex cursed under his breath, his eyes locked on her, then he nodded almost painfully. ‘Banish her.’

And so it went, with each vote feeling like a nail in her coffin, until a sense of betrayal sizzled along her nerve, and the knot in her stomach became a clenched fist. Only Edward did not vote. He wasn’t given a vote because she was his recruit. She had no doubt he would be well punished after she left. ‘I’m sorry, Rita,’ he said very softly. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’

She managed only a step forward before the guards flanked her again. ‘If you’re so sorry, Edward, then vote with your feet. Come with me. Don’t let that bitch tell you who you can and can’t be with. You can do what you want. You don’t have to –’

‘Edward? Do what he wants?’ Vivienne laughed as though she had just heard the best joke ever. ‘Afraid not, girl. He’s not free to go with you anywhere. I warned you that you would never be able to understand the relationship Edward and I share. But I’ll try to boil it down for your simple mind. Edward belongs to me, and he knows it, don’t you darling?’ With her hand on his shoulder, she pushed him back down in the chair next to her.

And he stayed.

For the first time, Rita felt like the bottom had dropped out of her world. She turned on her heels and fled up the steps, stumbling through a haze of tears. The guards hurried after her until she pushed through the back exit, then she was alone. Out on the street in was raining, and night was settling on the water pocked Thames. There was a limo waiting to take her home, but she ignored it. She wanted nothing else to do with The Mount. Ever again.

She had sacrificed her job, her heart, everything, and for what? She had enough money for next month’s rent, then after that? Well she didn’t know what after that. At the moment, living rough sounded better than hearing her mother’s I told you so when she showed up home broke and miserable.

It was only after she left The Mount that she realised her mobile had been returned to the inside zipper pocket of the jacket, along with her wallet. In her state, she would not have noticed if the mobile hadn’t signalled an incoming text. For a second, her spirits lifted. Perhaps it was Edward texting to make things right. She jerked it from her pocket, practically dropping it on the wet pavement. It wasn’t Edward. It wasn’t a number she recognised. It simply read.

F U try 2 contact Edward or any1 at TM again, your mum will b told evry detail of the past few wks.

She shoved the offending phone back in her pocket and walked on in the rain, letting the tears fall uncontrolled. Surely the mysterious texter must know that she couldn’t find Edward even if she wanted to. He didn’t exist. Hadn’t he told her that himself? Hadn’t her efforts to research him proven that? She didn’t understand it, but the thought still gave her a chill. Damn it, she should have at least stormed the dais and unmasked him. Surely she deserved to see the face of the man who her ruined her life. Perhaps Vivienne was right. Perhaps he really was a monster after all.

She wasn’t sure how long she walked, but at some point she got tired of being wet and cold and caught a taxi.

As she stumbled up the stairs to her flat, she bumped into Lidia, the cleaning woman, and tried to force an apologetic smile.

‘Oh Ms Holly, Hi. You are so wet. You’ll catch cold.’

‘I’m fine, Lidia,’ she lied. Who knew, maybe next week she’d be needing Lidia to put in a good word for her with the house cleaning agency she worked for. ‘What about you? Do you have an umbrella?’ The girl always seemed so under-dressed for the London weather.

‘My cousin, he is driving taxi. He will come for me.’ She smiled. ‘Did Mr Owen get your memory stick to you? He said you needed it real bad for the important story.’

‘Pardon?’ Rita stopped in her tracks and stood dripping on the carpet. ‘Owen was here?’

‘Oh yes. It is almost two weeks ago now. I let him in. He said it would be OK. Ms Holly? Are you all right?’

Rita suddenly remembered to breathe.

‘Ms Holly, you must go inside now. You’ll catch cold.’

Rita nodded and stumbled up the stairs as though she were sleep-walking. The slimy bastard betrayed her. She should have known when he offered to help with the story that he had something up his sleeve. Damn it! She knew she shouldn’t trust him, but she would have never expected him to pull a stunt like this. He must have been working in cahoots with Vivienne. Surely it couldn’t be a coincidence that he wrote her story and Vivienne ended up with a copy of her private journals. She’d kill him. Next time she saw him she’d rip his throat out and make him eat it. Fat lot of good that would do. The damage was done, and all she could think about was that now she would never get to see Edward’s face.

She slinked up the last flight of stairs barely able to put one soggy foot in front of the other, aching in places she didn’t know existed until tonight, wondering how she’d ever face tomorrow. There was a bottle of malbec in the pantry. She’d start with that, then she’d worry about what to do next. She turned the key in the lock, shoved open the door with gargantuan effort and found herself face to face with her mother.

Chapter Twenty-four

The chick’s parents would shit themselves if they knew their little angel was taking it up both holes and begging the two biker blokes to fuck her harder. Gavin couldn’t remember her family’s title, but they probably owned half of some small county somewhere. And anyway he thought these were the same two bikers who were giving the chick’s father a ride last month. She was just another one of those rich twenty-somethings with no prospects, no ambition, but lots of mum and dad’s money to blow. Like he gave a shit. Rich people could afford to get creative with their sex fantasies. He might be just a glorified bouncer, but what he saw on the job beat the best porn he had ever watched, and he got paid well for his efforts.

Like an unhappy stray cat, the chick suddenly shoved the bikers aside. ‘Get away from me,’ she huffed. ‘You’re rubbish, both of you.’ As she crawled from between them and heaved herself off the big bike, the two blokes shrugged and went to work on each other. The chick’s eyes were locked on Gavin. Both hands cupped her half-lemon tits pinching enormous nipples as she moved toward him. ‘I want a real man.’

Before he could give her the usual, employees don’t fraternise spiel, her tongue was halfway down his throat and she was undoing his fly.

She offered a breathy giggle, at the discovery of his hard-on. ‘I thought you might be enjoying the show.’ She guided his fingers over her smoothly shaved puss. ‘I like to be watched’

He pulled his hand away and struggled to disengage her. ‘You are being watched.’ He nodded to the cameras strategically positioned around the room. ‘So am I, and I’m not a part of your little fantasy.’ He’d already been reprimanded once for taking improper liberties with members, but Vivienne could hardly punish him when every time he turned around she wanted him to fuck her while she pretended to be Rita Holly. And she had literally ordered him to make that bird come, so how could she say anything?

‘Come on,’ the chick pouted. ‘I know you want me.’ She nodded to the two bikers. One was now buried to the hilt in the arse of the other, who was stroking his cock with a vengeance. ‘They won’t miss me.’ She pulled his hand back to her pussy, opening her legs just enough for him to get a good feel of her slippery pout. His cock jerked against his half-open fly. She sighed. ‘There, you see? I bet your balls are so full.’ She guided his hand deeper and gyrated her naked hips like a belly dancer, riding his fingers as they thrust and stroked almost of their own volition.

She undid his fly and shoved trousers and boxers down, groping his arse as she did so. He pulled away long enough to shrug out of his jacket. ‘Mmmm,’ she sighed as she released his erection into her hand. ‘I want it in me.’ Her slit quivered and gripped at his fingers, and the smell of hot pussy bloomed from under the clean sanitised smell of wealth.

‘You’re not in Surrey any more, bitch. If you want that,’ he nodded to his stiff cock, ‘you do what I tell you.’

‘Oooh,’ she breathed. ‘Tell me what to do.’

‘That’s better,’ he whispered, glancing up at the cameras, hoping that Vivienne were watching. Pretty stupid to think such a thing, he knew, but he couldn’t help himself.’ He could feel the rich chick – what was her name, Eliza? Jemima? – straining against his hand, her whole body tightening as she tugged at her tits with one hand and yanked on his cock with the other. Oh, she was close. So close.

He pulled away, and she howled her frustration. He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to him. ‘You come when I say, bitch, so hold your cunt.’ He shoved her to her knees and guided his cock into her mouth, imagining what it would look like to Vivienne, hoping it would make her jealous and hot for him.

The chick moaned and gagged as he thrust into her gob, but she kept sucking like she couldn’t get enough. He slapped her hand away when she tried to finger fuck herself, and she whimpered.

Butt-fucking Biker Bloke grunted, ‘I’m coming, holy fuck, I’m coming!’ Just as the bloke being fucked shot a fountain of semen onto the shiny chrome of the big bike. Gavin was afraid Rich Chick would pinch her swollen nipples right off as she tongued the underside of his cock to the rhythm of her thrusting hips.

‘Stand up,’ he ordered. She had little choice with his hand still twisted in her hair. He half dragged her to the seat of the bike and shoved her up onto it while the two biker blokes looked on stroking their cocks. There, he forced her legs wide apart. Her cunt was all dark and swollen and pulsating. And slippery. God, it was so slippery. She whined and whimpered like a sprog begging for sweeties, lifting her tight little arse off the seat, flashing her clenching bum hole at him. And bloody hell, he had to have her. He felt so full. His need to come was spurred on by the thought of Vivienne watching all wet and horny.

He shoved into the bird’s tight cunt, and she wrapped her legs around him like she would break his ribs. He grabbed her arse and pulled her to him, bending to bite her fat, begging nipples as he did.

‘I’m coming, I’m coming,’ came her humid gasp against his ear. And she gripped him like a tight fist. He held back as long as he could. He didn’t want Vivienne thinking he couldn’t hold his wad. But the chick’s slit was so tight and so wet, and she just kept thrusting against him until it was inevitable. One last hard shove, and he spurted massively, grunting and jerking until it almost hurt, but oh God, such a relief. Such a relief.

Chapter Twenty-five

The thought of turning and running back down the stairs barely had time to register before her mother scooped her into her arms, oblivious to the rain soaking through the front of her very expensive silk blouse. ‘I’m so sorry, my darling, so sorry,’ she whispered against Rita’s shoulder.

Rita could only respond by sobbing. At times like this, maybe a girl just needed her mother. Maybe the unpleasant scene she had been dreading between the two of them could wait, at least for a little while. She had already had enough unpleasantness for one day.

With the front of her blouse wet from the rain and her shoulder wet from Rita snuffling, Coraline Martelli helped her daughter out of her wet clothes and made her a warm cup of cocoa. When the catharsis was over and Rita was swathed in her favourite terry robe and tucked up in her bed, her mother pulled the chair to her bedside and held her hand as she had done when Rita was as a small child. Back then, Rita had thought her mother was a dark-haired angel with pretty red lips that always smiled and strong arms that kept her safe from the monsters under the bed. With a sudden tightness in her throat, Rita realised not that much had changed, except the monsters were now real, and they wanted to destroy her.

Her mother studied her for a long moment in the amber light of the bedside lamp, then she reached out and pushed a damp lock of hair away from her face. ‘You look thin, Ree. I knew that without Rosa to cook for you, you wouldn’t eat well.’

‘Mama, please. I’m eating fine. I’ve just been …’ Her voice drifted off, and in spite of herself, she felt tears welling again.

‘My poor baby. I’m so sorry. I never intended it to be this way. I searched and searched for you. I thought maybe you’d try to find your father. I never imagined you’d leave the States. Then I sent Paulo to London on business, and he discovered these amazing articles by some free-lance journalist named Rita Holly.’

Rita stared down into her cocoa. ‘Using my middle name was a give-away. I should have known better.’

‘It wouldn’t have mattered if you had called yourself Queen Elizabeth, I would have still known it was you. Remember, you used to read all your stories to me when you were a little girl? How could I not recognise the voice of my own daughter all grown up and taking London by storm.’

‘Hardly by storm, Mama. In fact I imagine you’re the only one who noticed.’

Her mother waved away the self deprecation. ‘Anyway, finding you was easy once I realised you had left Seattle and transformed yourself into a London journalist. When I realised what was going on, I knew I had to act. Your friend, Kate let me into your flat once she knew how worried I was.’

And just like that the mother-daughter bliss popped like a soap bubble, and the old issues surfaced again. Rita pulled her hand away from her mother’s grip. ‘So you had me tailed like a petty criminal and bribed my best friend to break you into my flat?’

‘It wasn’t a bribe. She was worried too.’

‘Mama, this is exactly why I left in the first place.’ The venting of her frustration, once begun, was like a runaway train. Defying Coraline Martelli took courage. Best get it all over with before the courage failed her. ‘I needed space. I needed a life of my own, and Martelli isn’t it. I’m not like you. I’m not a born businesswoman. I have no nose for it, no feel for it, and I saw what it did to us, to you, and I just couldn’t – ‘

‘Paulo’s taking over Martelli.’

‘I just couldn’t spend my life doing something I have no love for. I mean it’s hard enough …’ She stopped suddenly and caught her breath as her mother’s words finally soaked in. ‘What?’

‘I said Paulo’s taking over Martelli.’

‘Paulo?’ Rita barely trusted her own voice. ‘Taking over? Really?’

Coraline Martelli held her daughter’s gaze. ‘He has the nose. There’s never been a more loyal employee. Why not? Why shouldn’t he do what he loves? Why shouldn’t you both do what you love?’

Rita held her breath, unable to believe what she was hearing. Paulo had always been like a big brother to her ever since her mother hired him to work in the stockroom in the evenings after school. ‘And you’re OK with that, Mama?’

Her mother nodded. ‘If you’d only told me you wanted to be a journalist instead of running off to England, I would have –’

‘You would have bought me my own magazine, yes I know, Mama, that’s why I didn’t tell you.’ She smoothed the duvet over her lap. ‘I wanted... I needed to do it myself.’

Her mother chuckled softly ‘Only a small magazine, darling. You would have to prove yourself before I bought you a big one.’ She waved away her remark. ‘I would never have pressured you to take over Martelli Fragrance. I remember too well what it was like when your grandfather did that to me.’ She gave a heroic shrug. ‘Fortunately for Martelli, I did have the nose, and the business sense. That’s why I had to find you. That’s what I wanted to tell you.’

She reached out and took Rita’s hand again. ‘I sacrificed a lot for the business, but the one thing I won’t sacrifice is you. So if you’re angry at me for hiring a private detective and deceiving your best friend, well, I can only add those to the long list of things I need to ask your forgiveness for.’

Into the emotionally charged moment the phone rang. It was her mother’s mobile, ringing from inside her bag.

Coraline Martelli groaned and rolled her eyes. ‘I told Paulo not to call me here.’ The ensuing conversation was in animated Italian.

Rita closed her eyes, and the sound of her mother’s voice washed over her as it had done when she was a child. She heard her mother open her brief case and heard her spreading files and bits of paper all over the foot of the bed. It was a good thing her mother had the brains and the nose because she couldn’t organise her way out of a paper bag.

The conversation got louder and Rita opened her eyes as her mother rifled through papers and hand-written notes on Martelli stationery. If it was raining water outside, it was raining bits of paper inside. Rita caught a piece of expensive company stationery before it could float off the edge of the bed, and her heart did a flip-flop.

Suddenly it was as if the room were full of beating wings. She shoved aside the duvet and shuffled to the lounge, plopping down in the chair in front of the desk to boot the computer. Her mother followed, still half-shouting in Italian, hands flying through the air like she was conducting an orchestra. Rita could see her reflection in the monitor as she pulled up the vintage erotica sites one by one, until she came to the one she was looking for.

And there it was, the elegant copperplate script surrounded by the same erotic drawing. How could she not have remembered? She looked down at the words in Latin written beneath a tiny, simplified version of Venus and Mars embracing on the Martelli stationary. In Latin it said, The depths of our animal nature and the highest mount of our divinity. She had seen it all her life and never paid any attention to it. It was just words in Latin. Neither it nor the drawing had meant anything until now.

Her mother had stopped talking, and the phone hung loosely in her hand. Paulo’s confused voice carried on at the other end until she cut him off, and mother and daughter were engulfed in charged silence.

‘You’re a member of The Mount.’ It wasn’t a question.

‘Yes. Roman Coven. I’m the head of the High Council there.’ Her mother gave a self-deprecating smile. ‘We aren’t as barbaric as Vivienne and her lot. We alternate every three years. But I know coven law better than anyone else, so the job falls to me a little more often than I’d like.’ She nodded to the monitor. ‘Those drawings are from my collection. Edward’s great, great grandfather did them.’

Rita felt as though all the air had gone out of her lungs. ‘You know about Vivienne and Edward?’

Coraline Martelli took her daughter’s hands and pulled her away from the computer. ‘I know about everything, dear. In fact, I know more than Vivienne knows. Much more.’

Her mother led her back to the bed and tucked her in, then sat down next to her. For a long moment neither woman spoke, then Rita found her voice. ‘You know everything? How?’

‘Rome is the oldest coven of The Mount. The original. Not much escapes our notice, and even less escapes the head of the High Council.’

‘Especially when the head of the High Council is my mother.’ The thought suddenly made Rita’s head spin. Had her mother gone through what she had gone through?

‘Was my father a member of The Mount then?’ Rita asked.

Her mother shook her head. ‘He was a rock musician, like I said. An American. He wasn’t anybody famous. It was a one-night-stand,’ she reassured her daughter. ‘He didn’t know who I was, and I never even knew his last name, but it wouldn’t have mattered. You would have still been a Martelli. I wanted a daughter, and he didn’t think it a hardship to give me what I wanted.’ She chuckled. ‘Of course he didn’t actually know what I wanted.’

After her mother had given her time to absorb her little bombshell, she continued. ‘I love the business, and I’m good at it, but if you scratch the surface, it’s The Mount that’s shaped me more than anything else, and it’s always been my hope that the time would come when I could share it with you.’

She stood and moved to the window at the foot of Rita’s bed and looked out onto the rainy night. ‘No daughter wants to think about her mother doing what she’s done, especially when it involves initiation into The Mount. That’s why you were invited to join the London Coven. It’s always that way with children of members. Not all children undergo initiation when they’re grown.’ She turned away from the window and offered Rita a smile. ‘But those who choose to, do so in a coven other than that of their parents.’

Suddenly the room felt tight and airless. ‘You knew about this? You knew about Edward?’

Her mother nodded, holding her gaze. ‘I told you, I know everything. That’s why I didn’t come to you sooner.’

‘Since you know everything, then I’m assuming you know that I’ve been banished for writing an exposé for Talkabout Magazine.’ No matter how casual she tried to be about what had happened only a few hours earlier, her face still burned with shame of it.

‘Rubbish! Anyone with half a brain would know you didn’t write that article, and since no one in the London Coven knows who you are – well almost no one – then I can’t believe you’d be privy to any special secrets.’

‘Like what?’

Her mother raised a well arched eyebrow. ‘Have you not read the article?’

Rita shook her head. ‘I’ve only heard the choice bits that Vivienne took great pleasure in regaling the High Council with.’ As an after thought, she asked, ‘Who there knows who I am?’

Her mother ignored the question.

‘Mama? I know that look. What are you up to?’

Suddenly the woman was rummaging through her briefcase again until she extricated from the detritus the offending copy of Talkabout, which she shook triumphantly at her daughter. ‘Rita, darling, you just leave this to me. When I get through with Vivienne, I promise you, she’ll regret the day she messed with my daughter.’

‘No, mama! There you go again interfering. It’s always been this way. I get a B in Latin, my mother sorts the teacher out and I end up with an A. I don’t get the job I apply for, my mother comes and buys the position for me.’

‘You earned that A, and you know it. Your Latin was better than the teacher’s. And it was hardly necessary to buy you the position when I owned the company.’ She gave a shrug that made her look like she was wearing heavy shoulder pads. ‘Technically that means that you owned the company, right?’

‘That’s not the point. I left because I wanted to fight my own battles, and sometimes that means losing.’

Her mother studied her for a long moment then took a deep breath. ‘Do you want to lose this battle?’

‘No! Of course I don’t. I loved my experience of The Mount. I guess I only realised how much after I’d lost it, but I love Leo and Morgan and Alex and Aurora, and I –’

‘And you especially love Edward, yes I know my darling.’ Once again she gave her daughter the long hard stare. Then she looked down at the magazine in her hand and cocked her head. ‘If you don’t want to lose this battle, then you’ll have to let me tutor you a little bit in coven law. That wouldn’t be considered interfering, would it?’

Suddenly Rita’s heart was in her throat. ‘You’d do that?’

‘It’s the only way you’ll be able to take on Vivienne head to head. But before that, there are three things you need to do. First, don’t under any circumstances, read the Talkabout article. Your not knowing is the key to getting you back in. Secondly, call Kate. She’s worried sick.’ She looked down at her watch. ‘And finally, get some rest. Nothing’s going to happen tonight.’

Chapter Twenty-six

Vivienne sat naked in front of the vanity while Lorelei bent over her, careful not to obscure her view in the mirror as she applied her mascara for her. She never dressed until every other part of her morning ritual was finished. She enjoyed being naked, and even more, she enjoyed looking at herself naked.

Vivienne was in a foul mood. Whatever happened between her and Edward after Rita Holly’s banishment must have been ugly. It was the logical reason for such a mood after Vivienne’s triumph over the High Council last night. It didn’t matter that none of it was Lorelei’s fault, she just happened to be in the line of fire.

She finished the mascara and stepped back while Vivienne studied the final result with a pout. Through the mirror her gaze fell on Lorelei standing behind her, and the pout became something more threatening. ‘Are you impatient, Lorelei, darling? Do you, perhaps, have something more important to do?’

‘No. Of course not,’ Lorelei lied. ‘I have nothing that can’t wait.’ She had sacrificed a lot to be Vivienne’s confidant. She knew none of the other council members trusted her or even believed she had a right to be here, but it didn’t matter. She was close to the power, right where she’d always wanted to be. Worth the sacrifice, she thought. But now, for the first time, she was having doubts. The whole incident with Owen Frank bothered her. While he was rewarded for being an arsehole, Rita Holly was punished for doing everything right. A large part of the blame was hers. But it had always been her job to help Vivienne get what she wanted. This was no time to develop a conscience.

She quickly returned her attention to Vivienne, who was once again admiring her own reflection. With a wave of her hand, she ordered, ‘Get me the blue corset, the one with the Spanish lace.’

It was a corset she wore only for Edward. Strange how she punished him and schemed to hurt him then almost in the next breath tried to please him. When Lorelei opened the corset drawer, there, on top of the expensive bespoke finery, washed, repaired and neatly folded, was the tatty sweat suit Vivienne had worn in the alley to fuck Gavin. She had just had him fired for shagging a member. Lorelei wondered if she had fucked him in the hoodie first.

‘Would you hurry up? I’d like to get dressed sometime today if you don’t mind.’

Lorelei jumped to find Vivienne suddenly standing so close that her bare breasts nearly brushed her arm. ‘I’m sorry, but this was in the wrong drawer.’ She nodded at the sweat suit.

‘It’s not in the wrong drawer. It’s exactly where I want it.’ Vivienne released a warm breath against the back of Lorelei’s neck and whispered. ‘Be a dear. Put it on for me.’

As she unfolded the hoodie and held it out for Vivienne to slip into, Vivienne knocked it away. ‘Not me, you stupid cow. You. Go on. I want to see you in it.’

While Vivienne watched, Lorelei stripped, trying to ignore the twinge of guilt that came from something so silly as putting on clothes that reminded her of Rita Holly. At last, she stood in nothing but her underwear, feeling as though the moment she put on the sweat suit Rita would somehow know it was her who had betrayed her – under Vivienne’s orders, she reminded herself.

Vivienne gave her a smack to the back of the head. ‘Take off the bra and panties too. It won’t look right if you don’t.’

Lorelei swallowed her irritation and did as she was told. And when she was completely naked, she slid into the trainer bottoms and hoodie trying not to think about what they represented. From somewhere, Vivienne produced the hideous pink flip-flop shoes. ‘And these. Put these on.’

They were too big for her, but Lorelei put them on and offered a weak smile, which was rewarded with a slap across the face. She yelped, from the shock more than the pain, but Vivienne grabbed her by the hair and pulled her close. ‘She would never smile at me, would she?’

Glaring at Vivienne was such an unusually honest sensation that for a second Lorelei felt a flood of relief. But it was short-lived. Vivienne jerked down the zipper of the hoodie and grabbed her breasts, squeezing and kneading, pinching her nipples, shoving her backward with every pinch. ‘You stupid little slut,’ she breathed, ‘I warned you that Edward would never be yours, didn’t I?’ There was another resounding slap, this time across Lorelei’s breasts. Lorelei stumbled backward and her left foot slipped out of the loose-fitting flip-flop.

She barely caught her balance before Vivienne grabbed her face and kissed her as though she were trying to climb right inside her, tongue first, pushing her back until she was in danger of falling onto the bed behind her. ‘I told you. He’s mine. He never really wanted you. He just likes easy sluts. And you were the easiest, the way you flaunt your bouncy tits with your nipples all pointy and hard.’ She shoved a hand inside the sweat bottoms and jammed a finger into Lorelei’s pussy, making her jump. ‘You’re always slippery, always pouting, like a bitch on heat.’

She kissed her once more, even harder, and bit her lip as she came up gasping. ‘Fight back, damn it! She would. You know she would.’ She slapped Lorelei again, hard enough to make her ears ring, hard enough to ignite the explosion that was long overdue.

‘You vile bitch!’ The words burst from Lorelei’s throat with more ease, and much more pleasure, than she would have thought possible. She stepped aside and shoved Vivienne face-first on to the bed, then wedged her arm behind her back none too gently. ‘You may own Edward, but you don’t own me.’ She picked up the flip-flop that had fallen off her foot and brought it down with a hard thwack against Vivienne’s bare bottom.

Vivienne yelped and bucked on the bed uttering muffled curses into the mattress, but Lorelei held her fast as she brought the shoe down again and again, until Vivienne’s lovely bottom was bright pink. She uttered a chesty moan as she squirmed, and Lorelei got an exquisite view of her swollen pussy, pouting open, begging wet.

With a surge of power that went straight to her own pussy, Lorelei smacked her bottom again then jammed two rough fingers inside her pout and began to scissor. ‘Sooner or later when you fuck with people, they’re gonna fuck back.’ Lorelei found herself doing a poor imitation of Rita’s American accent. She leaned over and whispered into Vivienne’s ear, ‘You fucked with me, you bitch, now I’m gonna return the favour.’ She rammed a third finger into Vivienne’s cunt and Vivienne nearly bounced them both off the bed as her first orgasm hit. Bloody hell! How many times had Lorelei seen Vivienne come – even made Vivienne come, but she’d never seen the woman like this. She pulled her fingers out and licked them, making Vivienne watch.

Still quivering all over, Vivienne lifted her bottom higher, opening her legs until the pillowed slick swell of her trembled like an invitation.

‘You want your hole filled, don’t you?’ Lorelei chuckled. ‘It would be my pleasure.’ She grabbed up her panties from the floor and bound Vivienne’s hands behind her back. Then she left her, writhing bottom up, while she rummaged through the drawer of the bedside table for her strap-on. The crotch of the sweat bottoms was already wet and slippery. She’d always heard that power was an aphrodisiac, but she hadn’t imagined it would be anything this hot.

She made Vivienne watch while she stroked the damp pout of her lips through the crotch of the sweats. That alone would have been enough to make her come, but she had better things in mind. She stepped out of the bottoms and slipped into the strap-on. Once it was secure, she manhandled Vivienne onto her knees in front of her cock. ‘Suck me, bitch, suck me the way you did Edward that first night in front of the council.’ She grabbed her by the hair and forced her lips toward the cock. With a little whine so out of character for the head of the High Council, Vivienne did as she was told, leaving bright smears of expensive lippy all along the length of the shaft.

Vivienne deep-throated the strap-on like it was the tastiest cock she’d ever had, and Lorelei’s pussy got even slicker at the sight. With each thrust of the strap-on, she clenched her pussy muscles, and the harder she clenched, the deeper Vivienne took her in. ‘Please,’ Vivienne gasped, when she came up for air. ‘Please, Rita, put it in me. I need it in me.’

It was a bit unsettling to be called Rita, but Lorelei had done her fair share of role playing, like everyone else at The Mount. And in some small twisted way, she felt she was making up for some of what she had done to Rita. She chuckled. ‘Certainly. You are head of the High Council after all. I hear and obey.’ She looked around the room and saw that the dressing table was just about the right height. She shoved make-up bag, perfume bottles, brushes, and curling iron off onto the floor with a loud crash, then pushed Vivienne over the top of the table until her bare bottom was at exactly the right height. With one knee, she shoved her legs apart until her snatch pouted like an open mouth begging to be satisfied. Vivienne ground her pubis against the table and her desperate whimpers sounded more animal than human.

But she deserved to suffer. Lorelei slapped each of her arse cheeks in turn with the stiff cock, then brought it up between her legs and slapped her begging pussy until Vivienne was in a frenzy, her cunt gripping and grasping blindly for the cock each time it slapped her. Her whimpers became sobs of frustration as Lorelei teased her lips open with the tip of the cock just enough to hint at how good it would feel buried deep in her pussy. ‘Please,’ Vivienne begged. ‘Please, Rita, don’t torture me so. I can’t stand it. Please put it in me.’

‘Oh I’ll put it in you, you bitch. I’ll put it in you like you’ve never had it.’ With her hand, Lorelei gave the strap-on an extra coating of her own saliva, then bending quickly, she spat against Vivienne’s anus, and before there was time for protests, Lorelei spread the woman’s tender buttocks like two halves of a peach and shoved the cock into the pulsing O of her pucker.

The scream that ripped at Vivienne’s throat, was pain and pleasure well balanced, and Lorelei grabbed her hips to keep from being catapulted across the room by the aftershock of another orgasm. The force of Vivienne grinding back against her made her come too and they both shuddered together until at last Vivienne collapsed over the dressing table with a sigh.

Lorelei spoke next to her ear. ‘So you don’t just want to be me, you want to be fucked by me. Who knew?’ She gave her one last hard poke up the back hole with the strap-on then pulled out. ‘Consider yourself lucky, bitch. Edward has to fuck you, but I don’t.’

Lorelei felt it the minute she’d said it, the shifting of power brought on by one sentence too many. She stood back still struggling to catch her breath, but she was well aware that the racing of her heart now had nothing to do with sex.

‘Untie me.’ Vivienne’s voice was icy enough that Lorelei needed no further convincing that the game was over. She did as she was told. Vivienne stood rubbing her wrists, her gaze never leaving Lorelei. Quickly, she slipped into the kimono that lay draped over the chair of the dressing table and yanked the sash tight as though it had done something offensive. ‘Get out.’ Her voice was beyond anger. Lorelei knew the tone. Vivienne didn’t have to show anger when the punishment she was, no doubt, already devising in her head would show it so much more effectively. And as sure as night would bring darkness, Lorelei knew with a cold clench in her gut that her punishment for knowing what she shouldn’t know, for doing only what she was told would be ugly indeed.

Chapter Twenty-seven

When Rita woke it was early afternoon. She hadn’t realised just how tired she’d been. Her mother wasn’t kidding about the crash course in coven law. For two solid days they had poured over the volumes. Her room was piled with the books her mother had managed to conjure out of nowhere, one of the benefits of being head of the High Council, she had said.

At present, Coraline Martelli was nowhere to be found. But her belongings were strewn all over the front room, and for two days Kate had been bouncing off the walls with excitement over the dance lessons the woman had arranged for her to have with Alex. Yes, Coraline Martelli was definitely in town.

Rita had just got out of the shower when the doorbell rang. She slipped into her robe and found Lidia, standing shyly in front of her. The pony-tail high on the back of her head was losing the battle to contain her wispy blonde hair, and her pail goose-fleshed arms were folded protectively around her body as though she were cold. Her smile out-brightened her tired appearance

‘Ms Holly, I’m sorry to bother, but I wanted you to know that I will no longer work here after first of the month. I have cousin who works at the Ritz. She found me a better job there in the kitchen.’ The girl blushed pink to the roots of her hair. ‘I am good cook.’

‘That’s wonderful, Lidia. Good luck. We’ll miss you, but the Ritz is a nice hotel.’

‘Your boss, Mr Owen, he goes there. My cousin, she delivers room service. She says he has a suite, and there he meets some beautiful woman with a very strange name, I don’t know, maybe Loral Hie or something. You know this woman?’

Lidia suddenly had Rita’s undivided attention.

‘Mr Owen say to my cousin this Loral Hie works at The Mount. You know The Mount?’

‘Oh yes. I know The Mount. I don’t suppose Mr Owen told your cousin what he and this Loral Hie were doing there at the Ritz?’

Lidia stepped closer and glanced about to make sure no one was listening. Then she spoke in a near whisper. ‘Men like Mr Owen, they always have pretty woman, you know? He’s good-looking man, yes?

He’s a slimy bastard, Rita thought, but she smiled encouragingly at Lidia. Bless her heart, she had no idea what a big help she was being.

The woman continued. ‘My cousin says they were having, how you say, a nooner, you know?’ Lidia demonstrated by poking the index finger of her right hand in and out of the circle formed by the thumb and index finger of her other hand. ‘They have lots of nooners there at the Ritz, my cousin says. But Mr Owen, he tells my cousin that is very important business they were doing.’

Rita nodded sagely. ‘Oh very important, I have no doubt.’

She wished Lidia well, then went to the kitchen in search of coffee and something to eat. Suddenly she had an appetite. She had just buttered her toast when her mother blew in heavily laden with shopping bags.

‘You wouldn’t believe the latest news.’ She hoisted the shopping onto the already buried sofa. ‘Talkabout is in an uproar. Seems your dear Owen Frank is unavailable for comment on the controversial exposé.’ She plopped a bulging bag of pastries from the bakery around the corner down onto the table and turned up her nose at the instant coffee jar sitting on the counter. ‘At the moment, the response from The Mount is to laugh. They’re saying the whole thing is too ridiculous to even consider, and they wonder why Owen Frank would let such a story into his magazine.’ She rummaged through the cupboard until she found the mocha maker. ‘And, get this, they’re claiming never to have heard of a Rita Holly. Can you imagine?’ Her mother sighed as though she had just heard the best news ever, then she went about the business of making real coffee. ‘Rita, dear, I may just buy you your own magazine yet. You’d be great as owner of Talkabout.’

Over good Italian espresso and fresh pain au chocolat Rita told her mother about her conversation with Lidia. They were like teenagers gossiping and giggling, and Rita realised how much she had missed that since she’d left Seattle. Perhaps it if had happened more often, she wouldn’t have left home. Her mother stood to put on another pot of espresso. ‘I know I promised to let you handle this, Rita, but what I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall when Vivienne gets what’s coming to her.’

Rita wasn’t as certain as her mother. Vivienne always had an ace up her sleeve, and she couldn’t fight the niggle at the back of her mind that once again her mother had come to the rescue. ‘Mama?’

‘Yes dear.’

‘If I’m able to override Vivienne’s banishment and all is forgiven, and if I’m made a full-fledged member of The Mount, am I getting in because of you?’

Her mother plopped down in the chair next to her. ‘No one gets into The Mount because of anyone else.’ She held Rita in her intense dark gaze. ‘No matter how many generations their family has been in The Mount, each person must pass the initiation entirely on their own.’ She offered a bright smile. ‘And from what I’ve heard, you already passed the initiation with flying colours. Even Vivienne can’t fault your service to her. That’s why she had to cheat to get rid of you.’

Most of the shopping had been for Rita, and her mother knew almost as much about fashion as she did about perfume. The dress was midnight blue, off the shoulder. It slinked and clung to Rita’s curves like a second skin. In fact, it fitted like it had been made for her, and Rita figured it probably was. The jewellery was simple pearls. The dress needed nothing else. Her mother had flown her own hairdresser in to do Rita’s hair and make-up. Standing in front of the mirror gazing at the finished product, Rita had to admit, she looked stunning. ‘But how will I get in?’ She asked. ‘I’ve been banished, remember?’

Her mother affectionately smoothed a strand of her hair that didn’t really need smoothing and offered a happy sigh. ‘You’re going in through the front door, of course, like the Martelli heiress should, that is if you don’t mind condescending to use the Martelli name again. You have reservations. Rita Holly may have been banished, but Rita Martelli has not. Oh, by the way,’ she added as an afterthought, ‘you’ll be joined for drinks by the club owner.’

‘The club’s owner? I’ve been trying for weeks to find the club’s owner. Who is it?’

Her mother offered a Mona Lisa smile. ‘Rita, dear, you were looking in the wrong places. All you ever had to do was call me. I would have told you everything. But for now, let’s just make it a surprise. And remember, it’s not knowing what that bloody exposé says that’s the key to defeating Vivienne.’

Before Rita could question further, her mother’s mobile signalled a text. As she read it, the smile returned to her face. ‘Sorry about that dear, just some business I had to take care of. A foreclosure on a villa in Majorca. Seems Vivienne hasn’t been careful about who it was leased to.’ She sighed happily. ‘If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.’

Just then the doorbell rang. ‘That will be the limo, darling,’ her mother said. ‘A Martelli limo this time.’ She slipped her arm around her daughter’s waist and walked her to the door. ‘A couple of reporters saw you going into The Mount with Leo the other night and, well darling, they’re not stupid. They already suspect they’ve found the lost Martelli heiress. Cat’s almost out of the bag anyway, why not give them something to talk about?’ She gave her now speechless daughter a wink and sent her out the door.

Chapter Twenty-eight

For the second time in less than a fortnight, there was a feeling of déjà vu, as the limo pulled up in front of The Mount. Rita might be relying on the Martelli name to get her in the door, but in the end, she knew she would still be one hundred per cent reliant on plain old Rita Holly when it came to facing down Vivienne and proving her innocence.

The driver helped her out of the car. ‘Ms Martelli, shall I escort you to the door?’

Ms Martelli. Suddenly that name didn’t seem nearly so onerous to her. ‘That won’t be necessary, John. I’ll manage from here.’

There were whispers around her as she stepped on to the carpet and under the awning. She heard the Martelli name mentioned several times. Her mother was right. It was time to give them something to talk about,

The door man opened the door and as she entered, she was certain all eyes were on her. Mostly, Lorelei’s eyes were on her, her jaw dropped nearly to the desk where the reservations book lay open. Rita had never felt more proud of her heritage.

‘You have a reservation for Martelli. Rita Martelli.’

Lorelei gave several fish gasps before she regained control ‘But I thought –’

‘You thought the reservation was for my mother. A forgivable mistake.’ Rita held Lorelei’s shocked gaze. ‘I’m told I’ll be joined by the club’s owner. I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to that meeting.’

Lorelei led her back to the private dining room, the same one where she had met Edward what seemed like a hundred years ago now. There, in a booth not terribly far from the one where Edward had shown her the best way to drink champagne, Lorelei seated her. Then she stood shifting from foot to foot, in her expensive shoes, as though she were waiting for Rita’s attention.

After what she deemed an appropriate amount of time to let the woman squirm, Rita asked, ‘Is there something else?’

‘I just wanted to say...’

‘Yes?’

‘I didn’t know. Honestly I didn’t.’

Rita smiled sweetly up at the woman, who suddenly seemed to be sweating through her peach taffeta. That’s OK, Lorelei. I’m pretty sure before the night’s over you’ll have a chance to make up for it, a chance I’m thinking you’ll want to take full advantage of. Now go get the owner, would you?’

Lorelei practically ran out of the dining room.

Rita didn’t have to wait long before Aurora came to her table with a bottle of Moet et Chandon on ice and two glasses. ‘Compliments of the owner,’ she said, the corner of her mouth almost twitching with what might have been a smile. ‘He apologises for making you wait, and will be joining you very shortly.’ She poured the champagne and left.

Rita barely had time to take in the smells and sounds of the lovely dining room and to sip the delicate champagne before a familiar voice came from behind her.

‘Sorry I’m late. But I had to go back to my suite for my mask.’ Edward slid into the booth next to her and pressed a warm kiss against her lips. ‘Welcome back, my darling, back to where you belong.’

She suddenly felt light-headed as though she had just finished the whole bottle of fizz. ‘You’re the owner of The Mount?’

‘I am, well the club, at least. And thanks to you and your mother, I’ll soon be regaining the control I’ve lost.’

She felt an unpleasant tightening in her chest, as though the next breath might not be guaranteed. ‘Is that why you didn’t come with me? Because my mother made you an offer you couldn’t refuse? She said she wouldn’t interfere, she said –’

He interrupted her. ‘Your mother hasn’t told you about me, then?’

‘Told me what?’

He moved a little closer and took her hands. ‘A long time ago, I made a very foolish mistake.’ Even though she couldn’t see his face, there was no missing the tightness in his voice, the quickening of his breath. ‘I gambled away what was mine. I owned The Mount, and like you, my family has a long history with The Mount. People looked up to me because of my abilities, because of my position, then I let them down. Then I lost it all.’

‘To Vivienne?’

He nodded. ‘I was young and naïve and in love with her at the time. I thought she loved me too. I thought it was just a friendly game. I thought …’ He forced a humourless chuckle. ‘Well what I thought hardly matters now, does it?’

‘So Vivienne owns you?’ Rita breathed. ‘How can that be?’

He cleared his throat as though it would rid him of threatening emotions. ‘I lost control of The Mount and became her slave. Slaves take on the identity of their masters, so you see, effectively I don’t exist. Not as long as I’m her slave.’ As he paused for a sip of champagne, she noticed his knuckles were white around the delicate stem of the glass. ‘Nothing like that in the history of The Mount had ever happened before. The Council of Elders decided, even though, constitutionally, Vivienne’s wager was on shaky ground, to let the bet stand, to teach me a lesson. They hadn’t figured on Vivienne being such a tyrant, or on her knowing coven law well enough to capitalise on her position and maintain it.’

He raised a hand before she could respond. ‘You have to understand, if it were just Vivienne, I would have run away with you, and never looked back. You can’t imagine how badly I wanted to do just that. But everyone here suffers because of what I did. I owe them all, some of them I can never repay. And besides, you shouldn’t have to run away from your rightful heritage.’

‘So my mother orchestrated the whole thing?’

‘Your mother orchestrated our meeting. I agreed to persuade you to undergo initiation. The rest you did on your own. And when Vivienne had you banished, staying was the only way I could assure you’d be able to fight another day. Then the London Coven will finally be free of Vivienne, and I can take back what’s mine,’ he squeezed her hand and raised it to his lips, ‘hopefully all of what’s mine.’

‘And I was a part of the deal?’

‘No.’ He released her hand. ‘You weren’t.’

‘But you just said my mother used you to bring me into the fold.’

‘Oh, she did. She absolutely used me to bring you into the fold. But my falling in love with you was never a part of the deal. There are things that even someone as powerful as your mother can’t control.’

His words left her breathless, unable to speak. She hardly knew what to say. He loved her? Did he really? She’d secretly hoped, but hopes were barely more than fantasies and not to be trusted.

Into the breach of expectant silence, he tugged at his jacket and cleared his throat again, suddenly unable to meet her gaze. ‘Lorelei has gathered the High Council in the Presence Chamber. If you’re ready, I think it’s time you take your rightful place in The Mount.’ He offered her his arm and escorted her away from the table then down the hallway behind the kitchen toward the stairs, a route she felt quite familiar with now.

At the bottom, she stopped, suddenly unable to move, suddenly feeling weak all over.

Edward took her in his arms. ‘Don’t be afraid, my love. You are Rita Holly Martelli. You come from a long line of members of The Mount, longer than anyone in that room.’ He nodded to the doors. ‘And you’ve done everything right. You’ve made your family proud. You’ve made me proud. When you’ve done what has to be done in there, then this is yours to remove.’ He guided her hand to the cheek of the golden mask. ‘And what’s beneath is yours to keep, if you still want it.’

She lifted her mouth to his and kissed him, forcing words around the tight knot of emotion in her chest. ‘You know that I do. More than I’ve ever wanted anything.’

He offered her his arm, and together they pushed through the double doors into the familiar bedroom light of the Presence Chamber.

Chapter Twenty-nine

Ellen Daniels was the estate agent who gave Owen the keys to his new villa. Then she’d stayed on for drinks and dinner and sex. Lots of sex. Clearly she found him fascinating, and she was just his type. She had big tits, a pussy with a cast iron grip, and she loved to suck cock. He wasn’t into exclusivity by any means, but, with him just settling in, Ellen offered lots of hot, kinky tail, and she looked fabulous on his arm whenever he went out.

She stood before him dressed to the nines with her arm around the shoulder of a gorgeous brunette, hand resting in a slight cup against the woman’s lovely bra-less breast. ‘Owen, darling.’ Ellen’s throaty contralto always sounded like she was gagging for it. ‘This is Vicki.’ She gave the brunette’s tit a little squeeze, and he couldn’t help noticing those lovely high tits were barely covered by the tiny black dress that looked more like a nightie. ‘She wants to come with us. That is all right, isn’t it?’

One look at the chick’s straining nipples and her nicely rounded bottom was enough to convince him that the only thing better than showing up at The Club with one gorgeous woman on his arm was showing up with two gorgeous women on his arm. ‘Of course you can come, love.’

The woman shot a confused glance at Ellen, who smiled back at her reassuringly and nodded. Then she turned her attention back to Owen. ‘Vicki doesn’t speak English.’

He’d paid a fortune to get reservations for himself and Ellen at the exclusive grand opening of The Club Restaurant. He was pretty sure the place was just a Mount wannabe, but there had been rumours that Vivienne herself might show up, and he wanted to be in the right place just in case.

In her excitement at the news, Vicki gave Ellen an enthusiastic tongue kiss. When she finally came up for air, Ellen smiled apologetically at Owen. ‘Vicki’s very affectionate, and very grateful.’ While he watched, she scrunched the skirt of the brunette’s dress up until her black lace knickers were visible. ‘She has such a yummy pussy. Would you like to taste?’

She shoved aside the crotch of her friend’s panties, and the chick’s eyelids fluttered. She sucked her bottom lip and caught her breath as Ellen parted her cunt lips and slipped a finger into her distended snatch. Owen was already hard enough to strain the expensive fabric of his trousers as he watched Ellen thumb the nub of her friend’s clit, before bringing her juicy fingers to his lips for a taste.

‘Mmmmph. Good,’ he groaned, licking and slurping.

Ellen nuzzled the top of the brunette’s dress open until her dark nipples were forced upward free of the bodice. She pulled Owen, first to her own mouth for a deep-throated kiss, then she guided him down to Vicki’s peek-a-boo nipples. ‘Aren’t they nice,’ she crooned as he suckled and kneaded the brunette.

‘And look.’ She shoved him away long enough to turn Vicki around and bend her over the arm of the couch. There she pushed the dress up and slid the crumpled panties down until the chick’s nicely tanned bottom was completely exposed. ‘Her little bum hole is so nice, don’t you think?’

Owen could barely hold his wad as Ellen parted her friend’s raised buttocks and began to tongue-fuck her pulsating dark pucker.

The brunette groaned and thrust her arse back into Ellen’s face. She grunted some expletive he didn’t understand. Dirty talk he figured, and he nearly ripped out his fly in his effort to free his cock. Desperate for relief, he fingered and poked until he had spread the brunette’s slippery pout. With such a raging hard-on he could hardly walk let alone make it to The Club. That was all right. They’d show up fashionably late and well fucked, the way he figured most wealthy people did. As he shoved into Vicki’s tight snatch, Ellen hopped on to the leather couch, mindless of her stilettos, and positioned herself over Vicki’s mouth, pulling aside her own thong for a good pussy licking.

Owen wondered if it got any better than this, fucking one chick senseless while she ate another chick’s sopping pussy. Just a quickie before dinner, then, after an expensive meal, eaten while being seen and admired at The Club, the three of them would continue the party here at his villa. Unless Vivienne had better plans for him. That thought, along with the brunette’s tightly gripping pussy, was enough to make him jizz.

Owen felt nauseated as the restaurant manager handed him back his bank card. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Frank, but the charge has been declined.’

The meal they had just eaten would have set him back a month’s salary at Talkabout. He forced a smile, trying to remain calm, trying to keep the expensive dinner from coming back up. ‘There has to be a mistake. Try again.’

The manager shook his head. ‘I’ve tried it three times, sir.’

‘Then try a fourth time’ Owen growled. ‘I know how much I have in my account. What’s the matter with you stupid people?’

Out of nowhere, a very large man in charcoal suit moved to stand protectively next to the manager. People at the tables around them began to whisper among themselves. Ellen heaved a busty sigh and produced a credit card from her bag. The manager studied it for a moment, then looked up at her wide-eyed. ‘You work for Coraline Martelli?’

She nodded to Vicki. ‘We both do. And we’ll take care of the bill.’

‘But I thought you were an estate agent.’ Owen sputtered.

‘I am if Ms Martelli wants me to be.’ She ran a finger down the side of his sweating face. ‘You don’t look well, Owen, darling. But at least you’ve been well fucked tonight, and I can’t think of anyone more deserving. Now why don’t you go on home and take some rest.’

Confusion and panic rose at the back of his throat. Normally he would feel good about being on the radar of someone as important as Coraline Martelli, instead, he felt like he’d just swallowed a fish bone.

The drive home seemed interminable. How could a night that started out so well end up so shit? The closer he got to home, the tighter the knot in his stomach got. He thought of Lorelei’s warning, but he’d done nothing wrong. He’d kept every rule. The whole incident with his bank card had to be some mistake. He’d iron it all out in the morning. He reminded himself things always looked better in daylight. Then he saw the heavy chain and padlock across the gate to his villa with the two uniformed men standing in front, and he knew this time that wouldn’t be the case.

‘Owen Frank?’ The bigger of the two spoke with a heavy Spanish accent.

‘Yes?’

‘We are to escort you to pack your belongings. You are trespassing on Martelli property.’

The nausea returned with a vengeance and, for a second, he thought he’d either throw up or pass out. Instead, he choked out his protest. ‘There has to be a mistake. The place was leased to me. How can it belong to Coraline Martelli?’

‘Oh, it doesn’t belong to Coraline Martelli any more. She has deeded it over as a gift to her daughter.’

‘Her daughter?’

‘That’s right. She says you know her daughter.’

‘How the hell would I know her daughter?’

The big man unlocked the padlock and stepped aside for Owen to enter. ‘Rita Holly Martelli?’ He shrugged. ‘Strange, Ms Martelli said that you would understand.’

Chapter Thirty

There was no denying the stirring and fluttering of expensive clothing on the dais as Rita entered the Presence Chamber on Edward’s arm. Only Vivienne sat as still and pale as the bas relief of Venus in the library.

‘What’s the meaning of this?’ Vivienne’s voice was barely controlled anger.

Rita stepped forward with more confidence than she would have thought possible. ‘I petition the High Council of The Mount, London Coven, to reconsider my initiation and my acceptance into said coven and to hear my defence in the case raised against me.’

‘I second the petition,’ Leo spoke up.

‘And I,’ Aurora added. She still wore her waitress uniform, and so tight was the tension in the room that she looked as though she were about to catapult from her seat.

‘This is ludicrous,’ Vivienne snapped. ‘Get her out of here, and stop wasting my time.’

‘She has the right to defend herself, Vivienne,’ Morgan spoke up. ‘You know the law.’

Vivienne adjusted herself on her chair like a queen on her throne and forced a chuckle. ‘All right then. If you all insist on humouring her, who am I to disagree.’ She scrutinised Rita with a disdainful eye. ‘At least she had the decency to dress for the occasion this time. Which of you put up the money for her little dress?’ Vivienne’s scorching gaze moved from Rita over to Edward. ‘I can’t imagine how she got in.’

‘She came in through the front door,’ Aurora said. ‘She had a reservation.’

‘Is this true?’ Vivienne turned her attention to Lorelei.’

Lorelei nodded.

‘You gave her a reservation?’

‘I did.’

There was ice in Vivienne’s voice. ‘We’ll discuss this later.’ She turned her attention to Edward. ‘Come take your place.’ She patted the seat next to her. ‘Let’s get this little charade over with.’

Edward didn’t move. ‘This is my place, Vivienne. This is where I belong.’

There was a collective shifting among the High Council. Even from where Rita stood, she could see the colour rise along Vivienne’s cheek bones. If this didn’t end tonight, she had no doubt Edward would pay dearly for his insolence.

Edward turned to Leo and nodded.

The Zoo Keeper pulled a copy of Talkabout from inside his jacket and opened it to the offending exposé. When he spoke, he sounded unusually formal. ‘Ms Holly, could you please tell the council what is involved in the Crossing Over ceremony?’

Rita shrugged. ‘When someone dies, they’re said to cross over to the other side. I don’t know. What does that have to do with the initiation?’

There was a murmuring among the High Council. Leo raised his hand to silence everyone. ‘What about the Blessing of Five?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘The Making of the History?’

‘No idea.’

Leo frowned down at the magazine open in his hands. ‘And yet is your name on this article, the article which explains all of these secret parts of the final initiation rite.’

‘Oh for heaven sake,’ Vivienne exploded. ‘Can’t you see she’s lying? Of course she’s going to tell you she knows nothing about it. What else is she going to say? She’s a journalist, in case you’ve forgotten.’

‘That’s right. I am a journalist, and I’m a good one.’ Rita took another step forward. ‘One who would never write a story without backing it up with her sources, one who would never leave important questions unanswered. For instance, perhaps you could tell us why Lorelei was meeting secretly with the editor of Talkabout at the Ritz?’

Vivienne spoke as though she were humouring an impertinent child. ‘First of all, girl, I don’t answer to you. Second, I don’t keep track of what Lorelei does on her own time.’

‘Perhaps, in the interest of good journalism, I should ask Lorelei then.’

All pretence of tolerance vanished. Vivienne stood and stomped her foot. ‘I already told you, I don’t answer to you, and neither do my people. Who do you think you are waltzing in here taking control? Guards, get this woman out of my sight,’ she yelled.

But as the guards approached, Edward raised a hand, and they both stopped in their tracks. ‘Who does she think she is, indeed.’ He took a step forward and laced his arm through Rita’s. ‘Shall I tell you who she is, Vivienne? She is Rita Holly Martelli, and she has as much right to be here as you do. More actually.’

The colour drained from Vivienne’s face, and she swayed, grabbing the arm of her chair before she collected herself and squared her shoulders. ‘I don’t care if she’s God. Her own mother would agree with me that she’s betrayed The Mount and is not worthy to be a part of it.’

‘My mother, and everyone in this room, knows I didn’t write that tosh. But we all have a pretty good idea of who did. One person here knows for certain who wrote it, two actually, isn’t that right, Lorelei?’

It was as Rita suspected, the Martelli name held a powerful sway over the woman’s shifting loyalties. Lorelei nodded. ‘I know. Yes.’ She looked at Vivienne.

‘I said get her out of here,’ Vivienne shouted to the guards.

They didn’t move. No one moved. No one breathed. At last Edward spoke. ‘All those who are convinced that the initiation of Rita Holly has come to a successful conclusion and that she is worthy of membership into The Mount, London Coven, please stand up now.’

Lorelei was the first to stand, followed quickly by everyone else except Vivienne, who dropped into her chair as though her strength were gone.

Edward took Rita’s hand and led her onto the dais. ‘Members of The Mount, London Coven, may I present to you Rita Ellison Holly Martelli, our new companion in freedom.’

Instead of waiting for each member to come forward and welcome her, as was tradition, Rita moved to stand in front of Vivienne. There was a collective gasp among the High Council, and Edward grabbed her arm, but she gently shrugged him off.

‘Vivienne Arlington Page, your life is mine to do with as I choose.’

The council gasp became a shocked murmur, which Rita ignored.

‘It’s within my power to banish you without any coven support and leave you to survive in the world as you’ve not had to do since you were accepted into The Mount.’ She nodded at the look of surprise on Vivienne’s face. ‘Yes, my mother tutored me well on coven law, and I’m a fast learner.’

The murmur died away and the room was swathed in wire-tight silence.

Rita continued. ‘Coven law states that your position is forfeit to the one you’ve wronged. I think it’s safe to say that includes just about everyone in this room, no one more so than Edward.’ She turned to face the council. ‘As in accordance with the law, who among you wishes to take up this woman’s position and fulfil the duties she has forfeited?’

The silence in the room felt like a tightly held breath. At last Leo took a step forward and spoke. ‘Is as you have stated, Vivienne Arlington Page now belongs to you. Since it is you who have broken her power, then I say that it is to you her power and position should go.’

Around the room, there were nods of agreement. Leo continued. ‘Are there any who would object to this?’

No one did.

In spite of her fantasies about this moment, the sudden urge to run from such responsibility was visceral, but Rita squared her shoulders, swallowed the fear and was amazed by the steadiness of her own voice. ‘If this is the decision of the council, then I will abide by it. I take my rightful place as head of the High Council and reinstate the three year rotation of that position of power.’

She turned her attention back to Vivienne, who slumped in her chair, gaze locked on the floor. ‘I have no wish for revenge upon you, Vivienne, so I offer you a choice. You may take the punishment I deem suitable for your actions, then serve as my slave until I see fit to release you. If this is unacceptable to you, then you may be banished from The Mount for ever. I leave you the choice.’

Again there was the collective gasp, and from no one louder than Vivienne. ‘I don’t understand,’ she breathed.

‘It’s simple. I don’t want your job as manager of The Mount Club. You do it well and you have a presence. I have other interests. If you choose to take my offer, you’ll stay in your apartments, doing your job, serving me.’

Rita ignored the murmurs on the dais. ‘If you serve me well, I’ll treat you with the respect any member of The Mount deserves, and I’ll give you the right to earn your freedom. But if you cross me, even once, my mother tells me there’s a zookeeper in the Argentine Coven who would love to have you for a pet. I hear she’s not nearly so gentle as our Leo.’ She reached out her hand to Vivienne.

The whole council seemed frozen in time, silent, breathless, waiting. Then, with a sigh and a whisper of silk, Vivienne slid from the chair on to her knees and pressed Rita’s hand to her lips. ‘Do with me what you will, Mistress.’

Barely aware of the surprised mumblings on the dais, Rita helped her to her feet and motioned for Aurora. ‘Slaves don’t wear such finery.’

Morgan came to Aurora’s aid. They removed jewellery, gown, sexy lingerie, everything, until Vivienne stood in her stunning nakedness, too exquisite for Rita to resist. The woman’s eyelids fluttered, and a serrated gasp escaped her throat as Rita brushed her breasts with her fingertips. Her nipples were instantly erect.

‘You like that?’ Rita hoped she didn’t sound as surprised as she felt.

‘Yes, Mistress.’ Vivienne’s response was breathless, her words clipped. ‘I like it a lot.’ Without clothes it was easy to see the tensing muscles in Vivienne’s tummy and the subtle rocking of her hips.

How could Rita’s touch be that exciting to one who hated her so badly? Cautiously Rita leaned close and kissed her. Vivienne’s mouth was responsive, lips parted, tongue welcoming. Her breath grew heavier as the kiss deepened. Rita caressed the slender waist and the swell of her bottom, until now an act done only in her fantasies.

‘Please, Mistress,’ Vivienne breathed.

Arousal overcame shock as Rita insinuated her hand between Vivienne’s thighs, pressing her middle finger against surprisingly slippery folds to thrust upward. The sense of power was almost as arousing as the hot grip of pussy. Vivienne shuddered at her penetration and uttered a kitten-like cry.

She shifted and rocked, and her whole body grew tight as Rita thumbed hard-pressed circles around her new slave’s distended clit. With two, then three, fingers, she thrust and scissored the sucking grasp of her cunt. Vivienne went feral, humping her hand, gabbling and grunting like some sex-crazed pet from Leo’s zoo.

Rita felt her own pussy tremble in empathy. ‘Is this what you wanted?’

Vivienne managed only a nod before she shuddered so violently that she fell back into the chair, writhing and gasping, gathering herself into a convulsing foetal hug while the council watched in shock.

When, at last, Vivienne’s orgasm had eased to little quivers, Rita found her voice. ‘If you wanted me to make you come, all you had to do was ask. You had complete control over me.’ She helped her to her feet. ‘And now I have control over you.’ Holding Vivienne in a hard gaze, Rita motioned for the guards. ‘Take my slave to the dungeon. Let her think about her bad behaviour and anticipate her punishment. I’ll attend to her personally, but first,’ she turned to Edward. ‘I have a more urgent matter.

Chapter Thirty-one

As the High Council watched, Aurora helped Vivienne into a slave shift, then the guards led her away to the dungeon. Even in the clothing of a slave, Vivienne still looked like the queen of the universe. No doubt she knew better than most how much worse it could have been for her. Rita didn’t want her broken, she just wanted her a little more submissive, and she was looking forward to teaching her all about submission.

When the doors closed behind Vivienne, Rita pulled Edward into a blood-boiling kiss that left him gasping for oxygen. ‘If there are no further objections,’ she addressed the council, ‘then I want what’s been promised me.’

There was a mutual nodding of heads, and Leo stepped forward. ‘What has been promised you, you have rightfully earned. The ritual is prepared.’

Edward offered her a pussy-creaming smile and caressed her breasts through the clingy fabric of her gown. ‘Expensive dress?’

She chuckled softly and cupped his hands tighter to her. ‘Very. Will you have Aurora cut it off me?’

He traced the swell of her nipples with his thumbs, then dropped a humid kiss onto each one. ‘I think we might manage without that this time.’ He nodded to Alex, who moved behind her, sending shivers up her spine as he nibbled her nape. Then he unzipped her dress and slipped it off her shoulders, lingering to slide his hands over her exposed breasts.

Morgan and Leo moved forward to support her while she stepped out of the gown. Then Edward knelt in front of her and undid her stockings from blue lace suspenders, placing a kiss high on the inside of each thigh, nuzzling in close until she could feel the hard edge of his mask and the heat of his breath against the damp crotch of her panties.

Aurora and Lorelei knelt on either side and removed her stilettos and stockings. The delicious sensation of tongue and teeth on her instep generated tremors that snaked up her legs straight to her pussy. As Aurora began to nibble and suck her toes, she squirmed with such pleasure that Morgan and Leo’s support became essential.

While Aurora fellated Rita’s toes, Lorelei nipped and licked the muscular bulge of her calf blazing a trail up the back of her thigh ever closer to the tightening muscles of her bottom. Meanwhile, Alex made his approach from the north, teasing and nipping his way down her spine to the small of her back.

As Edward removed her garter belt and eased down her panties, Morgan and Leo tongue-bathed her arms and shoulders, working their way over the ticklish flesh of her arm pits to the outer swell of her breasts where they lingered to caress and suckle. Every sensation was stronger than the last culminating in Edward flicking his tongue in ravenous slurps over the tip of her heavy clitoris straining at the apex of her cunt.

Then, just when she was about to come, he stood and moved aside for Leo, who took her mouth with none of the reserve he had shown toward her when she was his pet. He slid his hand between her legs to stroke her slippery pout with his palm. His voice vibrated next to her ear. ‘Rita Ellison Holly Martelli, You are now changed.’

She struggled to concentrate on his words and not the pleasure his hand generated against her thrumming cunt.

He continued. ‘You are no longer as you were, and who you have become is one made new. You now belong to us and we to you. You have crossed over to this family who have claimed you as their own.’

Without losing the rhythm of his stroking, he turned his attention to Edward. ‘This woman takes upon herself your name. Is therefore you who must guide her across.’ As he stepped away, Edward lifted her into his arms and carried her down another flight of stairs hidden behind the dais. The others followed. At the bottom, they entered a round stone chamber lit with sconced candles. It smelled strongly of herbs and old candle wax. There, in the middle, Edward lowered her onto a large stone slab unadorned and unhewn. The others moved to circle her rocky bed.

From somewhere, Lorelei produced a vial of oil that smelled of evergreen and sage and placed a drop of it on her forehead. ‘I anoint your head that you might always act wisely as you sojourn in The Mount.’

She bent and gave Rita a lingering kiss as she handed the oil to Alex, who continued the ritual. ‘I anoint your heart that compassion might always imbue your actions.’ Once done, his straying hands and mouth detoured from her heart to her breasts, while Lorelei continued her explorations of her willing mouth.

Aurora was saying something about anointing her womb and her becoming a creative force in The Mount, but it was hard to concentrate when the enforcer’s palm was curled over Rita’s pubis with her middle finger circling and stroking the node of her clit.

Morgan anointed her knees, something about humility in all she did, but it wasn’t her knees he was kissing. Instead, he was working his way up the inside of her thighs.

When the vial was finally passed to Leo, Rita was so lost in the physicality of the High Council’s blessing that she feared she might come and ruin their lovely ceremony.

‘I anoint your feet,’ Leo was saying, ‘that you may never stray from the path you have chosen.’ As he bathed her ankle and heels with his tongue, she was beginning to hope they’d just keep on anointing, at least until she came.

From her aroused haze, she could see Edward standing at her feet, his golden mask shimmering in the candle light. He spoke. ‘This is the history of Rita Ellison Holly Martelli, fledgling member of The Mount, London Coven nominated for initiation by Edward Darcy Ellison.

Alex pulled away from her breasts and spoke. ‘A worthy dance partner and one loyal from the beginning.’

‘Punished for disobedience by me,’ Aurora pulled away and took over the history.

And it went on and on, with each council member droning through the whole history of her time at The Mount, which seemed pretty silly considering that it couldn’t have been more than a few weeks. Besides, she already knew her history, and she was horny and desperate to get to Edward.

‘I know of no one who wore the cat suit better,’ Morgan was saying.

She was just about to voice her impatience when Edward moved to stroke her pubic curls and caress her folds. ‘Hold on just a little longer, darling.’ His voice was tight, and he seemed to be struggling to breathe. ‘I know how badly you need to come. We both do, but it’ll be so worth it, just like I promised.

Everything seemed haloed in golden light and her whole body buzzed not unlike it had the night she was chained to the Harley. For a second she drifted away, lost in the drone of her own history and Edward’s yummy caresses.

‘We now offer up the gift that was promised,’ Leo was saying. Suddenly the world was back in sharp focus. From his pocket, the Zoo Keeper took a silver key on a chain and placed it around her neck.

Aurora and Alex helped her to sit. ‘Take what’s rightfully yours.’ Aurora nodded to Edward.

With her body still thrumming, Rita rose on her knees and moved toward the man who had inhabited all her fantasies since that first night on the Eurostar. Her heart raced in her chest. Her hands trembled.

Edward caressed her neck and bent to kiss the spot where her pulse hammered against her throat, as though by doing so he might calm its shuddering. Then he straightened and searched her face. ‘I’m yours, Rita Holly, body and soul. Let what has been promised be fulfilled.’

Holding her breath, she reached behind his head, and with unsteady fingers, untied the black velvet ribbon that held the mask in place, then she carefully pulled it away.

There was a collective sigh of approval from the council.

It was neither the face of a monster nor of an angel she uncovered. Edward unmasked was rough-edged and completely lacking that expensive pretty-boy patina that Rita assumed would have appealed to Vivienne. His cheekbones were high and well defined. His nose was slightly crooked, as though it might have been broken at one time. Just above his left temple a thin white scar skirted his eye and stopped at the rise of his cheekbone. It was a small imperfection that made him look like he was not someone to be trifled with. That thought made her insides quiver with anticipation.

It was then she noticed the tight line of his lips, the slight wrinkling of his high forehead. ‘Well?’ he said.

She offered him a smile and a hiccup of a laugh. ‘You’ll do, Edward Ellison. You’ll do.’

He pulled her into a hard embrace, forcing the breath from her. ‘I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear that.’ The words were smothered against her shoulder.

She could have stayed there for ever, laced in his arms, but Edward extricated himself and stepped back, giving the others room to unzip and unbutton and kiss and caress until he stood before her in only his boxers. Aurora knelt to slip them over his hips, lingering long enough to tongue his navel and the light path of auburn hair trailing down to his penis. To that, she had no access. It was firmly caged in the confinement of Vivienne’s chastity belt.

Before Rita could voice her protest, Edward nodded to the silver key hanging around her neck. ‘I’m yours now, darling. My face is not all you have access to.’

‘It’s like Christmas.’ Morgan offered a wet sigh that sounded nothing like it came from a man who rode a Hog. ‘Go on, luv. Open it.’

‘We haven’t had a new member in a while,’ Aurora added.

Rita took the key from around her neck, careful not to drop it in the mix of nerves and arousal coursing through her body. Edward joined her on the altar slab, straddling her on his knees, presenting the metal prison of the chastity belt before her. Then he took her hand and guided the key to the lock.

The whole council held its breath in anticipation, as the key turned. With a chink of metal, the belt opened, and Edward gasped almost painfully as his penis sprang free from its bonds and immediately into Rita’s waiting hand. She nearly lost patience as Lorelei and Leo removed the belt from around Edward’s waist. She’d waited so damned long for this. When they were done, she threw the key as far as she could. It landed with a metallic clink in a dark corner.

Once freed from his prison, Edward sprang like a leopard, pushing her back onto the slab and shoving her legs open with his knees. With very little manoeuvring, he pushed into her with a grunt that ended in a sharp gasp as she tightened her grip around him, tightened it as though she would never let him go, and in truth, now that she finally had him, she didn’t plan to. With each driving thrust, he raked her clit with his pubic bone, making it raw and demanding. She wrapped her legs around him and arched upward to meet him, not wanting to linger, not wanting to make it last, just wanting relief from the long wait.

He curled his fingers in her hair and pulled her closer, his breath coming in great gasps. ‘The ceremony’s officially over when we come, then everyone else can come, and we can leave,’ he panted. ‘Then I can have you all to myself.’ The tension that made his whole body feel like tight, warm leather drew her to the brink right next to him, growling and pushing and bearing down. Each thrust built upon the one before, engulfing Rita in the same altered state she had experienced on the Harley only magnified by the emotions that raged through her.

When her orgasm came, she howled like an untamed pet in Leo’s zoo, like the scream of the Harley under Morgan’s expert control. With one last thrust, Edward exploded inside her, grunting and shuddering, holding her to him so tightly that she feared he might break her, as he emptied himself in her. ‘I love you, Rita Holly,’ he gasped as he collapsed on top of her. ‘And now I have you right where you belong.’

Then the room erupted in frenetic sex. Morgan and Leo were both on their knees between Lorelei’s legs, one in front, one behind, their tongues at work on both her holes. But it felt like they were doing it to Rita. As she watched, her pussy clenched around Edward’s penis, still erect inside her. Strangely, she also felt what Leo and Morgan were feeling too, balls heavy, cocks arching toward receptive orifices.

‘Do you understand now?’ Edward began to thrust again as they caught a glimpse of Alex slipping his thick cock into Aurora’s swollen pout. The enforcer had shed her waitress uniform down to her fishnet stockings and suspenders. Alex had forced her pert breasts upward out of the leather bra to suck and bite her nipples until they looked like maraschino cherries on mounds of pale ice cream.

‘It feels like me.’ Rita choked on the emotion of the words. ‘Like I’m doing it, like I’m feeling it all.’

‘Like all of us, like we’re all feeling it,’ Edward replied. And suddenly it was as though everyone had piled onto the stone altar next to them.

Flesh pounded flesh. The smells of candle wax and herbs were subsumed in the smells of hot, urgent fucking. Whimpers and thrusts and growls crescendoed to a group orgasm that rocked the chamber, which suddenly felt big enough to contain the whole universe. Then it shrank back around them, shrank until it felt like a womb about to give birth. Indeed, it was about to give birth to Rita Ellison Holly Martelli, who saw herself for the first time through the eyes of her new family. It was a family she was proud to be a part of, a family she was very much looking forward to getting to know better.

Fulfilling the Contract

Chapter One

Letting his cock do the thinking was never advised, Nick Chase thought as he pulled Tanya – what was her last name? Something Slavic – through the back door of the bar and into the desert swelter in the alley, kissing and groping as he went.

‘Fuck me here,’ she gasped, managing for a split second to take her delicious tongue out of his mouth. ‘Is sexy here, outside. You have the condom, no?’

‘No, I mean yes, I have a condom, but I’m not having sex with you in the alley.’ He grabbed her hand and pulled her around the end of the building. ‘My car’s over here.’ He nodded to the black Lincoln Town Car parked in the shadow of the building.

‘You drive limo?’ she asked. Did he imagine the disappointment in her voice?

‘I own a limo – several, in fact,’ he corrected. What the hell, was he bragging to get laid? How adolescent was that? Was he really that desperate? Forget desperate. It was compensation he was after. The night had gone straight down the crapper early on, and he deserved something nice to make up for it.

His last fare had had a heart attack in the back of his limo while banging a woman half his age. OK, people using his limo for sex was something he didn’t get his boxers in a knot over. This was Vegas. But heart attacks, even minor ones, those were boxer-knotting experiences, experiences that didn’t do his heart a lot of good either! The woman who caused the man’s meltdown had bailed at the first stoplight like they were in some shoot-’em-up film. It might have been funny if she hadn’t left Nick to rush Casanova to the emergency room. There he’d waited until the angry wife arrived several hours – and what would have been several good fares – later. He figured a minor heart attack was nothing compared to what the man would get from his wife when she got him home. Nick didn’t mind being a good Samaritan, but when a man twice his age and three times his weight got a good hard riding in the back of his limo, while he was reduced to slapping the sausage when he actually had time to be horny, it was hard to be sympathetic.

If that wasn’t bad enough, he left the hospital to find that his limo had been towed. By the time he’d found out where it was, paid a taxi to get him there, and paid the fine to release it, he was pissed off, tired, and $300 poorer for his night’s efforts. Feeling pretty damned sorry for himself, he’d stopped at the Mango for a much-needed drink. He couldn’t actually drink anything stronger than a Coke and drive on home, but home was a fair ways yet and, at least, some caffeine was in order. That’s where he met Tanya. She was a busty blonde with eyes the colour of toffee and a sexy Slavic accent that stirred him right in the crotch area. She sat down on the stool next to him, offering him a kick-ass smile as she ordered a Cosmopolitan. At first, he wondered if she were a hooker. But when she ignored the attentions of the guy on the other side of her and politely hinted that she wasn’t interested, Nick figured she was just a tourist who either got lost or adventurous. And when the man wouldn’t take the hint, it was Mr Good Samaritan to the rescue again.

‘Hey buddy, she’s with me.’ Nick offered a don’t-want-any-trouble sort of smile, to which the guy lifted his hands in response, mumbled an apology and took his beer over to the slot machines.

Three Cokes, a couple of strong coffees, and several Cosmos later, and Nick had forgotten all about his ambulance run. In fact, he’d forgotten all about everything except Tanya. He’d like to say it was her accent, or the fact that she was a good conversationalist, and both were true. But honestly, it was Tanya’s well-displayed cleavage that had his full attention.

‘If you want a real drink,’ she said, ‘is no problem. ‘You order it. I will take it in my mouth, swish it all around. And then I will kiss it into your mouth. Like this.’ She demonstrated with a mouthful of Cosmo and a cranberry-flavoured lip-lock that had his cock hard-pressed in his jeans. She came up smacking her lips. ‘And that way you will get the flavour and I will get the alcohol.’

‘Tanya, I could do that all night, but I think your science is flawed. I’d be both drunk and horny and I’d have to call a taxi to get both of us home.’

‘Is true. I swear,’ she said. Then she offered him a wicked smile. ‘As for the horny part – well, is a side-effect of the procedure, I’m afraid.’

That was when he dive-bombed her mouth with his, coming up breathless as her hand snaked up the inside of his thigh, and he returned the favour by toying with the hem of her curve-hugging minidress, all bright with the sort of tropical print Vegas tourists often wore.

The flirting became foreplay as she opened her legs to give him a glimpse of a skimpy red thong before sliding to the edge of the barstool and pulling his hand up against the triangle of fabric moistening next to her goodies. Her cherry red nails made less than gentle scratching motions against his fly as his mouth found hers once more. After another serious wrestling match with her tongue, he pulled her from the stool and practically dragged her toward the back door, groping as they went.

The parking lot was full of expensive cars, and two things quickly became clear. Tanya had had a few more Cosmos than necessary for an alcoholic buzz. And Tanya had a car fetish. ‘Oooh! A Humvee!’ she squealed. And before he could stop her, she raced over to the vehicle. That was no small feat in her outrageously high heels, and even more astonishingly, she actually stepped out of her red thong as she did so. Then she hoiked her skirt and hopped onto the hood of the black Humvee that was waxed to an eye-dazzling sheen even in the glow of the streetlights. Once she was up, her heels clunk-clunking on the waxed surface, she spread her legs wide and squatted, giving him a tantalizing view of her pussy before she arched her back and thrust her hips forward in just such a way that said pussy was up close and personal with said wax job giving it … well, a wax job. ‘Bože! Oh bože! Is good,’ she moaned. ‘Is so good! Come! Join me’

‘Jesus, Tanya! Get off there! Come down from there,’ he hissed, anxiously stooping to pick up the shed panties and stuffing them into his pocket. Three men came out of the bar and got an eyeful when Tanya chose that moment to flash her very excellent tits from her position high atop the hood of the Humvee.

The men made no attempt to look away, and Tanya made no attempt to hide what she had. And Nick had to admit that in the competition between his very impressed cock and the fear of getting arrested as an accessory to Tanya’s indecent exposure, his cock was winning, hands down. ‘Come on, come down here. Now!’ He gave another look around the parking lot and offered her his hand. Giggling loudly, she took it and slid, open-legged, off the Humvee, leaving a very wet path right down the centre of the hood that left no doubt as to what’d caused it. From there she launched herself at him mouth first, with her magnificent and still uncovered tits not far behind.

‘Ooooh! There’s a Porsche. I love Porsches.’

Nick figured if the Humvee made her wet the Porsche would probably give her multiples, but he wasn’t risking another scene. He kept his arm around her waist and half escorted, half carried her to the limo. Before he could get the door unlocked, she spat on her hands and slathered her nipples with a good dose of saliva. Then she gave the driver’s side window the full-frontal rub-up. Tit prints. Nick had tit prints on the window of his limo. Looking rather pleased with her artwork, Tanya leant on the back door, fingering herself while he unlocked.

‘Do the people ever have sex in your limo when you are driving them?’

‘Yup.’ He decided not to tell her about his last unpleasant experience.

‘Oooh, is sexy!’ She managed a grope at his fly and rubbed up against him before he opened the back door and pushed her in, with her pulling him in on top. ‘Do you watch them in your mirror?’ she asked, tugging loose his belt and going to work on his fly. ‘Do they sometimes make you come?’

‘Not so far, no.’

She made a tut-tut sound with her tongue before she slipped it back in his mouth. ‘Do they ever ask you to join them?’ She slurred the words across his lips.

‘I’ve had offers,’ he managed, pulling away far enough to tug at a delicious mouthful of nipple. ‘Wouldn’t be very professional me joining the orgy, though, would it?’

‘Spoilsport.’ She offered him a pout before she squirmed out from under him, and slid down his body to take his very agreeable cock into her mouth. And wow, could the woman suck cock! Her throat was seriously deep and her grip was tight enough to suck the paint off a mop handle. And her tongue – holy Christ on a pogo stick, her tongue was warm and wet and all over the place. He curled his fingers in the masses of blonde hair while she sucked and licked his cock like it was the best lollipop ever. Her skirt was still hiked up over her hips, exposing the shift and grind, shift and grind of her pert little arse as she rode her hand like a rocking horse. And the door was still open!

The smell of her pussy filled the dry desert air with a humid sea scent of female heat, and he could almost make out the wet sounds of her fingers dancing over her snatch above the slurping and licking of her tight mouth. But as delicious as her mouth was, it was her pussy he wanted. And she must have read his mind because, just as he reached for the condom in his pocket, she came up gasping and wiping her mouth.

‘Fuck me. Please fuck me, Nick. I need you to fuck me now.’

It was all he could do to hold her off until he got suited up for business, then she shoved onto him so hard that she left him gasping for breath and grabbing her hips in self-preservation, at least until he caught her rhythm. And then he let her ride him hard.

‘Your cock is so good. It fits so tight up in my pussy,’ she half whispered. ‘I need to come, Nick, I need to come so bad, so bad.’

As much as he wanted to knead and caress her luscious breasts, he couldn’t bring himself to shove her hands away from the filthy mauling she was giving them. Her nipples were engorged like fat cherry gumdrops that made his mouth water. Surely it must hurt, the way she pinched and tugged and squeezed.

He raked the nib of her clit until it pearled and jutted from under its hood and raked back against his finger, wet from the flood of her juices lubricating his sheathed cock.

‘Is hard. My clit is so hard,’ she sighed. ‘And my pussy is eating your cock like hungry mouth.’

Yup, it was doing that all right, and very well getting the job done. One last stroke of her clit and her orgasm broke in a vice-grip clench on his cock. ‘I’m coming! I’m coming!’ she keened, just as two more men stepped out – probably to take a piss in the alley. But they only registered as a minor distraction because Tanya’s tight grip and bounce and her fierce orgasmic tremors along his cock had Nick coming too. Tanya’s spasms milked every last drop from him, and it was a lot. He was amazed there weren’t broken bones or pulled muscles for their efforts.

He had just disposed of the condom and she was wiping herself clean with the box of tissues he kept in the back of the Town Car when another limo pulled up, way too close for politeness considering there was plenty of room in the parking lot.

At the sight of it, Tanya cried out, and it wasn’t with the delight she’d had over the Humvee. She tossed the wad of tissue she’d been using and turned to run just as a man the size of a small freight train stepped out and grabbed her by the arm. ‘You need to come with us, Tanya.’

‘No! No! Don’t let them take me, Nick. Please don’t let them take me.’ She hammered her little fists ineffectually on the man’s chest. ‘Leave me alone. I haven’t done anything wrong. I haven’t.’

‘Did you fuck him?’ The man asked, in a voice that seemed way too soft for anyone that size. When she began to sob, the man simply shook his head and helped her into the open limo. ‘You can explain everything to Elsa when you get home.’

At that, Nick attacked. Well, it wasn’t much of an attack. The man just shrugged him off and pressed him up against the hood of his own limo with one beefy hand. ‘This is not your concern, Mr Chase.’

‘It is if she doesn’t want to go, besides … How do you know my name?’ Nick didn’t strain against the man’s stiff arm hold. He knew it wouldn’t help. ‘She doesn’t want to go,’ he said, as if repeating it louder would send the big man packing in fear. Jesus! Where was his sense of self-preservation? Was he out of his mind? This could be Mafia; maybe this man was her pimp. Hell, he knew thinking with his cock was a bad idea. ‘I’ll call the cops,’ he threatened.

The man raised an unimpressed eyebrow. ‘And tell them what? Tanya’s drunk. And when she’s drunk she becomes a drama queen. She shouldn’t be here and she knows it. I’m just taking her home. That’s all. And I’d advise you to stay out of it.’

He gave Nick a half-hearted warning shove before he got back in the car and drove away with Tanya yelling, ‘Please, Nick! Don’t let them take me! I don’t want to go. I want to stay with you!’

And Nick, stupid man that he was, hopped in his limo and followed.

Chapter Two

Nick followed the limo into a deserted part of the parking garage at the Cosmopolitan. There it stopped and Freight Train Man, who seemed neither surprised nor upset that Nick had followed, got out and held the door for Tanya. She ran to Nick and threw her arms around his neck. ‘Don’t tell her anything,’ she sobbed onto the front of his shirt.

‘Tell who? What?’

‘Elsa Crane. Is best we don’t tell her anything.’

Still holding onto him for dear life, she addressed the big man. ‘You don’t have to tell her this. Please, Pagan, it will be our little secret. I made mistake, that’s all. It won’t happen again. I can pay you.’

‘You can’t pay me enough to incur Elsa’s wrath, Tanya. Sorry.’ And the big man truly did look sad about his decision.’

They entered the Cosmopolitan through the casino like they were tourists, like whatever was happening was nothing out of the ordinary. The constant jangle of slots and bells and buzzers of electronic gaming surrounded them as they made their way through to the hotel elevator bank, Tanya clinging possessively to Nick. The guy she’d called Pagan flanked her on the other side and practically filled the elevator he escorted them into. To Nick’s surprise, they got off on the 20th floor and made their way to one of the suites. Granted, the suites in the Cosmopolitan were nice, but Nick had been expecting mahogany and leather in a private apartment that reeked of money and intrigue. Pagan knocked softly on the door. Tanya held Nick’s arm in a fingernail-gouging grip and whimpered softly.

A man who was as tall as Pagan but built much more like a dancer opened the door and nodded them in. He was dressed like Tarzan in a leopard-print loincloth that left little of a well-worked-out physique to the imagination. His only other fashion accessory was a pair of unlaced black Converse high-tops. That it didn’t seem strange to Nick was a testament to how long he’d been working in Vegas.

The man gave Nick a curious onceover then, with a jerk of his head, nodded them toward one of the bedrooms.

Sitting in the middle of the big bed was Tarzan’s Jane. Her loincloth and halter top barely covered the goodies, and it was obvious that the goodies were exceptionally fine. Her heavy auburn hair was in the process of escaping a large tortoiseshell clip, and a good bit of it hung in wild ringlets down her back and over her shoulders. Her do was all topped off by a bright blue headset that got lost in the crown of her hair and reappeared from the silky dark mass just in time to cup her ears. She wriggled bare toes at the end of well-muscled legs that went on for ever before disappearing under the small laptop upon which she typed madly.

At last the woman looked up, and Nick was astounded that someone with such dark hair had such blue eyes. The smile she offered was very bright and very brief as she took in the way Tanya still held onto Nick like she was about to walk the plank.

‘Did you two have sex?’ she asked without so much as a how-do-you-do.

‘That’s none of your business,’ Nick said.

‘It is my business.’ She pulled off the earphones and shoved them and the computer to Tarzan before crawling off the bed with all the grace the leopard print would imply. It was only as Tarzan settled into her place that Nick noticed the bedroom was buried in an array of monitors, keyboards, and other electronics he couldn’t identify. There were also two telescopes pointed out the window.

The woman came to stand in front of Tanya. ‘Did you have sex with him?’ she asked.

‘It was just once, Elsa, and we used the condom.’ Tanya’s voice was a breathless tremble. All trace of her alcohol buzz was gone.

‘Of course we used a condom. I’m not stu –’

Elsa raised her hand to stop him. ‘Mr Chase, though your use of a condom is commendable, it fails to absolve Tanya of what she’s done.’

‘What she’s done? She had sex. People do that, you know?’

She ignored him and focused her attention on Tanya. ‘You’ve got a month paid on your flat, and your two months’ severance pay’ll be deposited first thing in the morning. Pagan’ll go with you to clear out your locker, then he’ll drive you home, since you’ve been drinking.’

‘What?’ Nick exploded. ‘You fired her for having sex with me?’

‘No, Mr Chase. I fired her for having sex with anybody other than her approved partners.’

Before he could protest, Tanya spoke up. ‘What about my bonus? I still get my bonus, no? Is so close to the end of my contract.’

Elsa held her gaze. ‘You’re in breach of contract, Tanya, so no. You don’t get your bonus, and you knew that when you went off and broke the rules yet again.’

Tanya burst into tears. ‘But I need the bonus. I have to have, or how will I pay for my mother’s surgery and her convalescence afterward? That is whole reason why I need the bonus.’

‘You can’t be serious,’ Nick said. ‘OK, fine. Fire her if you have to, though I think it’s pretty stupid to fire someone because they had sex on their own time. In fact, I’m pretty sure if Tanya wanted to hire a lawyer, we’d find that what you’re doing’s illegal.’

For a second, Nick thought Elsa would laugh at him, the way her lips curled in a smile, the way her lungs filled with air, and then she spoke once again to Tanya. ‘Want to hire a lawyer, Tanya?’

‘Well of course she’ll say no if you intimidate her enough.’

Elsa rubbed the bridge of her nose and shook her head. ‘I’m not intimidating her, Mr Chase. No one is intimidating anyone, but she won’t hire a lawyer.’

Then Nick twigged. ‘Wait a minute; is she a prostitute, then?’

This time Elsa did laugh and Tanya wailed. ‘No, she’s not a prostitute, but she knows she’s in breach of contract, as she’s known the past four times she’s had sex outside the boundaries of that contract, and I’ve let her get away with it. But not this time. Not this time.’

‘You can’t do this to me, please, Elsa.’ Tanya wept openly, grabbing the woman by the hand. ‘Please, just give me one more chance.’

Elsa pulled away, somewhat more gently than Nick would have expected. ‘I’ve given you way more chances than I would have given anyone else, Tanya. Now I’m sorry, but what’s done is done.’

‘But it’s only two more months. Just two more. Please! What about my mother?’

‘You should have thought of that before breaching your contract. There are charities, places you can go for what you need, Tanya, but I can’t help you.’

‘Wait a minute.’ Once again, Nick butted in where it was none of his damn business instead of saying thank you very much and scramming fast. ‘So you’re getting two months’ severance pay?’

‘And it’s a lot,’ Elsa said. ‘MV pays its employees well.’

‘Is not enough, though.’ Tanya bit her lip and wiped at her nose with the back of her hand. ‘It will never be enough.’

‘And she only gets the bonus if she finishes the contracted period?’ Nick said.

Elsa nodded. ‘It’s a three-year contract with a very large completion bonus.’

He took a step forward. ‘How large?’

‘Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars,’ Tanya sobbed.

‘Jesus! A quarter of a million? That’s one helluva bonus,’ Nick said.

‘And it would have been mine in two months, just two more months.’ Tanya wept against his chest.

‘How can you be so heartless? And just because the woman wants to have sex? Who doesn’t?’

‘It’s a contract, Mr Chase, and one that Tanya’s broken repeatedly. As for sex, it’s readily available to her. Even you she could have had if she’d only followed the rules.’

‘It’s just two months, damn it! And there are extenuating circumstances.’

‘Extenuating circumstances which Ms Povic chose to ignore each time she spread her legs for a stranger.’ Elsa raised a hand. ‘I don’t blame you. It’s not your fault. As you say, everyone wants sex. But since you don’t fully understand the circumstances, then it’s best you stay out of it.’

‘Sorry to interrupt,’ Tarzan said from his cross-legged position on the bed, which did little to hide his junk. ‘But someone’s complaining about the noise coming from room 2031.’

‘Who?’ Elsa’s attention shifted instantly to the hodgepodge of electronics set up on the dressing table. ‘I need a room number, Pike, I need a room number!’

‘Uh, 2039.’

Elsa slid another headset over her mass of hair while her fingers flew over the keyboard of another computer. ‘Damn it, they must be really loud. I was sure we’d cleared enough rooms so no one would be disturbed. Pike, when I connect, tell Beetle to moan and shout she’s coming.’ Raising a hand, she pointed at him as she spoke into the headset. ‘Hello, Mr Hegel, this is the front desk.’ She batted her eyelashes and smiled. ‘Yes, I’m calling about the disturbance. Oh my! Yes, even I can hear that. Mm hmm, uh huh, I see.’ The smile on her face never wavered. ‘Mr Hegel, I’m so sorry for the inconvenience. Really, it’s a mistake that you’re even in that room. The whole floor’s being used for a film. No, not a porn film. It’s a romantic comedy.’ Once again she nodded and smiled. ‘Yes, I know, the industry’s certainly pushing the boundaries these days. Nothing decent to watch any more.’

She listened politely and nodded, then cut in. ‘Mr Hegel, obviously the hotel can’t stop the filming, but what we can do is give you $500 worth of credit in the casino. Yes, that’s right. We’ll also give you an upgrade for your room as well. One of our terrace suites is available. We can have the bellboy come up now and move you if you’d like.’ She gave the cue to Pike again. Even Nick could hear someone shouting, “I’m coming, I’m coming!” over the headset. Elsa nodded and kept smiling. ‘Oh, you want to wait till morning. Well, if you’re sure you can endure it, Mr Hegel. We’ll have you moved first thing tomorrow. You’re welcome. Sorry for the inconvenience.’ She punched a few more keys on the computer, pulled off the headset, then turned her attention back to Nick and Tanya.

‘Surely you can give her one more chance. I mean it’s her mother,’ Nick said. ‘And really, it was my fault. I’d had a bad day and I wasn’t on my best behaviour.’

Elsa tossed the headset back onto the dressing table and rubbed the back of her neck. ‘Mr Chase, unless you want to fulfil Tanya’s contract for her, this conversation is over. It’s been a very long day, and I’ve had enough. Pagan will escort the two of you back downstairs, and since Tanya no longer works for me, I don’t care if you fuck her brains out. Now if you’d –’

‘All right,’ Nick interrupted. ‘I will.’

Suddenly, all eyes were on him. ‘Tell me what to do and I’ll fulfil the contract for her. After all, it’s my fault she’s in breach.’

Tanya gave a little yelp that sounded like a kitten in distress and Elsa laughed out loud. ‘Mr Chase, you don’t even know what Tanya’s contract involves.’

‘I assume it has something to do with what’s going on in room 2031. It’s not prostitution is it?’

‘No! No, is not prostitution.’ Excitement vibrated through Tanya’s voice. ‘Is nothing like that.’

‘Actually, it’s something like that,’ Elsa corrected. ‘My people get paid for sex.’

‘I don’t understand,’ Nick said.’

She nodded him over to one of the telescopes set up at the bedroom window. When he balked, she nodded again. ‘Go ahead; check out what’s going on in room 2031.’

Nick nearly knocked the scope out of focus at his first view of the naked arse of a man pistoning his cock into a woman bent over a big bed. Her head was buried between the legs of another woman, who was pinching her own nipples for all she was worth and writhing beneath the serious tongue action.

‘Then they are prostitutes.’ Nick’s voice dropped to a whisper, as though he feared he might disturb the people he viewed through the scope.

‘No.’ Elsa leant close to him as though she could see over his shoulder. ‘They all work for me, and they get paid a lot of money to have sex with each other while someone else watches.’

With difficulty, Nick took his eyes off what was going on in the scope. He suddenly felt dizzy. ‘Let me get this straight, these people –’ He nodded around the room. ‘All of these people and those –’ he pointed to the scope ‘– have sex with each other and people pay money to watch.’

Elsa nodded ‘A lot of money.’

‘And that’s what Tanya was doing? That’s what the contract’s about: having sex and letting people watch?’

‘That’s what the contract’s about,’ Elsa said. With a smirk, she pulled Tanya’s red panties out of Nick’s pocket where he’d forgotten he’d stuffed them after he’d picked them up from the parking lot at the Mango. She handed the tiny scrap of fabric back to Tanya and replaced it with a black business card, briskly patting his pocket as she did so. ‘I know how much you loathe your job, Mr Chase, and I can almost guarantee you’d find what Tanya does a lot more satisfying. But –’ she ran a hand down and gave his crotch a quick grope ‘– it takes some serious balls.’

He elbowed her away and shoved past Tanya and Pagan. ‘You people are all crazy if you think I’d … if you think I might …’

Elsa offered him a smile that he felt, much to his discomfort, right down between his legs. Then she lifted an eyebrow and gave a shrug that made the dark gloss of her hair shimmer in the subdued lighting. ‘You asked.’

That was it. With his heart hammering and his cock shoving at his fly, he fled the suite with Tanya wailing behind him, ‘Please, Nick! Please don’t let her do this to me. Please, Nick!’

He could still hear the echo of her words as he fled the Strip, fled the lights, fled the city limits. He found himself driving out toward Red Rocks before he pulled off on a dark side road. He opened the door to the cool desert air and undid his jeans. He wondered how he could possibly be horny after what had happened to poor Tanya because of him. But, Jesus Christ, he was! In fact, he was so turned on he’d feared he might have to pull into an alley and get some relief before he even left the city.

He wrestled the heft of his cock from his boxers with a grunt, as though the weight of it was almost too much for him to lift, and damned if it didn’t feel that way. He gave his balls a cupping, biting his lip and sucking in a heavy breath as he did so. Then he spat on his hand and ran it down his length in a tight fist, feeling a shiver pass up his spine at the anxious stretch of himself. He jerked and tugged to thoughts of Tanya exposing her pussy and wiping her juices over the waxed hood of the Humvee. By the time his thoughts shifted to the view through the telescope, the tight clench and release of the man’s arse as he jackhammered the woman bent over the bed, feasting on pussy, Nick had dragged himself from behind the wheel to lean against the limo. His efforts with his cock had turned into a tense thrust and squeeze of a battle. Yes, what they were doing was outrageously hot, and if he’d been alone in the room, gazing at the action through the scope, he’d have undone his fly and had a good hard wank, maybe even more than one. Precome sheened the end of his cock as he recalled he hadn’t been the only one watching the trio. Someone had paid a lot of money to watch them do the nasty.

His grunts and groans filled the silent desert night as he worked himself, kneading his tight balls and thrusting into his fist like it was a pussy, like it was Tanya’s pussy. The limo rocked from the press and shove of his body as he put Tanya and himself in the hotel room instead of the threesome, as he bent her over the bed in his imagination, her snatch spread slick and begging. The pressure built as he thought of the audience viewing him from an anonymous place, tugging at hard cocks, maybe fingering wet pussies, as they watched him slide into Tanya, as she quivered and grasped and begged him to fuck her harder. And the anonymous audience, suddenly and surprisingly, had Elsa Crane’s face. Elsa in her leopard print, Elsa with her hand up under her loincloth, Elsa shoving aside her halter to fondle breasts that were surely magnificent. Then Elsa joined Tanya in his fantasy. In fact, Elsa replaced Tanya on the bed, face up. She lifted her loincloth until he could see every wet fold of her silken slit, until he could see the hard press of her clit, until there was no longer any denying himself the woman lying there on the bed, legs spread, arms open, pussy pouting.

As he imagined thrusting deep into Elsa’s hot tightness, the world behind his closed eyelids burst in a kaleidoscope of colour and light, and when he came, the explosion rocked him to the core as he shot streamers of semen onto the desert floor, glistening pearlescent in the lazy moonlight.

Chapter Three

After a very long, very strange night, Elsa was up early to Skype Rita Holly. In the three and a half years since Rita had become the head of the High Council of The Mount in London, the two had become fast friends. Rita was making a trip to Vegas in a few weeks, and Elsa could hardly wait to meet her in person. She sipped at her third cup of coffee and listened as Rita updated her with the latest news from the London coven. Rita was so much easier to work with than her predecessor, Vivienne, had been. Vivienne had always treated Elsa like she was some bastard relative and kept contact between the two covens to a minimum. OK, Mount Vegas was only a very small outpost of The Mount. It didn’t have coven status yet, but Elsa knew that it was already making a good impression with the rest of The Mount; in no small part due to her hard work and the work of her brilliant team.

Rita Holly Martelli had breathed new life into the London Coven. That wasn’t much of a surprise, since her mother was the head of the High Council in Rome, which was the oldest, most respected coven of The Mount. Like mother like daughter, Elsa thought. It must have taken a Martelli feat of genius to wrest the reins of power from Vivienne. Elsa didn’t know the details, but she hoped to wheedle them out of Rita over dinner and a nice bottle of Malbec while she was in Vegas.

‘Elsa, the scenario you’re planning sounds totally yummy.’ Rita squirmed in her chair and offered a thousand-watt smile. ‘I discussed it with Edward, and he’s in. We haven’t done any roleplaying in a while, and it’ll be fun to do it for an appreciative audience.’ She squinted at her computer screen. ‘Sweetie, you look tired. I know I got you up early, but what’s going on?’

‘I had to let Tanya go last night,’ Elsa said.

‘Oh no. Just what you didn’t need right now. And with her so close to completing her contract. Same problem?’

Elsa nodded. ‘It’s more than that, though. She’s run up some serious gambling debts as well, and I have a feeling she was … trying to make a few bucks on the side. She swears she didn’t take money for it, and the guy she was with tonight – well, I’m sure no money was involved there. He definitely wasn’t the type. But I just can’t turn a blind eye any more, Rita. The rules are in place for a reason. I hate it that she won’t get her bonus, but what else could I do?’

‘You did the right thing.’ Rita said. ‘Every time she goes off on her own like that she puts everything and everyone in jeopardy. And maybe this will be her wake-up call to get help with her gambling problem. What about the man she was with?’

Elsa smiled to herself. ‘A really nice guy, actually. Really sexy. I felt sorry for him. I’m pretty sure it was the first time he’d ever picked up someone at a bar. He blamed himself for Tanya’s bad behaviour – and oh, the man’s guilt was so sexy.’ She sighed at the memory. ‘He nearly tore me a new one for being so heartless to Tanya. And he even offered to fulfil the last two months of her contract so she could get her bonus.’

Rita nearly choked on her tea. ‘Are you serious? Wow! That’s a first. So what do you think? Could he do it?’

‘I doubt it,’ Elsa said. ‘When I explained to him what we do here at Mount Vegas, he couldn’t get out the door fast enough. But I did stick a card in his pocket.’ She giggled. ‘Believe me, I’ve already had a few wicked fantasies about how much fun I’d have teaching him the ropes, but that’s probably as far as it’ll go.’

Rita gave a sympathetic nod. ‘Well even at The Mount, a girl still has to have her fantasies. Anyway, send me over the specs for Mrs Keyser’s fantasy, and Edward and I’ll have a little fun with it. Gotta run. I’m meeting Leo over at the Zoo to see one of his new pets. Apparently she’s quite something.’

The two women said their goodbyes. For a long moment, Elsa sat looking at the Mount Vegas logo, thinking of how much fun it would be to have Rita and Edward playing the lead roles in Mrs Keyser’s fantasy. Mrs Keyser was a regular client with a fuck-ton of money, which she loved spending on pervy scenarios. Sadly, the woman didn’t have a lot of imagination. She paid top dollar for generic cleaned-up kink. But she did pay top dollar, so no matter how pedestrian the fantasy was, Mount Vegas provided it.

Elsa looked down at the specs she had discussed with Mrs Keyser. It was another “virgin loses her cherry to a surly billionaire” scenario, which would be nicely spiced up by having the head of The Mount in London and the owner of its club playing the billionaire and his virgin. Their involvement would raise Mount Vegas’ profile considerably within the organisation, and it would be a voyeuristic treat for the whole team.

Originally she’d had Tanya in mind for the role of the virgin with Deke playing the brusque billionaire dom – he looked the part. Thankfully, the idea had totally intrigued Rita and Edward or Elsa would have ended up playing the virgin. Though she never thought of herself as anything but worldly, she had the look that would have worked. She loathed the role of sub almost as much as she loathed the role of a virgin. With Tanya gone, though, she supposed she should get used to it. They had been asked to supply at least one billionaire and virgin fantasy a month since Fifty Shades of Grey.

She forced her attention back to Mrs K’s specs, which she had entitled The Billionaire Buys a Virgin Bride. The plot was simple. The billionaire buys the virgin as his bride to pay off her family’s gambling debt. Of course, that bit was all in Mrs K’s head. The actual fantasy would begin in The Wedding Chapel. Mrs K wanted that part included, with a kinky little scene beforehand in which the billionaire checks out his merchandise just to make sure he gets what he paid for. Well, that was a nice touch, Elsa thought. She wrote down a few notes about a discreet but filthy feel-up and probe of the little innocent to make sure she really was a virgin under all that white taffeta. Elsa added some very naughty ideas about the groom guiding his little bride’s virgin hand to the fly of his tux for her first fondle of his very expensive junk. It was shaping up nicely for a billionaire/virgin fantasy.

After the happy couple said “I do” there would be hot, sexy foreplay in the limo on the way to the hotel. Elsa could imagine lots of dirty talk on the part of the billionaire about his new bride’s lovely tits and her tight little slit that he was all bulging and hard to fuck. All the while the coy virgin would be blushing and squirming and moistening the crotch of her wedding panties, or lack thereof – oooh, that was better yet. Make the little dear walk down the aisle without any undies!

‘Oooh Mr Chase, please be gentle with me. I’ve never been with a man before and you’re sooo biiig,’ Elsa said out loud in a mock-girlish voice. Foreplay in a limo. Of course it would be Nick Chase she’d think of. After he had stormed off last night, she’d given herself a serious finger-fucking when she was alone in her bed trying to unwind after a day that had gone on for ever. It wasn’t just the thought of him coming into Mount Vegas to finish out Tanya’s contract, all knight-in-shining-armour-like, it was that he’d even consider such a thing to begin with – blaming himself for Tanya’s bad behaviour. OK, so he’d left in a huff when he found out what fulfilling her contract would involve, but he’d left with a hard-on, and one it didn’t take 20/20 vision to see. Five would get you twenty he’d had to stop and jerk off before he got back home. She wondered if he’d even made it out of the building before he’d had to answer the call.

God, how she’d love the chance to handle that cock! Wouldn’t it have been something if Nick Chase had agreed to see out Tanya’s contract? Elsa’s panties got moister at the thought. Wouldn’t she just love the chance to train that boy up? With those drowning-deep cinnamon eyes and that slightly mussed bedroom hair that had the bronze shimmer of desert heat about it, training him would be no hardship. He’d be a huge hit with the clients. She wished she’d have found a way to get that shirt off him. It was quite obvious the man was built for filth, and he was not the kind of man she figured spent hours in the gym to get that way. He spent time in the sun, she’d bet. The bit of research she’d managed before he stormed the castle to rescue Tanya said that he owned a place with a couple acres outside town and that he’d inherited the limo business from his father. Not his first choice, the Vegas limo business, especially not for someone with Nick’s background. She wondered if his hands were calloused. She loved the feel of callouses against her more sensitive bits. She crossed her legs to get a good squeeze where she needed it and thought about guiding Nick Chase’s fingers to those sensitive bits to check for callouses.

It was hard to get comfy in her chair as she read through Mrs K’s specs. Seriously, she would almost be willing to play the submissive virgin if Nick Chase was her billionaire, and certainly he had that surly billionaire look about him. And oh, the way he did guilt! Mrs K would burn out her vibrator in a fit of lust at the sight of him “devirginising” Elsa.

Elsa was just reaching in the drawer for her own vibrator to see where fantasies of Nick Chase devirginising her might lead when there was a knock on the door, and Pike, her second in command, stepped in without waiting for her invitation.

He smiled as she stuck the vibe back in its place. ‘You thinking about last night? I had a good wank afterwards. Chase is hot. I don’t mind saying I was disappointed to see him leave so quickly.’ He nodded down to the drawer where she kept her toys. ‘You want me to give you a few minutes? Or I can take care of you if you’d like.’

‘Thanks, Pike.’ She offered him a wave of her hand. ‘I’d love to take you up on it, but today I really don’t have time, so it’s a good thing you got here when you did. Now that we’re short-handed, I’ve got to reshuffle everyone for tonight’s little adventure. Deke’s set to play our big-name magician – turns out he even knows a few magic tricks – but Tanya was supposed to be his buxom assistant who gets it up the ass in the disappearing cabinet.’

Pike nodded. ‘That was a nightmare to get cameras set up in. Leave it to Darnell Peters to complicate things.’

‘Yes, but he pays well and he’s kinky as hell. And he adores watching Tanya.’

Pike sat one tightly jeaned arse cheek on her desk and smiled down at her. ‘But he likes watching you even better.’

‘She was prepared for the role. I’m not.’

‘That never stopped you before, Elsa. You’re great at pulling an act out of your ass. You’re upset about letting Tanya go, that’s all.’

She stared past him at the wall behind. ‘It was the right thing to do, Pike.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘If it had been me, I’d have done it ages ago. Nobody’s that good. Personally –’ he leant over the desk and brushed a quick kiss across her lips ‘– I’m still hoping our lovely Mr Chase will have spent a sleepless, guilt-ridden night and rush back to us all ready to take on Tanya’s contract. I saw you slip the card into his pocket.’

She forced a little laugh. ‘Always an optimist, aren’t you, Pike?’

‘Always a pessimist, aren’t you, Elsa?’ He stood and rubbed his hands together in anticipation. ‘I think we haven’t seen the last of Mr Chase. If I were to venture a guess, Tanya’ll harass him until the poor guy’ll take on her contract just to get her to leave him alone.’

‘Or he’ll take out a restraining order,’ Elsa said. Then she added. ‘Even if he did come back and he did agree to finish out Tanya’s contract, he’d never last two months. Hell, I doubt he’d make it through one week.’

‘It’s Vegas,’ Pike said. ‘I’ll bet you he’ll call back in less than 48 hours, probably unable to shut out the guilt or Tanya’s badgering, or all the nasty thoughts he’s had about what he saw last night.’

Elsa was reminded again why she loved Pike so much. Her second in command had a way of always convincing the pessimist in her that the glass was half full. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘I’ll bet you we won’t see him again. If I win, I get one of your fabulous back rubs.’

He offered her his filthiest look. ‘With all the trimmings?’

‘All the trimmings,’ she said.

‘And if I win, like it or not, you’ll be my sub in the next dungeon fantasy. Though I suppose before we shake on it, I should warn you I’ve stacked the deck.’

‘Oh?’ She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him.

‘I accidentally sent Tanya Mr Chase’s cell phone number last night before I went off to beddy-bye.’ He stopped her response with a quick kiss. ‘And no need to play shocked. I got it from you, my lady. You’re not the only one who has access to Mount Vegas research.’ He made quotation marks in the air with his fingers to emphasise the word “research.’” He looked at her from under a dramatically drawn brow. ‘You weren’t thinking of calling him yourself, were you?’

‘I certainly wasn’t,’ she replied. ‘Frankly, I don’t think it’ll matter even if you did give his number to Tanya. He fucked her once and got more than he bargained for. End of story. And he doesn’t have to answer his calls, so yes, Mr Smart Ass, I’ll take your bet.’ She stretched in her chair and twisted her neck from side to side. ‘I really could use a good back rub.’ She offered him her hand.’

‘It’s a bet, then,’ he replied, shaking on it. Then he dusted a kiss across the back of her knuckles. ‘I’ll have the dungeon made ready.’

She reached up and gave his cheek a playful slap. ‘You do that. I always like my people to have a well-prepared workplace. Now can we take a look at this week’s agenda and see how we can minimise the loss-of-Tanya damage.’

Chapter Four

The damned alarm went off in the middle of the hottest fuck Nick had ever had. He came up out of the dream roaring like an angry bear and practically slapped the clock off the nightstand in his efforts to shut it off. There was no going back to sleep, not with his heart hammering and his dick stretching out between his legs like it owned the place. Cursing between his teeth, he stumbled to the bathroom with only one eye half open. Not bothering with the stop at the commode for the piss he knew he couldn’t manage as hard as he was, he shoved his way into the shower and cranked the hot water. No cold showers this morning. He had every intention of giving this dream a good send-off. For a minute he leant against the wall, letting the jets from the shower massage work their magic. Then, when he was nice and wet, he soaped up, still not bothering to open his eyes, still doing his best to capture the vivid images from his dream. Once his chest and armpits, lower back and arse were well lathered, he went to work where he needed it most. And when his pubes felt like they were mounded in thick whipped cream, he closed his fist around his sudsy hard-on and began to stroke, letting the dream flood full-on back into his head.

It had all started on the top of the Humvee in the parking lot at the Mango. It was right there in broad daylight. He had Tanya Povic’s tropical print skirt shoved up over her arse, ploughing into her fast and furious while he kneaded her gorgeous tits like they were bread dough ready to bake. They were grunting and thrusting and shoving, and she kept on saying in that sexy Slavic accent, ‘Is good! Is so good! Fuck me harrderr, Nick Chase, I vant to come!’ And he was happy to oblige.

The parking lot was full of people with scopes and cameras, of all things, and they were all watching Nick mount Tanya on top of the Humvee. Some of the men had cocks out, tugging and jerking like they’d lose control. The women either had hands in their panties or on their tits, which they were happy to expose to the desert sun. Some of the watchers were even humping each other while Tanya kept begging him to fuck her harder.

Elsa Crane had her keyboards and monitors and electronic surveillance equipment set up on the hood of his limo. She was bent over with her leopard-print loincloth barely covering her magnificent arse. Then, all of a sudden, she turned to Nick and Tanya and said in a loud voice, ‘Tanya, you’re fired. Get off Nick and let me fuck him.’ Nick watched with his cock in his hand while Elsa gave Tanya’s tits a fondle and made her bend for a good pussy-probing, as though she might be trying to stash something in that tight little hole – like office supplies, maybe. It was a dream, after all.

As Elsa stroked and spread and examined Tanya’s cunt, Tanya turned her attention back to Nick’s hard-on, giving him a sucking that would have made his eyes cross if he hadn’t been so keenly focused on what Elsa was doing.

Finally, Elsa gave the woman a hard smack on her pert little backside, and Tanya went in and out among the crowd, offering to suck cock or lick pussy for anyone who would fulfil the remains of her contract so she could get her bonus. Then, the next thing he knew, Elsa had her top off and her loincloth hoiked, as she crawled up onto the Humvee and mounted him in a seductive squat, her tight pussy sheathing him like a surgical glove. Then she grabbed him by the hair and pulled him up to nurse on her luscious tits, a task he was totally up for. People with their cameras and scopes moved up close and personal, to where he could even hear their heavy breathing, which was no small feat above his own. With Elsa Crane gripping and squeezing and rocking and riding, he was about to go off like a nuclear warhead. And then … Then the damned alarm clock went off instead of him.

The tug, tug, tug on his cock against the bounce of his lead-heavy balls was just about to get him there under the pulsing of the shower, though why it should be Elsa Crane who got his cock iron-stiff, he didn’t know. She was a hard-ass, if ever there was one, and she’d all but laughed at him when he’d offered to fulfil Tanya’s contract. Tug, tug, tug. She probably did laugh when he turned and left. Jesus, it was insane what they were doing. Filthy insane. He thought about the ménage he’d viewed through the telescope. Tug, tug, tug. He thought about him standing in the desert jerking off from the experience, and it was Elsa Crane he’d been fucking in his fantasy. Jesus, what was it about that woman? Was it that avalanche of thick, shiny hair? Those deep blue eyes? The fact that the leopard print did little to disguise the fittest body he’d ever seen? The slight gravel to her voice that he just wanted to rub up against? Tug, tug, tug.

But as the dream gave way to his fantasy, Elsa wasn’t begging him to fuck her harder. She was hardly the begging type, was she? In his fantasy, she rode him like she was a jockey and he was her stud. She didn’t need to ask him anything. She took what she wanted, and he was happy that she took it from him. Suddenly, the cameras and the scopes and the watchers were almost on top of them and it was enough. All of them watching Elsa Crane fuck him until his balls exploded – it was enough. He came in a convulsing, backbreaking ejaculation that belied how hard he’d come in the desert just a few hours ago. The cascade of steamy water from the shower washed the evidence of his lust down the drain.

Out of the shower, still thinking about why both jerk-off sessions had involved being watched, he dressed in his uniform of choice – black jeans and a black cotton shirt. He had a couple of drivers who actually dressed in livery, but he was only driving because he was a man short. The last time he’d worn a proper suit with a tie had been his father’s funeral. His aunt Reba had teased him about it, had said that she hoped the next time she saw him all spiffed up – that’s how she put it – would be for his wedding. He’d told her not to hold her breath.

He called Lou-Ann down at dispatch before he headed out. ‘Any good news for me?’ he asked when she answered.

‘Yup,’ came the reply. ‘Good news is that my divorce is final and now we can elope.’

He smiled through the windshield as he checked the mirror and started the engine. ‘’Bout damn time, woman. You know I’ve been lusting for that hot cougar bod of yours.’ He’d known Lou-Ann since he was fresh out of university; when his father hired her on to replace Aunt Reba, who’d moved away to Taos to open a gallery. He was sure that without her the Vegas Chase Limo Service would have fallen apart ages ago. Certainly he couldn’t have continued the business after his father’s death without Lou-Ann’s knowledge and her sense of humour.

The woman offered a chirp of a laugh. ‘I’m yours on a silver platter, stud, but as for finding another limo driver, no dice. Sorry, sugar.’ Then she gave him the address of the first pick-up at the Elara.

He was there in 30 minutes, his thoughts still on how he could find another driver so he could back off and leave the business in someone else’s hands. In fact, he was so preoccupied that he hadn’t noticed until he got out to open the door that his client was Tanya Povic. She was dressed in hot pink shorts that could have been painted on her excellent arse and a white chemise top that did everything but advertise her gorgeous breasts on a billboard.

‘Where to, ma’am?’ He spoke around the sudden spike of guilt that made him feel like all of the people milling around at the entrance of the hotel knew that he’d fucked this woman last night and cost her a job and possibly her mother’s health. He glanced over at the valet behind the podium, who was making covert glances at Tanya’s bottom.

‘I don’t care where.’ She spoke softly, holding his gaze. ‘Just drive, and I will talk to you.’

He wanted to tell her there was nothing she could say. He wanted to tell her to get out of his limo and leave him alone, but he couldn’t, could he? Not when he was the one responsible for her situation. So he waited until she was in, then closed the door behind her and pulled out onto the road.

When they were back in traffic, he glanced at her through the rear-view mirror. ‘You all right?’

‘Of course I am not.’ Her reply was nearly a sob. ‘I don’t know what I will do.’

‘Tanya, I’m sorry, but surely you can see that I’m not able to fulfil your contract. Christ, I’m working double shifts in my own business at the moment. There’s not enough of me to go around. And really, I’m just not the kind of person who could … do what you people do.’

‘Do what you people do? You people? You mean like the prostitutes and the drug dealers and the organised crime. Those people?’ Her voice rose with each example. ‘Is that what you mean?’

‘No! Damn it, that’s not what I mean. I mean that I just don’t think I could have sex while people are watching me. That’s all.’

She leant forward in the seat. ‘You didn’t seem to mind last night in the parking lot at the Mango; in fact, your cock seemed to like it just fine.’

And damn it, in spite of himself, his cock jerked in his jeans at the mention of last night. ‘Do you have any idea what you’re asking me to do? Like I said, even if I could get away from the business to do it?’

‘I’m asking for you to be my hero and save my mother’s life. That’s what I am asking you to do, Nick.’

Jesus, the woman didn’t have a subtle bone in her exquisite body.

‘I would give you sex in exchange. You could have me whenever you wanted.’ Christ almighty, did she just offer him a modest blush? ‘Is all I have left to give you, Nick, and I am desperate.’ Her shoulders shook with a sob, then she added, ‘Turn left here.’

He did as she asked. The limo was awash in a soundtrack of soft snuffles. A glance in the rear-view mirror and he could see her dabbing at those huge, bright eyes. If he hadn’t felt like a cad already, he did now.

She swallowed back a sob that made her shoulders shake and said, ‘Now make a right at the light.’

‘Look, Tanya, I’ll talk to Elsa again. Maybe I can make her see reason. She gave me her card. I mean, I’m sure there must be some kind of arrangement that can be made under the extenuating circumstances, will that help?’

She offered him a watery-eyed smile and leant forward until her cleavage was well and truly on display in the mirror. ‘That is good, Nick. Thank you! You’re good man.’

‘Where are we going?’

‘You can drop me here,’ came the reply. ‘My apartment is very close and perhaps is best we don’t be seen together until after you talk to Elsa.’

He pulled over to the side of a well-manicured street lined in palm trees, got out and opened the door for her, refusing her offered payment. She slid her arms around his neck and her tongue into his mouth for a goodbye kiss that had him both hard and breathless by the time she pulled away.

‘Thank you, Nick. Thank you so much.’

‘I can’t promise anything, Tanya. I said I’d talk to Elsa. That’s all I can promise.’

She kissed him again and smiled up into his eyes. ‘I trust you, Nick Chase. You will do the right thing.’

Then she turned and hurried away, leaving him standing hard, breathless, and wondering what the hell he’d gotten himself into.

Back in the limo, he resisted the urge to jerk off for the outrageous third time in less than 12 hours. Instead, he pulled out his wallet and dug for the card Elsa Crane had given him. It was a black card with a pearlescent purple sheen. In the middle, printed in stylised white letters, were the words Mount Vegas. In the upper right-hand corner was a phone number and an email address.

He took a deep breath and punched the number into his BlackBerry.

Chapter Five

‘Hello?’ Nick called out softly, just in case there was some orgy going on he didn’t want to disturb. The suite seemed deserted. There was an array of dirty cups and glasses and plastic soft drink bottles on the kitchen counter and several take-out boxes on the table. The lounge was empty and quiet. In one bedroom, the bed was piled high with clothes and the floor littered with sandals and flip-flops. The other bedroom was set up with the same equipment Elsa had been in command of at the Cosmopolitan two nights ago. There were two telescopes, a couple of keyboards, and three monitors. One was blank. One focused on people scrambling around a pool. They appeared to be getting ready for a shoot. The sound was off. But it was the third that got his full attention.

‘Let me feel your pussy.’ The male voice breaking the silence made Nick jump in his tracks. As he moved closer to squint at the screen, he recognised Pike. Only this time he wasn’t dressed as Tarzan. This time he wore a pair of low-slung, faded jeans and nothing else.

‘Please,’ the woman, whose bottom was now front and centre, cried out. She was bent nearly double over a wicked-looking wooden bench, bound with leather cuffs so that her legs and her arms were spread wide. The dimly lit room was filled with ominous wooden racks, and one wall was hung with what looked like an array of whips and chains. Nick shivered.

The woman wore only stockings and a garter belt under a miniscule skirt that was pushed up to expose her whole arse. ‘Please, sir,’ she begged. The voice sounded familiar. Nick took a step closer and listened hard.

‘Please, sir, what?’ Pike demanded. He slapped her bottom hard with a riding crop and she squirmed and moaned.

‘Please, sir, fuck me,’ she whimpered.

‘Let’s just see how bad you need to be fucked, slut.’ He shoved two fingers up between her legs, and by the time Pike brought her juices to his lips to taste, Nick’s cock was paying full attention.

‘I need it bad, sir, so bad,’ the woman half sobbed.

Just as Pike thrust his juicy fingers into the mouth of his captive, the camera angle changed, and Nick’s stomach went into freefall. There, beaded with sweat, lips swollen, eyes smudged and cheeks blackened in running mascara, was Elsa Crane, licking her own juices off Pike’s hand.

‘I don’t think so, not just yet, you little whore.’ Pike gave her clearly abused butt cheeks a squeeze that made her eyes water. ‘I don’t think you’re quite there yet, and I think you need to do something for me first, don’t you?’ With one hand, he unzipped his fly; with the other, he grabbed her by the hair and yanked her mouth onto his heavy cock until she sputtered and gagged then began to suck furiously, a stream of saliva trailing down her chin.

Pike grunted and thrust, grunted and thrust, as though she was nothing more than a hole for his cock, and she kept sucking. He grabbed up the crop and brought it down against her arse, causing a muffled cry around his penis. Nick cried out along with her, sucking air between his teeth at the pain he was sure she must feel.

‘You look at me when you suck my cock, slut. Don’t close your eyes. Do you understand?’

She nodded and sucked furiously, her eyes locked on his.

No matter how much Nick wanted to run away, no matter how much he didn’t want to see Elsa like this, he stood riveted to the floor, his gaze locked on the scene unfolding in the monitor.

Pike ran the soft tip of the crop up between Elsa’s legs, and the camera angle switched to take in her wet slit, gripping and releasing at the crop’s teasing. Nick felt heat crawl up his face, and he jerked involuntarily when the man began to tap the flexible end of the crop against Elsa’s exposed pussy, Elsa squirming furiously against her bonds. With a sharp thwack, Pike brought the crop down, first on one buttock then the other, laying a criss-cross of bright pink welts over her arse in rhythm to his thrusts. ‘You’re almost ready for me, I think, slut,’ he said.

Nick’s insides squirmed with anger toward Pike and empathetic humiliation for Elsa, almost as if by watching he shared in her degradation. His head spun with a cocktail of emotions he couldn’t sort and, in spite of it all, his cock felt like it would explode in its fullness. He refused to open his fly and get some relief. Perhaps they were watching him, and even if they weren’t it felt like he deserved to suffer with his arousal unsatisfied for watching Elsa’s humiliation. In some strange way, it felt almost like watching made him responsible.

‘I’ll spank your ass and fuck your mouth until I think you’re ready, slut.’ Pike spoke in rhythm to his strikes.

Nick could see the mascara-darkened tears on Elsa’s cheeks, he could see the way she cringed and squirmed each time Pike struck her, and he wanted to look away. He wanted to tell someone to make Pike stop hurting her. Surely she didn’t like it. Surely she hadn’t asked for it. How could anyone possibly ask for it?

More than anything, he couldn’t stand the thought of Elsa Crane begging, of Elsa Crane so subdued, so why couldn’t he look away? Why couldn’t he just leave? He didn’t really owe Tanya anything, did he? Surely she was better off out of this perverted place?

‘Are you Nick Chase?’ a male voice called from behind, and Nick whirled around like he’d been caught in the act. Before he could answer, the man said, ‘You’re supposed to wait in the lounge.’ The newcomer looked like he might be Native American. Beneath the heavy headset, his black hair was caught back in a ponytail. He wore faded jeans and a Gold’s Gym muscle shirt and, from the size of his arms, he looked like he’d earned it. ‘This area’s off limits,’ he said in a voice that was a deep rumble. ‘There’s beer in the fridge, soft drinks, wine. I think there may be some pizza left. Help yourself. Elsa will be with you shortly.’

One last glance at the monitor showed Pike was now buried cock-deep in Elsa’s pussy, humping her in quick, staccato thrusts. ‘Come, you little slut –’ Nick heard him say ‘– come for me.’

In his fevered imagination, Nick could see himself shoving Pike aside and taking over. And Elsa was pleased by the switch-out.

What the hell was he thinking? This was not sex. This was crazy. This was out of control. And yet his cock ached against his fly.

Back in the lounge, he paced in front of the big window, looking across the Strip at New York New York Casino. He wasn’t interested in food or drink. He couldn’t get trussed-up Elsa Crane out of his head, or out of his groin. What the hell was the matter with him? How could what he’d just seen both repel him and make him hard? He wanted to grab Elsa and shake her and ask her why the hell she would allow Pike to do it. Shit! Worst of all, there was a part of him that wanted to take the crop from Pike and lay a few stripes across her pink, upturned bottom himself. After what Elsa had done to Tanya, she deserved a good spanking.

Jesus! What was he thinking? She didn’t deserve a spanking. He didn’t know what the fuck she deserved. He found the bathroom and splashed cold water over his burning face. What he needed was a cold shower. He absolutely would not rub one off in the john. He was ashamed he’d even consider it. He walked out into the lounge just as the door burst open and Elsa shoved through. She wore a loose-fitting sundress, her face had been wiped clean of mascara, and she walked carefully. ‘I hate you!’ she called over her shoulder to Pike, who followed her in.

‘You’re just mad because you lost the bet,’ came the reply. He was in the same jeans and now wearing an untucked denim shirt.

‘No, this time I really hate you,’ she said, rubbing her arse. ‘It was a stupid bet in the first place and –’

Both she and Pike froze when they saw Nick.

‘Ah, Mr Chase. I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long.’ Suddenly Elsa was all business. She walked to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. ‘You want something?’

He shook his head, and she turned her attention to her abuser. ‘Pike, help Horse with the pool scene.’ Then she offered Nick a smile. ‘Sorry, we’re running a few minutes late. Pike had a flat tyre on the way over.’

‘It didn’t take you long. To get here, I mean.’ Nick said. ‘Not after he finished … beating you and then had … sex with you.’ God, he sounded stupid. Why didn’t he keep his mouth shut and not say anything until it was time to talk about Tanya.

Elsa stood for a moment studying him, holding her forgotten water in her hand. Then she yelled into the bedroom, ‘Horse, did you let him watch?’

‘I was in the crapper,’ came the reply. ‘Sorry about that.’

‘Horse? Seriously?’ Nick said.

‘Yep, seriously, and yep, exactly for the reasons you’re thinking.’ She offered him a filthy smile. ‘He’s very popular with the ladies. Give me five for a quick shower and then we can talk.’ She nodded to the bedroom containing the technical equipment. ‘You can go watch the fun in the pool if you want.’

‘But I thought I wasn’t allowed?’

She smiled again. ‘Oh, you’re allowed to watch. I just didn’t want you watching me get my ass beat.’ She gave said arse another rub and disappeared into the bathroom.

Elsa really was out in five, her wet hair hanging around her shoulders in a tumble of curls. She wore a loose cotton sundress that was nearly transparent with the backlighting from the bathroom, transparent enough for him to tell she wore nothing beneath it, but no doubt her bottom would not have appreciated anything tight. She motioned him away from the lesbian scene going on in the pool at the Flamingo, closing the door on Horse and Pike.

‘We get a lot of requests for girl-on-girl action,’ she said. Then she nodded down to his cock. ‘I see you agree.’ Before he could decide whether to be offended or tell her it was none of her damn business, she went on, ‘We all agree, actually. Me, I’m always up for a little girl-on-girl fun, but from a voyeuristic point of view, I’d just as happily watch a little guy-on-guy action.’

He followed her into the lounge area and sat down on the sofa to which she nodded. She disappeared for a second and returned with a pillow from one of the beds, upon which she sat very carefully, uttering a soft curse.

‘You like getting … spankings?’

She sucked a breath between her teeth and pulled a wicked smile as she squirmed to get comfortable. ‘Not nearly as much as I like giving spankings. Why? Are you in need?’

When he failed to see the humour in her words, the smile disappeared and she eyed him for a second. ‘It was an act, Nick. We all do what we have to around here.’

‘Does Tanya do what you just did?’ he asked.

‘Yes, in fact when we have a client who wants to watch a submissive being well dominated, Tanya was our go-to girl.’

‘She likes … that sort of thing?’ he asked.

‘You sound shocked, Mr Chase. Tanya would have loved tonight’s little session in the dungeon.’

It took a second for the thought of Tanya bottom up with someone wailing on her gorgeous arse to sink in, and when his imagination sharpened the picture to include Elsa wielding the crop, Nick wished he had Elsa’s pillow to cover his bulging junk.

‘Then why did you let her go?’ The words were out before he could stop them, and his reason for being there settled his cock at least a little bit.

She shifted gently toward the control room and called out, ‘Pike, bring me my iPad.’ In almost the same breath she addressed Nick. ‘Tell me something, Mr Chase. Suppose you were to hire a driver for that position you’re trying to fill, and he was a brilliant driver, best driver ever. All of the clients loved him, he was on time, always got repeat customers – you know the kind I mean.’ She waved a hand and sipped her water. ‘But suppose this brilliant driver takes one of your limos out for a joy ride from time to time, with whoever he picks up at a bar or a casino. And in these wild forays he puts both your property and the people he’s driving at risk.’ She leant toward him and winced slightly. ‘How many times would you let him get away with it before you sent him on his way?’

‘I might view it a little differently,’ Nick said, ‘if there were a bonus in play and it was to pay for his mother’s surgery.’

Pike chose that moment to deliver Elsa’s iPad. She grabbed it from him with no thank you. He offered a bow and left, but not before Nick caught a twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth. With a few flicks of her fingers, Elsa pulled up a document and handed it to him. ‘This is the standard contract, the one Tanya signed, the one everyone who works for Mount Vegas signs. Read it.’

When he tried to push it back to her, she glared at him. ‘I said read it. Then we can talk.’

She sipped slowly on her water and watched him while he read. He let out a low whistle. ‘This is the contract she had?’

‘Yup. Housing paid for, living and clothing allowance, and a wage that I’m sure you’ll agree, Mr Chase, is way more than generous, even without the added incentive of the bonus. Yet she chose to ignore the terms of the contract – repeatedly, even though she supposedly had earmarked the bonus for her mother’s surgery.’ She nodded to the iPad. ‘Surely you can understand why the contract demands that Mount Vegas be made aware of and approve the sex partners of all those who work here?’ She gave a sweeping gesture with her hand. ‘To lessen the hardship, any person who works here is always willing to offer sex to fellow employees in need. Tanya wasn’t living like a nun, Mr Chase. You were the only one who wasn’t getting any, which is why you fell in with Tanya in the first place.’

‘It was a bad night,’ he said. ‘I hate driving at the best of times, but … It was a bad night.’

‘Well?’ They both jumped at the sound of Pike’s voice. He was standing next to the dining table with his hands on his hips. ‘Ask him.’

‘Go away, Pike,’ Elsa practically growled. ‘I’m not talking to you right now.’

‘Then I’ll do the talking.’ He came to sit in the chair across from them. ‘Tanya deserved what she got, Mr Chase, whether you believe it or not. But the deal is still on the table. If you want to finish out her contract for her, then she’ll still get her bonus, or rather you’ll get it and what the hell you do with it is your business.’

Nick looked from Elsa to Pike and back again. Elsa only shrugged.

‘I can’t fulfil her contract,’ he replied, not even attempting to hide the tremor in his voice. ‘I’m a driver short and it’s a busy time.’

‘Mr Chase –’ Elsa shifted, sucked a painful breath, and shot Pike a withering look. ‘Mr Chase, if you’ll check your BlackBerry, you’ll find an email from your dispatcher, who has received the perfect résumé from the perfect driver to fill your needs. He’s willing and ready to start work tomorrow if you need him.’

Nick fumbled his device from his pocket and, sure enough, there was a message from Lou-Ann and a résumé attached that looked like a match made in heaven. It took Nick a second to realise both Elsa and Pike were watching him. He slid the BlackBerry back into his pocket with a sweaty palm. ‘I – don’t think I could do … what you did.’ He nodded to Pike.

‘You won’t have to do what he did,’ Elsa said. ‘Fortunately, Pike’s very good in the dungeon. But –’ she held his gaze ‘– you will have to be comfortable with people watching you have sex, and with having sex with multiple partners in kinky situations.’

‘I – I don’t know if I can,’ Nick managed, but even in a situation that was electric with nervous tension, his cock strained toward Elsa.

Just then the door burst open and the two women who had been having sex in the pool came into the room, laughing about how cold the water was. They wore only thin tank tops and sarongs.

‘Beetle, Deb –’ Elsa spoke without taking her eyes off Nick ‘Mr Chase here has been watching your performance, and he’s very uncomfortable. Perhaps you could help him relax?’

The willowy redhead giggled and stepped forward. ‘Mr Chase, are you going to fulfil Tanya’s contract?’ Before he could answer, she slipped out of her top and dropped the sarong to the floor. ‘That’s worth at least a blowjob, I’d say, wouldn’t you, Beetle?’

The other woman, who was a Goth right down to her black, spiky hair and matching nails, nodded her agreement and dropped her clothes. They both stood looking expectantly at Elsa, who nodded to Nick’s crotch.

Deb, the redhead, dropped to her knees between Nick’s legs, and whatever protests he was about to utter died in his throat as she gave him a hot, wet lick through his jeans that nearly sent him into orbit.

‘Oh Jesus,’ he gasped. ‘Elsa, please. This really isn’t necessareee.’ His last word ended in a tight hiss as Deb, holding his gaze, unzipped his jeans and freed his cock into the strong squeeze and stroke of her hand.

‘Oh, I think it is, Nick Chase,’ came Elsa’s reply. ‘I think it’s very necessary. Beetle –’ she addressed the Goth ‘– introduce Mr Chase to your nipples.’

Beetle came to Nick’s side, leant over the end of the sofa, and undid his shirt with a practised hand. Just as she straddled him, offering access to small breasts with enormous, ripe-berry nipples, Deb took his erection into her mouth – all of his erection, all the way back. There was no other way to describe the sound that escaped his throat but a whimper, and not a very dignified one at that. Beetle pulled his head to her right breast to nurse, and guided his other hand down to her smoothly shaven pussy. ‘Oh Mr Chase,’ she said in a little-girl voice, ‘I’m still so wet from all the naughty things Deb did to me in the swimming pool, I hope you can help me feel better. Oooh, and your hands are so strong, and your cock … Mmm, Deb, you have to let me have a taste.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Elsa said. ‘I think you’re going to let Mr Chase push that big cock way up in your tight little snatch, Beetle. Would you like that?’

‘Ooh yes! Ooh yes, Elsa, I’d like that so much.’

Deb disengaged from her exquisite deep-throating. ‘Hey, that’s not fair, Elsa, what about me? My pussy needs fucking too.’

‘I’ll take care of you, sweetie,’ Pike said. But as he started to undo his fly, Elsa raised a hand.

‘No. You don’t get to come this time, Pike.’ She shot him a vicious half-smile. ‘I need you to man the controls. Horse!’ she called to the Native American. ‘Deb needs a good fuck.’ She turned her attention back to the crestfallen Pike. ‘Put it away, and keep it put away. You’ve had yours for tonight.’

With some difficulty, the man zipped his cock back into his jeans and stood to go, but before he did, he offered Elsa a wicked smile. ‘I still won the bet, and it was still worth spanking your ass.’

She flipped him off as he left the room, and Horse came in with his fly already open, revealing the reason for his equine nickname.

‘What do you think, Deb?’ Elsa said. ‘Will our clients like watching us play with Mr Chase’s cock?’

‘Oh yes, Elsa. He has a fabulous cock and nice, tight balls. Look how they nestle up close in all those lovely, silky boy curls.’ She gave his pubes a tickle that made him squirm against the couch.

Beetle slipped the shirt off his shoulders and ran long, black nails over his back and biceps then down his chest where she raked his nipples to torturous points. ‘And he has such a delicious body,’ she said, gripping his fingers with her tight pussy lips. ‘Please, Elsa, can we keep him?’

‘That’s entirely up to Mr Chase,’ Elsa replied.

‘I know what you’re doing, Elsa,’ Nick managed around a nibble and lick of Beetle’s engorged areola, unable to muster enough self-control to disengage from his very enjoyable task.

Elsa batted innocent eyes at him. ‘I can tell them to stop if you’d like.’

‘Please, Mr Chase.’ Beetle sighed. ‘Don’t make us stop. I so want to ride that big cock of yours, and I promise, I’ll hold on tight.’ As if to demonstrate, she gripped his fingers with powerful girlie muscles and his cock surged in Deb’s mouth, causing her to moan and lift her arse for Horse, who had slipped out of his jeans and released his enormous cock.

‘Oh pleeeze, Elsa! I can’t stand it,’ Beetle keened. ‘Please let me fuck him now.’

Elsa nodded permission. As Deb pulled away, Horse handed her a condom, which she unwrapped, and rolled onto Nick’s cock with her mouth. Jesus, he thought that only happened in porn films. She stepped back, holding her pussy lips open for Horse, who took up the position behind her. Her face alone was nearly enough to make Nick come with its mix of grimaces and smiles and concentrated biting and sucking of lips and teeth as she grunted and pushed until she was fully impaled. All the while, Horse held very still and did nothing more than guide himself home.

‘That’s a girl,’ Elsa said. ‘Horse’ll keep your tight little cunt good and busy while you watch Beetle make our Mr Chase come.’

‘Why don’t you make me come, Elsa?’ Jesus, where did he get the balls to ask that?

Beetle offered a little pout and Elsa simply smiled. ‘I’m not on the menu tonight. I’ve already had my bottom royally thrashed and my ass fucked hard. However –’ her smile turned positively evil ‘– I can have Horse do you, if you’d prefer.’

Nick held her gaze and returned her evil smile, feeling way more playful than he should under the circumstances. ‘I doubt my little asshole’s up for that tonight. And besides, Beetle here’s good and ready.’ With that, he grabbed the Goth by her hips and pulled her down onto his anxious dick.

Her grip was fist tight. He cried out and held her still, for a horrible moment fearing he’d end the show before it even began. It was only then, as he grabbed Beetle by her short, raven hair and pulled her into a hard tongue kiss that he realised he was putting on a show, and he was doing it for Elsa Crane, just like she’d planned, just like she knew he would. God, the woman was devious.

He fingered the Goth’s little beaded clit and she quivered and clenched. Once again, her tight grip demanded his full concentration to hold his wad. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see he had Elsa’s full attention. Her cheeks were flushed, her breath accelerated. Good! If she wanted a show, he’d see she got one.

He pulled away just enough to speak. ‘Your little clit’s like a rock, Beetle. Shall I stroke it for you? Oh yes, you like that, don’t you? I bet you can come as often as you’d like, can’t you?’

She bit her lip and nodded. ‘Shall I come for you, Mr Chase?’

It was Elsa who responded. ‘Oh yes do, Beetle. Your sweet pussy gets so tight and yummy when you come.’ She offered Nick an innocent smile. ‘She’ll make you feel so good, Mr Chase.’ She batted long, dark lashes at him, and he braced himself. Christ! How was he going to hold out for … For what? Just so he could impress Elsa Crane?’

‘I’m coming! I’m coming,’ Beetle gasped, raking her clit against his pubic bone and gripping his cock in a sweet, wet stranglehold that had him seeing stars and holding his breath to keep from exploding.

The wave had barely passed and he was just about to pat himself on the back for surviving round one, when Deb shouted, ‘I’m coming, oh I’m coming too. Put it in my ass, Horse. I want to feel that piece of meat up my asshole!’

Elsa leant forward and patted Nick on the bare thigh. ‘Oh, you’re gonna love this. Deb didn’t get the nickname Stretch for nothing.’

Fuck! If Nick had even had a tiny bit of his brain that wasn’t focused on his crotch, he would have closed his eyes to give himself some breathing room, but how could he possibly look away?

Deb eased herself up off Horse’s cock, and he sat back in one of the dining room chairs. Her sopping slit still convulsing in aftershocks, Deb squatted on his muscular thighs so the whole of her was splayed for Nick’s viewing pleasure. Then she shifted her hips and spat heavily on her hand. Horse did the same.

While she slathered his enormous cock, he rubbed and probed and lubed up her anus, which sucked first two, then three wriggling and scissoring fingers. Then he gripped her arse cheeks as though he would pull her apart, spreading her until Nick could see her dark, round hole dilated and ready.

Nick felt the buzz of arousal from the tips of his toes all the way to the crown of his head. His balls were approaching critical mass. And how the hell could Beetle’s grip just keep getting tighter?

‘You want to watch, don’t you, Mr Chase?’ Elsa’s voice was little more than a whisper. ‘And no matter how manly you are, and how much you like pussy, a part of you would like to know what it feels like to have your tight little asshole so used, so abused.’

Nick couldn’t manage a reply. He was pretty sure he’d totally forgotten how to speak. And anyway, Elsa already knew the answer.

Deb huffed and groaned and bit her lip in fraught concentration as she bore down, her gaping back hole swallowing Horse’s enormity centimetre by grudging centimetre, and Nick couldn’t have looked away if his life depended on it. He’d gone to shallow breathing mode. He tried desperately to think about something boring, something unsexy, anything unsexy, but his brain wasn’t having it.

‘Oh God, oh God, oh God,’ Deb chanted in tight little gasps. And Horse, still holding her arse cheeks in kneading, fisting palms, thrust up into her until the slap, slap of flesh against flesh metered the heavy breathing in the room and Deb’s chants. Horse’s balls bulged and rocked, bulged and rocked as Deb rode him. Then her chant changed to, ‘I need more, I need more, I need more!’

Fuck! How the hell could anyone possibly need more than Horse?

She slapped at the table like a wrestler tapping out when he’d been defeated, until her fingers caught on the edge of the fruit bowl, catapulting fruit in all directions. Plums and apples rolled onto the floor. Grapes smashed beneath the slap of her hand. Then her fist closed around a ripening banana. Nick’s heart lurched and his balls tensed. Dear God, surely she wouldn’t? Surely she couldn’t …?

Just then Beetle began to wail, ‘I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming!’

‘Fuck! Oh fuck!’ Nick gasped. The Goth’s grip clenched like iron bands around his erection, just as Deb shoved the banana deep in her gaping pussy.

One thrust, two and three, and she joined Beetle in a trembling chorus of, ‘I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming.’ She would have bounced off Horse’s lap but for the anchorage offered by his monster cock up her arse. Her tits bounced, her body convulsed, and Horse roared like a lion, gripping her buttocks hard enough to bruise.

Before Nick could congratulate himself for being the last man standing, he caught a glimpse of Elsa out of the corner of his eye, shifting on her cushion. The light fell against the hammering of her pulse in her throat, and he was certain she was trembling out a stealth orgasm. Why else would she shift so on her sore bottom? Why else would she suck her bottom lip so intently? Why else would her eyelids flutter and her gaze become suddenly unfocused? And it was certainly nowhere near cool enough in the room to make her shiver so hard.

He’d made Elsa Crane come. Jesus Christ, he’d made Elsa Crane come!

And that was it, he could hold his wad no longer, and he came like there was no tomorrow while Beetle crooned against his ear, ‘That’s it, Mr Chase. Come for me. Come hard. Oh, that’s so good, isn’t it, your yummy cock pumping out all that hot jizz you’ve been holding back. My oh my, we’re all gonna have so much fun together.’

Then, for a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of heavy breathing. Before anyone could do more than moan and gasp, Pike burst from the control room and handed a memory stick to Elsa, then stood back, making no attempt to hide his hard-on.

‘You got it, then?’ Elsa asked.

‘I did.’

‘Good.’ She stood carefully and handed it to Nick. ‘This is for you. A memento of tonight’s adventure. Hal Easter will show up tomorrow morning to fill your position as limo driver, and you are to report to the address on the memory stick if you want to fulfil Tanya’s contract. Because that’s the only way she’ll get her bonus.’

She bent down and brushed a fleeting kiss across his lips, grabbed up her bag, and disappeared out the door, leaving him naked and still buried to the hilt in Beetle’s wet pussy.

Chapter Six

This time, Nick barely made it past the entrance hall in the suite at the Bellagio before Elsa joined him. She was wearing a backless red sundress with her dark hair piled carelessly on top of her head. The matching heels made her calf muscles swell and flex exquisitely. The dress was not curve-hugging, but quirky and lightweight enough that he could again make out the length of her legs beneath the fabric as she stood backlit by the late afternoon sunlight streaming in the window.

His cock threatened a takeover as he recalled the way he’d seen Elsa last night, all trussed up and exposed. Even more so as he recalled her on the sofa next to him watching him fuck Beetle, watching him and acting as though she were above it all. But she wasn’t. She had come! He had watched the little sex romp featuring him and the Mount Vegas people over and over after he got home, always fast-forwarding to the shots of Elsa. Pike had made sure there were more than a few, but then he’d made sure there were plenty of shots of everyone. This wasn’t a porn film. There were no close-up crotch shots, no come shots. This was the kind of camerawork that an amateur might shoot of a voyeuristic experience. Somehow that made it all the hotter.

Perhaps Pike had chosen to integrate so many shots of Elsa because Elsa was the only voyeur in the room. Everyone else was a participant. But Nick was certain, as he played back through the shots of Elsa, that she had most definitely come. That he had been the reason for her orgasm left him feeling way more satisfied that it probably should have.

‘You’re late.’ The slight gravel in Elsa’s voice, as though she’d just got out of bed after hot sex, had his full attention and, fuck, if her head to toe inspection of him didn’t have him blushing like a schoolboy.

He stood shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot, doing his damnedest to hold her gaze. Jesus, the last thing he wanted was to come across nervous in front of the woman, but he just couldn’t help himself, not when he knew why he was here. He finally found his voice. ‘I … wasn’t sure I would come at all right up until I found myself being escorted upstairs by that big guy.’

‘Pagan.’

He nodded. ‘Does he ever … you know.’ Jesus, could he sound any stupider?

‘He does, yes. In fact he much prefers showing off for the clients over being our resident badass, but he’s good at both.’

‘Have you and he ever …?’

‘Yes, Pagan and I have fucked. In fact –’ she motioned him into the kitchen and poured them both coffee ‘– I’ll just clue you in right now, everyone here has fucked everyone else. We’ve fucked each other in just about every combination you can easily imagine, and you’ll do the same for the next two months, if you can handle it. Oh, you’ve got fabulous equipment and the makings of seriously good control, but last night was just for you, Mr Chase, not for an audience.’

‘You were watching.’ He couldn’t quite block the video of her out of his head.’

She offered him a soft chuckle and nodded him to the table, where she sat across from him. ‘Yup. That I was, but I’m a very forgiving audience.’

‘I doubt that,’ he said.

She only shrugged, then held him in her exquisite blue gaze while she sipped her coffee. ‘So you think you’re up for it, then.’

‘I … don’t want to spank you.’ Jesus! Why had he suddenly taken to speaking every word that came into his mind?

‘Good, because I don’t want you to spank me,’ she replied.

‘Then I won’t have to …’

‘Not if I can help it,’ she said. ‘Now, if you really want to do this, if you really think you’re up for it, I’ll try to bring you up to speed and answer any questions you have. But first, I have to ask, why are you doing this for Tanya? She doesn’t deserve it, you know.’

‘You’re pretty quick to judge,’ he shot back at her, feeling more wounded than he should.

‘No, Mr Chase –’ her gaze cooled ‘– I’m not quick to judge. Have you told her?’

‘Not yet. No.’

She raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. ‘I’d have thought you’d call her with the good news before the limo left the building last night.’

‘I told you, I was still deciding this morning.’ That wasn’t entirely true. He had decided before he went to bed in the wee hours, but even if he hadn’t, he just couldn’t bring himself to share what had happened last night. He was sure Tanya would have questions, questions he just didn’t want to answer. Besides, he figured he’d have to deal with her soon enough. It disturbed him he’d nearly forgotten why he was doing this until Elsa reminded him.

‘I’m sure she’ll be thrilled that you’re trying.’

‘You don’t think I can do it?’ He felt the tension in his shoulders like tight fists.

‘I’m reserving judgment.’ Her response felt like a slap in the face after last night, and he wondered if he’d made a mistake in coming back. It had never been his intention to even consider fulfilling Tanya’s contract until – until what he’d seen, what he’d done, what Elsa Crane manipulated him into.

‘You don’t want me here.’ God, he sounded like a pouty little kid.

‘If I didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t be here, Mr Chase. But being here and succeeding here are two very different things.’

She turned her attention to her iPad on the table in front of her before he could argue further. And really, what was there to argue? He wouldn’t even be here if he had half a brain. But he now had a driver so he’d no longer have to face the loathsome task of driving horny tourists around Vegas in the wee hours, and he owed Elsa for that. Christ, even in his own brain that sounded lame.

‘Do you … does Mount Vegas have offices or do you always meet in hotel suites?’ he asked, mostly to fill the stretching silence.

‘We have offices, yes. But we meet in hotel suites because they’re practical for what we get up to. In the course of the night we run anything from one to three fantasies for different clients. Sometimes we do daytime acts, but not often.’ She shrugged. ‘This is Vegas. We find the most centrally located hotel, set up the equipment and run everything from one site. The office is a much more private affair. We take care of other business there.’

‘Other business?’

‘You know – accounting, planning, organising, that sort of thing.’

He felt a nervous twitch developing just below his left cheekbone. He took a long drag at his coffee for courage and set the cup down. ‘Will you … will you train me?’

‘As much as we can in such a short time, yes. I’ve had Pike download some books and info you’ll need to help familiarise yourself with terminology and help you understand situations such as you witnessed last night with Pike and me, as well as those you’ll soon be participating in. There are several good glossaries and notes on all sorts of kink and fetish, and there’s a basic set of rules for life under contract with Mount Vegas. Most of those you’ve already seen from the outside in.’

There were so many questions he wanted to ask her about what he’d seen, but it seemed an invasion of privacy, even though he knew someone somewhere was actually watching. Someone had actually paid to watch Pike abuse her! He still couldn’t quite get his head around that. Of course he wasn’t totally ignorant of the kink that underpinned the foundations of Mount Vegas, but being aware of and actually seeing first-hand were two very different things. Beyond the privacy issue, he just couldn’t bring himself to ask the kind of questions the whole incident had evoked. He felt like a teenager, afraid to ask about sex. He’d have to get over that right quick, he figured.

‘I suppose you could say that we’re exhibitionists showing off sexually for our voyeuristic clients,’ Elsa said, ‘but we’re more just acting out for them what they want to see and setting up a way for them to watch that makes them feel like they’re sneaking a peek. The majority of what we do is pretty pedestrian. We have lots of generic watching sex in one hotel room through a scope in another. Now, thanks to Fifty Shades of Grey, we have lots of billionaire and virgin scenarios.

‘Most of what we do is without condoms. We’re all checked regularly and we’re all clean. Tanya was the only one of us who ever had sex with a partner outside the Mount Vegas team. And that’s OK as long as you let us know in advance and use protection. You understand; it’s to keep everyone safe. And with the provisions in the contract no one suffers from lack of sex.’

‘I can’t even remember the last time I had sex before Tanya.’

‘I know,’ she said. ‘I know most things about you by now, because if I didn’t I wouldn’t be considering doing this insane thing that you’ve asked me.’

The nervous twitch along Nick’s cheek went into overdrive. He tried to force it out by smiling harder. ‘That’s not really fair, is it? You knowing everything and me knowing nothing.’

She held him in a drowning-deep gaze that made his pulse jump against his throat as he struggled to meet it. ‘Oh, you know way more than nothing, Mr Chase. Way more. And you’ll know a whole lot more before the day’s over.’

‘Nick,’ he said, his voice sounding breathless and thin on the ground. ‘If we’re going to work so closely together you should call me Nick, unless I get a nickname like everyone else.’

She smiled, and he felt like the sun had just come out. ‘You have to earn your nickname, Nick.’ The play on words made them both chuckle. ‘Anyway, I like Nick. Nick is nice.’

He liked Elsa too. He liked the way it slid over his tongue like something almost too hot to taste and yet way too delicious not to.

‘Now, grab yourself some more coffee and I’ll show you how we set up and what’s going on, then Pagan’ll drive you over to one of the sites so you can see how things happen from that end.’

Nick had just got his coffee doctored when the bedroom door burst open and Pike poked his head out. ‘We’ve got problems, Elsa. You’d better come.’

Nick followed her into the designated control room. Pike gave him a nod for a greeting and turned his attention to his boss.

‘Deke’s completely lost his voice and he’s running one hell of a temperature. Pagan’s driving him to the doctor. Whatever it is he can’t pull off tonight’s act for Mrs Bromley and even if he could manage to do his part, Deb sure as hell isn’t gonna want to share the love. Horse is still in Arizona for the next two days.’ Already Pike’s eyes were locked on Nick.

‘No.’ Nick shook his head like he was trying to shake it off his shoulders and his insides plummeted into freefall. ‘No, I’ve not had any training. I’m not prepared.’

Elsa looked him up and down. ‘You’ll be involved in a fairly pedestrian fantasy. It doesn’t take any special skills. No spanking or getting spanked.’

‘There’s nobody else,’ Pike said. ‘Mrs Bromley’s one of our best paying customers. We can’t postpone her big night.’

‘You’re already comfortable with Deb,’ Elsa said, ‘so it wouldn’t be like being with a total stranger, though that’s what you need to make Mrs Bromley believe.’

‘I’d be more comfortable with you,’ Nick blurted before he could stop himself.

She offered him a smile that went straight to his crotch. How the hell could she do that? And why the hell was it her he wanted to be with when she was the cause of him being in this mess in the first place? ‘I’m involved in another act, Nick. I wouldn’t be able to get back in time to perform with you, but Pagan will be in charge of the control room, so you’ll be in good hands.’

‘Why can’t Pagan star in Mrs Bromley’s fantasy then, instead of me?’

‘Can you run the controls on three fantasies?’ Her gaze suddenly went from sexy to stern.

‘No, but –’

‘Then you either do Mrs Bromley’s fantasy or you take up Pike’s role in the dungeon, and we’ve already discussed that, haven’t we?’

‘Yes, but –’

‘Look, Nick –’ she thrust her hands onto her hips ‘– do you want to do this or not? It won’t get any easier, and putting it off until tomorrow, which is the biggest grace period I can give you, isn’t going to make it better. Now, are you in or are you out?’

Nick looked from Elsa to Pike, who stood looking at him expectantly, and back to Elsa again, whose expression was now unreadable. The room felt too hot. He hadn’t even had a chance to peruse the basic rules and regulations for Mount Vegas let alone study terminology and kinks and fetishes he might have to deal with. He should walk away. Hell, he should run, fast and far. Instead, he took a deep breath from under tight shoulders. ‘All right. What do I have to do?’

Pike smiled broadly. Elsa only offered a neutral nod. It was Pike who replied. ‘You’ll be playing a wealthy businessman who’s been gambling into the wee hours. You always stay in the same suite because it has a scope, and you like to watch the action in the other rooms. You know exactly which rooms have all the kink and when the fun begins.

‘Deb is the hotel maid, Beth. Since you’re out late gambling, she cleans your room late so she can look through your scope and have a diddle. You return early and catch her mid-diddle.’

‘And?’ Nick asked.

‘Well, that’s it,’ Pike replied. ‘Imagine you’re the rich businessman returning to your room from a night of winning at blackjack. You come back expecting to indulge your voyeuristic desires and find your scope already occupied by a very voluptuous, very horny hotel maid who, if you report her, will get her ass fired. What would you do?’

‘As the rich businessman, not Nick Chase,’ Elsa added.

‘I got that,’ Nick said.

‘Rely on Deb to help you if you get stuck. Keep in mind, she’s a horny little maid, and she’ll do anything to keep from getting fired.’ Elsa batted her eyes. ‘Anything to show her gratitude for you keeping her secret. Get him over to wardrobe,’ she said to Pike. ‘He’s broader in the shoulders than Deke is, and the tux has to make him look like James Bond, not Farmer Frank in his Sunday best. I’ll take over here.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Now hurry up. Time’s wasting.’

As Nick stood in front of the three-way mirror being measured and fitted for a tux that even he had to admit looked fucking good on him, he wondered how the hell he was going to pull this off. He had a sudden, vivid flash of Elsa rocking on her wounded arse against the pillow, quietly trembling out her orgasm as she watched him do Beetle. He had made her come, and without even touching her. That was at least a little boost to his ego. Then it hit him; that was the way he’d get through this nightmare. He’d go about the whole experience as though Elsa Crane were watching him, as though she were on the other end of the telescope with her fingers in her panties, strumming her clit and darting in and out of her pussy. And suddenly his trousers were tented and he was in danger of staining them properly before he even got to Mrs Bromley’s fantasy.

Chapter Seven

‘Mr Garland has agreed to an earlier start for his fantasy,’ Elsa said. ‘That way I can be back here and –’

‘And what?’ Pike interrupted. ‘You can’t suddenly take over for Deb.’

‘No, but I’ve sent Pagan to wardrobe and got him suited up for the businessman role. That way if I get back in time I can take over the control boards and he can do Mrs Bromley’s fantasy instead of Nick.’

‘She won’t like it,’ Pike said. ‘You know she’s not keen on body-builder types.’

‘Maybe I can give her a discount. Surely she would be amenable to that.’

‘Why don’t you just have a little faith in Nick and let him get on with it? He’s with Deb right now, and they’re walking through the act. Besides, you know Deb; she’s pulled more than a few disastrous acts back from the brink.’

‘How can I have faith in him when I know his motives?’ Elsa paced in front of the monitors, already dressed in the corset and feather boa that she was supposed to masturbate her way out of. Mr Garland had paid top dollar for the fantasy, and the space they’d rented looked identical to the dressing rooms of a burlesque show. Thankfully, the man was as anxious to get on with the performance as she was.

Pike was dressed in his jeans and the flip-flops he’d remove when he got to the dungeon, where Beetle would be waiting for him. He was lucky Elsa was talking to him at all. When she was forced to do a dungeon scene with him, as long as her arse stung from his spanking, or any other part of her body was any worse for the wear, she usually snubbed him. But this was too important. ‘You saw the way he was last night. I think the guy’s a natural exhibitionist. He just doesn’t know it yet.’

‘What?’ she said. ‘Are you that attracted to him?’

‘Of course I’m attracted to him. So are you. So’s everyone else, and the way he came to bat for Tanya sure hasn’t lost him any brownie points. I mean, we all like Tanya. We all wanted her to stop fucking up and complete her contract. Nick Chase basically did what the rest of us wish we could do. Even you, Elsa.’

‘Don’t tell me what I wish, Pike. You don’t know what I wish.’

‘Elsa, you gave the woman four chances. I know what you wish. And Nick Chase is the solution to our Tanya problem.’

She nodded down to the monitor that now showed the empty hotel room where very shortly Nick Chase would discover Deb, the hotel maid, rubbing one off behind his scope. ‘You really think he can handle this?’

‘I do.’

‘For two months?’

Pike’s lips curled into the mischievous smile that Elsa could never stay truly mad at. ‘I think he’ll not only stick it out for the two months, but I think he’ll want in as a permanent member of the team after.’

‘Whatever he does after two months is not my concern right now, Pike.’ She looked up as Pagan came into the room dressed in shorts and a muscle shirt with a garment bag slung over his shoulder. ‘I’ve given this a lot of thought and I think he’s probably right. We probably are pushing him a little too hard. Now I gotta go, but I’ll be back as soon as I can to take over for Pagan.’ She turned and left the room.

When he was sure Elsa was gone, Pike laid a hand on Pagan’s shoulder. ‘I have an idea, but I need your help. I need to give Mrs Bromley a quick call. Then I’ll fill you in on the details.

When it was all sorted, Pagan heaved a sigh that made him look like his chest was a giant muscle-shaped balloon inflating. ‘Elsa won’t like it.’

‘I know,’ Pike answered. ‘But the blame’ll be on me, and after last night in the dungeon, she’ll feel a whole lot better if she can lay into me. Anyway, Nick can do the job, and if he’s going to fulfil Tanya’s contract, let him get on with it, I say.’

Nick got the heads-up from Minnie in wardrobe, who was leaning over him fussing with his hair when her BlackBerry rang. She did nothing but listen for a couple of seconds, grunted affirmation, then hung up. ‘Mrs Bromley’s wanting to start 15 minutes early. Seems she’s anxious to gaze upon your studliness.’ She made another pass of shimmying fingers through his hair. ‘Well, you’re as ready as you’re ever gonna get, but I’m recommending to Elsie that you get a haircut. There’s only so much I can do.’

Nick didn’t mind 15 minutes early. It was better than standing around stewing in his nerves while he waited.

Minnie was giving him the final inspection in front of the three-way mirror when the BlackBerry rang again. She picked it up, listened and then said, ‘He’s on his way.’ She looked up at him and offered a motherly smile. ‘You’ll do great, Nick. Now go make Mrs Bromley squirm.’

By now, Deb would be looking through the scope with the front of her black maid’s blouse unbuttoned enough to get to her nice rack. One hand would be assaulting an exposed nipple while the other would have shoved aside the crotch of her panties under her hiked skirt, and Mrs Bromley would be getting an eyeful. It wasn’t quite as well choreographed as all that. Mrs Bromley was a voyeur, which gave some leeway to improvise. Deb confided that Mrs Bromley liked her men a little shy and bumbling. Well, that part he wouldn’t have to pretend at, would he?

As the elevator opened, for a split second Nick had the urge to push the down button and run. But then he thought of Elsa watching him, and he took a deep breath and moved forward.

The card key clicked in the lock and, with a sweaty palm, he pushed the door open. He knew where Deb was in the room, he knew what she was doing. But he took his time, shed his jacket and tie, and unbuttoned and untucked his shirt. Humming softly to himself, he slipped off his shoes and socks. He was, after all, planning a good wank in front of his scope, and he wanted to be comfortable. He wanted Elsa – and Mrs Bromley, anticipating what would happen when he discovered the naughty maid in his hotel suite. At the bar, still standing with his back to where he knew Deb was, he poured two fingers of Glenfiddich into a cut crystal tumbler and, after a sip that really wasn’t more than touching it to his lips, he turned for the encounter. Deb let out a little squeal of surprise, and with way more ease than he would have thought possible, Nick found his voice.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’

‘What the hell is he doing there?’ Elsa growled.

Pagan offered her a guilty look and stepped back from the monitor. ‘Mrs Bromley decided to start her fantasy 15 minutes early.’

‘Jesus!’ She pushed him aside and shoved forward, ignoring the image of Pike inserting ever larger dildos into Beetle’s pussy while the woman squirmed and moaned helplessly from where she was tied spread-eagled to the bondage bed. Elsa’s focus was totally on Nick. He looked positively edible with his white shirt undone and untucked to expose the open button of his tux trousers, which rode low, just above his bronze pubic curls. Elsa’s pussy clenched at the sight, and when he spoke, she nearly gushed in her panties.

‘You’re supposed to clean my suite, not play with your pussy while you watch my neighbours fucking. That is what you were doing, isn’t it?’ Before Deb could do more than whimper, Nick moved closer and slid a hand between her legs. Deb’s eyelids fluttered and she gasped. ‘Whatever they’re doing across the way must be pretty damned good to make your little snatch so slippery.’

Elsa and Pagan gasped in unison as Nick gave her pussy a hard finger-thrusting. Deb bit her lip and quivered all over.

‘You know, I could have you fired for this,’ Nick said. There was a slight growl in his voice, as though he suddenly spoke from a place deeper inside his chest. The sound of it went straight to Elsa’s pussy.

‘Oh please don’t, Mr Smith. I need this job.’ Deb laid on a thick Southern drawl. ‘Honestly, I’ve never done anything like this before. I don’t know what came over me. Please. I’m putting my baby sister through school back in Dallas. I can’t let her down. Please Mr Smith –’ she batted her eyelashes and shifted on his fingers ‘– I’ll do anything. Anything you ask.’

‘What were they doing over there –’ he paused long enough to look down at her nametag ‘– Beth? What were they doing?’

‘The guy was licking the woman … down there, and his thing! My oh my, it’s a whopper.’

‘Do you think he’s about to fuck her?’

‘Oh yes, Mr Smith. I’m pretty sure.’

‘Then come on, you don’t want to miss anything, do you?’ Nick pulled his fingers from Deb’s pussy and licked them, then gave her a little push until she stood once again in front of the scope. When she was bent over, looking through the eyepiece, he moved in close behind her and lifted her skirt. He yanked the crotch of her panties over one buttock and cupped her arse, his thumb sliding along her crack and stroking until she shivered and moaned. ‘Here’s what’s going to happen, Beth. You’re going to watch our horny neighbours and you’re going to give me all the juicy details.’ He thrust a hard finger into her pussy and she yelped. ‘If you don’t want me to tell your superiors what I found you doing in my room, you’re going to talk dirty enough to make my cock so hard –’ he twisted her arm around behind until her palm rested on the bulge in his trousers ‘– that all I have to do is shoot my wad up your sopping wet cunt.’ He nibbled her ear. ‘Or maybe I’ll fuck your tight little asshole, Hmmm? Would you like that?’ With his thumb, he stroked her anus. She quivered all over and wriggled back tighter against his probing. ‘Mmm, I can tell you would, you naughty thing, you. Now what are they doing?’

‘Oh Mr Smith, this is so embarrassing. Please don’t make me say it.’

‘Say it –’ he reached around and squeezed her tits hard ‘– or you’ll be needing another way to pay for your sister’s education.’

Deb whimpered and pressed closer to the eyepiece. ‘He’s … he’s licking her … down there and, oh dear lord, he’s got two fingers up her … you know.’

‘Up her what, Beth? Use the word. Tell me where he has his filthy fingers.’

Back in the control room, Pagan stroked himself through his trousers. ‘Jesus, boss, you were worried about him not being able to do the job?’ he gasped.

Elsa shushed him and pulled up a chair in front of the monitor just as Nick, with incredible grace, kicked Deb’s legs apart and stepped in closer, rubbing his still clothed hard-on up against her exposed pussy. Deb shoved her arse back against him and he thrust so hard that the scope nearly went over. ‘You want that, Beth? You want my cock in your tight little cunt? Where are the man’s fingers?’

‘Up her … up her bottom.’

‘Say it, Beth.’ He gave her a shake. ‘You’re not in Dallas any more.’

‘Up her asshole!’ she said with a sob.

‘That’s it, Beth, say the words. I want your mouth to be as filthy as your little pussy, because I like to fuck a filthy mouth as much as I do a filthy snatch. Now tell me what else they’re doing, and don’t say it like some tight-ass Sunday School teacher.’

‘Oh my, for mercy’s sake! He’s licking at her … asshole and she’s wiggling and bouncing on the bed back against his tongue, and his thing … Oh, for heaven’s sake! Mr Smith, he’s going to put his thing, I mean his … cock up her … asshole, but I don’t know how he’s going to do it. He’s so big. Oh dear lord in heaven, Mr Smith, he’s doing it up her ass.’

‘Doing what, Beth? Tell me what he’s doing.’

‘He … he’s f-fucking her back there. He’s fucking her up her ass!’

Elsa held her breath as Nick dry-humped Deb through his tux trousers, his other hand working on her blouse, opening it far enough to slip his palm inside and fondle.

‘I want to see your tits, sugar. Take off your shirt.’

Deb quickly dispatched with the rest of the buttons and shimmied out of her blouse. Before she had it completely off, Nick unhooked her bra and ran his hands around to cup her breasts. ‘Very nice,’ he moaned. ‘Beautiful tits. Turn around, hon, I want to see your tits.’

‘But what about the neighbours?’ Deb said.

‘I think we’ve seen enough of the neighbours for a while, and now, my naughty little maid, I think it’s time you let them see you.’

‘What?’

‘Come.’ Nick took her hand and pulled her to stand in front of the huge window. At first, they both stood in profile with Nick cupping and stroking Deb’s breasts. ‘I bet my scope isn’t the only one in these hotels here. What do you bet, Beth?’

‘No, Mr Smith. Please, I don’t want them to see me.’

‘I don’t care what you want, sweetheart. You owe me, remember?’

He bent and, starting with her nipples, gave each of her breasts a lapping tongue bath that had Deb gasping and shifting her hips and had Elsa doing her own little lap dance against the chair. As for Pagan, Elsa wasn’t sure he was even coherent, he was so aroused.

Then, in a move that had everyone gasping, Nick turned Deb and shoved her up against the window. She squealed and then moaned at the feel of the cold glass. Then he moved in close behind her. ‘Now, my darling, let’s us give those neighbours something to watch, shall we?’

With Deb’s upper body pressed tight against the window, Nick unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor. Then he tugged the crotch of her panties up between her labia, making her shift onto her tiptoes with a gasp, before he pulled them completely off.

‘And now that you’ve shown off those gorgeous tits, I think it’s time you showed everyone just what a filthy little pussy you have, don’t you?’

Nick turned her around again and rearranged and adjusted until she was bent over, open-legged, with her pout splayed right up tight against the glass. ‘You have such a filthy little cunt, don’t you, hon?’

She offered only a sob and a nod.

‘Say it!’ He pinched a nipple hard and she yelped.

‘I have a filthy little c-cunt,’ she whimpered.

Back in the control room, Pagan unzipped his fly, and Elsa didn’t try to stop him. She was using all the self-control she had to keep her fingers out of her panties.

‘There now,’ Nick said. ‘That wasn’t so hard, was it? And while everyone is enjoying the view of your naughty little snatch, I think I’ll take full advantage of that dirty mouth of yours.’ He pulled out his cock and shoved it, without preamble, into her mouth. She cried out, gagged slightly, then began to suck like it was her life’s ambition. Nick curled his fingers in the back of her hair and pulled her on and off as though she were nothing more than a fuck toy.

‘God, I hope he knows what he’s doing,’ Elsa said. ‘They’re only halfway through. He’s gotta hold his wad for at least a little longer.’

Just then, Pike and Beetle rushed into the room. ‘Holy shit,’ Beetle managed.

‘Sonovabitch,’ Pike added. ‘That’s sizzling.’

On the monitor, Nick pulled away and turned Deb back so that her tits were once again splayed against the window. ‘Is your cunt wet?’ he said, fingering in between her pussy lips. ‘Because I want to fuck you now, so I need you to tell me.’

‘Yes,’ she gasped, her breath fogging the window. ‘Yes, my cunt is wet.’

‘And what do you want me to do about that?’

‘I want you to fuck me. I want you to fuck my pussy,’ she cried. ‘Please.’ She opened her legs wider and pushed her hips back, and Nick shoved into her and began to thrust.

Deb was close, Elsa could tell from the way she held her breath, from the way she bore down on Nick’s cock. Then Nick grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head sideways and back so he could kiss her hard on the mouth. ‘You don’t get to come until I say you can come, Beth. You were a very naughty maid and naughty maids come last and then –’ he gave a hard thrust that made her gasp ‘– then only if they’re good.’

Her breasts thud, thud, thudded against the safety glass as he fucked her. She practically went through the roof when his arm snaked around her waist and between her legs. His laugh was positively wicked. ‘I found your stiff little clit, hon, and believe me, it wasn’t hard to find.’ He tweaked it, and she groaned. ‘Does it make you want to come when I rub it like this and pinch it?’

Deb was too far gone to do more than nod and gasp for breath.

‘Well, maybe I’ll let you come after I’ve shot my wad, and it’s one helluva wad, sweetheart. I’ve been saving it up, looking forward to my time with the scope, but you invaded my privacy, didn’t you?’ He withdrew his hand and fondled her breasts, thumbing her nipples until she sobbed in frustration. ‘I’m not in any real hurry, sugar. I could hold my wad and tease you all night. What do you think?’

‘Oh please, Mr Smith. Pleeaase! I need to come sooo bad!’

Deb could be over the top sometimes, but Elsa was pretty sure the need at this moment was genuine. Hers certainly was.

Nick nibbled Deb’s neck, then began again with her clit. ‘All right, darlin’. I’m not a cruel man. And I’ve always believed in ladies first. But then you’re not a lady, are you, Beth?’ She shook her head wildly and Nick laughed. ‘Never mind. It’s all right. I don’t think that little puss of yours can take much more, so it’s OK if you come. In fact, I want you to come with me.’

In the control room, the only sound was heavy breathing. Elsa didn’t have to look to know all of her colleagues were masturbating. But she held herself. This wasn’t her fantasy. This wasn’t what she wanted to do with Nick, and even as she watched, knowing that she would come too before his little performance was done, her own Nick Chase fantasy was unfolding in her head.

The silence was broken by Deb keening at the top of her lungs, ‘I’m coming, I’m coming!’ It was easy to tell Nick was about to follow suit, but just as he reached the point of no return, he roared like a lion, pulled his cock from Deb’s still convulsing snatch, and shot his wad up her back and across the picture window in huge, arching spurts.

‘Jesus,’ Pike managed just before he jizzed into a handful of tissue.

Beetle was trembling out her orgasm in spastic jerks and gasps, and Pagan grunted his load into the trashcan at the end of the dressing table.

Elsa sat very still, feeling the tremors pass through her pussy and climb up her spine again and again. She sat with her eyes locked on Nick Chase, who had now dropped to his knees, his shoulders heaving for breath, his cock still gripped in his hand as Deb slid down the window like she was made of Jell-O.

Then Pagan stumbled back to the keyboard. ‘All right, Nick, Deb, you’re clear.’ He spoke into the mic, gulping air like he’d just run a marathon. While the sounds of zipping and tucking filled the room, he turned his attention back to the control centre and busied himself checking the recordings that were a part of each paying client’s package.

‘Wow,’ Beetle said, ‘I think all of us are gonna want a copy of that little number, Pagan.’

‘I’m already on it,’ the big man called over his shoulder.

Just then, Elsa’s BlackBerry rang. She answered, and her pulse went into overdrive.

‘Hi Elsa, it’s Rita here. Edward and I are still recovering from your Mr Chase’s fantastic debut. My God, he’s a hot one!’

‘You saw it?’ Elsa managed.

‘We more than saw it; we had a hot little session of our own while we watched. He’s definitely a keeper.’

‘You were watching?’ Elsa repeated.

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. ‘Sorry about that. It was a very last minute request, but Pike said he was sure you wouldn’t mind.’

Elsa glared at Pike. ‘Pike is just so helpful, isn’t he?’ She ground her teeth. ‘I’m glad you enjoyed it, Rita.’

There was another pause. ‘Elsa, whatever you do, don’t let Nick Chase get away. He’s exactly the kind of man you need … the kind of person Mount Vegas needs to strengthen its ranks.’

Elsa nodded dumbly.

‘Look, sweetie, I have to go,’ Rita said. ‘Totally starving after that little performance. I’ll Skype you tomorrow.’

Before Elsa had time to question Pike, the door burst open and Nick and Deb blew in. Deb was practically bouncing off the wall with excitement. As Elsa stood to greet them, Deb threw her arms around her boss and hugged her tight. ‘Did you see? It was amazing. Nick was amazing, wasn’t he?’ Before Elsa could answer, Deb was hugging everybody else in turn, leaping onto Pike and wrapping her shorts-clad legs around his waist to get a more effective bear-hug.

When Deb finally settled with both feet on the ground, Elsa turned her gaze to Nick. ‘Yes, he truly was.’

Deb barely heard her. She kissed Nick hard on the mouth, then gave him a giggly bear-hug. ‘You were amazing, Nick. We were both amazing, Mr Smith,’ she said in her thick Southern drawl. Then she smacked her lips. ‘I feel like I swallowed the desert. I need hydration.’

She waltzed off to the kitchen for a bottle of water, leaving Nick and Elsa standing practically nose to nose. In a move that was fast and hard, Nick pulled Elsa into his arms, forcing a little grunt of air from her throat before he took her mouth, and it wasn’t a thanks-boss-glad-you-liked-my-work sort of kiss. He pulled her whole body against him, running his large palm up under her loose shirt to stroke her back, and fuck if his hands weren’t calloused, just like in her fantasies. Any semblance of professionalism she tried to maintain between herself and Nick Chase went out the window as she threw her arms around his neck and returned his kiss. His inquisitive tongue explored her mouth, and she returned the favour, pressing herself up tight and close to the rumpled trousers he still wore, trousers that couldn’t disguise his very interested hard-on.

‘Mmnm,’ he moaned into her mouth, his hands finding their way down inside the waistband of her shorts to cup her bottom, resulting in a harsh intake of breath and a flinch. ‘Sorry. Forgot you’re tender down there,’ he said, and his groping became stroking with his fingertips just grazing her cleft.

She was on her toes, the very tips of them, in an effort to get up high enough for him to make contact with her ache. The undulation of his body was proof that it was exactly that contact Nick was aiming for, and at the moment, he didn’t seem to care that they were very much the centre of attention.

Deb returned to the room and offered a little sigh of surprise at their antics. They’d had group sex before; there was nothing they hadn’t done to each other and seen each other do. It was the nature of the job they did, and yet, being held by, being kissed and fondled by Nick Chase felt way more intimate than anything Elsa could ever remember feeling.

Somehow he had shoved and groped up her shirt until her breasts pressed hard-nipple tight against the muscular rise and fall of his chest. With a hand that had a mind of its own, she battled several unruly shirt buttons to expose him enough that flesh touched flesh – hot, needy, oxygen-starved flesh and, Christ, she’d never felt anything like it! She’d forgotten the two of them weren’t alone. Even if she remembered, it didn’t matter. Her hand slid low to caress the path of soft down under his navel. She wriggled her fingers into the gaping waistband of his trousers until they brushed his tight pubic curls, until the thick base of his cock tightened still further against her touch. He grunted as though she had punched him, shoving and thrusting to get closer to her hand.

‘Elsa.’ He whispered her name into her mouth. ‘Oh God, Elsa. I want … I want …’

And she wanted too. She wanted what she’d never had before, what she didn’t even have words for. But for a hot, tense moment of clarity, she was sure whatever it was, Nick Chase could give it to her.

And then Pike broke the spell.

‘Get a room, you two. You’re making the rest of us jealous,’ he said.

Elsa couldn’t help herself. She pulled away from Nick in an effort that would have been wrenching but for the knot of anger spurring her on. She turned on Pike and grabbed the front of his T-shirt in a tight fist, pulling him close to her. ‘If you ever, ever go over my head like that again, Pike, when I’m finished with you, I’ll make what you do in the dungeon seem like a waltz in the park.’

‘Oh come on, Elsa, it was the right thing, and you know it. Besides, you were already starting your act when Rita Holly called, so you can’t blame me for that.’ Pike’s mistake was not quite being able to wipe the smile off his face.

‘I didn’t ask for your opinion, and we’ll discuss this in my office in the morning.’ Then she turned and walked out of the room, walked out of the suite, walked out of the hotel.

Nick turned to follow her, but Beetle grabbed his arm. ‘Trust me, you don’t want to catch up with her right now. Give her a little chance to cool down.’

Chapter Eight

The slap, slap, slap of Victor’s balls against Tanya’s bottom, his tense grunts and the way that he grabbed at her hips told her that he was near to his climax. She wished that he would hurry up and just get it over with. She was bent over the end of the dressing table with the red silk négligée up over her butt. He’d got bored with tugging at her clit, which was just as well because she was pretty bored with it too. She glanced down at her watch. She was always proud that she had the ability to come any time she wanted, but she wasn’t so good at it when she was under a threat. Threats were not at all arousing, so she found herself doing something that she seldom had to do. She found herself faking her orgasm.

‘Oh, I’m coming, Victor! I’m coming! Is so good, so good,’ she cried out with all of the enthusiasm she could muster. At the moment she was pretty sure Victor wouldn’t care one way or the other if she was coming, but a little stroking of the man’s ego was good idea under the circumstances. She knew the man didn’t mind slapping women around when he was in a bad mood.

‘Of course you’re coming, you little bitch,’ he said. Then he grunted his load into her pussy as though his balls were busting. He had barely finished his coming before he pulled out and went into the bathroom. She tidied herself and poured two glasses of red wine. At the moment she would have rather had vodka – lots of it – but it was best to keep her wits. She could hear him pissing. He was a pig really, and he was a lazy fuck. He didn’t bother with finesse. Perhaps she wouldn’t have even known the difference if she hadn’t fucked so many men who were really good in bed, and who treated her with respect.

She heard the toilet flush, then the water in the sink was running. Around the edge of the bedroom door, she could see one of his colleagues watching porn on her television. Victor wouldn’t like that. A man wasn’t at his best with the hard cock, Victor would say. But she didn’t care. The man was nothing to her. All she wanted was to get Victor off her back and out of her flat. She glanced back at the bathroom door and then found her iPhone and pulled up the text that Nick Chase had sent.

Have agreed to finish out your contract. My first act is tonight. Will be in touch.’

It was very impersonal from the man who had agreed to take on such a big responsibility, but then they had only ever fucked once, and she was amazed that he would even consider fulfilling her contract under the circumstances. She had never expected him to, and she had never expected Elsa to agree that he could do this thing. There was no doubt Nick Chase was her hero, but heroes often got themselves killed, and Nick was a nice man, too nice for the situation. She would make sure to reward him the next time that she saw him.

She checked her watch again. She was worried about how everything was going with Nick. There was still no message about how the act had gone. Nick was a very good lover, but she thought he was very conservative. She couldn’t imagine him to be involved in any of the Mount Vegas acts. Such things would not be easy for him to do, but do them he must if he would fulfil her contract. And those things worried her very much considering that Victor knew about Nick already, even before they knew if he could do this thing or if he would try.

It was a text from Pagan that put her mind at ease, at least a little bit. It said Nick’s a natural, T! Don’t worry about your bonus. If anyone can get it for you, he can.

The flood of relief she felt was tempered by the disappointment that Nick hadn’t told her himself. But then he was probably worried that he wouldn’t be able to do it and he didn’t want to tell her until after, just in case.

‘Well? Any news about our boy?’

Tanya jumped, startled at the sound of Victor so close to her. She was so caught up in her thoughts that she had not heard his return. He took up one of the glasses of wine and drained it, then nodded to the iPhone in her hand.

‘He has done very well. The bonus will be secured, just as you asked.’

Victor sat down on the bed next to her and gave her a hard kiss that tasted of wine and the cigars that he always smoked. He reached inside the front of her robe to play with her breasts, squeezing them like they were sponges full of water that he needed to wring out.

‘Well, that’s a start, sweetheart; that should take care of the interest you owe me. And now we can talk about the principle.’

‘Interest?’ She slapped his hand away. ‘You didn’t say anything about any interest, Victor. You didn’t say that there would be interest.’

He shoved his hand back into her robe and pinched her nipple hard enough to make her yelp. ‘This is Vegas, Tanya. What did you think, just because you entertained me with your slippery little cunt I’d make an exception for you after I put myself out so to pay off your gambling debts?’ He gave a nasty giggle. ‘Come to think of it, I did make an exception.’ He curled his fingers in her hair and yanked her close. ‘You’re still alive, aren’t you?’

Tanya held very still so Victor’s grip wouldn’t hurt so bad, but really, the pain was nothing compared to the fear. ‘How do you expect me to get more than the money from my bonus?’ she managed without crying.

He kissed her ear. ‘Well, I’d say for starters you’d better get that pretty little head of yours thinking and make sure Nicky-boy can’t keep his cock away from your hungry snatch. Once you have him between your legs, I’m sure he’ll tell you everything we need to know in order to bring Elsa Crane and her empire down. Then all we have to do is set our little plan in motion.’

‘I don’t know how much he will know,’ she said, trying to keep from trembling. ‘That all depends on how close he can get to Elsa.’

He took her face in his hands and kissed her hard, so hard that she felt like she couldn’t breathe. And then he bit her lip, and his eyes were hard and cold when he looked at her. ‘It’s simple, really. You’ll just have to make sure he’ll do anything for you; even get close to Elsa Crane. And once you’ve helped me bring down the woman, then I’ll consider your debt paid in full.’ He squeezed her chin hard between his thumb and forefinger. Then he kissed her again and left her sitting there on the bed, trembling.

She listened for the door to her flat to close. And then she drank the other glass of wine to help her to calm her nerves. And when she had pulled herself together, she called Nick Chase.

‘Hello?’ When he answered she could hear that his voice was breathless and full of expectation.

‘Nick, this is Tanya calling. I wanted to call and say to you how thankful I am for all that you have done for me. Pagan said that it was good?’

‘Oh hi, Tanya.’ Was it disappointment she heard in his voice? This was not what she wanted to hear.

‘Was good? No?’

‘Oh yes. It was good. It went really well. I wasn’t sure I could do it, but it was OK. It was all right.’

‘Am I interrupting something? I know sometimes the party goes on after the act is finished, to help everyone to relax.’

‘Oh … no. No party. I’m just tired.’

‘Then … you are at home?’

‘Yes. At home.’

‘Nick, you are my hero for doing this thing. You know this, yes?’

‘Yes, I mean no. I mean I’m not a hero, Tanya. I’m just doing the right thing.’

‘You are special man, Nick Chase,’ she said. ‘I would like very much if you would come to my place and let me show you how much I appreciate.’

There was silence that lasted long enough she was afraid their connection had been lost. ‘Nick? Are you there?’

At last he spoke. ‘That’s very tempting, Tanya, but not tonight. I have a lot to think about, and I’m afraid I wouldn’t be good company. Plus I’m really tired.’

‘Of course. I understand. Is often exhausting doing the work for Mount Vegas. It will be good if you get some rest, my darling, and then we will speak later.’

She hung up, feeling not so certain and much more desperate. If the man was willing to fulfil her contract so that she could get the bonus, then it would only be reasonable that he liked her very much, and right now, after Victor’s little revelation, she needed him to like her very much. But he acted like he didn’t care for her. She stood and paced the floor of her bedroom. She would have to do something and do it very soon. Victor was not a patient man. But what to do was not so clear.

Nick laid his BlackBerry down on the nightstand. He sat on the edge of his bed with a towel still wrapped around his hips from the shower. He felt more disappointed than he cared to admit that it was Tanya who had called him instead of Elsa – Elsa who had been in his arms, so responsive, so ready he could almost taste her need; Elsa who had nearly climbed him and rode him right there in front of the whole Mount Vegas team. And he would have welcomed her. Elsa who had then turned just like that and left.

Damn the woman! He just didn’t understand her. Sometimes he wasn’t even sure he liked her, and yet even as sexy as Tanya and Beetle and Deb all were, as soon as he met Elsa Crane, she was all he could think about. It made no sense. After she’d left without so much as a see you later, he had declined the offers of the rest of the team to go out for a late dinner and then back to Pike’s place to enjoy the hot tub. He was sure the offer included plenty of sex with whomever he wanted, but it was Elsa he wanted. The possibility of being with her after the act had helped him get through the evening. It wasn’t that he pretended Deb was Elsa. He couldn’t begin to imagine Elsa as a hotel maid. What he wanted from his leading role in Mrs Bromley’s fantasy was to be solely responsible for her orgasm. He wanted to make Elsa Crane come.

He pushed up from the bed and made his way to the kitchen. For the course of the time he’d spent in front of Mrs Bromley’s scope, he felt as though he had expanded beyond himself, as though he might have truly experienced himself for the first time. In all of his wildest fantasies he could have never imagined doing what he’d done tonight. And now, after what had happened with Elsa, he felt as though someone had given him a harsh shove back into his own skin, which no longer seemed to fit quite right.

He pulled a beer from the refrigerator along with a slice of cold pizza from yesterday. Still wrapped in his towel, he walked out onto his deck and peered into the brightness of the night sky. He was always stunned at the view of the stars, at just how many were visible in the clear desert darkness. He ate the pizza without tasting it, then slipped back into the house and back into his bedroom. He’d never be able to sleep, he was sure. So he grabbed his iPad and plopped down in the middle of his bed, taking a long pull on his beer, then he opened the first of the documents Pike had sent.

He was just browsing a glossary of terms for kink and BDSM when his BlackBerry rang. He bit back a curse and picked up, all ready to lie to Tanya and tell her that, really, he just wanted to go to bed and get some rest.

‘Nick? It’s Elsa.’

Both his pulse and his cock responded before his voice could.

‘… Are you all right?’

‘I’m fine,’ he managed around his sudden struggle to breathe. ‘You? You seemed … upset.’ He shifted on the bed, ignoring the towel as it fell loose.

‘It had nothing to do with you, and I apologise for being so badly behaved when your success was so deserving of celebration.’

‘There for a while I was actually thinking you might celebrate with me.’

The silence on the other end of the phone made him wonder if he should have kept his mouth shut.

Her delicious bedroom chuckle made his dick stretch tight against his belly almost as though it were reaching to get closer to the sound of her voice. ‘If I hadn’t lost my temper, I might have taken you up on it, though I’m not sure it would have been a good idea.’

‘Why? And don’t tell me it’s because you don’t have sex with the people who work for you.’

This time her voice sounded almost shy. ‘That’s true enough, but you’re not exactly a regular member of the crew, are you?’

‘I’m doing the work of a regular member,’ he said, his hand straying down to his cock. ‘And if I’m doing the work, I want the benefits.’

‘You’ve got Beetle and Debs. You’ll have Kandi, when she gets back from holiday, and any of the guys if you feel like experimenting a bit. Then there’s Tanya. In fact, if she hasn’t called you to offer her services already, then I’ll be surprised.’

‘But it’s you I want, and I’m not stupid. There in the hotel suite, you wanted me too, didn’t you?’

‘I was overly tired and stressed about … the way the night had gone.’

‘That’s it? You were so delirious from exhaustion and stress that I could have been just anybody off the streets, and you would have fallen into my arms and kissed my face off?’

Her laughter was like warm fur moving over his skin and the half-hearted touching and caressing of his junk became fisted stroking. ‘I didn’t fall into your arms, Mr Chase. You … enveloped me, and I’d say it was a pretty stiff competition as to who would kiss whose face off.’

He shifted his arse against the bed and put the BlackBerry on speakerphone so he could use his hands for more urgent tasks. ‘Oh, it was stiff all right, but then you’d know that, wouldn’t you, being … enveloped as you were.’

‘It was definitely stiff. In fact, I was amazed it could get that stiff that fast after the way you’d just decorated Deb’s backside and the hotel room window for Mrs Bromley.’

His efforts were no longer mindless. His efforts were totally focused on the woman whose voice made his body tingle with the want of her, the woman who had been in his thoughts the whole time he’d been performing with Deb. His hips rocked and ground against the bed and, fuck, it was like every single conscious thought had somehow migrated to his groin. He ached with a fullness he hadn’t even felt when he was playing with Deb.

‘Elsa –’ he spoke her name around gasping efforts to breathe ‘– I wasn’t performing for Mrs Bromley. I’m sure she’s a lovely woman and all, but I was performing to make you come.’

Her own breathing seemed heavier and her voice somehow more humid. ‘Nick, I –’

Before she could say anything he didn’t want to hear, and he was pretty sure the words were right on the tip of her tongue, he interrupted. ‘You can’t tell me that you don’t fantasise about other things, other people, sometimes when you’re performing – other people you’d rather be with, other people you’d rather be making love to.’

And suddenly she was all business-like. ‘Of course that happens, Nick. I mean, as you’ve seen, all the people on the team are very skilled in the sexual arts, and everyone has a very high libido. They have to in order to do what they do. Still, what happens in someone’s head sometimes is a lot more arousing than what’s happening to someone’s body. But –’

‘And did it work?’ Jesus, she had to know what he was doing, he wasn’t even trying to be subtle about the pull and tug, the rock and shift and the battle to breathe around his arousal.

Her laugh was husky, way too breathless for the business-like tone she had just pretended.

‘Did it work? Did I make you come?’

‘Nick, I –’

‘Elsa, tell me, because just talking to you, just hearing your voice on the other end of the phone, just thinking about the way you feel, the way you taste, makes me hard and full and uncomfortable, and I can’t help thinking that just maybe –’

‘Yes.’ Her answer came out long and heavy on the “s”, like steak sizzling on the grill, like the heat and humidity of her outrageously tasty mouth was enough to set her BlackBerry on fire, right where she held it close to her face, close to the feather-softness of her cheek. ‘Yes, Nick. You made me come. You made me come last night and you made me come tonight.’

Before Nick could let that delicious fact sink in and mix with his already raging lust, the damned doorbell rang.

Unfortunately, Elsa heard it too. ‘Aren’t you going to answer that?’

‘Whoever it is can fuck off,’ he growled. ‘Now where were we?’

‘Seriously, Nick, you should probably answer. It might be something important. I mean, you do own a business, and things happen.’

‘And when things happen, normal people call,’ he said.

‘Just check, OK?’

Silently calling down curses on whoever had dared to disturb the most intimate time he’d had with Elsa so far, he slid into the pair of sweat bottoms, which were nicely tented with his hard cock. Then he pressed himself against the wall to peek out of the bedroom window. From that angle, he could just see down to the porch where the motion detecting lights bathed the untimely visitor in golden hues.

‘It’s Tanya,’ he said, trying not to grind his teeth.

He wasn’t sure if he detected a chuckle or a curse in a little burst of air over the speakerphone. ‘I don’t know how she found me, but I’ll send her away,’ he said.

‘No, don’t do that. She’s no doubt come to thank you, and a bird in the hand, you know …’ Elsa’s voice sounded way more neutral than he’d have liked. Damn it, he wanted to finish what they’d started. Phone sex with Elsa Crane had to be way hotter than physical sex with anyone else on the planet. ‘Besides,’ she added, ‘I’ve been on the receiving end of Tanya’s gratitude and it’s an enjoyable place to be. You should take advantage. You’ve earned it, and she owes it.’

‘Elsa, I don’t want –’

‘Goodnight, Nick. Enjoy Tanya.’

And with that, she hung up.

He was hard and uncomfortable and none too happy at the way things had ended with Elsa. He had every intention of sending Tanya away. But the minute he opened the door, she launched herself at him, pinning him to the wall in a lip-lock and a full-frontal rub-up that, even if his brain could have ignored it, his cock certainly could not. She wore a burgundy spandex miniskirt and a black corset that barely covered the stippling of her areolas, offering up her tits like ripe, round peaches ready for the plucking.

Before he could say anything, she squatted in front of him, perched on impossibly high heels. He flinched at her long, painted fingernails raking over his hips and sliding his sweats down to release his cock, which shot, as though it were spring-loaded, right into her waiting mouth. As the tight depth of her throat sheathed the length of him, the sound that escaped his lips was nothing intelligible. Her hands cupped his buttocks in kneading, separating motions that exposed his butthole to the air conditioning and stretched it with each grope just enough to remind him that it was there, that it was exposed, and that it was sensitive. She tugged and pulled at his cock in the humid velvet of her mouth until he surrendered all thoughts of banishing her and curled his fingers into her hair, pulling her still closer, thrusting hard into her tight, wet grip.

He felt mean-spirited enough by his disappointing disconnect with Elsa that he would have happily come in Tanya’s mouth and sent her home. But the woman had worked for Mount Vegas. She wouldn’t make it that simple. Just when he was ready to give himself over to the pleasure, she pulled away and began to unhook the front of the corset. ‘I know you are tired, Nick, but I had to come over and thank you for all that you are doing.’ She freed her ripe, heavy breasts into her hands and thumbed her nipples to urgent pink points, giving him almost enough time to gather his thoughts and tell her to go away. Almost. Then she scooped herself into her hands and leant forward, first running her wet tongue over the head of his cock, then angling her body so that, almost by instinct, he knew what had to be done. He bent forward, took both her breasts in his hands, kneaded and sculpted and scooped until the dark tunnel of cleavage became the perfect place in which to bury his aching dick.

Tanya ran her tongue over her full top lip and whimpered a sigh just before she bent her head close to her chest and licked the tip of him with each thrust, making little sounds like a kitten lapping cream. Once again, she brought him to the point at which he was ready to let her take what of his jizz into her mouth she could manage while he unloaded the rest across her tits and chest. Then she pulled away.

‘Nick, I want you to fuck me. Fuck me any way you would like, only please fuck me. I am all yours to have. I am your fuck toy for the night. I only want to please you.’ She looked up at him from beneath well-mascaraed lashes. ‘I have condom.’

Once again he was all ready to tell her to leave; he just needed to catch his breath a little bit. But she didn’t give him time for that. Instead, she inched up her skirt until he could see the swollen pink pearl of her clit peeking from beneath its heavy hood and the slickened sheen of her splayed pussy. She offered a little sigh that caught in the back of her throat, and she began to tweak her tight nib between her thumb and forefinger, each tug and pinch making her slit even wetter and shinier with her readiness. Then she bit her lip and gave him a little-girl pout. Even then he might have been able to resist, but she leant back and shifted her hips until he could see the grip and surge, grip and surge of her anus, dewy from the abundance of her girlie juices, as though it too were begging for his cock. Her tongue flicked over lips red and swollen, her fingers danced over her clit. The spread of her legs offered exquisite views of pussy and arsehole, all begging for Nick’s attention, all begging for Nick’s cock in hypnotic undulations and quivers of exquisite feminine muscles drenched and dilated, ready to accommodate.

When he only stood there staring down at her, Tanya pulled a condom from a tight pocket in the scrunched-up skirt and rolled it onto his cock. Then she rose, lifted her arms around his neck, and shifted forward. The rest was instinct. The rest he managed from some state of sexual hypnosis ruled by his penis and his heavy balls. He cupped her bottom in his hands and lifted her, with her half climbing his body until she squirmed and wriggled her way deep and tight onto his cock.

‘I want to make you come, Nick Chase. I want to make your big cock feel so good.’

She accentuated her words with a hard grip of her pussy lips, and Nick began to hump, carrying her to the kitchen table, where he settled her, ploughing into her hard as she wrapped her legs around his hips and thrust up to meet him. And even then she wouldn’t let him just mindlessly fill her. Once again, she pulled and wriggled off him.’

‘What the …?’ was all he could manage before she turned onto her hands and knees, her arse practically in his face.

‘You want this, don’t you, Nick?’ She ploughed her cupped fingers between her sopping pussy lips and spread the accumulated juices over her anus just before she thrust three wet fingers into her tight back hole with a grunt and a nibble of her bottom lip. ‘All men want this but many are afraid to ask. You don’t have to ask, Nick. I will always give you what you want, what you need.’

Nick had to battle hard for control at the sight of her pussy, empty and gripping in muscle memory of his cock that had filled it only seconds before. Tanya rammed and probed and stretched her dark sphincter until it grudgingly opened and spread and gaped for him. ‘Is all right, Nick,’ she gasped breathlessly. ‘You can fuck me there in my asshole. I would like that, and see, I have it all ready for you. So ready.’

Nick didn’t argue. He shoved his cock hard into her pussy for one last coating of her juices and then, with her grunting and straining, let her guide him into her delicious tightness. ‘Is good, no?’ she managed in a tight little breath. ‘So good, and so good for me too Nick.’ With his first hard thrust, she nearly lost her balance, but then she stabilised herself on hands and knees and shifted her hips back so that, for Nick’s cock, it was a straight shot in, deep and hard, with Tanya chanting, ‘Is so good, Nick. Feels so good, so good.’

She whimpered. ‘But now my pussy is empty, and she needs to be filled too.’ She took his hand, guiding it down around her waist to slip two then three fingers into her drenched slit.

By that time, Nick wasn’t entirely sure of his own name. He was buried to the hilt up the arse of a beautiful woman who wanted him badly and, just as Tanya began to jerk and convulse in orgasm, he found himself wishing like hell that Elsa were watching, wishing she secretly had a scope set up to view his house and she had planned the whole meeting with Tanya so she could watch and play with her pussy, so that Nick could make her come again. He imagined that she was addicted to the orgasms he gave her when she watched him. He imagined it was him she wanted, him she needed. That was enough to send Nick over the edge, filling the condom with his load; a load made heavier, once again, by thoughts of making Elsa Crane come.

Chapter Nine

‘I expected you to look a whole lot better slept with this morning,’ Rita Holly said, squinting at Elsa through the monitor.

Elsa offered half a growl in response and gulped enough coffee to burn her tongue.

‘You mean you didn’t invite our lovely Mr Chase over for a personal party? Oh Elsa, what on earth’s the matter with you?’

‘There were … complications,’ Elsa said, feeling an unwelcome ache below her breastbone when she thought of what almost happened. ‘Besides, he works for me and I –’

‘For fuck’s sake, everyone at Mount Vegas works for you and you fuck all of them, and he’s the most fuckable hunk of manliness I’ve seen in a long time. Well, not counting Edward, of course, because I’m sort of partial where Edward’s concerned.’ She waved her hand as though she were erasing a chalkboard. ‘Never mind that. Look, I know you were really upset with Pike. He told me that you probably would be, and you should be, I agree. He went over your head, but sweetie, this time he was right.’

Elsa closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose. ‘I know he was right. That’s what’s driving me crazy. I don’t have any trouble admitting when I’m wrong. I have a pretty healthy ego, but that I made such a mistake, that I backed down when I was the first to push for Nick to be in Mrs Bromley’s fantasy, that’s what bothers me. Why would I do that, Rita? Why would I second guess myself?’

Rita sipped from a bottle of water and puffed out a heavy breath. ‘Well, sweetie, at the risk of sounding obvious, maybe you didn’t want to share him?’

‘That’s ridiculous. Everyone shares everyone here at Mount Vegas, and if he wants to take up Tanya’s contract then that’s a part of the package.’

‘And a lovely package it is.’ Rita offered Elsa a mischievous smile, which turned sympathetic. ‘Hon, you haven’t fucked him yet, have you?’

Elsa felt Rita’s words like a hard gut-punch, which made her even angrier. Why should she feel anything one way or another where fucking Nick Chase was concerned? ‘Well, there really hasn’t been a chance, has there? I mean, he’s only just started and I really am trying to break him in as gently as I can and –’

Rita nearly sprayed her mouthful of water on the monitor. ‘Come on, Elsa! Break him in gently? I know about the little game you played with him the night before, letting Beetle ride him while Horse shoved his monster cock up Deb’s arse. Jesus, if that’s breaking him in gently than you’re one helluva sadistic bitch. Why didn’t you join the party?’

‘My ass was sore.’

‘Big deal. So you’d been in the dungeon with Pike. Don’t you think the man who’s conscientious enough to offer to fulfil Tanya’s contract would know how to fuck you gently and protect your little wounded arse?’

‘Rita, please. Do we have to talk about this?’

‘Of course we have to talk about this. Why the hell do you think I so gladly got you up in the wee hours? Nick Chase is hotter than hot. He’s the best thing that’s happened to Mount Vegas in a long time, and clearly you like him, Elsa Crane.’

‘Well of course I like him,’ Elsa blustered. ‘I like all of my team, and I wouldn’t have hired him if I didn’t like him.’

‘Then why didn’t you invite him back to yours and fuck his brains out last night, sweetie? After all, you’re the boss.’

‘I was … he was … and then I called him but … Tanya came and I figured he would … they would … Well, you know.’

‘Right. Thanks for that concise recap of events.’ Rita said. Behind her, Elsa could see Edward fresh from the shower with only a towel around his waist. He bent and kissed Rita on the neck, than blew a kiss to Elsa, who blew one back. ‘So you were probably the only one in Mount Vegas who didn’t get laid last night. Oh Elsa, that’s just so wrong. What kind of an example are you setting for your team?’

Elsa glared at her. ‘Now you’re toying with me.’

Rita’s smile turned sympathetic again. ‘No, I’m just telling you how it is. You like Nick Chase and it’s clear he likes you.’ Rita rubbed her hands together as though scheming something very naughty. ‘You want him. He wants you. So all you have to do is fuck him and get on with it. You see, sweetie. Problem solved. Oh, and then you have to tell me all about it, of course.’

In spite of herself, Elsa smiled back at her. ‘Next time we Skype I’ll try to be ready to titillate.’

‘Good. You’d better,’ Rita said. ‘Oh, and one more thing, Elsa, don’t be too hard on Pike. His instincts were spot on and, even though he might have gone about it all wrong, he loves you, and he’d never do anything to hurt you.’

‘I know,’ Elsa said. ‘Pike’s a good friend, but he’s never gone over my head before, and it … well, it hurt as much as it made me angry.’

‘Then you need to tell him that when you talk to him.’ She leant forward. ‘Are you going to punish him?’

Elsa shook her head. ‘That’s not really my thing any more.’

Rita studied her through the monitor. ‘Whether or not it’s your thing, Pike understands the relationship he shares with you way better than you do, Elsa. He understands what he deserves, and he deserves to be punished by the Mistress of Mount Vegas. Trust me on this one, Elsa, you’ll both feel better if you do it properly.’

Pike settled in the reception room of Elsa’s office. He usually walked right on in unannounced. The two of them had been friends with benefits from the start and they had never stood on ceremony. It was neither a surprise, nor a thing of resentment that Elsa became the head of Mount Vegas. Elsa had created Mount Vegas as something unique within all The Mount, created it even before she knew The Mount existed. It was because of her creative mind and her business acumen that Mount Vegas was quickly heading in the direction of full coven status. So even though they were best friends, it was Elsa who held the reins of power, and she held them well. Pike knew better to push his luck when she was angry. And she was really angry. In fact, he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her so angry.

Knowing that, he waited for her to invite him in. She’d been behaving strangely ever since Nick Chase came into their lives. On the one hand she didn’t want Nick here; on the other she’d given the whole gang permission to play with him. On the one hand she practically forced him into yesterday’s act for Mrs Bromley; on the other, she tried to pull him out at the last minute. And then there was the little scene after the performance. She practically climbed Nick like a tree right there in front of everyone. OK, so she didn’t initiate contact, but once contact was made, wow! Pike was sure the whole room would go up in flames. He’d never seen such chemistry. And certainly he hadn’t meant to drive them apart. Hell, he, more than anyone, wanted to see Elsa lovesick for someone who returned the favour.

Even though he was in deep shit, he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. The icy-cool Elsa Crane was behaving strangely because she was smitten. Before he could carry his line of thought much beyond the Eureka moment, the office door opened. Elsa stuck her head out and nodded him in with little more than a grunt for a greeting. Pike took a deep breath and braced himself. Grunted greetings never boded well. He followed her into the room and stood in front of her desk.

When she returned to her seat without a word, he took the bull by the horns. ‘I’m sorry I went behind your back, Elsa.’ He should have left it at that, but he was a master at opening his mouth and inserting his foot. ‘It was right to let him do the act with Deb, though, clearly you could see that.’

She studied him with a gaze he struggled to meet, a gaze that made him shift nervously from foot to foot. ‘How long have we worked together, Pike?’ The total calm in her voice made him uncomfortable.

‘A long time, Elsa,’ he said. ‘We’ve always been a great team.’

She came to stand in front of him. ‘Yes, we’ve always been a great team. All of us together have been a great team. You and I built that team. And how much of that time have you been team leader?’

He braced himself. ‘Never, Elsa.’

She still held him captive in her titanium gaze. ‘And have I ever led this group wrongly, Pike?’

‘No. No one would ever question your leadership. You’re the best at what you do.’

‘You were right about Nick being ready. It’s true. But the world wouldn’t have come to an end if we’d given Pagan his role, given Mrs B a discount and given Nick a little more time to get comfortable with what has to be a huge situation for him to get his head around. He’s being pushed like none of us ever were.’

‘He volunteered,’ Pike said. ‘He didn’t come in thinking it would be easy, and you’ve been the hardest on him from the beginning.’

She moved until they stood nose to nose, and he inhaled the coffee on her breath, the clean, soapy morning smell of her, and beneath that the spicy dark scent of the woman herself, a scent with which he, maybe more than anyone else at Mount Vegas, was familiar. She grabbed him by the hair and pulled him down until his forehead was practically against hers. He sucked a tight breath at the prickle of pain along his scalp. ‘I don’t appreciate being told what I already know, even if I owed you an explanation, which I don’t. We drop it here, Pike, unless you want me to take it out on your ass in the dungeon, and trust me, as angry as I am at the moment, you really don’t want that. But if you ever, ever undermine my authority again, I will see you below decks, and I promise the punishment’ll be hard and long.’ Her voice was little more than a snarl. ‘Do I make myself clear?’

‘Quite clear, mistress,’ he said, stepping back, his eyes lowered, his heart hammering in his chest. He clasped his hands in front of his burgeoning erection. Elsa had never threatened him with punishment for any of his transgressions. She avoided the dungeon like the plague most of the time. And as much as she hated being the submissive in any dungeon act, she absolutely refused to play the dominant, no matter if it meant postponing the act. In spite of her discomfort surrounding the dungeon, Pike couldn’t keep the thought from affecting his cock. He wasn’t sure he’d survive Elsa in the dungeon on the other side of the crop, but he was sure it would be an exquisite way to die.

‘And don’t call me mistress.’ With hands that were uncharacteristically shaky, she straightened the jacket of her light linen suit and began to pace again. ‘Pike, you’re my friend, you’ve always been my friend, and I need you to be that whatever happens. I’m sorry if that blurs the lines of authority at times. Most of the time that blurring is a natural part of what makes our relationship work, but last night wasn’t one of those times. I’ve Skyped with Rita and I know you had no choice in her request to watch Nick and Deb. Certainly there was nothing to be anything but proud of in what she saw, but going over my head with Nick Chase was way out of line. We’re treading dangerous waters with him fulfilling Tanya’s contract anyway, and I need my team to support me in this.’

‘Rita Holly was all right with it.’ Pike said.

‘Yes, but she just as easily could have been against it.’

And then Pike opened his big mouth again. ‘Elsa, I’m sorry. You can send my ass off to the dungeon and put my cock in a chastity belt for the next month if you want, but I don’t think you’re seeing too clearly where Nick Chase is concerned.’

She turned on him. ‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?’

‘Chase isn’t a danger to Mount Vegas. In fact, I can’t see him being anything but good for the Mount in general, and I think Rita’s right, you should recruit him. But he is a danger, Elsa. He’s a danger to your heart.’

‘That’s ridiculous, Pike. What happened last night after the act was just –’

They were interrupted by a soft knock on the door that caused it to swing open wide, and there stood Nick Chase.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, looking from one of them to the other. ‘I guess it wasn’t latched. I’ll come back later.’

‘It’s all right, Nick.’ Elsa stepped back. ‘Pike was just leaving.’

The tension in the room was so thick Nick could have sliced it with his Victorinox. Pike gave him a friendly slap on the back as he left, and Elsa motioned him in.

‘How much did you hear?’ she said, grabbing her bag and nodding toward the door again.

‘Only the bit about me being a danger to your heart. I heard that bit.’

‘Pike has a big mouth, and he often engages it before he engages his brain. You have the limo?’

‘It’s down in the parking garage, just like you asked.’ Elsa had texted him earlier and asked if he had an extra limo, and if he could drive it in. He thought it a strange request, but then it was Mount Vegas, and it was nowhere near the strangest request he’d ever had.

Neither of them spoke until they were in the elevator, and then Nick said, ‘Those were the Mount Vegas offices, I presume?’

‘Yup. Well, some of them. We’re sort of spread out all over town. I’ll give you the grand tour later,’ Elsa said. Then she added, ‘So, did you have a good time with Tanya last night?’

He gave her a quick glance, but she didn’t return it. She only stood facing the front, the look on her face neutral. ‘It was OK,’ he replied.

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Just OK? That’s hardly like Tanya – especially not a grateful Tanya.’

‘Do you want a blow by blow?’ he asked.

‘Not in the elevator, Mr Chase.’ She batted thick eyelashes at him and offered a demure smile. ‘You might embarrass me.’

‘Elsa –’ he laid his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him ‘– I was with Tanya because you all but shoved me at her, and then she wouldn’t take no for an answer.’ He released her and they both quickly turned to face the door as it opened. Then he spoke from between his teeth as they navigated the crowd of people waiting to get inside. ‘I would have rather been with you.’ As they shoved through the crowd, he offered her a quick smile. ‘But then I can see how you might have felt it better for us not to be together, what with me being a danger to your heart and all.’

‘Fuck you, Nick Chase,’ she said, but the corners of her mouth twitched slightly with the threatening smile.

‘Any time, Elsa Crane, any time. In fact, the back seat of the limo is very roomy.’

She slipped her arm through his. ‘I’m counting on it. I have a huge event for some VIPs coming up in a few weeks, and I need to put cameras in a limo. I’m working up a scene coming from The Wedding Chapel to the Cosmopolitan. It doesn’t have to be time specific. If the limo scene is hot enough, I’m sure Mrs Keyser won’t mind if we linger there while the driver does a few laps around the city.’

Nick stopped in front of the Lincoln Town Car. ‘I have a bigger one if it’ll help,’ he said.

She walked around it and ran a palm along the door handle. ‘No, it’s just for the happy newlyweds, so I want to create a cosy feeling.’ She nodded to the back door, and he unlocked it.

He admired a view of her lovely rounded backside and those delicious long legs as she slid across the seat and over against the far door. He didn’t wait for an invite but slid right on in next to her. ‘So tell me about this fantasy my limo will star in, and why my limo rather than one of the Mount Vegas limos.

‘Mount Vegas limos are leased, as are the drivers, and we usually don’t involve them in our work.’

‘But mine belong to an employee.’

‘Yours belong to you,’ she said, smiling over at him, stroking the leather seat in between them in a way he wished she’d stroke him. ‘That means not only can you drive them but you can participate in the act if need be. Plus I figured you wouldn’t mind someone having sex in the back.’

He held her gaze. ‘It’s Vegas, Elsa. You’d be hard pressed to find a limo driver who hasn’t had couples doing the nasty in the back seat. Most tourists think sex in the back of a limo is mandatory, a part of the Vegas experience. So what else?’

She sucked her bottom lip. ‘Well, we’re calling the fantasy The Billionaire Buys a Virgin Bride, and it’s the most complicated thing we’ve ever done, though not so complex as far as the kink goes, just to put together.’

He blinked. ‘Seriously? The Billionaire Buys a Virgin Bride?’

She shrugged. ‘We get all kinds, Nick. We get all kinds. You’ll see after you’ve been here a while.’

‘So how does it go?’ he asked, laying his hand on the seat next to hers.

‘Well, there’s a bit of feeling up at The Wedding Chapel. We’re still arranging that. You know, the billionaire giving a grope beneath the taffeta to make sure he got what he paid for and then maybe letting his innocent bride feel the vigour of his manhood.’ She lowered her voice, squared her shoulders, and made a cock-stroking motion above her groin that left him chuckling.

‘So far I like it,’ he said.

‘After they say their “I dos”, they’re off in the limo with a little grope and play and the nervous bride begging her horny hubby to be gentle with her, but loving it oh so much when he touches her –’ she nodded down to her crotch and offered him a fake shy look as she nibbled her lip ‘– down there.’ Fake or not, it got his cock’s attention. She continued. ‘Then it’s off to the Cosmopolitan for the deflowering. The plot’s simple enough, but the changes in location complicate things.’

‘And who’ll you get to play the newlyweds?’

‘We’re lucky enough to have a couple coming in from London who have agreed to do it for us. They’re from the London branch of The Mount.’

Nick scooted closer. ‘Didn’t know there was more than one.’

‘There is,’ she said. ‘And these two are even more VIP than Mrs Keyser, so she’ll get a double treat, and so will the rest of us.’

‘So what do you think?’ He scooted still closer and laid his hand on her thigh. ‘Will the couple have room for a proper grope in my humble limo? Shall we find out?’ Before she had a chance to respond, he leant in and took her mouth. She gave only the slightest moan of protest accompanied by the smallest attempt to squirm away before she found herself up tight against the door. Then she slipped her arms around his neck and pulled him in closer.

‘Mmm.’ She spoke against his lips with a flick of her tongue. ‘I think the happy couple will enjoy groping in your limo just fine, Nick.’

‘Well, there will be all that taffeta to contend with,’ he said. She gave a little yelp of surprise as he lifted her to straddle his lap. With hands at her hips, he rucked up her linen skirt until her muscular thighs rested on either side of his. He got just a glimpse of pale panties before she shifted her hips and raked her whole silk-covered crotch against his. He gasped and she let out a low chuckle.

‘Thought so,’ she said. ‘Thought I could see some serious swelling in the groinal area there, Mr Chase.’

‘And you’re not easing it any doing that,’ he said, shifting his arse into the dark leather and up to meet her raking.

‘Who said I was trying to ease it?’ She found a rhythm that was so getting him there. Then, with her gaze locked on him, she opened the buttons at the front of her top until the lace of a matching silk bra peeked from the breach. With a catch he didn’t notice until it was undone, she opened the front of the bra and eased the cups apart till he could see the rounded swell of cleavage and the tightened bud of nipple and areola. ‘You like my tits, don’t you, Nick?’ she said.

‘What? Is that a trick question?’

Still holding his gaze, she took him by the wrists, then bathed each palm with her very agile, very warm tongue, lingering to fellate several of his fingers in a way his empathetic cock totally appreciated before she guided his hands to her breasts. Her nipples puckered against his wet palms and she nibbled her lip and shivered at his cupping. ‘Mmm, you feel that right down to your cock, don’t you, Mr Chase?’ And Christ if she didn’t do some sort of grip and squeeze with her girlie muscles that felt like her pussy was kissing along the length of his cock. Astoundingly, he could feel those nibbles clear through her panties and his jeans.

The rocking and shifting intensified; her tongue did the tango with his. Reluctantly, he slid his hands away from her breasts and she moaned a protest into his mouth that quickly became a purr of pleasure as he cupped his hands under her tight arse, squeezing and kneading. Then he squirmed and shoved until he was lying in the seat on top of her, wriggling for position between her eagerly accommodating legs.

‘Oh God, Nick, don’t stop,’ she breathed against his neck, wrapping her legs around his waist. With each shift and thrust his still-clothed cock shoved the gusset of her panties deeper into the valley of her that swelled and pouted and opened, humid and undulating along his length.

He lowered his mouth to take her nipples in turn, and she fisted a tight hand in his hair to hold him to her breasts, as if he would go anywhere, as if he would want to be anywhere other than closer to Elsa Crane.

‘Your butt,’ he whispered, grinding particularly hard against her. ‘Is it still sore?’

‘Almost healed,’ she said, arching up to meet his thrust. ‘And anyway, who cares? What you’re doing definitely takes my mind off a sore butt.’

She bit back the last word, and her whole body trembled with orgasm.

‘Was that good?’ he whispered, feeling his cock surge in her pleasure. ‘Did you like that?’

‘Mmm,’ she managed, nodding her head in a wild cascade of auburn hair.

‘I have a condom,’ he whispered when she stopped trembling.

‘Other than that stiff, raking cock of yours, I don’t care what you have, just keep doing what you’re doing and let’s see what happens.’

He could feel her orgasm, wet against the front of his jeans. His cock jerked and strained and his balls felt like they were full of hot lead. The wetness of her panties pressed the silk against her pussy, intimating the shape of her with each undulation, driving it along the press of his jeans against his heft and creating delicious friction.

Elsa wriggled and rolled until they both nearly ended up on the floor in a wave of giggles before she righted herself and gained the upper position. ‘And now, Nick,’ she gasped. ‘I’m gonna return the favour and make you come in your pants.’

‘Elsa, no. Elsa …’ She slid down along the length of him so hard and so tight that he feared his jeans would combust from the friction, and then there was no thinking, there was not even any breathing. He would come in his pants. He would come in his pants for Elsa Crane and he would be fucking pleased to do it. Which was just as well because he was way past the tipping point, and Elsa knew it.

She ravaged his mouth and thumbed his nipples. ‘I want you to come now, Nick. I want to feel you spurt clear through your jeans. I want to feel your heat wetting me, burning me up.’

And how could he refuse? The limo shook beneath him as he unloaded in his jeans with Elsa squirming out another orgasm against his crotch. And God, they smelled great together! His jizz spiked with Elsa Crane’s salty sweet heat would have made the best perfumers drool. Then she fell forward on top of him with a heavy sigh.

When Nick could engage his brain enough to remember how to speak, he laughed. ‘Jesus, woman, if we have this much fun without taking our clothes off, I can’t wait to get you naked.’

‘Sadly, that’s not going to happen today,’ Elsa said. ‘You have training, and Beetle won’t be happy if you’re late. You can hardly go like that though.’ She eyeballed his wet crotch. Even in the just-shot-his-wad state, it made his cock surge. ‘I’ll have Pike come get you and show you where the showers are. I’ll have him bring you some jeans too. You two are close to the same size, I’d guess.’

She was already on her BlackBerry. Once she had called her second in command, she found a packet of tissues in her bag and cleaned herself as though it didn’t bother her at all, him watching. Maybe it didn’t bother her, but it made him want to help her out, made him want to say fuck the training and take Elsa again while she was still wet and ready, and he was getting that way fast.

Chapter Ten

Nick was given instructions to go to the office next to Elsa’s. As he walked by the suite where he’d overheard Pike tell Elsa that her heart was in danger, his own heart skipped a beat, and he found himself wanting to make a detour. His cock liked the idea at least as much as his heart did. He imagined having Elsa on the top of her big oak desk, having her on the floor and on the sofa, and … well, having her just about everywhere; anywhere would do.

But he wasn’t invited to her suite. Instead, he stopped in front of the one next to it and knocked timidly. Under different circumstances, he would be excited to meet with someone as quirky and sexy as Beetle – suspecting, as he did, that fucking would probably be involved at some point. But the fact that Elsa might be in the room next door made it difficult to think of anything else. And then the door opened and, as they seemed to do on a regular basis at Mount Vegas, things took a turn toward the unexpected.

The woman who greeted him was dressed in a dowdy knee-length grey skirt and matching jacket. She could have been dressed for the role of Mary Poppins or as a stereotypical schoolmarm about to smack his hands with her ruler. Her strawberry blonde hair was scraped up off her neck and held in place by a large, black comb. Her eyes were half hidden behind horn-rimmed glasses. In spite of the frump, Nick could see that the woman beneath was no slouch.

‘Mr Chase,’ she said, ‘Ms Beetle is waiting for you. If you’ll follow me through, please.’ She led him into a space done up as an old-fashioned schoolroom complete with half a dozen desks and a chalkboard. The teacher’s desk at the front was empty.

‘Take a seat.’ The woman pointed to a place front and centre. ‘I’m Miss Kandi. I’ll be your teacher for today under the supervision of Principal Beetle.’

Just then, the door burst open, and Beetle marched in dressed in a black pleated skirt short enough to reveal the tops of her stockings where the garter belt held them in place. She wore no blouse beneath her tailored black jacket. In one hand, she carried a highly polished red apple, which she sat on the corner of the teacher’s desk.

‘Mr Chase.’ She nodded a greeting to Nick. ‘Miss Kandi.’ But the teacher didn’t get a curt nod. Instead, she got a full-on tongue-kiss and a grope of her tit that left Nick with a bulge in his jeans. His lesson had begun. ‘Do take off your jacket, Miss Kandi,’ Beetle instructed. ‘This is Vegas, and it’s always hot.’

The woman did as she was told, to reveal a thin white blouse over a black lace bra. Beetle removed her own jacket, which covered a tightly laced corset that barely contained the bulge of her breasts.

‘And now, Mr Chase,’ Beetle said, looking him up and down, ‘it’s my task to see to your education. And while you’re under the tutelage of Miss Kandi and me, you’ll behave like a proper student, speak when spoken to, answer all questions, pay attention in class and learn the lesson set before you, or face the consequences. Are we clear?’

She had to be kidding, he thought. Surely she had to be kidding.

‘Are we clear, Mr Chase?’ She sat on the front of the desk and crossed her legs so that he got the full view of her bare pussy before she settled.

‘Yes, ma’am. We’re clear.’

‘Good. If you’ll look around, you’ll notice that this isn’t your typical schoolroom. This is a classroom designed to teach the Mount Vegas novice all he or she will need to know to perform to the tastes of a voyeur, no matter what those tastes might be. Your job, Mr Chase, will be to convince even the most demanding of our clients that you’re exactly what they asked for, that you know exactly what they fantasise about because you fantasise about it too.’ She took a long wooden pointer from the top of the desk and ran it through her hands. ‘You proved that you possess some skills when you performed last night with Deb. But that was an easy task, Mr Chase. This room’s the place where you’ll learn to cope with the more difficult fantasies, and Miss Kandi and I are here to assist you in the learning process.’ For a moment she studied him, stroking the pointer along her palm. ‘You look hot, Mr Chase. But then you should be, since you just got a peek at my pussy.’ An unwelcome blush crawled up his throat and over his cheeks. Jesus, after last night, he’d figured nothing would ever make him blush again. ‘You’d better get used to it, because you’re on the crash course and you’ll be seeing a lot of pussy and cock in the next two months.’ She went on with her explanation. ‘This room’s one of the non-hotel set-ups that Mount Vegas has throughout the city. As you can imagine, naughty students and strict teachers are a very popular fantasy. This room’s well equipped with cameras for when a teacher needs to punish a student, or the principal needs to check up on a teacher.’

With that, she extended the pointer until the tip caught the hem of Miss Kandi’s skirt. And Jesus, if the dowdy little teacher didn’t blush and try to shove away like no one had ever done such a shocking thing to her. The more she tried to pull away, the more Principal Beetle rucked up the front of her skirt until Nick would have had to close his eyes not to see the tightly trimmed curls of her pussy, as strawberry blonde as her knotted hair.

‘And now show me, Mr Chase,’ Beetle instructed. ‘Show me what a misbehaving schoolboy would do at this point.’

Nick reacted without thinking, fumbling with the pen he had in his pocket as though he were about to take notes, then dropping it on the floor. He scrambled to his knees to pick it up, just as Miss Kandi shifted her stance and gave him a view of her heavily pouting snatch. God, could he actually catch a little whiff of horny pussy? As he reached for the pen, whack! Beetle brought the wooden heft of the pointer down hard across his jeaned arse.

‘Sonovabi –’ Nick swallowed back his words. His cock jerked in his jeans as he shoved his way to his feet.

‘Oh you dirty, dirty boy.’ Miss Kandi’s voice was high-pitched and breathless, and the blush made her skin glow like well-fired porcelain. ‘Principal Beetle, did you see what this naughty boy did? He looked up my dress …’ Her lip quivered. ‘He looked at my –’ She dug in her pocket for a lace handkerchief to wipe her brow.

Nick now stood at the side of his desk, hands clasped in front of his bulge, head bowed in shame. He knew this fantasy.

‘Is that true, Mr Chase? Did you look at Miss Kandi’s lady bits?’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said, joining Ms Kandi with a hard blush in spite of the fact that this was all a game.

Beetle moved closer to him. ‘It appears you liked what you saw.’ She gave his obvious erection a hard stroke through his jeans, and he gasped. ‘Since you’ve admitted to being a filthy boy, all that’s left is the punishment filthy boys get.’

He didn’t like the sound of that. She took him by the arm and pulled him forward to the end of the teacher’s desk. There she unbuckled his belt, pulled it free from the waistband and handed it to Miss Kandi. Then she went to work on his fly.

Miss Kandi doubled his belt in half and ran the leather of it over the palm of her hand. All the while her eyes were locked on his crotch. And suddenly he twigged.

‘Wait a minute. Are you going to spank me? Elsa said there’d be no spanking. Elsa said –’

‘Elsa’s not here.’ Principal Beetle yanked his jeans and boxers down until his cock bounced free and his arse was exposed. Then she grabbed his balls and held them just tight enough to get his full attention. ‘You can take your punishment and learn your lesson or you can walk out that door and not come back. All up to you, Mr Chase. You’re of no use to us if you can’t take a little pain when the need arises. Your fuck stick works just fine; excellent, in fact.’ She gave his cock a fisted stroke. ‘But every man has a cock, and every man knows how to use it for his pleasure. Maybe if he’s good, he knows how to use it for someone else’s pleasure. Those are just the first steps at Mount Vegas.’ She held his gaze with dark, hard eyes. ‘Now do you want to learn the lesson or do you want to go drive your limo and jerk yourself off?’

His pulse felt like it would explode right through his throat, and God, his dick couldn’t get harder if it had to. And here he was about to get his arse beat with his own belt. What the fuck was the matter with him? And yet he sucked a deep breath and bent over the end of the desk, arse up. Beetle stretched his arms out along the battered wood surface until his hands could grip the other end above his head.

‘Good boy,’ she said, moving to stand beside him. ‘Good boy,’ she whispered against his ear, gently stroking his hair. ‘Remember, people are watching you get what you know you deserve.’ Then she turned and nodded to Miss Kandi, who stood behind him, holding the looped belt like someone who knew exactly what the hell she was doing.

Nick gritted his teeth and held his breath as the first blow cracked like a bullet and sent fire through his right arse check. His mind exploded in every curse word he knew – squared. Anger and frustration flashed red hot behind his closed eyes as the second smack scorched his other buttock, and he couldn’t hold back a harsh grunt.

‘Go easy on him, Miss Kandi,’ Beetle said. ‘His tight little bottom’s never had the belt before.’ And fuck if the woman didn’t bend and kiss each arse cheek in turn. Then she spread his buttocks apart and ran her warm wet tongue up from the base of his balls all the way to his arsehole, and his cock jerked and strained in its tight bind against the desk. Before he could focus too much on what Miss Kandi was doing, Beetle curled a rough hand in his hair and jerked his head up. ‘Look at me when you’re being punished, Mr Chase. I want to see the look on your face while Miss Kandi spanks your bottom until you squirm.’ She bent and gave him a heated tongue kiss, which he half returned, half swallowed. Then she said, ‘You were very naughty looking up Miss Kandi’s dress to see her little pussy, weren’t you?’

‘Yes, Ms Beetle.’ His words grated against his throat and the world before his eyes had taken on shades of angry red.

‘Good boy,’ she said again. Then she nodded to Miss Kandi and Nick braced himself for the next blow, which burned over his butt like fire. He bit his lip to keep from cursing.

‘Tell me, Mr Chase, did you like Miss Kandi’s pussy? Tell me the truth or you’ll get it harder.’

‘Yes, Ms Beetle! I liked Miss Kandi’s pussy.’

Another smack landed hard and crisp across his burning arse, and he understood completely why Elsa was angry with Pike. But before he could let his anger surge, Miss Kandi’s hot little tongue went back to work on his butt, this time snaking in to tease his arsehole while her free hand wriggled between his legs to cup his balls. For a second, he was certain he’d shoot his wad against the side of the desk, and as he shifted into shallow breathing mode, his out of focus gaze locked on Beetle’s face, the next blow came and then the next.

‘Stop,’ Beetle commanded. ‘I think you might be enjoying Mr Chase’s punishment just a little too much, Miss Kandi. Come here.’ The teacher obeyed.

Beetle directed her to stand behind the desk where the chair would have been. Miss Kandi’s face was flushed and her breathing was at least as hard as Nick’s. ‘Oh dear,’ Beetle said, then she jerked open the front of the woman’s white shirt and gave her tits a kneading. ‘Your nipples are like bullet points, Miss Kandi. Are you having naughty thoughts about the spanking of Mr Chase’s bare bottom?’

The teacher only responded with a whimper.

‘Mr Chase,’ Beetle addressed him. ‘Would you mind running a hand up under Miss Kandi’s skirt and telling me if her little pussy’s wet?’

Nick’s brain struggled to register what was being asked of him until Beetle reached around and lifted the woman’s skirt so that he could just make out the strawberry blonde thatch against her mons. ‘Do it,’ Beetle commanded.

With a hand that no longer seemed quite like his own, Nick manoeuvred his fingers over the teacher’s soft, tight curls and wriggled down to where her clit strained from under its hood. She moaned and bit her lip. A little more probing and he slid two fingers between her swollen folds into the hot, slippery flood of her juices.

‘Well?’ Beetle demanded. ‘Is she wet?’

‘Yes, Ms Beetle. Her pussy’s very wet.’ With Miss Kandi close enough that he could smell her arousal, Nick was once again breathing shallowly.

‘Let me see.’ Beetle slapped his hand away with a sharp whack of the pointer, then she shoved the tip of it in between the teacher’s pussy lips. The woman whimpered and shivered. Nick didn’t know how much more shallow breathing he could manage before the inevitable happened.

‘Get up!’ Beetle commanded, and Nick practically fell off the desk, cupping his cock protectively.

With one raking of her fingers, Beetle pulled the comb from Miss Kandi’s hair, and it fell loose in a waterfall of rose gold, which Beetle curled around her hand. She half dragged, half shoved the woman to the end of the desk that Nick had occupied. ‘Face up,’ she ordered, when the teacher hoiked her skirt to assume the position. ‘I’ll be using your mouth.’

Miss Kandi, now whimpering slightly, did as she was told. She planted the soft pillows of her arse on the desk, wriggling and shifting until her feet, still in their plain black pumps, sat flat on the desk top, her hips tilting to give Nick a magnificent view of her sopping slit.

‘Good,’ Beetle said. ‘Now, lie back and let Mr Chase use your wet cunny before his cock explodes.’

It was insane. It was crazy, and Nick would have never believed it of himself, but he was buried to the hilt in tight, slick pussy before Miss Kandi could even lie back on the desk. His arse burnt like fire and he didn’t care; in fact, it was strange that it somehow added to the powerful need surging through him. If he hadn’t been right on the edge before, he certainly was when Beetle crawled onto the desk, hiked her skirt, and squatted onto Miss Kandi’s mouth. She mewled like a kitten, grabbed Beetle’s arse, and began to eat like a starving woman.

‘You see, Mr Chase,’ Beetle said, shoving the ruined front of Miss Kandi’s blouse aside and clawing at the bra until the woman’s tits burst over the top and into her hands. ‘Sometimes lessons can be painful to learn, but if you stick to it and take your punishment when you’ve earned it, you get your reward in the end.’

It was hard to hear her over the whimpers and moans of Miss Kandi, whose grip was showing him no mercy. Beetle’s last words barely penetrated the testosterone haze in which he found himself, with his balls bouncing, his punished arse burning, and his cock thrusting deep into tight wet pussy. How long it lasted, he couldn’t have guessed, but he was way beyond going for endurance this time. He emptied his balls long and hard into Miss Kandi’s tight cunt just as she thrashed out her orgasm and Beetle came all over her face. Thus endeth the lesson.

As the three collapsed onto the desk in gasps and groans, Elsa shut off the monitor on which she’d been observing the act and stared into space. She was still breathing hard herself. Her pussy was still trembling with aftershocks, and her head was still buzzing with endorphins from another Nick Chase-induced orgasm. Christ, the man had skills! It wasn’t just that he knew what to do with his cock, that was a given. But when he entered a fantasy, even one staged for training purposes, he did so as though it were real, and because of that there was serious chemistry. The man was a natural. She hadn’t expected Beetle to jump right in at the deep end, especially when they all knew how nervous Nick was about spanking, but he had acquitted himself very well. Again. She wished like hell she could be in on the aftercare so she could tend his wounded bottom, comfort him, tell him how well he was doing.

God, she must be getting soft. Beetle was exactly right: being able to get it up and hold a wad was only the very basics of what happened at Mount Vegas, and if Nick Chase couldn’t endure a little pain, then he really didn’t belong here. OK, so sometimes they went weeks without a fantasy that involved pain, but sometimes every single fantasy involved spanking or nipple clamps or bondage or some form of BDSM that would make a novice like Nick run for cover. But he hadn’t. He hadn’t run for cover. And she knew Kandi well enough to know she could seriously wield a belt or a cane or anything else that needed wielding.

Elsa had had multiples watching the schoolroom scene. It had been a real voyeuristic experience for her. She’d imagined herself right there in Kandi’s place, spanking and teasing and kissing that lovely arse of Nick’s until he could barely hold his load. Then she imagined spreading her legs and letting him fuck her. Jesus, she’d wanted to be in Kandi’s shoes! But Elsa knew that Kandi, even with her strong arm, was much more gentle than she herself would ever be. And now she could see Nick’s potential, now it was clear he could be a real asset to Mount Vegas, she didn’t want to push too far too fast. And yet, at the same time, she couldn’t keep from wondering just how far she could push him. And if he were ever truly pushed to the limits … Well, her fantasies in that direction would just have to remain fantasies, wouldn’t they? Still, in spite of what she knew, in spite of the reasons why it was bad idea, God, she wanted to spend some rough time with Nick Chase. The little quiver behind her breastbone told her that he might, just might be up for it, and that frightened her even as it intrigued her.

Once Miss Kandi had gently massaged his stinging arse with lotion, and Beetle had offered him a cold bottle of water to drink, the two women had taken him through an array of sex toys that were displayed on work benches lining the wall in the classroom – from nipple clamps to anal beads and everything in between. Some of these toys they demonstrated on each other, others they just explained. After his rough initiation into the classroom, they were fairly gentle on him. Kandi, he learned, had just got back from a two-week vacation in France, which lessened the blow of Tanya’s loss.

‘Pike’ll probably give you the tour of the dungeon tomorrow,’ Beetle said, hefting a dildo that reminded him irresistibly of Horse. ‘You’ve had enough for one day.’ She gave him a teasing quirk of a smile. ‘Don’t look so frightened. You won’t be asked to sub for Pike. But if you’re going to replace Tanya then you need to be familiar with what goes on in his domain. We’re not all good at every aspect of what Mount Vegas does, but we need to know what everyone else is up to because we all participate in putting together the fantasies and making them go well for the clients.’

She looked down at her watch. ‘Pagan’s manning the control room this evening. You’ll be sitting in with him to see how we operate the voyeurs’ side of things. Kandi and I are both performing, so let’s grab a quick bite before it all happens. I’m starving. You up for Mexican, Nick?’

Chapter Eleven

Two nights, several more intensive sessions in the schoolroom, and an expensive haircut later, and Nick was back in wardrobe. Elsa stood next to him, dressed in the black trousers, white shirt, and tie of a dealer, and even in that she looked sexy enough to make his mouth water. Kandi wore the micro-mini flip skirt and bustier of a cocktail waitress and, dressed smart casual, he would play a middle-class businessman relaxing in the casino after a busy day. The play at the blackjack table was to end in a bet that would involve Kandi and Nick having sex in the suite of their client while he watched and orchestrated events.

‘Alex Fenton will be slumming, of course,’ Elsa said to Nick as Minnie put the final touches on her hair, which she wore pinned up with a tortoiseshell comb. ‘He finds the rich and famous boring, finds it more interesting to see how the other half lives. He pays a great deal more for his fantasy because he wants to be in the room with the actors. He’s one of only three people who get that privilege. Of course, there’s a look-but-don’t-touch policy, but that suits him just fine.’ She turned to straighten Nick’s collar. ‘He won’t ask you to do anything too off the wall: nothing more than a little light bondage – maybe tying Kandi to the bed, that sort of thing. Mostly he gets off on watching and calling the shots. I know you’re up for it, Nick, or I wouldn’t have put you in the role. But if you have problems, Kandi’ll help you through.’

‘I wish it were you,’ he said. ‘I’d feel a lot more comfortable with you.’

‘Well it’s not, and anyway, Fenton and I, we … don’t get along very well.’

‘Should I be jealous?’

‘Stupid question. You work for Mount Vegas. You should never be jealous.’

Strangely, he wasn’t nervous about the act. He’d do what he always did. He’d do it for Elsa. And him fucking Kandi, that was fine. He could do it. He’d done it before. That was Mr Fenton’s fantasy. But once it was over, once he’d done his best to get Elsa all wet and squirming, vicariously, he had every intention of making sure he got way more from her than a winning hand at blackjack.

Most of what he knew about blackjack came from playing 21 with his aunt when he was a kid. She had been a dealer for a while. But he listened quietly while Elsa reminded him of the rules, telling him just to stand next to Fenton and act natural while the man called the shots. Elsa assured him that even at the blackjack table, Fenton would manipulate until he was in total control, manipulate for his maximum viewing pleasure. That was a part of the game he loved to play.

Elsa and Kandi left for the casino ahead of Nick. He knew by the time he arrived, Fenton would already be playing.

Elsa had barely got her table set up and finished last-minute mic and camera checks when Fenton sauntered in like he owned the place, and he very well could have, she thought.

‘So lovely to see you again, Elsa.’ Though he never touched her, there was always something that felt physical in the way he observed people. ‘You get more beautiful, more intriguing every time I see you.’

Her smile was nothing more than a spastic jerk of muscles at the corners of her mouth. She’d learned not to trust the man too far.

‘Oh darling, surely you’re not still mad at me for last time, are you?’ He bought $100 worth of chips, and she could feel him looking her up and down and she sorted them out.

‘I’m always mad at you, Fenton. That’s why I’m dealing tonight, and I wouldn’t even be doing that if my team wasn’t all busy.’

His eyes sparkled. ‘And if I hadn’t insisted that you play with me.’

She ignored his remark and dealt his hand.

When he received an ace and a jack right out of the shoot, he laughed out loud. ‘My, my, my, looks like it’s going to be a lucky night. I’m so looking forward to it, Elsa.’

Just then Nick walked in. Elsa felt the little catch of her breath at the sight of him, at the realisation that she could have picked him out in a crowd anywhere. He came to the table, offered a smile and bought $100 worth of chips.

As he gave their voyeur a surreptitious once-over, Elsa did the same to him. Damn, the man looked good! Fenton wasn’t a bad looking man – in fact, he was quite attractive, but in spite of his wealthy patina that, even at its most subtle, screamed to be noticed, it was Nick Chase she couldn’t keep her eyes off. And that wasn’t supposed to happen. He worked for her; he was temporary help, nothing more. She was about to deal the first hand when Kandi sidled up to the table with an empty drink tray.

‘What can I get you two?’

Fenton didn’t wait for Nick’s response. ‘Here’s what I want you to do, gorgeous.’ He laid a crisp $100 bill on her tray. ‘I want you to bring me and my friend here –’ he nodded to Nick ‘– lots of nice, wet drinks and some good luck. You keep the drinks and the luck coming and I’ll make sure there are plenty more of these for your efforts.’ He nodded to the money.

‘Of course, Mr …’

‘Just call me Fenton. I’ll have a Heineken and my friend here … what’s your name?’

‘Nick. Gin and tonic for me, please.’

‘You heard Nick,’ Fenton said with a flirty smile that Kandi returned in kind.

‘Don’t you worry, Fenton, I’ll take real good care of you both.’ As she walked away, Fenton rubbed his hands together and gave Elsa the onceover like she was way more than just the dealer. Of course, he loved nothing as much as wrong-footing her. He’d been doing it for a while now. She just smiled, but Nick gave him a look that could have scorched nails. Jesus, just what she needed: the unpredictable Fenton and a jealous Nick.

‘All right, Fenton said, ‘shall we see if we can win some money from this lovely lady?’

When Kandi returned with their drinks, Nick had just won on double-down with a bust for both Fenton and Elsa. ‘You’re just in time to help Nick celebrate, sweetheart,’ Fenton told her, as Kandi leant over to set Nick’s drink down. ‘That’s his third winning hand since you’ve been gone, and I think that deserves a congratulatory kiss, don’t you?’

She blushed slightly and gave Nick a peck on the cheek.

‘Oh, come on now, sweetheart. That’s the kind of kiss you might give Nick’s grandmother. You can do better than that.’ He slipped another $100 bill onto her tray and winked at Nick.

‘Well, if he really wants me to …’ she said. Her cheeks were flushed and Elsa could see her pulse hammering just below her ear as she held Nick’s gaze for confirmation.

‘Of course he wants you to. Unless he’s gay. You’re not gay, are you, Nick?’

‘Nope. Not gay.’

‘There, you see.’ Fenton nodded to Nick, who offered his best embarrassed chuckle, which Elsa figured wasn’t too hard for him to manage under the circumstances. When Kandi sat her tray down and leant in for a kiss, Nick pulled her close and dipped her low, resulting in a little squeal that was quickly subsumed in a low purr as Nick gave her a good, tonsil-deep tongue ravishing, and the people at the next table cheered and clapped. When he released her she came up with a hand on her chest and a breathless laugh. ‘Wow! Nick, I think I should give you the tip.’

Show-off, Elsa thought, but she liked it and she could tell Fenton did too.

‘You may get to before the night’s over, dear,’ Fenton said. ‘Because I don’t intend to let him keep winning, so he may need to rely on that magical tongue of his.’ As Elsa dealt the cards, he addressed her. ‘Technically, that should have been you kissing Nick, honey. After all you lost the most, didn’t you?’

Elsa offered a tight-lipped smile and dealt. The devious fucker was already manipulating to get what he wanted, and that always made her nervous. The next few hands were pretty much a draw between Fenton, Nick, and the dealer. Elsa kept dealing and smiling, ignoring the way both men looked at her like she was lunch and they were starving. She’d just won a hand when Kandi came back to check on them.

Fenton ordered another beer and nodded to Elsa. ‘Dealer just won, sweetheart, and what a dealer she is. I think you should give her a kiss.’ And she did! She walked right up to Elsa and laid one on her. Elsa had to at least pretend to be a professional, so she didn’t give Kandi the Nick Chase treatment, but there was enough tongue and enough groping to make sure Nick’s cock paid attention – poor behaviour on her part, Elsa was sure, but she just couldn’t help herself.

And, of course, Fenton didn’t miss it. ‘Nice one, darlin’, nice one. Now I need you to do me another favour, sweet cheeks,’ he said, winking at Kandi.

‘Anything,’ she replied with a bright smile.

‘You see, hon, I think our friend Nick here enjoyed that kiss you just gave our lovely dealer maybe even more than you two did.’ He gave a glance under the edge of the table. ‘Can you check it out for me?’

When Kandi blushed hard and looked around the casino, Fenton said, ‘Don’t worry, darlin’, I won’t tell anyone, and –’ he peeled off another $100 and waved it at her ‘– I’ll make it worth your while.’

She moved to stand next to Nick and cautiously ran her hand down beneath the table. ‘Oh, don’t be so nervous, hon. He won’t bite, will you, Nick?’

‘Not unless she wants me to.’ Nick caught his breath and sucked his teeth as Kandi’s hand came to rest against the bulge at his fly.

‘Well?’

She giggled. ‘I think you’re right, Fenton. I think he did enjoy it.’ She gave him a stroke, and he gave a little grunt. And Fenton laughed.

‘She’s a feisty one, isn’t she, Nick?’

‘Can’t say I don’t like it though.’ Nick stood still as she gave him a good groping through his chinos.

‘I think our dealer likes it too.’ Fenton nodded to Elsa’s breasts. ‘Or maybe the air conditioning’s just a little too cool for her.’

Elsa let the unplanned blush slide up her cheeks. She wasn’t supposed to be more than a prop in this little scenario, but there was no disguising the painful swell of her nipples.

‘Now then, darlin’,’ Fenton said to Kandi, ‘why don’t you go off and get our drinks, and think of some more creative ways to reward our next winner.’

‘I’m not sure who actually won that hand,’ Elsa said, dealing the cards.

‘Well, the truth is, I like a good win-win scenario,’ Fenton said. ‘It’s always a pleasure to see someone well satisfied.’

This time, Kandi wasn’t gone very long, and she returned just in time to catch Fenton doing very well for himself with a split, beating the dealer while Nick went bust.

‘Oooh, looks like you’re the winner this time, Fenton.’ She sat the drinks and the tray down. ‘What would you like?’

‘That depends,’ he said with a blinding smile, ‘on just how much of a wild and crazy girl you are, hon.’ He peeled off a couple more hundred-dollar bills from his money clip.

Kandi’s eyes were as big as the chips. Her pulse leapt against her throat and her breasts rose and fell double-time in their excited press against her bustier. ‘What exactly do you have in mind?’

‘Well the way I view it, sweet cheeks, is not so much as I won but Nick here lost, and since you’ve been treating him pretty damn fine so far, I think it might just be time for him to return the favour. What do you say, Nick?’

‘Fair’s fair,’ Nick replied.

Elsa’s heart raced as she wondered what Fenton had up his sleeve now.

He downed the rest of his beer and rubbed his hands together. ‘I’m very good at observing the signs, sweetheart. You’ve heated up our lovely dealer, and certainly you’ve done a damn fine job raising Nick’s temperature. And me, well …’ He chuckled. ‘I’m stiff just thinking about all the fun we’ve been having. That being the case –’ he leant closer to her until Elsa was sure he could look right down the front of her bustier ‘– then I’m guessing you might be just a little bit turned on too, hmm?’

The blush practically exploded on Kandi’s cheeks.

‘Maybe you’re just a little bit wet –’ he nodded to her crotch ‘– down there. Hmmm?’

‘And if I am?’ Her voice was a breathless rasp.

‘Well, you certainly can’t do your job like that, all overheated and distracted, now can you? I’m thinking maybe Nick could do something to – you know – relieve a little bit of that tension.’ He leant closer still. ‘If you’re worried about your boss, don’t. You could say I have a working arrangement with her. What do you say, Nick?’ he said, without looking away from Kandi.

‘I believe in reciprocity,’ Nick said, but Elsa didn’t miss the quick dart of his eyes to her.

‘Great, fantastic! Then Nick, the first thing I want is for you to finger your way into our hot little waitress’ panties and tell me if she’s wet. I’m willing to bet my Aston Martin she is. What do you think, sweetheart? Is that a safe bet?’

‘I think that’s a safe bet for you to make,’ Kandi replied. She dropped into the chair next to Nick and spread her legs, scrunching her skirt with a fist. Nick scooted to the edge of his chair and slid his hand up her thigh, then raked the crotch of her panties aside, and she caught her breath in a girlish gasp.

‘Mmm, do I smell wet pussy?’ Fenton said with a tease of a smile as Kandi ground her arse against the chair and shifted closer to Nick’s probing fingers. ‘What do you think, Nick, can you make her come before our dealer here gets impatient and forces us back to the game?’

‘Gonna do my best,’ Nick said. Then he shot Elsa another glance. ‘But I’m guessing as impatient as our dealer is, I might have to resort to some extreme methods.’

And then he did the damnedest thing! Nick Chase slid down under the blackjack table and in between Kandi’s spread thighs. Kandi let out a little kitten cry.

‘Fuck me!’ Fenton gasped, making no effort to keep his hands away from the bulge growing in his trousers. ‘Don’t know if that’s gonna do her, Nicky boy, but it’s sure as hell about to send me off like a bottle rocket on the Fourth of July. What about you, hon?’ He nodded to Elsa, who could do nothing but smile. Sonovabitch if Nick’s tongue wasn’t doing the tango all over Kandi’s pussy! How the hell did he do that? OK, fair enough, he was sexy, but Elsa dealt with multiple versions of sexy every day. What made Nick Chase so fucking different? She rocked subtly in her practical shoes until she could get the seam of her trousers right where she needed it, then she damn near bit a hole in her lip as Nick’s hand snaked up from under the table to cup and thumb Kandi’s tits, and none too subtly either. Christ, the man was insane! Right here in the middle of the casino! OK, so they’d made arrangements to minimise observers, but still, this was completely sizzling.

Fenton squirmed and shifted, and did everything but pull out his junk and tug on it. And the look on Kandi’s face – the way she nibbled and licked her lips, the way she concentrated and grimaced and sucked little gulps of breath between her teeth – had Elsa’s filthy mind imagining what might be going on underneath the blackjack table. Kandi’s round breasts looked like they’d explode out of the bustier with all the heavy breathing, and Elsa couldn’t help but think about Nick’s cock, tight in his chinos, practically bursting the seam. The thought panicked her. He had to make this last. Damn, what if he couldn’t hold his load? She knew he was doing it for her, but if he blew his wad too soon by being too cavalier, she was going to kill him.

Just then, Kandi gave a little yelp and practically fell off the chair as orgasm rolled up over her.

Nick came up from under the table wet-faced and smiling like the cat that ate the cream. With his eyes locked on Elsa, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his mouth like he’d just had the best meal ever. ‘Now that I’ve paid my debt, Fenton,’ he said, ‘shall we play some blackjack?’

Fenton laughed out loud. ‘Jesus Christ, Nicolas, I don’t know if I can survive much more of that. Not sure our little waitress can either, though I’m sure she’d love to try. And frankly –’ he glanced over at Elsa ‘– I’m getting bored with blackjack when there’s so much other … entertainment to be had, so how about we make another bet? This involves you too, sweet cheeks, so don’t run away,’ he said to Kandi.

He studied her for a moment then he said, ‘Do you like nice cars, darlin’?’ The smile on the man’s face was completely predatory. Elsa’s stomach tightened and the tension her neck ratcheted up a notch, enough to make her forget how horny Nick had just made her.

‘Ooh yes. I love nice cars.’ Kandi’s voice was a breathy purr.

‘I’ll bet my Aston Martin,’ Fenton said.

‘Oh my God,’ she gasped. ‘You mean like the one James Bond drives?’

He nodded and leant so close Elsa was afraid the man would kiss Kandi. ‘Only mine’s nicer. What do you say? Would you like that bet?’

‘Seriously?’ Nick said. ‘You can’t really expect us to believe that you’re willing to give her your car? Because I –’

Fenton raised a hand, stopping him mid-sentence. ‘I didn’t say I’d give her my car. I said I’d bet my car. Not the same thing.’ Then he snapped his fingers and a man who was clearly a bodyguard materialised from behind a nearby slot machine. ‘Alistair, can you go out to the Aston and get the paperwork, please?’

‘Fuck me,’ Nick gasped as the black-suited hulk, not much smaller than Pagan, gave a brisk nod and headed toward the exit. ‘And what does she have to bet? I mean, is she even allowed to play? She’s the waitress. I’m sure there are rules. We are still playing blackjack, aren’t we?’

‘Of course we’re playing blackjack, Nicky boy.’ Fenton smiled. ‘We’re just making the bet a little bit more … interesting.

‘I don’t know about Nick, but I have nothing to bet,’ Kandi said.

‘Oh, you both have something to bet, darlin’, don’t you worry. You have something I want very much.’ His gaze travelled from one of them to the other and then he stroked his chin thoughtfully. ‘If you win, sweetie, you get the Aston Martin, and you can drive it back home tonight.’ The predator showed in his eyes once again. ‘But if I win –’ he looked her up and down ‘– I get your company for the night.’ Before she could respond, he added, ‘I won’t hurt you. I promise. In fact, I won’t even touch you. I want Nick here to do that for me.’

‘You’re kidding me.’ Nick forced an embarrassed laugh. ‘You want us to … While you watch?’

‘That’s right, while I watch.’ Fenton toyed with his chips. ‘What I want is to watch the two of you doing what it’s already clear you’re dying to do, what you’d probably end up doing later tonight anyway. And let’s face it, wouldn’t it be a lot more fun and a lot more kinky to have someone watch, maybe call the shots while you’re doing it?’ Fenton’s smile didn’t waver. ‘If I win, I get the two you for the night. You’re mine for whatever I want you to do to each other. If Nick wins, that means our waitress here wins – what’s your name, sweetheart?’

‘Kandi,’ she managed with some effort.

‘If Nick wins, Kandi gets the Aston Martin.’

‘But what does Nick get?’ she asked.

‘Why, sweet cheeks, Nick’s gonna win either way, isn’t he? If he wins, you get the Aston Martin and, well, I suppose the two of you can fuck each other’s brains out in it if you’re so inclined. However, if I win, you’ll get to find out if Nick can use his cock as well as he does his tongue, and all in the luxury of my very expensive suite. And me, I get to watch. There, you see, a win-win, don’t you think?’

Nick and Kandi gave each other a lingering glance like they were attempting to read each other’s minds, then they both nodded their agreement at the same time. ‘All right. We’re in,’ Kandi said.

‘Good, then shall we play cards?’

On the first hand, the dealer won with an ace and a ten. Both Nick and Fenton went bust. Fenton laughed. ‘Guess we didn’t take the dealer into consideration, did we, Nicky boy? What do you think – maybe our lovely dealer might win the Aston Martin?’

Elsa only smiled demurely and shrugged. But even she had to admit she couldn’t wait to get back to the control room and see how Nick would make Fenton’s fantasy all about her. Fuck, did she really just think that? Before she could dwell on it, she was dealing the next hand. She dealt Fenton two eights for a split, and Nick held at 18. Dealer had the queen of clubs turned up.

‘Don’t worry, Nicky,’ Fenton said, ‘you’re going to win either way. Isn’t that right, sweet cheeks?’ Kandi only smiled and leant closer to Nick. When Elsa dealt a six of diamonds for Fenton’s first eight, it was no surprise when he went bust with the nine of clubs she dealt him next.

Kandi gave a little gasp. Fenton chuckled. ‘Looks like you’re one step closer to that Aston Martin, hon.’

‘Tell us, Fenton, what colour’s Kandi’s car?’ Nick asked. ‘Is it silver like James Bond’s?’

‘Kandi’s car is still my car, and those fantasies you’re having of the two of you in the back seat are as close to that car as you’re going to get. ’ Fenton said with a cool smile. ‘It’s black, by the way.’ He nodded to Elsa and everyone leant close as she dealt him ten of clubs.

Kandi practically bounced off her chair and Nick chuckled. ‘Tough luck on that one, Fenton. Personally I like black cars better than silver, don’t you, Kandi?’

Fenton only smiled and tapped the table for Elsa to hit him again. Everyone held their breath as Elsa dealt Fenton a two of hearts.

‘Oh my God,’ Kandi managed. ‘Oh my God! I don’t know if I can –’

Fenton held up his hand. ‘Game’s not over yet.’ He nodded to Elsa. ‘I could lose it all to our lovely dealer here.’

And Elsa flipped over her second card, a four of spades.

A little yelp escaped Kandi’s throat. She grabbed the edge of the table for dear life. ‘I don’t know if I can, Fenton. Dear God, I don’t know if I can do this. I mean, I want to, but … I’ve never done anything like this before.’

Fenton’s eyes were suddenly like ice. ‘A bet’s a bet, Kandi. You know that.’

The little whimper Kandi managed sounded very convincing.

‘However,’ he said, with a sudden bright smile. ‘This was not your typical situation, was it? I mean it was a split: double the chances, double the bet.’ Just then his bodyguard returned and handed him a leather portfolio. ‘That being the case, I did lose one bet, therefore –’ he took the portfolio from the bodyguard and handed it to Kandi, who stared at him, brow drawn, eyes wide ‘– the Aston Martin’s all yours, sugar. Won fair and square.’

Before anyone at the table could do more than gasp, he turned his attention to Elsa. ‘As for the second hand, however, the way I see it I won and the dealer lost. Therefore, Kandi, you can go back to your job several hundred dollars and one Aston Martin richer. And I’ll take Nick and the dealer off to my room for entertainment.’

There was a joint inhale of breath from dealer, waitress, and Nick. For a second, it felt like the whole casino was freeze-framed around them. Elsa heard buzzing in her ears; her shoulders stiffened, anger roiled up her spine. The fucker was manipulating her again. Then the dealer completely disappeared, and it was 100 per cent Elsa Crane who spoke. ‘No. That wasn’t part of the deal. I’m not part of the deal.’

Fenton held her in his usual amused gaze. ‘Why not, Elsa? You both work for Mount Vegas, so what difference does it make? They all work for you, and I want him and you.’

‘I’m not a part of the deal, Fenton,’ Elsa repeated.

‘I think that you are, darling. I said there would be a bet placed at the blackjack table. I said it would involve a couple going back to my room to fuck while I watched. I didn’t specify who, so now I am. I want you and Nick. Now come on, time’s wasting and I’m anxious to enjoy my winnings.’

He turned and gestured them to follow with the kind of confidence of someone who had no doubt he’d be obeyed. Elsa cursed out loud, then motioned to Nick and they both followed Fenton to the elevator banks while Kandi, holding the deed to her new Aston Martin, looked on stunned.

As they got into the elevator, Elsa hissed, ‘If you ever pull a stunt like this with me again, Fenton, I’ll cut you off. I don’t care how much money you offer.’

The man’s smile was a poor attempt at contrition. ‘My dearest Elsa, I promise you, I’ll be a good boy from now on and not break your rules, but this –’ he looked from her to Nick and back again ‘– well, this was just too good to miss.’ When they both gave him a questioning glance, he threw open his arms and nearly doubled over with a belly-laugh. ‘Seriously? Come now. I’m a real voyeur, Elsa, not one of your wannabes. I take great pleasure in seeing what no one else sees, and that means reading the signs, darlin’, reading the signs. And the chemistry sizzling between the two of you, even while you were playing your parts – and quite nicely, I might add – would outdazzle the lights of Vegas.’ He leant closer to her and his smile broadened. ‘I don’t know what’s going on between you, but when we get back to the suite, with me to orchestrate our night’s entertainment, I fully expect the event to register on the Richter scale.’

Chapter Twelve

Inside, the suite was softly lit and the lounge was dark leather and soft carpets. The blackout curtains were open wide and the lights of the city twinkled beyond. Nick wondered if perhaps the watcher liked to be watched. On the glass coffee table sat a bottle of Dom Perignon chilling in a bucket of ice. Fenton opened it and filled three flutes, then nodded for the pair to sit opposite him.

Nick couldn’t hold back the little hiss between his teeth as his sore arse touched down. ‘Have they had you in the dungeon?’ Fenton asked, as Nick shifted on the sofa to find the least painful position.

‘Training,’ Nick replied. Elsa shot him a sharp glance and then turned her attention back to Fenton.

‘A trainee,’ the man said. ‘This just keeps getting better and better.’ He lifted his glass. ‘A toast to satisfaction.’ He tossed his drink back and rubbed his hands together. ‘Now, Elsa, there’s a lovely bottle of complimentary lotion on the vanity next to the sink in the bathroom. Get it, please.’

Without a word, she did as she was told. When she returned, Fenton nodded to Nick. ‘Give the man’s poor stinging arse a little care first off. I want you both in good form. Nick, lower your trousers and lean over the sofa. Let’s have a look.’

Nick did as he was told. Jesus, he couldn’t believe he was baring his arse for some rich bastard he’d never met before just for the opportunity to fuck Elsa Crane.

Fenton let out a low whistle. ‘Youch! Bet that hurt. Belt?’

‘Yup.’

‘Did Elsa do it?’

‘Nope.’

‘Didn’t think so,’ Fenton said, ‘or it would have been a whole lot worse.’

The sound that came from Elsa’s throat was a low growl. And what the hell? Was he totally out of his fucking mind? Somehow the idea of Elsa laying hard stripes across his backside was not only appealing, but it was downright hot. His cock pointed to the sofa he was bent over.

‘Elsa, if you would, please …’ Fenton nodded her toward Nick’s exposed butt. ‘No, wait.’

She paused before opening the bottle.

‘First take off that ridiculous dealer’s get-up,’ he told her. ‘I can’t think of anything less appropriate for you to wear, my darling. I’d much prefer to see what’s underneath, wouldn’t you Nick?’

‘I would,’ Nick replied, turning to watch Elsa step out of her shoes and drag her tie from around her neck as though it had somehow offended her. Then she efficiently lost the shirt and trousers. Both men gasped their appreciation as she stood before them in tiny white lace panties and a matching bra that cupped her like hands, barely covering her nipples. It displayed very well her rounded fullness and the valley in between, the valley in which Nick would love to bury his face and linger.

‘Exquisite,’ Fenton said. ‘Elsa, you are absolutely stunning. I’ve always had such a crush on you, you know?’

Nick bristled.

‘I’m flattered, Fenton, but I’m not your type.’ Elsa turned her attention back to Nick’s wounded arse.

‘Wait. I’ve changed my mind.’ Fenton scooted forward on the sofa and began unbuttoning his shirt. ‘Elsa, forget the lotion. I’m sure your warm, wet tongue would feel much better on Nick’s sore bottom. I want to see you bathe those welts and kiss them better. I want to watch while you make the man squirm with something other than pain. Perhaps not your forte, darling, but I’m guessing you’re extremely versatile.’

If looks could kill, Nick was pretty sure Fenton would be way dead. And there was that little hitch again, the little jerk in his cock at the disturbing yet intriguing thought of Elsa dealing out pain along with pleasure as easily as she did cards at the blackjack table.

Nick’s cock went from half-mast to full attention, and Fenton heaved a happy sigh. ‘There, you see. The man likes that idea a lot, Elsa. Now, you, Nick, stay bent over. Spread your legs a little more. I want to see the reaction of your tight asshole when Elsa goes to work on those muscular buttocks of yours.’

Nick did as he asked, feeling way more exposed than he had with just his cock waving for attention.

It was uncanny how Fenton seemed to catch his thoughts like he’d fished them right out of his head. ‘Don’t worry, Nick. I’m not going to fuck your ass. But I do love to watch the way that filthy sphincter responds to foreplay. You’d be amazed at just how telling an asshole can be. It’s nearly as much of a giveaway to the state of arousal as a hard schlong.’ He waved a hand. ‘Now go on, Elsa, make our Nick’s poor, wounded butt feel better.’

Nick had expected to feel Elsa’s anger translated into the way she touched him. He couldn’t have been more wrong. First she placed strong hands on each of his hipbones and drew him back until he could feel the feathered humidity of her breath low on his spine and down the parting of his buttocks, like a warm breeze over his anus. Then she pressed a very soft, very tender kiss where his back met the swell of his buttocks and, Jesus, he was undone! Somewhere a long way off, he heard Fenton sigh. Another kiss settled at the intimation of each butt cheek and he felt her breath travel the valley in between before her tongue pressed flat and wet just where his left thigh ended and the swell of his arse began. Then it slid like warm silk all the way up and over his buttock. Nick shuddered, shivered, fighting a feeling somewhere in his chest that migrated down low in his belly then rested tight and urgent against his heavy balls.

‘Oh God,’ he cried out. ‘Elsa!’

‘I know,’ she whispered as the next laving of her tongue came up his right arse cheek. ‘I know, Nick.’ She reached around him and sheathed his cock in her fist, pressing her thumb hard against the head, which was already slippery with precome. ‘Just hold it. Hold it all down low and tight, and I promise you, it’ll be so worth the wait.’

There were ten stripes across his arse. Five on each cheek. Nick had counted, Nick had felt every single one of them as though they had been branded into his brain as well as carved into his backside, but this, this was far more intimate, far more frightening and, God, he didn’t know how he’d be able to hold back the flood, but he wanted to, he needed to for Elsa. He shivered as another long lap of her tongue traversed his backside, ending in a tiny nip of a kiss that he felt all the way to the crown of his head. Christ! How could he endure? How could he survive Elsa Crane unleashed against his wounds, unleashed against the depth of his need? He hadn’t even known that need was there until Elsa.

The next trail of her tongue curved back on itself and shivered teasingly down the crack of his arse, accented with a little press just above the gripping of his anus, and this time he grabbed the head of his cock, thumbed it as though he were holding on for dear life, and that’s exactly how it felt.

‘Elsa,’ he whispered. And, honestly, her name was the only word in the English language he could recall when the tongue kisses were joined by the tip of her little finger worrying its way into his arsehole ever so slightly.

Nick heard Fenton’s fly opening, heard the man gasp and curse softly. But none of that mattered. None of that existed at the moment. He was lost in the hypnotic lavings of Elsa’s tongue. Ten long, leisurely, unbelievably tender laps, while her finger wriggled and teased just at the boundary of his grudging anal knot.

‘Will you hurt me, Elsa?’ It took all of his breath and all of his brain to ask.

‘She will if I tell her to.’ Fenton’s interruption felt like a slap. ‘And you’ll hurt her if I say.’

Nick had the sudden urge to do a little hurting of his own to the man watching. But Elsa’s stroking of his flank calmed him; it focused him on her, on her touch, on her scent, on the thick heaviness of her breath as it spilled down his spine and over his arse. He didn’t give a shit about Fenton. He was there for Elsa; nothing else, no one else.

‘Your ass feels better, doesn’t it, Nick?’ Fenton didn’t wait for an answer. ‘And now, I want you to take off Elsa’s bra.’

As Elsa turned her back to allow his efforts, he was stunned by how empty he felt without the small intrusion of her finger. He made an awkward attempt to unhook her bra, then she laid her hands over his and guided him. As he released her, he followed the waistband around to cup her fullness and the hitch of her breath was almost a little sob as his thumbs found her plumped nipples. She leant back into his embrace and turned her head to offer him her mouth, her throat, the cradle of her collarbone and, God, he was in heaven, with his cock pressed up tight above the pillows of her bottom, with her well-muscled arms lifted to stroke his hair, to pull him closer to her.

‘Yes,’ Fenton whispered, ‘I was right about the two of you. Raw heat. Nick, pick the bra up and bring it with us to the bedroom. You’ll need it.’

Nick hoiked up his boxers and trousers, holding them over his arse just enough that he could walk, then he followed Fenton and Elsa.

The bed was an enormous four-poster with room for the whole Mount Vegas team to wallow about. With a flick of a switch, the room was flooded in soft strains of R&B, but before Nick could take in more of the surroundings, Fenton spoke. ‘Elsa, I want you face up in the middle of the bed. Good, that’s good. And now, Nick, I want you to take that lovely bra and tie Elsa’s hands.’

When he balked, Elsa nodded her consent.

‘Oh, and for fuck’s sake, Nick, lose the trousers and boxers.’

Nick did as he was told, then followed instructions that resulted in Elsa’s hands tied to the bedframe, wrists together, arms stretched above her head.

‘Now then, Nick, I’m assuming that Elsa’s been calling the shots so far in your relationship, and even if she didn’t give you the welts on your arse, she gave permission. I know what a controlling bitch she can be.’ Before Nick could respond to the insult, Fenton continued. ‘But for tonight, I want you to take control, Nick.’ He pulled a straight-backed chair close to the bed. ‘As you can see, Elsa Crane is helpless before you. What I want you to do is torture her.’

‘What?’ Nick came up off the bed. In his mind, he already had a stranglehold on the bastard, but Fenton raised both hands and offered a back-pedalling laugh.

‘It’s not what you think, Nick. There’ll be no whips, no belts, no flails. Nothing so unsubtle. What I want you do is see just how much self-control our Elsa has when you pleasure her.’

It was the moan from Elsa’s throat that surprised Nick, the look of – was it panic? – that crossed her face. Fenton’s chuckle was positively wicked. ‘Oh yes, Elsa Crane, you are going to lie there completely helpless and let Nick have his way with you while I watch.’ He nodded to Nick.

With his heart racing and his brain barely able to believe what he was about to do, Nick placed a plump white pillow under Elsa’s arse, then he shimmied her lace panties down over her hips and off. With them, he lashed one of her ankles to the bedpost. Fetching her tie from the lounge, he bound the other with that. It was hard to concentrate around the tug of his heavy load, but he secured her spread-eagle, the heavy swell of her pussy displayed atop the pillow like some extravagantly expensive piece of jewellery in one of Vegas’s exclusive boutiques. Then he practically fell tongue-first into the delicious breach of her, slick and sticky and sweet for him.

Christ, her pussy was wet for him! That did things to him. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how to make a woman moist when the rare opportunity arose. But somehow making Elsa Crane wet for him, just for him, was a whole different level of foreplay. And as much as he wanted to unload into the heat of her, he wanted to revel in her own desire, to bask in her need, her need for him. His tongue took the lead, dipping and lapping between her labia while the rest of him, on an almost uncanny level, tuned in to the way she breathed, the beat of her heart, the heat of her skin, the blush crawling over her breasts, the stippling of her areolas as her arousal grew. The rich, midnight scent of her flooded his nostrils and sharpened his own ache. Just when she found the rhythm that he knew would get her there, just when her little grunts and mews intensified with purpose, he gave her clit a nip and pulled away. She growled her frustration, making a worthless effort to raise her pubis off the pillow to get closer to him.

He turned his attention to the impatient bulge of her nipples, giving each a hard suck and a sharp bite between his front teeth.’

‘Fuck,’ she whispered. ‘Oh fuck, Nick! Fuck.’

Oh yes, she wanted. She needed. ‘I know, Elsa,’ he whispered. ‘I know.’ He ran his tongue down between her breasts and over her belly to penetrate her navel in sharp little thrusts, and he felt the shiver climb her spine.

‘How long can you hold it, Elsa?’ Fenton’s voice sounded like it had been rubbed with sandpaper, breathlessly forcing its way into the room. ‘I want to know, darling.’

Fenton was only background noise as Nick kissed and nipped down over Elsa’s mons, resting his chin for a moment in the soft spring of pubic curls, looking up her body at the rounded rise and fall of her. Then he continued his migration south to the place where she needed serious pressure, serious tongue action. There he breathed only whispers of kisses before opening her engorged, dark folds with two fingers to see the deep, tight hole, shimmering in her mother of pearl juices, juices that were there to accommodate his cock, to ease his penetration, to welcome him into her anxious depths. And Christ, he so wanted to go there now, but instead, he swirled a finger and then two into the silky wet of her, and her moan was belly-deep, animal harsh as every muscle of her tightened, gripped and strained toward him.

‘You want to get closer, don’t you?’ he whispered against her clit, and she jerked and whimpered. ‘You want to get closer to me.’ He slid his fingers deeper into her tight grip and nibbled on her labia. ‘I want you closer, Elsa. I want you more than close; I want to be inside you.’

Her response was a convulsive sob.

‘No whispering, Nick. If you’re talking dirty to our Elsa, I want to hear.’

Nick ignored him, going down deep into her once again, then wriggling and thrusting his fingers while he slurped and licked and nibbled his way up over her clit. She tasted of salt and metal, of honey and butter melted on hot bread. She tasted of everything that would sate a man’s hunger while driving him insane until he could totally devour her. Then, just when she found her rhythm, just when the labouring of her breath, the grinding of her hips assured him she was close, he pulled back again. She sobbed and cursed and struggled against her restraints as he nipped and licked his slow way down her thigh, then he sat back carefully on his haunches, making sure that he was in her line of sight. He ran his open palm up between her drenched folds until she bucked off her pillow and whimpered, until his hand glistened with her juices. Then, with his eyes locked on hers, he began to stroke his cock, easing the friction with those lovely juices, thrusting into his fisted grip, imagining how her tight pussy would feel around him. It was his rhythm she caught, breathlessly grinding and humping as best she could in her bound position, her pussy gripping and releasing, gripping and releasing, darkening the pristine pillowcase with her flood.

‘How long can he keep it up, Elsa?’ Fenton’s voice rasped into the orgy of heavy breathing. ‘How long can you hold back? I’ve always wanted to know. I’ve always wanted to watch your control shatter.’

Nick gave her just enough time to catch her breath, just enough time to plateau before he began another tongue dance across her slippery, tasty, fragrant pout. Her head lolled from side to side, lips parted, breath coming in desperate gasps. Her breasts rose and fell and undulated beneath the high rise of her nipples and, God, she was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

He pulled away and slid up her body until he straddled her lovely, perspiring face, then he pushed his cock into her mouth. She took him with such enthusiasm that she gagged and sputtered, before he cradled her head, fingers tangled in her hair, and guided her until she got used to the length of him. Then she opened her throat and worked her tongue and drew him in until he was caught up, until he was almost lost in her, until he almost forgot his role in this whole fantasy. With an effort that felt as though it ripped him open, he pulled out and slid back down until his mouth met hers, until his fumbling fingers found their way back to her slit. He strummed her clit with his thumb and tugged at the swell of her labia until she half moaned, half cried into his mouth.

‘Nick, fuck me. I need you to fuck me, I need you to …’

The deep-chested moans coming from Fenton told Nick that he wasn’t going to hold out much longer. ‘Fuck her, Nick. I need you to fuck her,’ Fenton managed between gritted teeth, doing battle with his cock like he was riding a bucking bronco, making the chair skitter and shake beneath his arse.

Nick was ready, more than ready. He could barely remember his own name, so lost in Elsa Crane was he, so enthralled by every curve, every slope, every rise of her. He shifted and manoeuvred, feeling her hard nipples graze his as he swallowed her words down into his throat. ‘Fuck me, Nick. Please. I need you to fuck me.’

Running a hand over her soft curls and opening her with a couple of fingers, he positioned himself. Then he whispered against her ear, ‘I won’t fuck you, Elsa, but I will make love to you.’ Then he took his weight on his knees and let his desperate cock lead the way. A single thrust. That was all it took, and he was sheathed deep and tight in the pillowed jewel case of her pussy. That he could contain himself at all was stunning. That he had any control of any kind seemed an impossibility, caught and captured inside her body as he was. And yet he held himself, held his load, held everything back in the leaden weight of his balls until he could take her with him. He could sense the building of her need, need that felt like it would burst her bonds and devour him whole. With each thrust, Elsa writhed and growled helplessly beneath him, unable to do anything he didn’t allow. She grabbed at his cock from her depths and sucked at him in a grip that made him surge and tense and thrust and rake against her. It was a grip that demanded everything of him, even bound as she was, until all of his senses overloaded. As orgasm exploded over her body like a living thing, he fumbled to free her hands, tossing the bra aside as her arms encircled him, her fists clenched tight against his upper back, as she buried her face against his neck and howled. The constricting spasms of her release sent him over the edge, and he spilled himself into her, spilled himself in harsh, oxygen-deprived grunts, spilled himself into the warm, tight depths of her while she held on as though her life depended on it. From his beleaguered chair, Fenton unloaded his wad across the plush pile of the carpet.

Under the circumstances, Nick couldn’t imagine that they would doze, let alone fall asleep, yet they did. He had a vague recollection of Pike undoing the rest of Elsa’s bonds and gently laying a blanket over them. Then, with his still cock deep inside her, Elsa curled her body around him. Nick was sure he must be dreaming at that point. Surely falling asleep with Elsa Crane wrapped around him had to be a dream.

Chapter Thirteen

It was Beetle who delivered the breakfast trays from room service, settling them quietly on the dressing table. But it was the weight on his chest that roused Nick from sexy dreams of Elsa Crane to the flesh and blood reality of the woman wrapped around him like a second skin. The softness of her hair tickled his chin, her breasts pressed up tight against his chest. With a surge of testosterone, he realised that his hard cock was still buried in her fist-tight grip, and the wet stickiness against his thigh was a reminder of how hot last night had been. The shifting of his hips was almost an involuntary thing, a thing that caused Elsa to moan and grip even in her sleep. Nick’s balls tightened at the thought that Elsa might actually be dreaming of him.

When Beetle saw that he was awake, she placed a finger to her lips, nodded to the trays, and left. There was no sign of Fenton. At some point the blackout drapes had been drawn, cocooning the room in heavy shadows. Elsa moaned again and wriggled in his arms, the clench of her pussy causing him to grunt and catch his breath. He was torn between ravishing her where she lay, filling her dreams with sexy heat, or just lying there with his cock nestled inside and watching her sleep. He slid a hand down her back to rest on the swell of her bottom, and from her dream space, she ground her pubis against him. He held his breath, trying not to wake her and willing himself not to hump like some damned dog after a bitch in heat.

She had never answered his question – if she would hurt him. Somehow she didn’t have to. Hell, the woman didn’t even look harmless in her sleep. She was totally a take-control sort of person, and last night must have been hard for her. Fenton had known that and had delighted in taking away her control. Nick’s cock surged again as he thought about what might have happened if it had been him tied to the bed and Elsa given free rein to torture him. How would she have done that? Would it have involved pain? Would he have seen her differently in daylight if she had administered pain with his pleasure? He became aware of the subtle ebb and flow at the place of their joining, almost thrusting, but not quite, almost humping but not quite. Surely she had to be awake. He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head, and she sighed.

‘I smell breakfast,’ she mumbled into his nape.

‘I smell us,’ he said, cupping her arse and sliding a finger down between her buttocks to stroke where her labia splayed around his cock.

‘Mmm.’ She sighed. ‘I need to come, Nick. Think you can handle that?’ She gave his cock a pussy squeeze that couldn’t have been tighter if she’d fisted it, and he sucked breath between his teeth. Then he rolled with her until she was beneath him and she wrapped her legs around him and groaned. ‘Oh God, yes! I don’t need foreplay, I don’t need finessing, Nick, I just want you to fuck me. We both need it.’

She bit back the last word, because, really, she was preaching to the converted. It wasn’t Fenton calling the shots this morning. Early morning awkwardness and need dictated a quick thrust and ride down into the expensive bedding, every sleep-stiffened muscle clenched and all breathing suspended. Nick thrust, and Elsa gripped. They grunted and strained out their orgasms in a matter of minutes, then collapsed in a heap until breath returned along with thoughts of something other than fucking.

Elsa broke the connection, shoving him to one side in a warm, wet flood against his thigh as she pushed her way to the edge of the bed. She reached for a towel that someone had thoughtfully placed on the bedside table and began to clean herself.

‘Where’s Fenton?’ Nick asked, finding a towel on his side too.

‘Probably gone back to his room.’ She tossed the towel and headed to the breakfast trays. Shoving a piece of bacon into her mouth, she munched, then brought the tray back to the bed and settled it onto her lap. Nick did the same. ‘This wasn’t his suite,’ she said. ‘This was rented for his fantasy. And since he so blatantly broke the rules and the suite’s paid for, I guess the team figured we might as well enjoy it.’ She cocked her head. ‘Funny, though. I’ve never fallen asleep after an act before.’

‘I’d imagine not,’ Nick said. ‘Certainly not if it involved having your ass beaten.’

She offered him a smile that was more like a grimace. ‘My ass doesn’t often get beaten, Nick.’

He studied her for a moment over his coffee cup. ‘You don’t like not being in control, do you?’

‘No. I don’t.’ She shoved a forkful of eggs into her mouth and swallowed without chewing. ‘And Fenton knows that.’ It was then they both noticed the hotel stationery envelope addressed to Elsa propped on the dressing table next to the mirror. ‘No doubt it’s from Fenton.’ She sat her tray aside and shuffled out of bed again to grab it. ‘Probably an apology for fucking with last night’s act, an apology he doesn’t mean.’ She opened the envelope. ‘Fenton always gets exactly what he wants, but he has a helluva lot more fun getting it when he’s sneaky about it.’

‘Then it’s not the first time he’s pulled a stunt like that?’

‘He pretty much does it every time, and I pretty much tell him I’ll never work with him again no matter how much he pays, and he pretends to be contrite, and I pretend to believe him. Then the next time he wants a fantasy, he pays Mount Vegas an obscene amount of money, and we plan everything out and brace ourselves for whatever the man throws at us this time.’

As she sat down on the bed and flicked open the folded letter, he reached over and stroked her thigh. ‘I like what he threw at us this time.’

With Elsa, a growl and a grumble at Fenton’s fucking with their act would have been as likely as a grab at his cock, but what he got was nothing. As she read the note her brow wrinkled, her lips tightened and thinned as though whatever words she wanted to speak, she held back.

‘What is it? What did he say?’ Nick asked, leaning over for a peek.

‘Nothing.’ Elsa shoved the note back into the envelope. ‘The man’s an idiot. He thinks he knows it all.’ She stood and began gathering her clothes from where they were strung across the suite, and Nick felt his stomach knot.

‘Elsa? What is it? What’s going on?’

‘I’ve gotta go,’ she said, leaning forward to ease her breasts back into the bra she’d just picked up. He followed her into the living room where she shoved into her trousers and blouse. ‘It’s a busy day.’

‘Surely not too busy for breakfast and a quick shower?’

She exploded. ‘Damn it, Nick! You’re not the boss. Don’t tell me what I need.’

She grabbed her bag and her shoes and practically ran for the door, leaving Nick wondering what the hell had just happened.

Elsa was blessedly alone in the elevator. She hated to be seen like this. It wasn’t so much that she looked like she’d had a wild night. Lots of people in Vegas looked that way before one in the afternoon. It was that she felt shell-shocked, like her skin had suddenly become too thin to protect her, too thin to hide behind. She wouldn’t let the letter get to her. Fenton was an idiot. He didn’t know anything. He didn’t understand anything.

She took a taxi over to the main offices of Mount Vegas, and since it was early, she made it up to her suite unseen. Once inside, she locked the door and practically fell into the chair behind her desk. She grabbed for the half-empty bottle of water in her bottom drawer and downed it all before she dug the letter out of her bag, opened it and reread it.

My dearest Elsa,

You were stunning, as always. I never doubted for a moment that you would be. Somehow I feel as though this time I should pay you double for letting me see so much more of Elsa Crane than you’ve ever allowed me to see before.

You and Nick are amazing together. I was totally taken aback by your performance. Though of course, it wasn’t a performance, was it? Love and sex, in those wild, frantic, early stages, when a couple can’t get enough of each other – when, in fact, they may not yet even know that they are in love – are the most powerful experiences for a watcher. They offer so very much more than just a good, voyeuristic orgasm. And though I’m very jealous that someone else finally won your heart, I can hardly hold it against you now that I’ve seen the two of you together. I hope you’ve been able to be honest with him about your situation, darling. Nick seems like the kind of person who would understand.

Thanks again for another wonderful experience.

Love,

Alex Fenton

The man was an idiot, she reminded herself again. He didn’t know anything about her or about her heart, and Nick Chase didn’t deserve to be dragged into the middle of all of this. He especially didn’t deserve any of the craziness she could offer him.

She shoved back from the desk, stripping as she went, and padded across her private lounge to the bathroom where she pushed into the shower, willing herself not to think about Nick Chase. And yet there was a part of her that regretted washing his scent off her body, regretted washing away the remains of their passion. Her insides quivered with muscle memory and she leant back against the tiles and relived the whole experience, even as she warned herself not to.

Nick left the hotel, stunned. He’d showered quickly and managed to retrieve his clothes from his locker in the Mount Vegas wardrobe suite unseen. Fine with him. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone. Twice he’d attempted to call Elsa so they could have it out. But he’d lost courage before his BlackBerry could ring through. It was just as well. He was too angry over the way she’d fled to do anything but make matters worse.

He spent the drive home trying to figure out what had happened. What the hell was in the letter that had set Elsa off? In a surge of jealousy, he wondered if Fenton and Elsa were lovers. Fenton seemed to have intimate details about Elsa that a lover might have. But then this was Mount Vegas, and intimacy was a relative term.

Nick pushed his way into his house, trying to force his thoughts away from the letter and Elsa’s response to it. He had his own business to tend to, he reminded himself. He needed to touch base with Lou-Ann, find out how things were with the new driver, set a time to meet over the monthly expenses.

In the kitchen, he went through the motions of making coffee. He had just flipped the switch on the machine and grabbed a Pop Tart from the cupboard when Tanya appeared from the living room, and he nearly dropped his breakfast. ‘Tanya!’ he exclaimed. ‘Are you all right? What are you doing here?’

‘Hello, Nick. I’m sorry that we invaded your house, but I still have key that you let me borrow, and since this is important, I thought that you wouldn’t mind.’

‘We?’ Nick managed, instead of the curse that was right on the tip of his tongue over the invasion of his much-needed privacy.

‘Come.’ Tanya took him by the hand. ‘There is someone that I would like you to meet.’ She led him into the living room.

There, in front of Nick’s bookshelf, stood a man who could have passed for a bouncer except for the suit even Nick could tell was expensive.

‘Mr Chase, I’m Detective Victor Havers.’ It was then Nick noticed the man was handling one of his pyritic ammonites.

‘Please put that back.’ He spoke without thinking and grabbed it away. ‘It has sentimental value.’

The man offered an apologetic smile that didn’t seem very apologetic at all. ‘Sorry, Mr Chase, or do you prefer Dr Chase?’ Before Nick could respond, he continued, ‘I’ve always found fossils fascinating. What is it … palaeontology, right?’ He ran his finger along the shelf where some of Nick’s favourite fossils were displayed. ‘I’m sure you can understand how it would appeal to me, digging up the dead and trying to uncover their secrets. It’s just forensics, Mr Chase, isn’t it? And sometimes there’s not much left to go on at the end of the day, but there’s always something fascinating about it. Yes, fascinating.’ He dragged his gaze away from the fossils to settle on Nick. ‘And interesting to me that a palaeontologist would end up here in Vegas driving a limo.’

The skin prickled along the back of Nick’s neck. ‘Man’s gotta make a living. Why are you here?’ After what had happened with Elsa this morning, he was struggling with his manners.

That didn’t seem to bother Victor Havers. He only smiled, just before he dropped the bomb. ‘I’m here because we need your help to bring Elsa Crane and her Mount Vegas gang to justice.’

Nick shot Tanya a quick glance, doing his best to keep his surprise, and his anger, under wraps. ‘As far as I know, Elsa Crane hasn’t done anything that warrants the police’s attention.’ He hoped his voice sounded more confident than he felt. Elsa had secrets, he was sure of it. And what Mount Vegas was doing might be very unconventional, but Elsa wasn’t the kind of person who would be on the outs with the law, was she?

Havers plopped down onto the sofa without being asked, and nodded to the recliner. ‘Sit down, Mr Chase,’ he said, as though he owned the place. Tanya sat down next to him, but Nick remained standing.

The cop’s smile had congeniality plastered all over it, and yet for some reason, Nick couldn’t quite buy it. ‘Tanya told me about her contract, which I’m sure you know is not a legally binding document, therefore it’s unlikely she would ever actually get her bonus.’

‘Well, good, then. I’ll turn in my notice at Mount Vegas and get back to my life,’ Nick said.

‘No!’ Tanya practically jumped out of her seat. ‘Nick, you mustn’t do that. You are in good position to help me, to help the police get to the bottom of the situation with Elsa Crane and the Mount Vegas.’

‘Rich people paying a stupid amount of money to watch someone else play out their sexual fantasies. I hardly see how that’s a threat to the American way, Detective Havers,’ Nick said.

‘Mr Chase –’ As Havers leant forward and clasped his hands in his lap, Nick couldn’t keep from noticing a gold band with a chunky diamond on his sausage-sized ring finger. ‘Surely you’re not naïve enough to think that fantasies are all the Crane woman and her gang deal in.’

‘And surely you’re not naïve enough to think I’d believe you without more evidence than what you’ve given me so far,’ Nick replied.

‘Nick, has Elsa told you anything about the big event happening in few weeks’ time with the people from London?’ Tanya asked.

‘You mean the fantasy for Mrs Keyser? Yes, Elsa’s mentioned it. Why?’

Havers took over. ‘We have reason to believe that the whole act is a cover-up for a drug deal going down at that time, a big one. And as for the English folks coming in – well, they’re just a distraction. We suspect mob connections.’

Try though he might, Nick couldn’t imagine Elsa would have any sort of connections with organised crime. And he certainly couldn’t imagine Elsa or any of the Mount Vegas gang involved in dealing drugs. There was a strict “no drink or drugs” policy on all Mount Vegas acts, no matter what the fantasy called for. Even last night’s champagne toast was barely a touching to the lips, and the drinks in the casino were all non-alcoholic, except for Fenton’s. Nick had never seen any evidence that anyone used drugs and as far as he could tell, even after hours, the drinking was minimal at Mount Vegas. People were too busy fucking. It surprised him more than a little that he had absorbed so much of the Mount Vegas philosophy so quickly, and that he believed it. Something definitely didn’t feel right.

‘Go on, Havers. I’m listening,’ Nick said.

The detective scooted forward on the edge of the sofa and undid his jacket so Nick got a glimpse of his holster. ‘No doubt in the short time you’ve been at Mount Vegas, Elsa Crane has run a clean ship. She hasn’t had time to trust you yet, but the fact that she’s let you into her tight little circle at all says it won’t be long.’

‘So what is it you want from me, exactly?’ Nick asked, wishing Havers would just go away and leave him alone.

‘Details, Mr Chase. We want details. The police are planning a raid. We know some of the details from Tanya, but the dates and times of the operation hadn’t been nailed down when she was dismissed so unfortunately. We figure Elsa Crane got suspicious of her and that’s the real reason she let her go. So now we need someone from the inside who can give us those details, and everyone else within Mount Vegas seems loyal to a tee. All we really need from you, Mr Chase, is dates, times, and places. That sort of thing. Of course, any other information you can give us would be an added bonus. You’ll in no way be involved in our operation, and there won’t be any risk to you personally.’

‘And what about your bonus?’ Nick asked Tanya. ‘What about your mother’s surgery?’

‘Oh, we’ll see to Tanya’s mother, Nick. There are charities and support groups that will help her get what she needs. And the fact that Tanya’s helped the police out won’t go amiss. Of course, we’ll see that your name and reputation are kept out of the papers when the news breaks, as it inevitably will. Wouldn’t want anything bad reflecting on your business, now would we?’

In the kitchen, Nick could hear the coffee machine gurgling out the last of the brew into the pot. The only other sound was the quiet hum of the air conditioner. He was pissed off at Tanya for inviting herself and Havers right on in and making themselves at home. Plus, for some reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on, he really didn’t like the guy. ‘I’ll need more to go on than your word, Havers. The Mount Vegas team has been nothing but good to me, and I have no evidence that any of what you’re saying is true.’

Havers shifted in his seat and rubbed the bridge of his nose, and Tanya squirmed on the sofa next to him. Then he heaved himself to his feet and buttoned his jacket. ‘I certainly can’t force you to help us, Mr Chase. However, I would suggest you don’t take too long in making your decision, because Elsa Crane and her team are going down. The real question is are you going down with them?’ With an exaggerated effort, he extended his arm and looked at his watch. A rather nice watch, Nick noticed. Then he said, ‘I’ve got to go.’ He pulled a card from his pocket and laid it on the coffee table. ‘Here’s where you can reach me.’

With that, he motioned Tanya to follow him as he headed for the door, leaving Nick standing in the middle of his silent living room.

Once they were gone, Nick tried to call Elsa, but only got her voicemail. He left a brief “we need to talk” message and cursed Tanya out loud. He poured himself a cup of coffee, slopping it over the counter as he did so, and did his best to swallow a Pop Tart whole. Then he plopped down at the kitchen table and called Lou-Ann for the latest. After all, he still had a business to run, and it was still the limo service that paid the bills.

‘Hey, handsome. Just about to call you,’ came his dispatcher’s voice over the phone. ‘The new driver’s amazing. And hot. That makes him very popular with the ladies – and with the dispatcher. Oh, and he can drive too,’ she added. ‘I suppose that’s a plus.’

Nick grunted into the phone. ‘Well, glad that figured into his evaluation somewhere.’

‘Oooh, somebody didn’t get enough sleepy-time last night, did he, Mr Grumpy Bear?’

‘Never mind my sleepy-time, Lou-Ann; any other news I should know about?’

He heard her shuffling papers. ‘Do you know an Elsa Crane?’

Nick sat up straight and felt the muscles in his stomach tighten. ‘What about her?’

‘Don’t know how she did it, or why, but she’s been sending some pretty substantial clients, repeat clients, in our direction. Business is hopping. So have you got a hottie on the side you’re not telling me about? Hmm? Is that why we’re not getting our Zs?’

When Nick made no attempt to fill her in, she heaved a disappointed sigh into his ear and said, ‘Oh Nicky, sometimes you’re such a stick in the mud. Whoever this Elsa Crane is, I love her, and if business keeps up like this, the woman may just be responsible for getting me a much-deserved raise.’ Nick could hear the noise of the radio in the background calling for a limo to the Paris Las Vegas hotel.

‘And there was me thinking you worked for me because of my studliness,’ he said.

Lou-Ann’s laugh tinkled over the phone. ‘Studly you may be, Nicky dear, but your sex appeal doesn’t pay my mortgage, does it?’

When Nick hung up he tried to call Elsa again, but there was still no answer, so he turned his attention to the laptop to find out what he could about Mount Vegas.

For the first time since he’d encountered the whole crazy team, he wondered why he hadn’t thought to do a search at the beginning. Had Elsa really dazzled him that much?

The search for Mount Vegas wasn’t difficult. The home page was a picture of Las Vegas at night, taken from the upper floors of one of the exclusive hotels, Nick would guess. In bold san serif lettering, beneath the Mount Vegas logo, were the words Where there’s always a room with a view. The “about us” page simply read Exclusive entertainment for imaginative people.

‘You got that right,’ Nick said out loud. Beyond that, everything was password protected except for the “contact us” email address. That was it. There was no way beyond the initial pages without a password. Nick had grown up in the Vegas area and knew it intimately from driving limos. He knew that, even though prostitution was illegal in the city, the sex entertainment industry was a staple in Vegas. There was something for people of all tastes and kinks. And yet, until Nick met Tanya Povic, he’d never heard of Mount Vegas.

He Googled Elsa Crane and came up with nothing. He frowned at the screen and scratched his stubbled chin. The nature of their business meant that Mount Vegas had to be discreet, but still, very few people didn’t have at least some kind of electronic footprint these days. Yet there was no Elsa Crane on Facebook, Twitter, G+, LinkedIn – at least, not the right Elsa Crane. Perhaps she went online under a different name. Lots of people did, but there was no way of knowing without asking her.

He Googled Tanya Povic and quickly found her on Facebook and Twitter. With a little shiver he realised that other than Tanya, Elsa was the only person from Mount Vegas whose last name he knew. He couldn’t Google anyone else, and Tanya’s profile was hardly helpful. There was a mention of some modelling she had done, but in Vegas, modelling could mean almost anything. There was no mention of her working for Mount Vegas.

On a hunch, he Googled Mount London and, after wading through dozens of useless hits, he came across an exclusive club in London simply called The Mount. It appeared to be legendary for both discretion and gossip – one feeding off the other. There were claims that it was everything from a secret sex cult to a hub of white slavery to a place where clients paid a fortune to eat exotic animals. All that was really certain was that it was an exclusive restaurant and dance club for which it was next to impossible to get reservations, and equally impossible for normal folks to afford.

A little more searching brought him to a magazine called Talkabout. The magazine faced bankruptcy after its editor had given the OK to a false story about The Mount being a sex cult, then had laid the blame for the article at the feet of Rita Martelli, who had been working for the mag under an alias.

Nick released a low whistle. He remembered the papers being full of stories and speculation about the disappearance of the Martelli heiress. That had been several years ago now. In fact, he remembered a news story about her resurfacing out of the blue. She’d just stepped out of a limo one night in front of an exclusive London club and waltzed right on in with the paparazzi going crazy all around her. He Googled the story and, sure enough, the sudden reappearance of Rita Holly Martelli was at The Mount.

Nick wasn’t sure if the Talkabout magazine story was linked to the heiress’ return or not, but with threats of lawsuits from both the Martelli matriarch and The Mount itself, the magazine had no choice but to sell or close. The result was a buy-out by Holly Enterprises, created by Coraline Martelli, head of the perfume giant, and the magazine was now owned and run by Rita Holly Martelli herself.

Rita Holly Martelli? Where’d he heard that name before? Hadn’t she been the one who had watched, long distance, his first performance with Deb for Mrs Bromley? Didn’t Pike call her Rita Holly? But why would she have any rights to watch at all? Or was she one of the big clients? Certainly if she were the heiress to Martelli Fragrance she could afford the services of Mount Vegas. He would see Pike in just a little while, and Pike never seemed quite as tight-lipped as Elsa. Maybe he could find out a little more.

‘Yup.’ Pike led the way down a stone staircase that, if Nick hadn’t known better, could have easily been in a medieval castle in England somewhere. ‘Same Rita. Really stupid exposé written by her former boss before he learned the hard way who she was and that her mother owns half the world.’

‘So what does she have to do with Mount Vegas? I mean, is The Mount a franchise or something?’

Pike laughed. ‘I suppose that’s one way of looking at it. There’s a connection, yes, and Mount Vegas is a relatively new branch of The Mount.’

‘And this Rita Holly Martelli is coming to Vegas? Why?’

‘Oh, she and Elsa have some business to conduct,’ Pike said. ‘And you have a dungeon to explore,’ he added, changing the subject. ‘So pay attention or I’ll rack you.’

Business to conduct. That could mean anything, Nick told himself. It certainly didn’t mean drugs and organised crime shit. As far as he knew, the Martellis weren’t involved in anything but perfume. Not that he would know one way or another. Coraline Martelli had a reputation for being a ruthless businesswoman, but then ruthlessness didn’t equal criminal.

Nick was strapped, still fully clothed, to the St Andrew’s cross when his BlackBerry rang. Giving him a wicked smile, Pike pulled the device out of his front pocket, with a little more groping than Nick felt was absolutely necessary, and looked at the display. ‘It’s Elsa,’ he said, holding it up to Nick’s ear.

‘Nick, I need to see you in my office as soon as Pike’s done with you.’ No greeting, no how are you, no last night was really good. God, Nick would never understand the woman.

‘I’m sort of tied up right now,’ Nick said, glancing nervously at Pike, who ran a vicious-looking crop up the inside of his leg. He’d always considered himself to be pretty comfortable with his sexuality, or at least he thought he was, but as Pike moved the crop up to his crotch and trailed it over the tell-tale bulge in the front of Nick’s jeans, he wasn’t so sure.

‘Then tell him to untie you and send you up. He can play with you some other time.’ She hung up.

‘She wants me in her office,’ Nick said without growling.

‘If I didn’t know Elsa, I’d say you were trying to get away from me.’ Pike shoved the BlackBerry back in Nick’s pocket, once again lingering just a little longer than necessary.

‘I’d probably be safer with you in the dungeon.’ Nick watched as Pike hung the crop back in place and began to unbuckle the cuffs.

‘I’d like to say that her bark is worse than her bite, but I wouldn’t want to lie.’

‘Jesus –’ Nick ran a hand through his hair when Pike released his wrist ‘– I’d at least like to know what I did. I mean, one minute we’re enjoying an intimate breakfast together in the hotel suite and the next she’s making sure the door doesn’t hit her in the ass on the way out.’

‘You make her nervous, that’s all.’ Nick could feel Pike’s hot breath against his crotch as he knelt to undo the ankle cuffs. ‘Elsa doesn’t like it when she’s not in control, and she wasn’t last night.’

‘Is there something going on between her and Fenton?’

‘Fenton would like there to be, but Elsa’s not interested. There, you’re free to go –’ Pike held him in an uncomfortable gaze ‘– at least for the moment.’

This time Nick did growl, but as he turned to go, Pike stopped him with a palm on the flat of his chest. ‘Don’t hurt her. I get really, really mean when anyone hurts her.’

Nick didn’t reply. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to think. He couldn’t imagine there could be much worry about him hurting Elsa. He couldn’t even get her to stick around long enough for breakfast and a cup of coffee.

Chapter Fourteen

From the inside of Victor’s Lexus, Tanya looked out over the deserted gravel pit. All of its silent earth-moving equipment looked like sleeping dinosaurs in the darkness. She shivered, but not from the cold of the desert at night. ‘Victor, why have you brought me to this place?’

‘I need to fuck, Tanya, and this place gets me hard as a petrified brick bat. How about it, hon? A little sex al fresco?’ Victor got out of the car and nodded her to do the same.

‘Is not a very pretty place for sex al fresco,’ Tanya observed.

‘What is it they say? Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder. I wonder, has the Mount Vegas team ever done an act in a gravel pit?’ he asked.

‘Not that I know of, they haven’t.’ She rubbed her arms for the warmth she really needed at the moment. ‘Most of the people like the city with all of its big windows and bright lights for their fantasies. And if they do it outside, they want nice location, you know, gardens, grass, trees.’

‘Pity,’ Victor said as he motioned her around to his side of the car where he sat down on a large, flat-topped rock and patted the place for her to sit next to him. ‘I’ve done a few acts in gravel pits,’ he said as she moved cautiously to join him. ‘’Course my gravel pit performances aren’t very glamorous, and they can get rather … messy, but I am a cop, after all, not someone who fucks for a living. Still –’ he wound a strand of her hair around his finger and toyed with it ‘– I could very easily imagine you and Nick Chase together here, after hours, doing a little private act just for me. What do you think?’

This time he fisted her hair and pulled her into a tight kiss while she struggled to push aside fear that rose like a bitter taste at back of her throat. Just when she was certain his kiss would suffocate her, he pulled away and sighed happily. ‘Your Mr Chase and I are like two sides of the same coin, Tanya. Mr Chase digs up ancient bodies –’ he leant in very close to her ear ‘– and I bury not so ancient ones.’

Tanya swallowed back the cry that threatened and tried to control the way her heart pounded like drum.

‘Your Mr Chase might discover all kinds of things buried in places like this, don’t you think, Tanya? If he knew where to look, that is. And assuming he was in any condition to look.’

‘Victor, please. I promise, I will convince him to help us.’ No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t keep her lip from quivering. The flood of terror that she felt was thick and nauseating and she struggled to control herself.

‘Oh, don’t look so distressed, Tanya –’ He ran a thumb over her lip, and she flinched as he groped at her breasts through the thin tank top that she wore. ‘Your Mr Chase is a law-abiding citizen. You said it yourself: he’s a conservative sort, not wanting to rock anybody’s boat. When push comes to shove, he’ll come down on the side of the law and hand Mount Vegas and Elsa Crane over to me on a silver platter. All you have to do is ease him in that direction, Tanya. Can you do that?’

She was afraid that her heart would leap out of her mouth when she spoke. ‘I will do. You know that I will, Victor. I will see that he does what it is you ask.’

‘Good.’ He straightened his jacket and looked out over the deserted gravel pit. ‘Yes, this would be a very good place for an act. It’s just so isolated and private, isn’t it?’ He lifted her until she was sitting on his lap. Then he shifted so that she sat on one knee, giving him room to unzip his trousers. ‘My cock gets stiff just thinking about all the fun I could have at night out here with you and Nick Chase. Does it make that little cunt of yours wet? Hell why am I asking? Your cunt’s always wet, you little slut.’

He pushed her skirt up and dragged the crotch of her panties to one side. Then, with her still seated on his lap, he lifted her enough so that he could slide his cock up inside her. She tried not to cry out. He was thick and heavy and didn’t bother with the foreplay. She spat on her hand and pushed her fingers in for a quick stroke of him to ease his way into her straining pussy. But in spite of her efforts to control herself, a cry escaped her throat when he grabbed her tank top by the hem and tore it all the way up her back so he could shove it off her shoulders, leaving her topless with her breasts bouncing each time he thrust. He cupped and kneaded her in his large hands, and his gropes became harder and more painful the closer he got to his orgasm.

This time, Tanya didn’t even pretend to come. With cold fear prickling her skin, she bounced up and down on his lap with his hot breath against her bare back until he grunted and cursed, and she knew that he had come. He pushed her off his lap and used her torn shirt to wipe his wet cock, and then he threw it back at her.

And once he had caught his breath, he said to her, ‘I’m a patient man, Tanya, but my patience has limits, and I’d advise you not to push those limits. Convince Nick Chase that Elsa Crane’s a notorious criminal and her organisation needs to be brought down.’ Then he took her chin in his hand and kissed her hard. ‘Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll do what I can to help you make sure Mr Chase remains a law-abiding citizen. In the meantime, you can use that wet little pussy of yours to influence his decision. We men – well, we’re always pushovers where wet little pussies are concerned.’

He gave her another hard kiss, then he made her ride home topless and shivering in the air conditioned Lexus.

Kandi was in the reception area of Elsa’s office when Nick arrived. She was dressed in a black power suit and her hair was done up in a chignon. She looked like she could be the CEO of a big company. ‘Elsa’s expecting you. Just go on in. And Nick –’ she flashed a bright smile ‘– it was really hot last night.’

‘Did you keep the Aston Martin?’ he asked.

She nodded. ‘I don’t know what the hell I’m gonna do with it. I’m more a Corvette sort of girl.’ She offered Nick a wink. ‘Just my bad luck, isn’t it? Elsa gets the sexy guy and I’m stuck with some prissy-assed car.’

‘I feel your pain,’ Nick said as she nodded him toward Elsa’s office.

Inside, Elsa sat behind her desk tapping away on her laptop. ‘Did you bring the limo?’ she asked without so much as looking up. Jesus! She acted as though nothing had happened between them. How could she be so damned cold?

‘I did,’ he said, trying to keep his voice neutral. ‘Pike says the installation of the cameras shouldn’t take long.’

‘Good. He told you we’ll need it tomorrow night?’ She gave a few more quick keystrokes, then palmed the laptop shut. She moved to sit on the arm of the sofa next to him, looking way too good in a curve-hugging minidress in a floral print that caressed her body. Why did she always have to look so good when he was angry at her? ‘I need you to drive for that act tomorrow night, Nick.’

‘I know, Pike told me. That’s fine. That’s easy enough.’ When she squirmed and then eased down onto the sofa next to him, he asked, ‘What are you not telling me?’

‘You’ll be driving Pike and me.’

‘I’ve had lots of people fucking in the back of my limo, Elsa. You’re just two more.’

‘Good. That’s good, then.’ He was disappointed that she ignored his little dig, even more disappointed at the possibility that she might not have even noticed it. She continued. ‘It’s a frequently requested fantasy, but …’

‘But what?’

‘Well, this time the chauffeur’ll be doing more than driving.’

Nick folded his arms across his chest. ‘Such as?’

‘Well, at first he’ll just be watching, doing a bit of choking the chicken. Then he’ll drive the couple to an area of the parking garage we’ve got cordoned off over at the Tropicana, and there, he’ll join the party.’

‘OK, so I drive the two of you around Vegas while you go at it in the back of my limo, and I watch and play with my junk. Then Pike and I both do you in the parking garage. Got it.’

She shifted on the sofa and ran a finger down his arm. ‘We can do it that way, and we will if we have to. But that’s not exactly the fantasy. You’re elected because I’ve got no one else who can drive a limo. Pagan’s our chauffeur when we have limo fantasies, but he’s been specifically requested in a bodybuilding fantasy in one of the hotel gyms. Kandi didn’t see the logistics problem until it was too late.’

‘So?’ Nick could feel the nerves in his stomach tingle. ‘What exactly is the fantasy, then?’

She held his gaze. ‘Mr Pickford wants to see Pike and me do the limo driver together.’

Nick’s pulse did a drum roll, and he grabbed onto the sofa as though he feared it would eject him. ‘Then Pike is going to …’

She nodded. ‘While you fuck me. If you’re OK with that.’ Then she added, ‘Don’t worry about any damage to the upholstery or the carpets. We’ll have your limo fully detailed for you afterwards.’

‘Oh, I’m so relieved to hear that,’ he said, rolling his eyes. For a moment he was sure neither of them was breathing, and he really didn’t see much point in saying he’d never done it with a man before. Surely she knew that. And of course he wasn’t OK with it! How could he be OK with it? He was scared shitless. Someone would watch him taking it up the arse – his virgin run, no less! And Tanya might not even get her bonus! And he didn’t know what the truth was about Mount Vegas! And the cops were after Elsa and what the fuck was he still doing here?

‘Nick?’ Her voice was little more than a whisper. Her deep blue eyes locked on him. ‘Are you all right? Because you don’t have to go through with it if –’

‘You said guys doing guys turns you on?’

She blinked, then offered a cautious smile. ‘I did. Yes. It does. And you and Pike together – well, it would be amazing.’ Her pulse fluttered against her throat and her chest rose and fell as though it were struggling to escape the sundress. ‘If you can’t … if you’re unable to let Pike do it when the time comes, then you can both just fuck me and we’ll give Mr Picket a discount and it’ll be OK. Honest.’

‘I’ll do it.’ The words were out almost before he knew it, then he added quickly. ‘But I’m doing it for you, Elsa, not for Mr Picket, not for Pike. I’m doing it because it turns you on.’

Before she could respond, he laid a finger across her lips. ‘And don’t think this means you’re off the hook for the way you ran out this morning, or for any of the other shit we need to talk about.’

‘Nick, I –’

He stopped her words with a hard kiss and, even in all his confusion, he was hopeful when she returned it, her warm, expressive tongue reintroducing itself to his. She pulled away far sooner than he wanted, then stood. ‘I have to get ready for tonight’s act, and since you and Pike’ll be in the control room, maybe you can get him to talk you through your part.’ She bent and kissed him again, and nodded him toward the door.

He left the room knowing, even as he mentally kicked himself for the fact, that he wouldn’t back out, that he would do this for Elsa, and that if he couldn’t get some clear idea in his head as to what needed to happen next, he might be joining Elsa and Pike and the whole Mount Vegas crew in prison before very damned long. And yet, in spite of Detective Havers’ visit, he still couldn’t bring himself to believe they were doing anything wrong.

Chapter Fifteen

Nick thought he’d be jealous when things got hot and heavy between Elsa and Pike in the back seat of his limo, but what he got was turned on. OK, he could have been imagining it, but every so often, he was sure he could catch Elsa’s gaze darting toward the mirror. He knew it was all part of Mr Picket’s fantasy, that the woman and the man in the back deliberately get the limo driver hot. But this was more. This was Elsa returning the favour. Yes, he could be imagining it, but that was his fantasy, wasn’t it? By the time Pike had pulled aside the scoop top of her halter dress and nursed noisily on first one and then the other of Elsa’s exquisite breasts, Nick had his fly open and one hand fisted around his cock while the other rested on the steering wheel. He knew there was a camera showing the driver’s response to the back seat action, and it was a testament to how far down this kinky road he’d gone that it didn’t bother him at all that someone – a man, even – was watching him jerk off.

In the mirror, he could see Elsa squirming in the seat until her skirt was up over her hips. Pike yanked the crotch of her panties to one side. She offered Nick a teasing smile and spread her legs, sliding down farther in the seat. He got a tantalizing view of her heavy pout before Pike splayed her with his hand and thrust his long middle finger into her. She whimpered and bore down, then they both giggled like naughty schoolchildren and shushed each other. ‘You’ll make me wet his seat,’ Elsa whispered, just loud enough for Nick to hear.

‘Hell, you’ll be squirting all over the floor once I get your G-spot all warmed up,’ Pike said.

Nick was sure he could see the moisture puddling beneath Elsa’s bottom and running down the edge of the seat already. His cock felt like a lead weight between his legs. He eased off on the stroking, afraid if he didn’t Elsa wouldn’t be the only one squirting all over the floor.

‘Mmm,’ Pike sniffed. ‘I bet he can smell you. I bet he can smell how horny your little pussy is. Bet his cock’s as stiff as mine.’ Nick could see him thumbing her clit. ‘Bet he’d love to stick it up your hot, pouty cunt.’

‘Oh Christ! Oh fuck! I’m coming,’ Elsa hissed, then she shuddered until her tits bounced, and braced her stiletto-shod feet against the floor, arching and writhing. Nick could hear the wet stroking of Pike’s fingers scissoring inside Elsa’s slit, and he thumbed the tip of his cock to hold his wad. Damn, he was beginning to understand why voyeurism was such big business for Mount Vegas.

‘I’m gonna make you come until you can’t walk straight, you filthy little thing,’ Pike said. Elsa was fumbling to release Pike’s cock. For a second, Nick felt fear course up his spine at the sight of the man’s straining erection, thick and pale like marble in the ambient light. Nick’s anus clenched involuntarily and he faltered for a moment in his stroking, until Elsa leant down and took Pike’s dick into her mouth, all the way into her mouth, and Nick was thumbing himself again. Hard. As if that weren’t bad enough, Elsa scrambled to reposition herself in the stretch limo so that she half stood, half squatted in front of Pike, head down in his lap, thrusting and sucking while her arse rose to perfect view in Nick’s mirror, her sopping pussy clenching and releasing just above the beaded hard-on of her clit. Pike reached around to spread her bottom, to pull her open so the dark of her hole was exposed, dilated and gripping, in Nick’s view, and Nick couldn’t hold back a moan.

Elsa pulled away from Pike long enough to ask, ‘Driver? Driver, is your cock hard?’

‘Sorry, ma’am,’ Nick said. ‘But it’s really difficult not to be … excited. You two aren’t very subtle.’

Both Elsa and Pike laughed. ‘No we’re not,’ Pike said.

‘Wanna join us?’ Elsa turned so that her breasts were right in his line of sight.

‘No, I couldn’t, really. It’s against the rules and –’

‘We’ll pay you for your time, won’t we, sweetie?’ she said, turning back to Pike.

‘What, you mean like a ménage?’ Nick said.

‘Yeah, a ménage,’ Pike replied, as though he’d just thought of the most brilliant idea. ‘Not an opportunity we get too much out in Iowa, ménage in a limo.’

Nick was already pulling into the parking garage at the Tropicana. ‘Oooh, do hurry,’ Elsa whimpered. ‘I want to see that hard cock of yours, driver. What’s your name? No, don’t tell me. It’ll be more fun for all of us if we don’t know each other’s names. Tell me, driver, do you have your cock out?’

‘Not room for it in my jeans,’ Nick said. ‘Not with you two carrying on like that.’

Elsa giggled. ‘Afraid I did get pussy juice all over your seat, and I think there’ll probably be some jizz, maybe lots of jizz before too long. Would you like to jizz my pussy?’ She wiggled her bare bottom at him. It took him two seconds to park and throw open the back door. Elsa had gone back to work on Pike’s cock and Nick slipped in beside her and began to finger her wet pussy. She moaned around Pike in response.

‘You two married?’ Nick asked.

Pike practically guffawed. ‘Are you kidding? We just met at the bar last night. Found out we’re both here for the same thing – and I’m not talking the casinos.’

‘Well, there’s plenty of that to be had here in Vegas,’ Nick said, then grabbed his penis in his fist and shoved it up into Elsa’s pout. She mmmphed her approval around Pike’s cock.

‘She’s tight, isn’t she?’ Pike said. ‘And holy fuck, I’ve never seen anyone so slippery. You like that, don’t you, driver?’

Nick only grunted and nodded in response. Elsa ran an exploring hand back to cup his balls and stroke his thigh. They were all scrunched in the back, way tighter than need be, but Nick was humping Elsa hard and she had Pike way down her throat with him hunched over her like he was afraid she might desert her post.

‘Let me have some of her pussy juice,’ Pike said, and Nick pulled out just enough for Pike to scoop his fingers through Elsa’s wetness, then buried his cock to the hilt and continued thrusting.

‘She’s like wet silk, isn’t she?’ Pike said.

Nick mumbled his agreement. Though he knew it was coming, though he was expecting it, when Pike pushed his wet finger up against his anus, he froze.

‘It’s all right,’ Pike breathed. ‘You’re OK with that, aren’t you, buddy? It doesn’t mean anything. Just means the three of us are filthy horny, just means we want to enjoy each other fully. Doesn’t it? Isn’t it OK?’ He gave his slippery finger a little wriggle, and Nick released a shaky breath.

‘I’ve never … I mean, I don’t mind or anything … it’s just that …’

‘Hell, man, I haven’t either,’ Pike said. ‘But it’s Vegas. We got all night, buddy, and I promise you we’ll compensate for the fares you’ll miss. And we’ll pay you too.’

They all laughed nervously and Nick relaxed.

‘That’s it, that’s better. You’ll like this. I can tell,’ Pike said. ‘We’ll all like this. Just relax your little asshole and let me make it feel good.’

‘I want to see! I want to see!’ Elsa gasped, releasing Pike from her mouth. She pulled herself off Nick’s cock and turned to face him. There was a mad scramble in the seat with Nick suddenly sandwiched in the middle. Elsa positioned herself half seated with her back against the far door, one leg up over the back seat and one pressed hard against the back of the front seat, all inviting-like. Nick ploughed into her, feeling shivers down his spine and Pike’s breath against his arse crack just before he felt the man’s tongue lap at his pucker, and he nearly went through the roof.

‘Oh fuck! Oh God,’ he gasped. ‘No one’s ever … I don’t know if …’ And hell if he could formulate a sentence.

‘It’s all right. It’s all right,’ Elsa whispered against his ear.

Nick felt like he was on both ends of the seesaw at once, with Elsa’s tight, velvety grip milking his cock for all it was worth each time he thrust and with Pike behind, easing his finger past the tight sphincter into untouched territory. And Nick couldn’t say he didn’t like it. Nick couldn’t say shit at the moment because his brain was offline and his body was losing control.

‘We’re gonna make this good,’ Pike whispered. ‘We’re gonna make this so good for all of us.’ Then he squirmed away and Nick heard something ripping, heard something squirting, and felt cold wetness on his anus. ‘We found some of this super-glide lube in a really nasty sex shop, gonna make your little pucker all slippery and ready for me and my cock all slippery for you.’ He shoved two fingers into the cool slick.

Before Nick knew it, Pike was scissoring his anus, stretching and probing. And all of the things he felt, all of the anticipation and dread and fear and arousal, all of them surged together up his spine, down his belly and into his cock, thrusting into Elsa’s heat.

She pulled him down to her and kissed him over and over, her fists curled against his upper back. ‘It’s gonna be good, sweetie. It’s gonna be so good. I think it’s so hot what you two are doing. You’ll make me come so hard. My poor little pussy won’t be able to stand it.’

Maybe she was trying to distract him, because they both knew that what he now felt up tight and slippery against his hole was Pike’s substantial cock. And somewhere in the back of his brain, he thanked his lucky star that it was Pike’s penis and not Horse’s that was about to initiate his butthole.

Pike laid one large hand on his lower back, almost as though he were trying to calm him. He probably was, actually. Then he slid it down to part Nick’s butt cheeks while his other hand guided his penis home. ‘Just relax now.’ Pike’s voice was tight with arousal, his breath controlled with effort. ‘I’m gonna push into you now, just relax.’

‘Do it! Just do it.’ Nick gasped, bracing himself for impact, impact that was slick and grudging and stung and burned like fire and felt like it reached all the way up his spine.

‘Jesus that’s so hot, that’s so damned hot, that’s amazing,’ Elsa said. And just as Pike made his first real thrust and Nick felt like he was being assaulted by a battering ram, she whispered against his mouth. ‘You’re amazing.’ And suddenly, the burning and the blunted ploughing gave way to wild, intense fullness, and he was amazing! He would be amazing for Elsa Crane.

At first the three of them were awkward and off balance, sliding and hunching over the seat, nearly falling onto the floor. Then they caught their stride. Nick seesawed forward into Elsa’s outrageously hot pussy, then back onto Pike’s hard penis. He decided the man was aptly named. And then the rhythm changed so that all forward thrust buried itself into Elsa’s receptive opening, with Pike following Nick in hard. And then all backward momentum pressed and impaled itself onto Pike’s drilling cock. Nick wasn’t exactly sure when it happened, but he knew it had. At some point they were no longer roleplaying. They were themselves, so much themselves that he feared the two could read his thoughts. Nick feared the two could see right through him. And even as it frightened him, in the scheme of things it seemed like the logical progression of the trust they needed to have in each other, of the place they needed to go together if they were to do this.

Tension built until Elsa tumbled into orgasm that began with a tremor up through the grip of her pussy and then rocked and shuddered through her whole body. It was Elsa’s orgasm that laid the foundation, which sucked the two men in and down and over the edge. The first shudder of Pike’s cock up inside Nick felt like a heartbeat, harder and harder, faster and faster, and the hard grip of his stomach muscles shoved Nick forward deep as he unloaded into Elsa’s hungry, convulsing depths. The smell of sex filled the limo and the sounds of grunts and moans were muffled tight against each other. The windows were steamed with their body heat, and the strange sense of comfort washing over Nick was something he would have never expected as they collapsed onto each other in the back of the limo, slipping and sliding across the seat. And, strangely, Nick found that he welcomed Pike’s kisses as easily as he had Tanya’s or Deb’s or Beetle’s. In fact, he welcomed Pike’s body next to his on the seat. But it was Elsa’s breath he felt like his own, Elsa’s heartbeat he felt shuddering against his palm, and Elsa’s words that filled his brain.

‘You are amazing.’ Those words were not a part of the act. Nick didn’t know how he knew it. He just did.

Chapter Sixteen

This time, Nick didn’t make excuses when the whole Mount Vegas gang descended on the suite in the Tropicana with its enormous Jacuzzi and two orgy-ready bedrooms. The equipment had been packed away by the time Elsa, Nick, and Pike got to the suite and Beetle and Deb had ordered enough room service to feed half the hotel. Deb launched herself at the three of them in a group hug. ‘You brought him along this time,’ she said to Elsa, planting a huge, sloppy kiss on Nick’s surprised mouth.

‘Contractual obligation,’ Elsa said, offering him a smile. She knew she should keep her distance. There were plenty of people for her to play with tonight. Deke was back to full strength and would be doing his first act tomorrow night. Horse and Pagan had just done a very filthy guy-on-guy gym scene and Deb and Kandi had taken over the dungeon. Beetle and Deke had run the control room. Really, her plan was just to get Nick involved with the rest of the gang and then quietly slip away. It would be better that way, no matter how much she wanted to stay for a little one-on-one. But Nick wasn’t that easy to palm off, and when everyone else headed toward the feast spread on the table and the kitchen countertop he pulled her aside into the soft lighting of the entranceway. He took her mouth like it was the feast, like he would settle for nothing less, and she might have pulled away if she’d been any less hungry for him. She should have pulled away. And yet when he touched her it was like being drawn to magnetic north.

‘Food can wait, Elsa,’ he said. ‘I want you right now. I want you bad.’

‘Nick, please.’ She made a half-hearted effort to push him away as his hand found its way inside her top, palm cupping her weight, thumb sweeping her nipple. ‘Nick … please,’ she repeated into his mouth. ‘Nick, please.’

‘Please what, Elsa?’

He nibbled at her ear, then at the soft spot low on her nape that sent shivers down her spine, sent a flush of wet heat rushing below her belly. And all the sensations, the delicious, frightening, disturbing sensations Nick Chase always aroused in her seemed to converge beneath her breastbone, grabbing at her breath, making her insides quiver like she walked in high places, like if she fell the fall would be desperate and terrifying. But then again, Nick Chase could almost make her believe that if she fell, she could fly.

His fingers slipped up under her skirt, into the residual slickness of his own release mixed with hers. He tweaked her, parted her, and she came. Christ! Could it really be that easy for him to take her, to control her? He didn’t give her a moment to contemplate. Somewhere above her ragged breathing, she heard the zip of his fly and, in a move that was so nearly effortless she could have believed herself lost in a dream, he lifted her onto him. He shifted and grunted and impaled her.

‘Elsa,’ he whispered against her neck. ‘Dear God, Elsa. I can’t get enough of you.’

‘Grub’s served,’ someone called from the kitchen. Someone else shushed the voice and said something about leaving them alone.

It happened quickly, like a lightning strike, like a gust of wind at the height of a storm. He thrust, his hands cupping and kneading her arse. She gripped, her legs curled around his waist, her face buried against his mussed hair. Then they were freefalling into each other’s release as though they hadn’t just come a little while ago in the limo, as though they had never come at all until this moment. And when it was finished, when the tremors that shook them passed, and Nick’s lips settled once again to hers, the smell of food came back to them, and the sound of their friends, the people Elsa cared about, came back into focus, and he settled her onto her feet with a smile that did things to her. ‘There. That’s better, isn’t it?’ He said. And it was. It really was better.

There were backslaps and hugs and kisses all around as Elsa and Nick joined the party. ‘Here’s to another job well done,’ Deb said raising her glass. Everyone toasted.

‘I hear Mr Bernard was very pleased with the cock play in the gym,’ Deke said, addressing Pagan and Horse.’

‘As well he should be.’ Horse practically inhaled a fajita. ‘Those weights were fucking heavy.’

Pagan offered him a wicked smile. ‘Why, thanks, buddy.’ He adjusted his junk, barely covered in a pair of dark cotton shorts. ‘I like to think so.’

Horse flipped him off and everyone laughed.

‘I’d like to make a toast,’ Pike said, standing up and raising a glass of red wine. ‘To the popping of Nick’s ass cherry. Well done, Nick! I was definitely up for it, and you were … open to new experiences.’

In the wave of laughter and the toast and backslaps that followed, Nick found himself feeling strangely comfortable with these people, and when Pike leant over and gave him a full-on tongue kiss to the cheers of the whole team, he returned the favour, even being bold enough to give the man’s junk a good groping. Of course, it didn’t hurt that Elsa was watching, that the scent of her was still all over his body, that the feel of her still trembled along his skin like some sort of magic spell. He liked it here. He liked it a lot.

Then the unwelcome thought of Detective Havers and Tanya shoved its way into his head. No. He was as certain as he was of his own name that neither Elsa nor Mount Vegas would be involved in any of the things Havers spoke of. There was no doubt. He leant close to Elsa and pulled her head onto his shoulder, then whispered into her ear, ‘We need to talk.’

She pushed away as though he had given her an electric shock. ‘Nick.’ She glanced around the room at everyone else still ploughing through the food like ravenous wolves. ‘Nick, please.’

He stopped her words with a kiss. ‘Do you know a Detective Victor Havers?’

Her shoulders stiffened. She shot another glance around the room. ‘We can’t talk about this here,’ she said.

‘Then where?’

‘Come on.’ She jerked her head toward the door. ‘You haven’t been drinking. Are you fit to drive?’

When he nodded, she rose and said, ‘You all are lovely, and I’d fuck you all in a heartbeat as I’m sure our dear Nick would too, but I’m pulling rank. Don’t party too hard. I’ll see you tomorrow at the Elara.’

They left to the cheers and catcalls of the rest of the team.

In the parking garage, she joined him in the front of the limo. ‘Where to?’ he asked.

‘Just somewhere out of town. I’m not in the mood to go back to my office. Has Havers been to your house?’

‘Yes. He and Tanya.’

She blew out a breath and ran a hand through her hair. ‘Right, then we really shouldn’t go there either. Chances are good the bastard’s having you watched. Probably has you bugged. The fucker’s a slimy rat, and he’s dangerous. Tell me what happened.’

Nick headed out toward Red Rocks. It was his automatic response, even if he wasn’t going home. Elsa stared out the window as he told her about his encounter with Havers and Tanya, and when the lights of the city were behind them, he found a side road, pulled onto it and shut off the engine.

‘Elsa, I want to know what’s going on, and I want to know about The Mount.’ When she didn’t answer, he asked, ‘Is Mount Vegas involved in something illegal?’

He heard her sigh in the darkness. ‘Mount Vegas is involved in exactly what you’ve seen. Though what we do is not actually illegal, the area in which we operate is grey. You’re no doubt aware that while prostitution is legal in the state of Nevada, it’s not legal in the city limits of Las Vegas or anywhere in Clark County.’

‘What Mount Vegas is doing isn’t prostitution,’ Nick said.

‘True. But what Mount Vegas is doing has to do with sex, and anything that has to do with sex, no matter how consensual, no matter how above board, is suspect. Sadly, that’s just the result of Western civilisation’s religious roots. No getting away from it. We’ve all been socialised by it whether we like it or not. And the fact that money changes hands for anything to do with sex is always frowned upon. Because it’s Vegas, there’s as much hearsay and myth as there is truth behind the seamier side of the city. And Nick, I would have never allowed you to take over for Tanya if I was putting you or your business at risk legally, surely you know that?’

‘Then what is it Havers thinks he has on you and Mount Vegas?’ Nick asked.

‘Can we talk about this outside?’ she said. ‘I need some fresh air. It feels like I’ve been cooped up for days.’

Nick pulled a blanket from the trunk and helped her up onto the hood. Once they were comfortably reclining against the windshield, looking up at the Milky Way stretching across the night sky, he settled the blanket over them and pulled her close. ‘Tell me.’

She snuggled against him. ‘Mount Vegas makes a ton of money, Nick. A ton of money. And we do it offering a service that’s totally unique. Though we’ve tried to keep it all as discreet as possible, good news gets out. In our case, no matter how hush-hush we’ve been, what happens in Vegas hasn’t stayed in Vegas. And though we’re still one of the city’s best kept secrets, our business grows by word of mouth, and not all of our clients are as discreet as we’d like them to be. That’s just due to the fact that we’re really, really good at what we do.

‘The police have been aware of Mount Vegas almost from the beginning. That was important for us, important that they understood that grey area in which we operate, and really, Nick, a lot of Vegas operates in a grey area, doesn’t it? So though they know about it, like all police forces, Vegas has its share of cops on the take. Havers runs a protection racket. He keeps his clients safe from … well, from him and his thugs. His fee depends on just how lucrative the business is. The more vulnerable a business is, the easier it is for him to put the hurt on them. Mount Vegas is not all that vulnerable, so he’s had to find a different way in. Planting drugs, lots of drugs, usually does the trick when all else fails. Oh, some have tried to hold out against him. Businesses have burned to the ground. Family members have ended up dead, people have disappeared. No one holds out for long.’

‘Jesus,’ Nick said under his breath. ‘And he wants Mount Vegas.’

Elsa nodded. ‘He wants Mount Vegas. And though everyone knows that about Havers, no one can prove anything. And because of his connections, no one can touch him. No one would dare. The fact that Mount Vegas has no roots in organised crime and has no connections with any of the powers-that-be in the area, in any area that could tarnish our reputation, and the fact it’s a cash cow hasn’t been missed by people who can do us real harm.’ She raised herself up on one elbow and he could feel her looking down at him. ‘That’s the truth of it, Nick. We’ve known that we’d have to fight this battle from the beginning, so we’ve come into the world with our backs against the wall and we’ve learned to keep our eyes and ears open and dodge the bullets. We’ve made friends where we’ve been able to and slipped under the radar where we had to in order to make sure it was clear we weren’t horning in on anyone’s turf. It hasn’t been easy, but we’ve managed it, and we’ve thrived.’

She shivered. Nick pulled her back down against him. She settled in close and continued. ‘I know that you’ve probably got more reason to believe Havers than me. He’s a cop and I’m … well, I’m someone you still don’t know if you can trust. But I’m telling you the truth. I swear it.’

‘I don’t like him,’ Nick said without a thought. ‘And I got the feeling that Tanya was – I don’t know, scared of him.’ When Elsa didn’t respond, he said, ‘Do you think he can really do what he says, bring down you and Mount Vegas?’

‘Oh, I’m sure he’ll try. And you say he plans this during the big act we’ll be doing when the London folks are here?’

Nick nodded into the darkness. ‘He says that’s all just a cover-up. Elsa, if he can pull this off, will we all end up in jail?’

‘Quite likely, Nick. Though not from the truth, we won’t.’

Once again there was a long moment of silence. ‘Elsa, I did a little research. Rita Holly Martelli and The Mount in London all seem to be connected to Mount Vegas, and obviously they are if Rita Holly’s coming here. What exactly is The Mount, and why do I get the idea that it’s way bigger than Mount Vegas and a London dance club?’

Elsa sighed. ‘You’re too nosey for your own good, Nick Chase. You know that?’

‘I tend to be that way when there’s a possibility of me getting my ass carted off to jail.’

She shook her head. ‘No. You’ve always been nosey.’ She lifted her face to his and gave him a lingering kiss, and he moaned softly and pulled her on top of him, feeling himself harden under her body. She could so easily make him forget everything but the feel of her, the need for her. Perhaps she sensed it. She gave his bottom lip a nibble and laid her hand against his chest, creating enough breathing space for his brain to kick back in. Then she took a deep breath. ‘Nick, I’m going to ask you to do something for me, and I need you to trust me enough to do it without questioning.’

‘Ask first, and then I’ll decide,’ he said, feeling a knot tighten in his gut.

‘I need you to go along with Havers. I need you to tell him exactly what he wants to know.’

‘Jesus, woman, you don’t want much, do you?’

This time she curled her fist in his hair and pulled him into a toe-kinking kiss that had his cock’s full attention and nearly had him forgetting his own name. ‘I want everything. I want absolutely everything.’

‘That much is clear,’ he breathed into her mouth. ‘You could convince God to give you heaven and the devil to give you hell. What choice could a mere limo driver have?’

‘A mere limo driver, my ass,’ she said, smiling down at him. ‘Doctor Nicolas Chase. I know about your research in the Valley of Fire and the Muddy Mountains, and I know you spent time working in the John Day Fossil Beds out in Oregon. Just because you’re no longer openly involved with a university doesn’t mean you’re just a limo driver. You’re not the only one who’s nosey.’

‘That was another life, Elsa. A man has to make a living. I’m no more fit for academia than I am to be driving limos. One’s too political; one’s just mind-numbing.’ He ran his hand up under her skirt to cup her, and she caught her breath. ‘Maybe I’m fit to be your sex slave. What do you think? I think I could be good at that.’

He felt her stiffen and pull away and he held his breath, wondering if he’d lose her again, wondering what he’d said.

But she relaxed back into his arms. ‘You don’t really want to be my sex slave, Nick. I’m a very strict mistress.’

‘And why is it that the thought makes my cock hard?’

She laughed and he felt her breath against his ear. ‘Your cock has been hard since the moment I met you. I don’t think it takes much.’

‘It takes more than you think, Elsa. More than you think.’

‘So will you do it? Will you do what I ask as far as Havers is concerned?’

‘All right.’ He twirled a strand of her hair around his finger. ‘And if it all goes to hell, do you think they’ll allow us conjugal visits in prison?’

‘I might be able to arrange it,’ she said with a soft giggle. ‘I have connections, you know?’

For a long moment they lay in silence, his hand stroking her bottom, his cock pressing in delicious discomfort against the weight of her body. Then he spoke. ‘Tell me something.’

When she made no response, he continued. ‘I Googled Mount Vegas and though I found it, I didn’t find out anything I didn’t already know. I Googled Tanya, and though there wasn’t a lot about her, I did find her. As for the other Mount Vegas folks – well, it embarrasses me to say I don’t know their last names, and their nicknames turned up nothing, but Elsa, you’re un-Googleable. Why is that?’

She tightened her embrace, almost as though she were afraid of losing him. He liked that thought. It was always the other way round. She kissed him, this time lazily and leisurely, and when she pulled away, she slid out from under the blanket and off the hood. She stood looking out into the desert, then she inhaled as though she’d only just now remembered to breathe. ‘It’s because I don’t exist, Nick. I don’t exist. And now you’d better take me back to the hotel. We’ve got a busy day ahead of us tomorrow.’

Before he could get over the shock of what she’d just said, or even ask what the hell she meant, she was already settled back into the limo and buckling her seatbelt.

The closer they got to Vegas, the more frustrated he felt. She sat next to him, staring out the window into the darkness, lost in her own thoughts. She’d told him she didn’t exist. How the hell could she not exist? The very thought disturbed him somewhere deep inside. Her people clearly adored her. She was outrageously competent. Havers certainly knew who she was, and he wanted her brought down. Men like him didn’t want someone brought down unless they were frightening, unless they mattered, unless they existed. She existed! She damn well existed and the way she constantly jerked him around was another testament to that existence. He would find out what the fuck was going on no matter what he had to do to manage it.

As resolved as he was, he didn’t confront her on it. It would do him no good at the moment. There might come a time when she’d trust him enough to tell him what the hell was going on, but in the meantime, he’d just have to find out on his own.

At the Tropicana, they took the elevator in silence, and he left her at the door with a lingering kiss, not wanting to leave, yet knowing that she needed space. He needed space too.

‘You’ll do what I ask, then … about Havers?’ she said, holding him in a gaze that was a fortress.

‘I said that I would,’ he replied.

Relief flashed across her face. She kissed him again and turned without saying goodbye.

It was only when he got out of the limo in front of his house that he noticed her BlackBerry lying in the middle of the seat. He probably wouldn’t even have noticed it then if it hadn’t rung. He picked it up, thinking it would be her letting him know she’d left it behind.

But the melodic female voice on the device wasn’t Elsa’s.

‘Sorry to bother you, sweetie, but I just couldn’t wait to hear how it went tonight with Nick and Pike. Dying to know details.’

‘Hello?’ Nick said. ‘Who is this?’

There was a pause, but Nick could still hear the woman breathing. ‘Um, who is this?’ came the reply. ‘What are you doing answering Elsa’s phone?’ Then there was an excited squeal that made him hold the phone away from his ear. ‘You’re Nick, aren’t you? Nick Chase? Wow! It’s so good to finally meet you. I’m Rita Holly. I’m a friend of Elsa’s.’

‘From the Mount in London, Rita Holly Martelli, that Rita Holly?’ He spoke around the rapid staccato of his pulse.

‘That would be me,’ the woman said. ‘I see you’ve done your homework, and if I’m guessing right, and I usually do, then our Elsa won’t be happy that you’ve done it so well. Hold it, is she there?’

‘Nope. She left her BlackBerry in my limo.’ Nick shut the door and leant back against the hood. ‘Hardly my fault, is it?’

The laugh she offered him was positively wicked, and Nick liked the woman already. ‘Certainly not your fault. Though the fact that you’re there with her phone and your limo and she’s not – well, that might just be your fault. Is it?’

‘I only wish I knew,’ Nick said.

‘Mmm. Well, Elsa can tend to be a bit flighty. Bit secretive too, but then that’s a part of what makes her so hot. My, my, she’s getting careless, isn’t she, not taking her BlackBerry with her? But I can imagine you were distracting her, weren’t you, Mr Chase?’

‘Might have been,’ he said.

‘Which raises a plethora of juicy new questions I’m dying to ask you, Nick – it is all right if I call you Nick, isn’t it? I already feel like we’re old friends.’ She went on without waiting for his answer, ‘Now I’d advise against continuing this conversation on Elsa’s BlackBerry and risking her substantial wrath, which, no doubt, you’ll get anyway, but let’s not make it worse. Why don’t you give me your number and let me call you back, because I think you and I have a whole lot to talk about.’

Chapter Seventeen

Elsa had watched the sun rise over the mountains, a view she could see clearly from the upper floors of the Elara. She hadn’t slept. Pagan had delivered her BlackBerry to the front desk a couple of hours ago, no doubt not happy that she’d sent him to get it, but she didn’t want to face Nick right now, and she didn’t want company.

Now it was almost lunchtime and she had kept herself busy planning out the acts that were scheduled for the next two months. She palmed her laptop closed and stood to pace in front of the window. After Nick had left, she’d taken a taxi and checked in to one of the suites at the Elara. It was her favourite hotel when she needed to be alone, when she needed to think. She supposed it was because the Elara was the first hotel she had taken refuge in, what seemed like a lifetime ago now. For three days, she’d been afraid to leave the suite. Then for another three days she hadn’t left it because she’d been planning and scheming how she would survive. She was a little bit like God, she thought to herself with a tight smile. On the seventh day, she became Elsa Crane. She left the room and discovered Vegas. Of course, that took a whole lot more than one day. But it was a good beginning.

And all that time, while she was becoming Elsa Crane, Nick Chase was right there, sharing her city, knowing it, in some ways better than she ever would, down to its prehistory, down to a past even more ancient than that of The Mount. Nick and Elsa, all that time together in the same city. For a second, she wondered how the space could have possibly been big enough for them both to live their lives and not be drawn to each other like giant magnets. Or perhaps they repelled each other instead.

She supposed it said something about her that she took her refuge in a generic hotel suite rather than choosing something more upscale, rather than buying a place and making it her own like Pike had done. She came into Vegas without an identity and sometimes she wondered whether she would always be that way. There was power in walking the city’s streets unseen, unnoticed. Oh, she could be noticed if she wanted, but she learned, she planned, she schemed, she observed when she was unnoticed. She got lost in the throng of people who had come with dreams of winning their fortune; lost in the throng of people who had come with the idea of hooking up. She walked unnoticed amid the people who’d eloped, the people who were having affairs, the people who were just ordinary Las Vegans trying to make a living in the madness. Elsa knew them all, watched them all, became familiar with them all. Alex Fenton was wrong. He wasn’t the ultimate voyeur. She was. She was the one who saw what no one else ever did and made it work for her. She was the true observer, keeping herself distant, unnamed, unnoticed, above it all.

And then she met Nick Chase.

She settled back at the laptop to work on more fantasy plans, to keep her mind off Nick Chase and what she had inadvertently pulled him into. And what he had not so inadvertently pulled her into. She was interrupted by a knock on the door. No doubt room service delivering lunch. She was still thinking about not thinking about Nick when she opened the door, and there before her, looking way less jetlagged than Elsa would have thought possible, was Rita Holly.

Elsa stood stunned, making little fish gasps at the woman who was already a legend in The Mount, the woman who until now, she had never met in person.

Rita offered her an amused smile. ‘Well, are you going to invite me in or just let me stand here in the hall looking silly?’ Before Elsa could do more than just step out of the way, Rita added. ‘I know, I know, uninvited guests are a pain in the arse, sweetie, but after my little conversation with Nick last night, I felt it was time we talked. So I took the Martelli jet, had a nice nap over the Pole, and here I am.’

‘Nick? You talked to Nick?’

‘I certainly did. And why the hell he isn’t here with you is beyond me. But since he isn’t, then maybe it’s time for a serious talk, just the two of us.’

Just then, room service arrived. ‘Mmm, that smells great,’ Rita said, sniffing. ‘I’m famished. Can you bring me one of whatever that is quick before I starve, and here’s for your troubles.’ She handed the waiter a wad of money, to which the raised eyebrow cued Elsa that it was more than enough to get the job done. The waiter quickly deposited the tray on the table and left.

Elsa forced a smile that she hoped would pass for welcoming as Rita sat down next to her and nabbed a French fry from her plate. She didn’t want company, and she didn’t want prying. Pike knew that when she was at the Elara, she was off limits.

As if Rita had read her mind, she said, ‘Oh, don’t blame Pike. He didn’t tell me where you were. I just figured it out. Remember you told me this was where you hang out when you need to think. Now, Nick and I had a very interesting conversation last night on your phone while you should have had him locked in this suite, fucking his brains out. First of all, Nick asked lots of questions about Mount Vegas and The Mount, in general, and I answered them.’

‘You did what?’ Elsa felt as if her chest would explode. ‘You had no right. It wasn’t yours to tell.’

Rita held her in a steady gaze. ‘First of all, as your superior in The Mount, I had every right. Secondly, as your friend, surely you know I would never violate your trust and what’s yours to tell.’

The sense of relief Elsa felt was so great that she found herself fighting back tears.

‘I’ve petitioned for Nick to be given access to the archives of Mount Vegas and The Mount in general, if he wants. We both know he belongs in The Mount, and I see no further reason for us to keep secrets from him.’ She snitched another fry. ‘And don’t give me that bullshit that after he finishes Tanya’s contract you’ll be happy to let him walk. I know that’s not true.’

Elsa scrubbed a hand over her face and stared down at her untouched club sandwich. ‘No. I don’t want him to leave when Tanya’s contract is up. But it doesn’t matter what I want, does it? My role here has always been to bring Mount Vegas up to speed, to build it and its reputation until it’s ready to join The Mount as a full-fledged coven.’

‘Oh, give me a break, Elsa! I know the sales pitch. Hell, my mother wrote the fucking sales pitch. You’re here because you want to be. You love what you do and you’re good at it and so’s your team. You built Mount Vegas with a different twist, a vibrant twist that no other coven or potential coven has. Even when Vivienne was in control in London, do you know why she disliked you so much?’

Elsa shook her head.

‘Because of your purity of purpose. She could find no fault in you no matter how hard she tried, and you were too far away for her to interfere with what you were doing, like she did with me. Plus I personally think she was afraid of you. I know I am.’ Rita leant forward across the table. ‘But your walls have been breached, sweetie. Might as well admit it and enjoy. And about damn time, that’s all I can say.’

‘My love life is not your business, Rita, no matter how good a friend you are.’

‘Of course it’s my business. You’re a sister in The Mount, and Nick can’t go back to where he was any more than you can. So it’s time you deal with it. And anyway, that’s not why I’m here.’

They were interrupted by another knock and the waiter delivered a tray for Rita, who took it and returned to the table. ‘Eat your lunch, Elsa. You’ll need all your strength for what’s ahead of you.’ She sat down and met Elsa’s gaze across the full tray. ‘Nick told me about this Havers bloke. He also told me that you told him to go along with the man’s plan. Now I think it’s time you fill me in on all the details.’

In the Beginning: The Story of Mount Vegas and How It Came To Be a Fledgling of The Mount

By Alexandra ‘Beetle’ Crane Marcus, historian, Mount Vegas.

There was a woman in Vegas making waves. She was a dangerous woman, who had no alliances and took no sides. She quickly became a powerful woman. She gave people their sexual fantasies, a look through the scope at their deepest desires, at their most erotic thoughts. There was a woman in Vegas who showed people the sex they wanted to see, the sex they wanted to experience, but were afraid to, and her name was Elsa Crane. No one knew who she was nor where she came from, but she gave Vegas a secret that everyone whispered about and everyone wanted. She drew people to her, competent people, people who could see her vision and who wanted to become a part of it. She caught people’s attention – powerful people, people who knew about sex and the human heart. First she drew to her Pike Harrison Danes, of the Houston Coven of The Mount. He was sent to her by the High Council to recruit her, to draw her into the family she didn’t know she had.

Together, and with the blessing of the Roman High Council, Elsa Danes Crane and Pike Harrison Danes laid the foundations for Mount Vegas. And from that moment onward, the eyes of The Mount have been upon the work of Elsa Danes Crane and the vibrant organisation that she heads.

Nick still couldn’t get his mind around it. The Mount really was a sex cult – a really ancient sex cult! His imagination conjured erotic romps in the Corinthian-pillared back rooms of the Roman Forum and in the high towers of mediaeval castles. That would be good for more than a few jerk-off sessions, he was certain. But what really stunned him was that such a sex cult’s power and influence could be so subtle that no one even knew about it, and yet so enormous that it was literally global.

No wonder Talkabout magazine was brought to its knees. It was telling the truth, but then again, from what Nick could see, it was a truth so preposterous no one would believe it, and the magazine’s editor had to leave the country in disgrace. Rita Holly had given Nick permission to look at the Mount Vegas archives, for which Beetle was responsible. The Vegas branch of The Mount was only a few years old and had not yet attained coven status. Rita assured him that they weren’t witches – or at least some of them weren’t. He wasn’t sure if she had been joking or not. When he had asked Rita about Elsa, asked her to tell him why she claimed she didn’t exist, Rita told him it was Elsa’s story to tell when the time was right. He wished she’d given him a more comforting answer. However, she assured him that if he wanted to know more about The Mount, they could Skype. He figured Elsa would be furious when she found out, but he hadn’t seen Elsa. She’d sent Pagan to collect her BlackBerry, and he had told Nick that he’d be doing an act with Beetle tonight, and it was complicated.

So now, here he was playing pool, which he was lousy at, wearing skinny fucking jeans, which he was uncomfortable in, and hanging out in a seedy bar he hadn’t known existed until tonight. He was being watched hungrily by two men sipping Coors Lite long necks and leaning on the bar, making sure he could see their junk through their jeans. It wasn’t actually a gay bar, Beetle told him. It was the kind of place where if you hung out long enough you were likely to hook up no matter who you were or what your tastes were. Another of Vegas’s best kept secrets. He was beginning to think he didn’t know his native town very well at all.

He leant over the table, lined up his shot, and scratched. Again. He wondered if the top of the table was going to hold up under his assault until Beetle arrived. One of the men at the bar raised his bottle in Nick’s direction and blew him a kiss. Feeling stupid, Nick took a bow and turned back to the beleaguered table just as Beetle sauntered into the bar, gave a look around the room, then settled her gaze on him.

‘Here, let me take care of that for you,’ she said, grabbing a cue and coming to his side. He’d seen her in full drag when they were dressing in wardrobe, but he was still astonished at just how well Beetle pulled off the act. She wore a light jean jacket over a plain white T-shirt, one that fit loosely over her tightly bound breasts. It was clear through her snug black jeans that she was sporting a package. It was a soft cock, he’d been told, made for women who dressed in drag, made for women who wanted to know what it feels like to walk with a cock between their legs. They called it packing. She rubbed it up against his hip as she leant over the table. ‘Let’s start over, shall we? I’ll rack the balls.’

She walked like a man, and the cadence of her voice would have passed for male. Her short, dark hair was styled like a man’s. Even the fake five o’clock shadow on her cheeks looked real. If Nick hadn’t known that it was Beetle leaning over him, fondling his thigh, he’d have thought some man was coming on to him.

Beetle ordered two beers, which they didn’t drink. She seemed to know her way around a pool table much better than he did. But it was hard to pay attention to the game when their real game was to feel each other up and, fuck, if the cock in her jeans pressing against his thigh didn’t feel as real as his own. Only his was getting hard. How could it not be when her hand snaked under the edge of the pool table to stroke him through his jeans?

The game devolved into groping and rubbing and teasing with the pool cues. And when Beetle’s tongue found its way into Nick’s mouth, he braced himself for what was coming next. ‘Don’t think I can wait much longer.’ She spoke against his lips. ‘I want to fuck your ass. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’ She gave his cock a hard stroke.

As the groping and fondling heated up, Beetle stuck a finger inside Nick’s belt and pulled him out behind the bar into an alley next to the trash bins. Then she shoved him forward against the wall and cranked his arm up behind his back. All of this he knew would happen, yet the adrenaline rush of being so handled shocked him, and the thrill of it went straight to his cock. Beetle pulled a bandana from her pocket and tied it over his eyes.

‘Wait a minute,’ he said. ‘What the hell are you doing?’ He didn’t have to fake the nervousness in his voice. Though loss of control seemed to be the norm since he had been with Mount Vegas, it still made him uneasy, still tightened his throat and made his pulse race.

‘I’m making it better,’ Beetle said against his ear. ‘Trust me, you’ll like it.’ Then, while his back was turned and his eyes covered, Beetle lowered her jeans and removed the soft cock. Though he couldn’t see, Nick knew that she then pulled a cock-shaped dildo from the inside pocket of her jacket and fitted it into the strap-on harness she already wore. With rough hands, she yanked and tugged at Nick’s skinny jeans and tiny undershorts until his arse was bared and his cock sprang at full point. She shoved and rearranged him until his back hole was exposed. Though it was still tender from last night, it was no less ready to play as she slathered him with lube. ‘Oh, you want this so bad, don’t you, slut?’ she whispered in his ear, and her fingers went to work on his anus. He nodded and grunted and cursed out loud when she pushed the dildo home, not lingering to caress and dilate his opening as Pike had. But the hot fire quickly turned to that different feeling of fullness he had never known before last night, and he soon forgot the discomfort.

Then Beetle reached around him and began to stroke his cock while she thrust. ‘Fuck, slut, you’re filthy, aren’t you? All hard and heavy and ready to jizz the wall for me, aren’t you?’ She shoved in hard, and Nick swallowed a curse. ‘Aren’t you?’

‘Yessss,’ he hissed between his teeth. And then the tables turned. It was when his hand strayed to reach for Beetle’s hip to pull her in tighter that the fantasy unfolded. Nick’s fumbling fingers found the strap and followed it down to the base of the harness and the anchorage of the dildo.

‘What the fuck?’ He yanked off the handkerchief and pushed Beetle off, throwing her against the wall where she cowered. ‘What the hell are you playing at? Shit! You’re not a guy.’

‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,’ Beetle gasped, suddenly sounding almost little girlish. ‘I only wanted to know what it felt like, what guys feel when they … when they do it to another man.’ Her words ended in a little yelp when Nick shoved up her shirt and found the clasps that held the binding in place. He ripped them free, resulting in a swirling spiral of cloth as he yanked and pulled until her small, pale breasts were exposed in the amber glow of the streetlight. She sucked in a harsh breath as he squeezed them and pinched her nipple.

Then he kissed her on the mouth, hard and long and brutal, and they both came up gasping. ‘So did you like it?’

‘Oh God, yes! It was good. It was great. It was the hottest thing ever,’ she said, her words coming out in breathless little puffs.

‘But it didn’t take care of this, did it?’ He shoved a hand down between her legs, down below the strap-on, and fingered open her pussy. ‘Shit, that’s got to be the wettest cunt I’ve ever felt. Tell me, bitch, do you like it both ways? Cuz I figure you do.’

Beetle nodded and whimpered as he gave her clit a hard pinch.

‘I like taking it up the ass,’ he said as his fingers fucked her wildly, making the strap-on bounce and sway beneath its decoration of binding cloth. ‘But I like to stud a bit of pussy now and then, and yours smells ripe and ready to be fucked.’

With that, he turned her to the wall, spread her legs with a press of his knees, and buried his cock in her cunt, with her keening, ‘Oh God, oh God, oh God!’ Her tight little breasts bounced like jelly and her arse slapped back hard against him each time he thrust into her.

‘I’m gonna make you come, slut, then I’m gonna unload in your filthy little cunt.’ He thrust hard. ‘It’s all your fault, you and your girlie cock. I’ve never had a good pegging before, and I’m a sucker for new experiences, aren’t you?’

Suddenly she convulsed and shivered all over. ‘Oh Christ, I’m coming! I’m coming!’

She came so mightily it felt like she was having some kind of seizure. Her muscular body was small, but powerful, and it was all Nick could do to hold on to her. Before he could regain control, before he knew what was happening, she pushed back hard, then pulled herself off his cock, twisting out from between him and the wall. She grabbed his arm as she did and pinned it up behind his back again. He growled and felt his shoulder pop with just enough tension to make him think twice about struggling. And fuck, before he could catch his breath, she was up in his arse again, deep and hard. He had been warned that the woman was a mixed martial artist, and he made a mental note never to make her mad.

‘I like it both ways, cunt,’ she breathed in his ear. ‘But right now, I want to see you jizz the wall while I fuck your ass. I bet those balls are heavy down there between your legs, all full and distended.’ She offered a sigh. ‘Sadly, there’s no way for me to know what that feels like, is there? So I’ll just have to experience it vicariously.’ She gave the weight of him a cupping and a squeezing, then she manoeuvred herself just so the rake and thrust of the dildo was maddening against his prostate. He ground back against her in his struggle to get more while she cupped his balls and kneaded. ‘Show me how you jerk off,’ she demanded. ‘I want to see how a real man takes care of his cock. Show me. Help me get you there.’

He spat on his palm and thrust his erection into his fist, shoving at it like it was a hungry snatch while Beetle ploughed his arsehole like she was riding a pogo stick.

‘Come for me, slut,’ she huffed against the back of his neck. ‘Come for me.’ He thrust and jerked, and Beetle humped and pushed. He could feel the brick abrading his forearm in his efforts to protect his face from Beetle’s woman-handling, yet the harder she thrust forward the harder he thrust back. Jesus, the woman was driving him crazy!

The last sane thought he had before his cock erupted in spurt after spurt against the wall and Beetle bellowed out another orgasm was how hot Elsa would get watching this mixed-up gender-bender they’d just pulled off. The image of her finger-fucking herself in front of the computer screen, watching Beetle peg his arse, the image of her tugging at her nipples and grinding against the furniture in the control room, made his orgasm sweeter and hotter as he and Beetle collapsed in a heap. He tugged his jeans up enough to protect his bare arse from the gravel as Beetle settled onto his lap in a flurry of tongue kisses while she continued to stroke the strap-on, still wet with lube that smelled of strawberries.

‘I think your ass is going to be very popular,’ she whispered in his ear, once they were sure the cameras were off and the act had ended.

He gave his softening dick a stroke in empathy with her attention to the strap-on. ‘Possibly, but I’m hoping my cock will be even more so.’

Her laughter was a warm against his neck. ‘Trust me, your cock is already the toast of Mount Vegas, and beyond.’

Chapter Eighteen

There were greetings all round when Nick and Beetle got back to the Elara.

‘So Nick, how long before that asshole of yours is ready to play with me?’ Horse said, adjusting his junk in his shorts.

‘I stretched it pretty good for him tonight,’ Beetle said. ‘It won’t be long until he’ll be begging you to ride him, Horse.’ She gave Nick a kiss and slapped him on the back.

‘If you’re looking for Elsa,’ Pike said, handing Nick a beer and a slice of pizza, ‘she had something important to attend to. Sorry, stud.’

Nick ate his pizza without tasting it and tried to participate in the conversation and the recap of the night’s events. Deke and Kandi had had a stealth fuck in the canal down at The Venetian. Pagan and Deb had gone at it in a dressing room at Caesar’s Palace. But it didn’t seem right without Elsa. Something important to attend to, Pike had said. What the hell did that mean? He wondered if she were avoiding him. Jesus, the woman drove him crazy. But he laughed and joked and even settled into the hot tub with Deb and Deke. He figured it would be easier here than it would be at home alone.

As Pike settled in next to him, he asked, ‘Where does Elsa live?’

‘If I told you that, she’d have to kill you. And don’t be so long-faced. You know, it’s not always about you.’

He was showered and dressed and just ready to head home when the email came. Though he’d been invited to crash in the hotel suite, he didn’t feel like sharing a bed tonight unless it was with Elsa.

The email was from her.

You were amazing tonight, Nick. Sorry I missed you afterward, but there were things I needed to take care of. I also wanted you to have the attached information to give our mutual friends when they ask for it. After that, we relax and enjoy the fireworks.

He couldn’t hold back a shiver as he scrolled down to find the details for Mrs Keyser’s big event. He wished he could feel so sure about watching the fireworks. He wished Elsa would just tell him what the hell was going on. He didn’t like the not knowing, and Havers scared him.

Nick had just returned from a morning meeting with Lou-Ann and his limo staff and was halfway through his second Pop Tart when Havers showed up with Tanya at his side. He’d called Havers in the morning before his meeting and left a message with his answering service. Then, as an afterthought, he called Tanya too.

They were both dressed to the nines. He would have expected that of Tanya. He figured she was looking for work and had to keep up appearances. And though Nick wasn’t fashion conscious, he’d seen enough conspicuous consumption in Vegas to know expensive clothing when he saw it, and after what Elsa had told him, he understood why Havers could afford to dress so well.

He opened the door and let them in. Tanya kissed him on the mouth as though they were lovers. ‘You have some news for us,’ she said, not waiting for Havers to speak.

Nick led them upstairs to the kitchen, feeling like a stool pigeon in spite of Elsa’s insistence.

‘That coffee smells great, Mr Chase,’ Havers said. ‘I could use a cup.’

Nick bristled when Havers nodded to Tanya, and she went about making the man a cup of coffee like it were her kitchen, or even worse, like it were Havers’ kitchen and she was his fucking maid. Two sugars and lots of milk, Nick noticed. Tanya knew how the detective liked it. As he watched her set the coffee in front of the man and settle in the chair beside him, Nick was pretty sure Tanya knew how Havers liked lots of things besides his coffee.

Havers took a sip and offered a satisfied sigh. ‘You do make good coffee, Chase. Tell me, did you learn that driving limo or digging fossils?’

‘I learned it from working long hours, and needing caffeine,’ Nick replied.

‘Beats the hell out of the battery acid down at the precinct, that’s for sure.’ Then Havers straightened his tie and studied Nick for a long moment, absently twisting the heavy gold ring around his finger. ‘I’m assuming you’ve come to the conclusion that it’s wise to be on the right side of the law in this situation.’

Nick bit his tongue, reminding himself again that he was doing what Elsa asked. But Christ, it worried him. This man was dangerous. This man could bring down Mount Vegas. This man could hurt Elsa. He downed his own coffee for courage and ignored the Pop Tart, which he no longer wanted. ‘I’m driving the limo for the event you’re talking about, Detective Havers, so I got the details early enough to plan my route. I’m in a position to give you the information you need.’

‘That’s good, that’s great,’ Havers said. ‘To tell you the truth, I wasn’t sure we could count on you, Chase, but Tanya had faith you’d come through.’

Nick ground his teeth. Tanya was a real hero, all right. She’d certainly pulled him in. Though he couldn’t fault her for that when it meant he got to know Elsa. And suddenly he missed her desperately.

‘I have to decide on my route first,’ Nick said. ‘And because of the nature of the client’s fantasy, it’s possible I could be driving around a little bit. You do know that the people involved from London are VIPs with Mount Vegas?’

‘Them, I don’t care about,’ Havers said, waving a beefy hand. ‘They have nothing to do with what’s going on with Elsa Crane as far as we know.’

Nick wondered if Havers had any idea that one of those people was the Martelli heiress.

‘It’s Elsa Crane and Mount Vegas we want. The London folks, as far as we can tell, are just a cover-up the Crane woman is using to pull off the deal. She wants full attention on them. What I really need to know is where I’ll find Elsa Crane and her gang while this is going on. My people have never been able to pinpoint them when the time comes. We know what they do, and we know that they set up control rooms in whatever hotel they deem best for the occasion, but we’ve never managed to catch them in the act.’

Nick found that very difficult to believe. Vegas wasn’t that big. But he would do what Elsa had asked him with no questions. At least for now.

‘Well, you won’t have that problem this time.’ He stood and refilled his coffee cup. ‘They’ll be in the Cosmopolitan. I can’t give you the room number until the day.’

‘Great, fantastic,’ Havers said. ‘I have to catch them in the act, as you know, so timing is everything. But with the information you’ve given us we’ll be able to shut down Crane and her gang for good.’

‘Look,’ Nick said. ‘I’ve never seen anything else going on but what’s supposed to go on, so I can’t help you there. I have no idea what you’re looking for. I’m not in the inner circle.’

‘Oh, don’t you worry about that, Chase. We know what we’re looking for and exactly where to find it. All we really needed were times and locations. That was the missing piece of the puzzle. And now we have that information, we can get rid of this scourge on our fair city.’

Nick nearly gagged on his coffee. Did the man really think him that naïve, that stupid? But he forced a smile. ‘Always glad to do my part.’

‘You’ve made a wise decision, Chase,’ Havers said, coming to his feet and offering Nick his hand. Nick returned the shake with little enthusiasm. ‘I’ll be in touch if I need anything else.’ He nodded to Tanya, who offered Nick a quick glance over her shoulder as she followed him out the door.

It was Nick’s first time to run the control centre, which had been set up at the Paris. It was a low staff night because two of the scheduled acts were simple masturbation scenes – one calling for a man with a large cock. That act starred Horse, of course. And the other starred Kandi, playing with herself in a hot tub. The final act was a one-night stand with Deb picking up Deke. All three were simple one-set fantasies that Nick could cut his teeth on in the control room. Pagan would help him out if he had trouble; otherwise, the big man was curled up on the sofa reading a romance novel. Who knew?

There had been no sign of Elsa, and no word from her other than the terse thank you she had posted back after his meeting with Havers and Tanya. In fact, no one seemed to know where Elsa was, and that made Nick nervous. He reminded himself for the hundredth time that it wasn’t always about him. Whatever was going on with Havers had to weigh on her. Add to that the responsibility of running Mount Vegas, and he couldn’t expect to be the only thing on Elsa’s mind. He certainly felt like she was the only thing on his and it pissed him off a little to think she might not have allocated him quite so much time for obsessing over as he had her.

The acts were all going well. In Nick’s head, he kept replacing Deke and Deb with Elsa and himself. He would love nothing more than to have no agenda with her other than to return to a hotel room together and make love all night – make that all weekend. No, make that all week! Every once in the while, Pagan would peek in and ask how it was going. It was a slow night and a chance for people to have a much-needed break.

The two masturbation scenes had just finished and Horse and Kandi were in the kitchen ordering room service while Deke pleasured Deb in the bathtub using the shower massage. Nick was involved in the last minute wrap-up of the scene, ignoring his hard cock, making sure the ending happened like planned and everyone was out and all cameras off before he headed into the kitchen to join the feast. He heard the commotion outside the bedroom and just assumed it was room service arriving. Then he heard Horse say, ‘Elsa, what are you … Oh my God! Look what the dogs drug in!’

Nick shut down the cameras and called in the all-clear to the room where Deke and Deb were. Then he turned to find Elsa standing in the doorway next to a woman he recognised from a certain late-night Skype session.

Elsa offered a smile. ‘Nick, I’d like you to meet Rita and Edward from The Mount in London.’

Before she could say anything else, Rita Holly swooped in and grabbed him in a bear-hug. ‘Nick Chase! I meet the legend, at last.’

Over Rita’s shoulder, Elsa offered him a shrug. ‘They came early.’

‘We decided we wanted a little holiday,’ Edward said, giving Nick a hearty handshake.

‘Nick, this is Leo,’ Rita said, as a man who was almost as well muscled as Pagan but a little older and a lot darker came into the room. ‘Leo’s our resident voyeur in London, better known as the Zookeeper. He’s hoping you can fit a very special fantasy into your schedule for him.’

‘Is pleasure,’ Leo said, and Nick detected a Slavic accent very similar to Tanya’s.

‘He’s one of our High Council members and one of my very favourite people,’ Rita said.

Just then, room service arrived with enough food to feed half of Vegas, with Deb and Deke following right behind. They had barely settled in when Pike and Beetle showed up to join the party and greet the London contingent.

No one was subtle in their efforts to push Elsa and Nick together. Once they were all settled and scarfing down food, Pike asked around a mouthful of tamale, ‘Is this about Mount Vegas’s status?’

‘Of course is about the Mount Vegas status,’ Leo answered. ‘But is also about a holiday and chance to catch up with good friends.’

Chapter Nineteen

Leo had insisted that the rest of the Mount Vegas team keep his fantasy a secret from the participants. An exception had been made, Nick was told, for the High Council member to participate in his own fantasy. He had a reputation as a voyeur with a very specific kind of kink, and he was well-respected in The Mount.

Nick was collected by Pagan and Pike, who were dressed in dark green coveralls with logo patches over the breast pockets that simply read The Zoo. He was told he’d be working with one other Mount Vegas member and that during the entire act, he was not to speak, and he was to do exactly as Leo told him. If he disobeyed either one of these directives, he would be punished. That was all he knew. He was ushered to a remote part of the car park where a black van awaited with the rear door open. There he was stripped of all his clothing and ordered into the back, into a cage the size of a large pet carrier, which Pike then covered with a heavy blanket, leaving him in darkness.

It felt like they drove for a long time, and in his darkened cage, he had no idea where they were going. It was only when he was released in front of a cabin with the night sky’s diamond sparkle spread overhead that Nick realised he was with Elsa. She didn’t seem happy. But she was as naked as he was, and happy or not, Elsa Crane naked always got his cock’s full attention.

‘Oh, they are here! My lovely pets are here.’ Leo burst from the cabin rubbing his hands together. ‘And look at the two of you –’ he ran a hand up Elsa’s hip and stroked her breasts ‘– so exquisite and so ready to play.’ He cupped Nick’s balls and caressed the length of his erection. ‘But then I hear our Nick is always ready to play, isn’t that true, darling Elsa? Oh, and look how lovely he blushes. He doesn’t want me to know he wants to fuck you, darling. But he is healthy, virile pet. Of course he wants chance to mount you and ride your lovely wet pussy, and you are wet for him, my beauty, aren’t you?’ He lowered a hand over her mons and gave a gentle probe. ‘Of course you are. So wet.’ He nodded to Pike and Pagan, who placed matching blue rhinestone-studded collars around Elsa and Nick’s throats. ‘Thank you, gentlemen. You have been most kind,’ he said to them. ‘Now come along, my darlings, come into the house so that we can play. It will be lovely. You will see.’

He turned to the cabin. Nick gave Elsa a quick glance, which she returned with a shrug, then padded off behind Leo.

The cabin was rustic, but comfortable – only one large room with a small kitchenette and a huge bed. The adjoining bathroom had an enormous Jacuzzi. The small dining table was spread with cold meats, cheeses, bread, and fruit. ‘I know that pets get very hungry when they are allowed to play freely, and you are here to play, my darlings, and pets do so enjoy the playing. Now –’ he snapped his fingers ‘– onto the carpet by the fireplace, both of you. Sit, sit! Get comfortable.’ Leo clucked his tongue as they plopped down cross-legged. Oh my darlings, don’t be nervous. Leo only wants to watch you enjoy yourselves.’ He looked from one of them to the other, then scratched his chin. ‘Is clear that you both need to come quite badly, but you are new pets with still so much to learn. Perhaps is that you don’t know each other so well, and you are shy. Perhaps that is why so nervous. My darlings –’ he stepped closer ‘– pets get to know each other through their noses and with their tongues, and then once they know each other, once they are comfortable, then they can fuck.’

When they gave him a blank stare, he plopped down onto the carpet next to them. ‘Here. Is like this. Come here, Elsa. On your hands and knees now. Is good. Is a good girl. Now open your legs so that Nick can see your little wet pussy, so that he can smell you and taste you.’

Nick could see the blush crawling up Elsa’s throat as she did what the man asked. His stomach fluttered at the sight of Elsa Crane blushing, and his dick responded by stretching closer.

‘That is good girl.’ Leo moved forward to stroke her flank as though she were a flighty horse. ‘Now come here, Nick, come and get to know our Elsa, get to know how much her little pussy needs your cock.’

Feeling a blush burn up over his own cheeks, feeling as though his heart would leap from his chest, Nick positioned himself on hands and knees behind Elsa. It wasn’t so much that he was drawn into the man’s fantasy as he was drawn into the scent and the sight of Elsa spread there before him, so open, so ready. On hands and knees she offered herself in a submissive position, the position of an animal in need of sexual relief. He felt the rise of his own animal lust as he moved closer, inhaling deeply, burying his face in the cleft of her. At first contact her body twitched and she gasped and shuddered and eased back closer to his breath, closer to the lap and plough of his tongue.

‘There you see, Nick, the poor thing needs your cock so badly. She needs you to mount her and make her feel better. You can taste her need, can’t you? You can smell how much she wants you to fuck her. And look at your cock, how it stretches to get closer to her, how your balls are so heavy for her.’

Stating the obvious in such a different way only amplified Nick’s need for Elsa, and as she wriggled back closer to his mouth, and her breath came in tight little gasps, he figured Leo’s dirty talk was having the same effect on her. As he watched them in rut, Leo unzipped his trousers, sat back against the love seat and began to stroke himself.

‘Oh, you are both such lovely pets, so strong and potent, and you both need to come so badly, don’t you, my beauties? Now mount her, Nick. I think that you won’t need to convince her. Put your lovely penis up inside her where she’s all wet and hungry for you, then you can both come and you will both feel so much better, so much more relaxed.’

Nick really did feel like an animal, taking Elsa from behind, an animal mating with the fittest, most powerful female, and as he thrust home, she thrust back against him and growled and grunted in a feral response.

‘Is good,’ Leo gasped. ‘Is so good, now both of you can come. You are ready and you need it so badly. Once you have had the release and then some food, then we will be at our leisure to play.’

Leo was right. It only took a few thrusts and Nick filled her with his need, a need that was desperate and overwhelming. It hadn’t been that long since he’d come. But he knew, and he had a sneaking suspicion that Leo knew as well, that it wasn’t the sex he and Elsa craved so much as it was each other. He wished Elsa knew that.

Leo came into a white handkerchief, and when he had wiped himself, he disappeared into the bathroom and brought back a towel. ‘Now let me clean you up, my darlings, now that you feel better. Then we will have something to eat, and then maybe a bath.’ He tisk-tisked. ‘Pets can be so messy when they fuck.’

Once Leo finished, it was time to eat. They sat on the floor next to the table by Leo’s chair and, as crazy as it seemed, he fed them from his hands – melon, peaches, strawberries dipped in chocolate, chocolate that dripped onto Elsa’s nipples and Nick’s belly, chocolate that had to be licked off. Elsa had softened and warmed to the game, offering playful nips and naughty smiles and rubbing her cheek against Leo’s thigh. She was radiant and relaxed, like Nick had never seen her.

‘You are such lovely pets,’ Leo said, offering each of them a nibble of bread and honey. ‘You see how much more you are yourselves when you are pets. Is good? No?’

Elsa laid her head on Leo’s thigh, and Nick moved to hunch his body over hers so that he could do the same, but still touch her.

Leo stroked her hair and then Nick’s. ‘We forget how to play. We forget how to just be ourselves. Is lovely when we remember again. Is lovely when there is no agenda.’

And he was right. It was, indeed, lovely. Once they’d been fed, they made love once more under the watchful eyes of the Zookeeper, who then bathed them, which turned into a splashy pool-party of a romp that devolved into laughs and giggles and more playful sex. When, at last, they were tired from their play, they curled around each other on the foot of the bed, after Leo crawled down between the sheets. Nick had no idea who else was watching them, if anyone, and he didn’t care. As he pulled Elsa into a possessive spoon position, he couldn’t help being grateful to the Zookeeper for the most intimate time he’d ever had with Elsa Crane.

Leo woke them, long toward morning. He was freshly showered and dressed. ‘My fantasy is over now, darlings.’ He nodded them into the bed and pulled the blankets up over them. ‘You stay and sleep. You are tired from your play.’ He kissed each of them gently then left.

‘Sonovabitch! They took our clothes.’

Nick awoke to find Elsa standing naked in front of an empty wardrobe, and just when he braced for her anger, he realised her shoulders were shaking. For a frightening moment, he thought she was crying. But then he heard a soft snort that erupted into a giggle, followed by an actual belly laugh.

‘They took our fucking clothes! We’re naked, in the desert, with no transport, Nick.’ Still cackling, she moved to the refrigerator and opened the door. ‘But we have a whole fridge full of gourmet food. And coffee! Really good coffee.’ She turned to face him with tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘We hit the jackpot! We hit the fucking jackpot! Maybe they’ll leave us alone. Maybe they’ll forget where they put us. Come on, I’m starving.’

Still trying to get his head around the sight of Elsa Crane laughing hysterically, he watched her lovely backside as she moved about making coffee. But he couldn’t stay away from her for very long. He threw back the covers and moved to stand behind her, his cock stretching toward her in muscle memory.

She reached behind her and gave him a grope. ‘Put that thing away until after I’ve eaten.’ She flipped the coffee maker on and turned in his arms. ‘Then I’ll happily fuck you senseless. In fact –’ she leant into him and raked a sloppy kiss across his mouth ‘– I’m looking forward to it.’

They sat close to each other at the table, eating the leftovers of last night’s feast, even feeding each other tasty morsels with sticky fingers or with sticky lips. Nick was outrageously hard. But he was so much more than just aroused. He was happy! Fuck, he couldn’t remember ever being this happy. So when Elsa deliberately missed his mouth with a morsel of strawberry raked through cream cheese and licked the residue off of his chin and then his chest, he curled his fingers in her hair and held her there against the hammering of his heart.

In a move that totally surprised him, she shoved in between him and the table to sit on his lap and, though his cock was quick to respond, damned if his heart wasn’t quicker. Her kiss was long and lingering, tasting of coffee and strawberries, and the scent of lavender from the bath didn’t hide the scent of her with which he’d become so familiar. The scent of sleep still lingered on her skin, and beneath that was the scent of lust that was the core of the woman, the scent of wildness that lent itself perfectly to being a pet. Her sigh was a deep shudder. ‘I could get lost in you, Nick Chase. So easily I could get lost in you, and that scares me.’

He pulled her close, feeling as though he could never get close enough. ‘If you get lost in me, I’ll always find you, Elsa Crane.’

She stood so quickly that he wondered if he’d said something wrong, and everything in him tightened at the thought of losing her again. Instead, she paced in front of the fireplace. Then she turned to face him and plopped down on the rug, not unlike she had when Leo was there.

‘There were sand hill cranes. They were migrating out across the prairies of Nebraska when I ran away. They were beautiful, powerful, and they could just fly away, whenever they wanted. That’s how I became Elsa Crane. And Elsa – well, I just liked that name.’

Hardly able to breathe, Nick came to sit next to her and took her hand. To his delight, she didn’t pull away. ‘Edgar Terrill, he was my husband.’ She raised a hand as though clearing a chalkboard. ‘He’s dead now. I was Elizabeth Harold Terrill. I married him for security mostly. I was 19 and he was 40 and he was loaded. He fancied himself a dom, but really he was just a bully. He …’ She took a deep breath and pulled her knees up tight against her chest. ‘He beat me, I mean really beat me. He liked to humiliate me by making me take pictures of what he did with other women in his dungeon. It was an amazing dungeon. He had the money to do it up right.’

‘Fuck,’ Nick, whispered, fighting back the urge to take her in his arms, to protect her, fighting back the urge to kill a man who was already dead. He sat still and listened, not wanting to spook her, not wanting her to feel threatened.

‘I got good at taking pictures, making videos, at making them look … like he wanted them to look. I got good at telling him what he should do to make the pictures better. When I did that, when he was pleased, he left me alone. And because he was pleased, he let me spend my days researching BDSM sites and sex sites, researching anything that might make his little dungeon excursions better.’ She shook her head and her fingers tightened around Nick’s hand. ‘He didn’t want me out of the house unless we were together. He controlled every aspect of my life, and he thought … he thought I was such a little slut, such a little pervert that I was happy to stay at home locked away, that I was happy to research sex sites and how to take better pictures, better videos, find better ways for him to show what a sex god he was.

‘I got good at what he left me, that’s what I did. It was all I could do.’ She looked up into Nick’s eyes. ‘So one day I convinced him to let me tie him up. I’d been researching Shibari at the time, and I’d promised to show him what I’d learned. I told him his women would think it was sexy, what I would show him. I tied him spread-eagle between two pillars in the basement. And then I –’ she took a deep breath ‘– and then I beat him.’

Nick said nothing. He wasn’t sure he could even speak around the rise of feelings he could barely get his head around.

‘No, that’s not right. I didn’t beat him. I tortured him. I used all of those instruments he’d either used on me or I’d videoed him using on his women on him. At first, he screamed at me and called me names, told me he’d kill me when I released him. So I gagged him.’ She looked up at Nick. ‘I could have just beaten him and left, but the thing is, Nick, he got hard. And I got wet. I found I liked doing to him what he’d done to so many others, what he’d done to me, and that I had way more finesse at it than he would ever have.’

‘Jesus,’ Nick whispered.

She laughed softly. ‘It gets better. I made him come. And then I made him hold it until I wanted him to come. And when he was quivering all over, when I knew he would die holding it in order to obey me, I let him come. Nick, I’d never felt such power, such control. I don’t know how long I was there. I had only planned to give him a good, hard thrashing and leave. But when he was too exhausted to go on, I left him shackled to the bondage bed. I already had my bags packed. I’d figured out how to hack his bank account, so I withdrew enough to get me well on my way. I bought a used car from a disreputable dealer, paid cash, and then I just drove.’

She smiled up at Nick. ‘No, I didn’t kill him, if that’s what you’re thinking, and I didn’t deliberately leave him there to die. Though I heard later that it took him a while to recover. I knew the names and numbers of the women he had me make arrangements with. I left a message for one of them to come after I was gone. Plus, I knew the maid who always cleaned up after playtime – she played sometimes too. I knew she’d be down soon enough.’

‘And that’s how you ended up in Vegas?’ Nick pulled a blanket from the bed and settled it around her shoulders.

‘I had enough money to get me started, keep me from starving. For the first three days I was afraid to leave the hotel room, afraid Edgar would find me. But the more time passed, the more sure I became that wasn’t going to happen, the more I explored Vegas. I created a new identity, I surfed the net, I schemed. I didn’t know what to do at first, but then one night at a casino bar, I heard a couple of men talking about the sex they’d seen through their telescopes at night from the hotel room windows. They both regretted that people weren’t more creative.

‘So I bought the equipment I thought I’d need, hired a few people I’d met working in the casinos who I thought would be up for it, and put my plan into action. I’d done several fantasies and was pulling in enough to pay the bills when I met Pike. He had insights, ideas, connections. It was only later that I learned he was a member of The Mount in Houston, and that he’d been sent to me because someone in Houston heard about what I was doing.’

‘And what happened with Edgar?’

‘I angsted for a long time, not sure if I’d killed him, worried that I had injured him, and yet knowing that I’d done everything right.’ She pulled the blanket tighter around her. ‘Mostly I worried that I’d liked it so much, that I had fantasies about keeping him there bound in the dungeon, using him to learn, to push my boundaries, and his. And then I’d wake up in a cold sweat from dreams that he had found me and he was going to carry out his promise and kill me.

‘Then I got the divorce papers. They came via a very circuitous route. It was no fault, with a hefty settlement. Definitely not like Edgar. It was only later I learned The Mount could be very persuasive. He died last year. Heart failure. He left me everything. The man had no heirs, and though I can’t imagine him wishing me anything but the worst, there you go. Pike said maybe he was grateful that I helped him find his inner submissive, but I think it’s more likely that someone at The Mount … suggested he leave the money to me.’

Nick scooted close and took her into his arms. ‘So it’s over and yet you still tell me you don’t exist.’

‘I owe The Mount a lot, Nick. They’ve taken care of me, helped me heal. And for me to be given the responsibility of beginning a new coven in Vegas is an honour I can never repay. I came here as no one. I stayed no one all this time to protect myself, and until Mount Vegas is given coven status, I’ll continue to be no one. And no, they didn’t ask it of me. I felt it was best. That’s all.’

‘And what happened with Edgar is why you never take up the role as dominatrix in the dungeon?’

She stood and sipped from her now tepid coffee, holding the blanket around her like a robe. ‘I wanted to kill him, Nick. For weeks before it all happened, while I was planning, I had dreams about doing just that.’ She turned to face him. ‘And they weren’t nightmares. Oh, Pike’s tried to get me to do acts as the dominatrix, but Beetle’s good in the dungeon and so is Deb when she needs to be. Better to keep me out of there. Better to let someone who knows their limits take control. How do I know what kind of monster I’ll unleash if I turn myself loose in the dungeon at Mount Vegas? How do I know if I’ll be able to control myself? I couldn’t bear it if I hurt those I love, those who trust me.’

‘Elsa –’ he took her into his arms ‘– it was your control that kept you from killing Edgar. Surely you can see that. It was your control that pulled you back from the brink.’

She slipped her arms around his neck and buried her face against his shoulder, and the blanket fell away. He pulled her close, feeling her next to him like another part of him, a part he’d discovered only recently, a part he hadn’t known was missing until he found her. That she had told him her story, that she’d made herself so vulnerable to him, was something he still couldn’t settle his mind around.

His cock was just beginning to stretch and press against her when there was a brisk knock and Rita and Leo stepped inside. Leo pulled a suitcase in one hand and had a garment bag thrown over his shoulder.

‘Sorry to interrupt,’ Rita said. ‘We gave you as much time as we could. I wish it had been more.’

Elsa lifted her mouth to Nick’s and settled a soft kiss on his lips. ‘It’s all right, Rita. It was enough.’

‘Sometimes is our animal nature that can help us get in touch with what it is that’s really important,’ Leo said. ‘Now come. You will bathe. I have brought clothes, and then we will go back to the Mount Vegas offices and talk.’

Chapter Twenty

‘Not a good time, Nick.’ Elsa looked up from her laptop and then glanced over her shoulder toward the living quarters behind her office.

‘Well, that’s just too damn bad.’ He shook his BlackBerry at her. ‘What’s this message about Pagan driving the limo instead of me for Mrs Keyser’s fantasy? That’s not in the plan. That’s not a part of the deal. Now what the fuck’s going on?’

She offered a half-hearted chuckle and pushed back from her desk, shutting the door to the living area as she did so. ‘What, are you afraid you’ll miss seeing our billionaire grope his virgin bride? OK, I know Rita looks good, but I’m not too bad.’

As she rounded the desk, he pulled her into his arms and gave her mouth a good hard tongue-lashing until her knees were weak, until she clung to him breathlessly. ‘You know I’d give the hottest fantasy you can muster a miss if it meant spending time with you, Elsa, so stop playing with me. What the hell’s going on?’

‘Look, I’m sorry. We’ll talk about this later, but not now.’ She shrugged him off, then took his hand and guided him toward the door.

‘Don’t fob me off,’ he said, jerking away from her. ‘I have a right to know.’

She worried her lip between her teeth, and shifted from foot to foot, struggling to hold his gaze. ‘Look, I just … this is not your battle, Nick. You’ve already been pulled in too deep as it is. I never intended for you to get involved. I never imagined you’d volunteer to fulfil Tanya’s contract, and I just think it’s better if we do it this way. Now, really –’ She looked over her shoulder toward the door to the living quarters. ‘You have to leave. I’m very –’

‘That’s bullshit. This is as much my battle as it is anyone’s, Elsa, and you know it. I’m not leaving until we get this straightened out.’

‘Damn it, Nick!' It’s not your fucking call. I can kick your ass out of this organisation as easily as I did Tanya’s, and I will if I have to. I want you safe! I don’t want you anywhere near Mount Vegas tomorrow night.’

‘Elsa –’ he took her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him ‘– that’s not going to happen. If you keep me from driving, I’ll be mad as hell, but I’ll be right there with you and the rest of the gang in the control room. So deal with it.’

‘Elsa, if it’s not too much trouble, I need you to come and look at …’ The door to the living quarters burst open and Tanya stepped out. She stopped mid-sentence when she saw Nick still holding onto Elsa’s shoulders. For a second everyone froze, and the room was awash in prickly silence.

Then Nick stepped back, looking from one of them to the other. ‘Would someone mind telling me what the hell’s going on?’

Tanya said nothing. She only nodded to Elsa, who blew out a heavy breath and rubbed the back of her neck. Then she held him in her clear blue gaze. ‘Tanya’s working for Mount Vegas, Nick,’ Elsa said. ‘She’s helping us bring down Havers.’

Nick managed to get the sofa under his arse before he dropped like a stone. For a moment, he sat looking from one to the other feeling like he’d just fallen into the Twilight Zone.

Tanya broke the deafening silence. ‘I was the way in.’ She sat down in the chair across from him.

‘What do you mean the way in?’

‘She broke the rules on purpose, that’s what she means.’ Elsa took the seat next to Nick. ‘We knew Havers had plans to bring us down and then give us a choice of going to prison for something we didn’t do or paying the huge price for his protection services. We just didn’t know how he would do it or when, so we decided to be proactive. We had Tanya very conspicuously gambling away lots of money, we had her having sex with people she wasn’t supposed to. We made sure one of those was Havers. We knew he’d love nothing more than to get his claws into an insider from Mount Vegas.’

‘I was the perfect insider for him,’ Tanya said. ‘I am alien here in this country and, shall we say, I have sketchy past. That means I am expendable in Havers’ eyes. That means he would never think of me as being a danger to him. I have too much to risk.’

‘Christ!’ Nick ran a hand through his hair and glared at first one of them then the other. ‘And me?’

‘You were only supposed to be Tanya’s last fuck, the straw that broke the camel’s back.’ Elsa said. ‘We knew who you were and that you were a nice guy. What we didn’t know, what we could have never suspected, was that you would follow Tanya on in, that you would volunteer to fulfil her contract.’

‘And we had to let you do this because Havers had men watching me that night.’

‘Fuck,’ Nick whispered. ‘And the part about your mother needing surgery?’

‘My mother is dead, Nick, for a long time now. It was excuse I used to make my … situation seem more heart-breaking. That I have a gambling problem that I would try to pay off with sex is not so unusual here in Vegas. Everyone has hard luck story in Vegas. When you volunteered to fulfil my contract, we all believed that once you saw what it is that it would mean, then you would go away and be none the wiser for it.’

‘But you pursued me,’ Nick said. ‘You asked me to come back, to talk to Elsa.’

‘It was Havers. He insisted that I do that. I still didn’t think that you would, and I wanted my situation to look real. Havers was already watching me most of the time. If he had suspected for one minute that I was lying, it could have been bad. He saw us together, and then I stupidly told him that you were offering to rescue me. He then pushed me to use you.’

‘When you came back –’ Elsa continued the story ‘– we thought what you saw, what I offered you with Beetle and Deb would frighten you off.’ She looked down at her hands folded in her lap. ‘Though I have to confess that by that time I wasn’t too anxious for you to leave.’

‘We. You keep saying we. Does that mean that all of Mount Vegas is in on this little game?’ Nick said.

‘No,’ Elsa replied. ‘Only Tanya and me. I didn’t want anyone else at risk. I’ve got friends as well as enemies in the police force, and places considerably higher than that. The fewer of my people who knew, the better. To them it just looked like Tanya kept fucking up. That’s all. And the London folks know only because you told them. Honestly, we had no idea that Havers would try to involve you. That was never part of the plan.’

‘So all of this has been a lie then.’ Nick stood and wiped sweaty hands down his jeans. The weight in his chest felt like lead. ‘You were just toying with me all the time.’

‘No, Nick.’ Elsa stood and reached for his hand. ‘I was never toying with you. I would have refused you completely if I’d known Havers would get you involved. And as for the rest, you have to believe –’

He jerked his hand away. ‘Believe what? That any of it was any more than just another good act for the client? Tell me, Elsa, why should I believe that? Why should I believe any of what you say?’ She reached for him again, but he stepped back. ‘Never mind. It hardly matters now, does it? Get whoever you want to drive the damn limo. Just return it when you’re done.’ He turned and left.

‘You must go after him,’ Tanya said. ‘You can’t let him go thinking such a thing.’

Elsa felt like she’d been gutted, but she didn’t move. ‘Let him think what he wants, as long as it keeps him safe.’

With hands that were way steadier than she felt on the inside, she picked up her BlackBerry and sent an email to all of the members of the Mount Vegas team informing them of a change of venue for the control room from the Cosmopolitan to the Bellagio. Nick was included on that list, though she figured he probably wouldn’t show up anyway, and it was just as well. This would keep everyone safe, and that’s what mattered now, keeping her team safe.

‘Is not right, Elsa, you letting him think that you have used him so. He’s good man,’ Tanya said.

‘That’s right. He is a good man, and he doesn’t deserve to be caught up in this.’

‘It seems to me that the man loves the Mount Vegas as much as we all do, and that he should have some say in what he deserves.’

‘I didn’t ask for your opinion, Tanya, and there are already way more people involved in this mess than I ever intended. I want it over with and I want my people out of harm’s way. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I’ve got a fantasy to plan.’

Tanya didn’t move. She stood with her shoulders squared and her gaze locked on Elsa. ‘And I am also one of your people, in case you have forgotten this. What I have done I have done out of love for you, for the Mount Vegas. It has not been easy for me to do this thing that you asked of me and to let the people I care about think bad things of me, but I did it. And is nothing that any one of us wouldn’t do for you, Elsa. And Nick, maybe Nick even more so. You are not God, and sometimes even Elsa Crane needs help.’ Then she turned and left.

When she was gone, Elsa locked the door behind her, then laid her head down on her desk and wept.

The day of Mrs Keyser’s fantasy dawned bright and clear. Elsa went through the motions of helping set up the control room and making sure everything was ready, of joking and laughing with the London folks as they got ready for their big performance. Nick was noticeably absent, just as she had planned it, though there was still a part of her that had hoped he would defy her, that had hoped perhaps he cared enough about her …

Best not to go there, she reminded herself. What was done was done, and she should have known better than to involve herself with him any more than she was involved with any of the rest of the team. Her lapse in judgement had caused them both pain, caused her way more grief than she would have ever thought possible.

Once everything had been sorted and organised, she made the excuse of an urgent meeting and left her team to do what they did best. Then she made her way back to the Cosmopolitan to make sure that the original control room was set up the way she wanted it. It was one of seven rooms in hotels around the city that Elsa maintained permanently for Mount Vegas use. They were all registered under different names, names that changed randomly throughout the course of the year so that no one would suspect anything. That was a holdover from her days of not knowing if Edgar would show up to make good on his threat. It worked well for what Mount Vegas did too, helping to maintain the anonymity they needed and the discretion their clients demanded.

She arrived at the Cosmopolitan with one medium hard-sider suitcase and a hefty briefcase. Within the two bags, she had all the equipment she would need. Once inside, she checked the room to make sure everything was in order. First she set up the scope. And then she went to work on the rest, setting up the bedroom she used for the control room just as she always did, with a few minor changes.

She showered, dressed and prepared herself, all the while struggling to focus on what was ahead of her, what had to happen for this nightmare to come to an end, struggling not to focus on the pain below her sternum she felt at Nick’s absence. Once she was ready, make-up perfect, hair perfect, room perfect, she settled in to wait. This was where Havers would find her when he came for her, as she knew that he would. If things went badly, if the man had more influence than she thought he did, then the rest of her team would be safe and unharmed, and they wouldn’t face prison or … worse.

Chapter Twenty-one

Nick arrived just in time to view Edward on the control room monitor, dressed as the billionaire, with Rita Holly as his innocent virgin bride. They were at The Wedding Chapel.

‘You have lovely breasts,’ Edward half growled, tugging the front of his bride’s white off-the-shoulder gown down until the swell of her nearly spilled over the top, thumbing her nipples through the thin fabric as he did so.

Rita whimpered, ‘Oh please, sir, not here. I feel so exposed, and it’s a church.’

She yelped as his hand found its way up under the taffeta and began to stroke.

‘What, do you think God wouldn’t approve of a man fondling his woman?

She shivered at his touch and shifted her hips ever so slightly. He offered a whisper of a laugh. ‘Good girl, you left off the panties just like I told you to.’ He moved in closer and lowered his face to bite the top of one breast and she gasped. He chuckled into her cleavage. ‘You like that, don’t you? It makes you wet, doesn’t it, darling? You may be a virgin, but you’re still a little slut. That’s what makes you worth the money I paid for you. Oh yes, you’re a slut, with your little clitty so tight and hard.’ He nibbled her ear. ‘Do you even know what your clit is, sweetheart? Do you know where it’s at? I like the thought of teaching you just exactly where everything is, and how to make it feel real good.’ He guided her hand to the bulge in his trousers and she blushed and quivered.

‘Where the hell have you been?’ Pike hissed over his shoulder at Nick. Everyone shushed him as Edward guided his virgin bride’s hand inside his fly to feel, for the first time, what a man felt like.

Nick ignored the question. ‘Where’s Elsa?’

‘She said something came up that needed dealing with,’ Beetle replied. ‘Grab a beer and get in here. Rita and Edward are amazing.’

Before he could tell them he thought Elsa was drawing Havers away from the rest of Mount Vegas, the newly married couple and their driver were suddenly surrounded by police. All three were forced up against the side of the limo, spread-eagle, while Edward cursed at the officers. ‘What the hell’s the meaning of this? Do you know who I am? How dare you accost my wife and me on our wedding day? I want to talk to your superiors.’

While they were frisked by uniformed officers, two more officers searched the vehicle. ‘What the hell’s going on?’ Edward shouted.

‘What the hell is going on?’ Pike repeated on the other side of the monitor. ‘This is not the way the act is scripted.’

‘Where the fuck’s Elsa?’ Nick’s voice rose above the murmuring of the spectators. ‘She’s in danger. I’ve got to get to her.’

‘I don’t know where she is,’ Pike said. ‘She didn’t tell me. There are often things that come up she has to take care of. Some of our clients won’t speak to anyone but her. Nick, if you know what’s going on, you’d better come clean.’

‘It’s Havers. He’s staged a raid. I imagine he’s planted drugs in the limo and plans –’

Pike grabbed him by the throat and shoved him up hard against the wall, rattling the equipment. ‘You knew about this? You fucking knew about this and didn’t tell me?’

Nick shoved back. ‘Get the hell off me. Yes! I knew about this, and Elsa made me promise to keep it quiet. Now shut up and listen. Elsa’s in danger.’ He suddenly had everyone’s full attention. ‘There has to be some place she’d go,’ he said.

As the police search continued on screen, Beetle spoke up. ‘She’s trying to protect us. Crazy woman! She’s never changed the control room venue on us before. The control room’s the heart of the fantasies. It’s the first thing that’s ever set and it’s written in stone until the night’s over. We should have guessed something was wrong. The Cosmopolitan. That was where we were supposed to be.’

‘Room 2017,’ Pike added just as the door opened and Tanya burst in.

‘Tell them what’s going on, Tanya,’ Nick called over his shoulder. ‘Elsa set us all up. I’m going to find her.’

The room erupted in chaos, but Nick didn’t care. He was already in the hall and racing toward the elevator. He had to get to Elsa before Havers did.

The knock on the door, though completely expected, still made Elsa jump. On the monitor, she watched the police frisk Rita and Edward and Pagan, searching for the drugs they wouldn’t find. Her people were safe. They would all stay safe. She turned down the volume and moved to the door like she was moving in a dream.

‘Hello, Elsa. Surprised to see me?’ Havers stood in the hall, dressed in his expensive suit. The heavy diamond in his ring caught the light in the entryway and flashed bright. ‘I’m sure by now you’ve seen that your people are being searched, and I don’t have to tell you that the officers will find exactly what they’re looking for.’ He unbuttoned his jacket to expose his gun holster – for her benefit, no doubt. He nodded toward the control room. ‘Shall we watch the fun?’

She stepped aside, and Havers walked in. ‘Good girl. I like a cooperative woman, and if you want this evening to end sweet, then you’re going to have to be extra cooperative. Are we clear?’

‘Very.’

‘Good, then let’s have a look. Where is everyone? I figured we’d have a party.’

‘We’re only running one fantasy tonight, so I gave everyone the night off.’

‘What a considerate boss you, are, Ms Crane. No wonder they all love working for you. Tanya tells me your people are quite loyal.’

On the control room monitor, the search continued. The limo was being practically torn apart and the cops had done everything but cavity-search its three passengers.

Havers stepped forward, and glared hard at the monitor. ‘What the fuck?’

Elsa said nothing.

When the police had given up on their search of the car, the virgin bride spoke over her shoulder. ‘If you’re looking for the cocaine that was planted in the trunk of our limo – well, the cops already found that. The other cops. You know? The good cops?’ She offered them a dainty smile. ‘So you lot might as well go have coffee and doughnuts because it’s all been sorted.’

‘What the fuck’s going on?’ Havers said.

‘False alarm, detective. My people don’t mess with drugs. The whole damn police department knows that. Oh, and the man who planted them – Bridger, I think was his name –he’s not ratting on anyone yet, but the night’s young, and I know the lovely officers from Internal Affairs who are interrogating him. I’m confident they’ll get a full confession,’ Elsa said, eyes still glued to the crazy scene on the monitor. Rita, Edward and Pagan now leant back against the limo and watched while the supervising officer confirmed what Rita had just said.

Havers glared at the goings on around the limo with his hands thrust in his pockets, then he chuckled softly. ‘That –’ he nodded to the screen where Pagan was helping the billionaire and his bride back into the limo ‘– none of that matters, you know. First of all you’re assuming Bridger will live long enough to get interrogated. Dangerous business, police work. Many a good cop lost in the line of duty. Secondly, you’re the one I’m after because you’re the one in control. It’s that loyalty that Tanya spoke of I’m counting on, sweetheart. So if you want to stay out of trouble and stay in one piece in my town, then you’re gonna have to pony up like everyone else does, like your Tanya’s doing.’

‘Ah, you want to extort money from me.’

Havers shrugged. ‘Call it what you want. I prefer to think of it as a little insurance policy for your organisation and the safety of its employees.’

‘That must be how you afford that big hunk of jewellery –’ she nodded to the ring ‘– and if I’m not mistaken, the suit’s tailored. Can’t afford many of those on a cop’s salary.’

‘Let’s just say my pension plan’s a little better than most on the force.’

‘I’m sure it is, but I already have insurance, and I know how to take care of my people.’

Havers turned on her so quickly that she hadn’t seen it coming. She gasped as he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her back tight against his shoulder. ‘I don’t think you quite get the picture, Elsa. The deal is simple. If I get my percentage, you and your people and your property stay safe. If I don’t –’ he jerked her until she thought her neck would snap ‘– then I can’t vouch for anyone’s safety and, really, Vegas can be such a dangerous place. Here’s the way this is going to work. I get 15 per cent for keeping you and your people safe, along with certain other fringe benefits.’ He shoved a hand inside her tank top and groped her breast. Then he looked around the room. ‘Since we’re here alone, well, I don’t see why we can’t start off now with some of those extras.’ He thrust his clothed cock against her bottom. ‘You know, as a token of good faith.’

She relaxed into his grip to ease the pain in her scalp and allowed him to guide her to the other bedroom.

Getting a key card for the room was a testament to the quality of Nick’s training at Mount Vegas and to his ability to sweet talk if necessary. Plus the receptionist recognised him from the previous time he’d been at the hotel with Elsa. Thankfully, the woman let slip that Elsa was already upstairs. He had just taken a gamble that she would change the venue to protect everyone and face Havers alone. Jesus, the woman was infuriating, and he loved her for it.

He had been up all night thinking about what had happened and, in the end, it had been simple. He couldn’t just walk away from Elsa Crane. He knew her heart. That was the truth of it. He knew her heart, whether she wanted to admit it or not. She had trusted him with intimate secrets. She had let him in. And if she were trying to protect him and her people, well, he’d have done the same thing in her shoes. And damn it, she wasn’t getting rid of him that easily. Mount Vegas was the closest thing to a family, to a place to belong, that he’d had in a long time, and it was worth fighting for.

There was no alternative but to use the electronic card key and risk being heard. He gritted his teeth and let the card click as it slid home. Then he pushed the door open. From the control room, he could hear the sounds of sex, and he knew that, in a nearby room, the billionaire was now devirginising his bride, and she was liking it plenty. But the control room was deserted and his heart stopped. His breathing stopped. Sweat trickled under his armpits, and the back of his neck went clammy.

Dear God, had Havers already got to Elsa? Who knew what the bastard would do? What if he’d taken her somewhere? No one would ever know. It was then he heard a gasp come from the other bedroom followed by a little yelp. Then he heard Havers say, ‘I hear the beds here are real comfortable. Not that I’m concerned with comfort, Elsa – at least not yours.’

Relief nearly drove Nick to his knees even as every muscle in his body tensed. He moved silently to the second bedroom, barely daring to breathe. There he peeked around the corner to see Havers give Elsa a hard shove onto the bed. The man was about to undo his fly when Nick tackled him from behind, and Elsa came up off the mattress like a cat pouncing, calling Nick’s name as the two men tumbled to the floor. But before Nick could pin him, Havers pulled a gun, and everyone froze.

‘That was stupid, Mr Chase,’ he said, breathing hard as he pushed his way to his feet and gestured to Nick to do the same. ‘You just lost your helpful citizen award. The law doesn’t look kindly on people who assault police officers.’ He motioned Nick over next to Elsa.

‘You all right?’ Nick said, keeping his eyes on Havers and the gun.

‘Elsa’s just fine,’ Havers replied. ‘Though I would imagine she’s really disappointed that you interrupted our fun. Never mind. There’ll be plenty of time for me to pork the bitch later.’ Nick bristled and Havers chuckled at the response he’d clearly hoped for. ‘We were just discussing the … benefits of Elsa allowing me and my team to protect Mount Vegas. You see, Elsa, Nick here’s a perfect example. He finds himself at gunpoint, and without my protection. Now, if Mount Vegas were under my protection, he would be under my protection too, but as it is – well, if I were to shoot him right here and now, especially after he’s assaulted me and all, and if he were to die on the way to the hospital …’ He raised the gun and took aim. ‘The police force would not only understand, but they would completely sympathise.’ He cocked the gun. ‘You see how a simple monthly insurance payment can save lives, Elsa?’

‘All right!’ Elsa stepped in front of Nick with her hands up. ‘All right, I’ll do what you ask. I’ll pay you the money, just put the gun down.’

Havers lowered the gun slightly. ‘There, you see, Chase. She can be cooperative when it suits her.’

The electronic door lock sounded like a gunshot in the charged atmosphere and the faltering in Havers’ attention was all Nick needed. He dived at the man and the gun went off. He heard Elsa shout his name just as the bullet shattered the light fixture overhead. In his peripheral vision, Nick caught a glimpse of Tanya. As Havers rolled and bucked, Elsa stomped his wrist with a sharp stiletto. He yowled and cursed, and the gun fell away from his grasp. She grabbed it up, and Nick rolled off him just as Tanya nabbed him in the neck with a stun gun. He convulsed, gurgled, and went limp. Almost before it could all sink in, the room was flooded with police.

‘It’s all right now, Ms Crane.’ A policeman took the gun gently from Elsa’s hands and gave her arm a reassuring pat. ‘Everything’s under control. It’s all right. We have everything we need.’

Tanya launched herself at Elsa, smothering her in a hug that could have cracked ribs. Then she stepped back and looked expectantly, first at Nick, then at Elsa, and Elsa came into Nick’s arms with a little sob. She held on to him tightly while the cops cuffed Havers, and Nick was very all right with that.

‘Are we all going to be in trouble?’ he asked as two of the policemen dragged Havers to his feet.

A squat cop built like a fireplug answered with a jerk of his head. ‘Only one in trouble here’s Detective Havers. Thanks to Ms Crane and Ms Povic, we’ve got all the evidence we need to finally bring him down.’

Nick looked from one of them to the other. Elsa lifted onto her toes and kissed him. ‘I specialise in voyeuristic experiences, remember?’ She nodded to the control room. ‘This was just one more.’

As they left the hotel suite, Fireplug Cop leant in close to Elsa. ‘Ms Crane, I don’t suppose there’s any chance of us getting our hands on a copy of that act you were just recording? Some of us would like to know what happens with the billionaire and his virgin bride.’

Her laughter was a sound from heaven to Nick. ‘I don’t think Mrs Keyser would mind at all,’ she said, ‘especially when she knows nothing about this little fantasy.’

Nick raised an eyebrow. ‘You mean it was all a set-up?’

‘Oh, it’s Mrs Keyser’s fantasy all right. We just happen to be acting it out two weeks early. I didn’t expect Rita and Edward to show up so soon and, well, there’s no keeping a secret from Coraline Martelli’s daughter. That being the case, it looks like the two of us might still get our chance to play the billionaire and his bride.’ She batted her eyelashes delicately.

Back in the suite at the Bellagio, the three of them were overwhelmed with hugs and backslaps, and especially from the bride and groom, still dressed for their nuptials. Pike shoved his way forward and group hugged all three of them. ‘Welcome back, Tanya. We missed you.’ Then he turned his attention to Elsa. ‘Don’t you ever, ever pull a stunt like that again and then keep it from us or I’ll have you in my dungeon whether you like it or not.’ He folded her in a hug that lifted her off her feet, then he gave Nick a meaningful nod toward the empty bedroom. Nick didn’t have to be told twice. He grabbed Elsa by the hand and marched her to the only place in the suite that wasn’t crawling with Mount folks.

Before she could say anything, he scooped her into his arms and kissed her long and hard. ‘I don’t care,’ he said, when he finally pulled away. ‘I don’t care that you kept this whole thing from me – well, I do care, but it doesn’t change the way I feel.’

‘Nick, I –’

‘I don’t want to hear excuses. I know everything was a ruse to help the cops bring down Havers and his gang, and I understand why you couldn’t tell me. I do. But the rest of it, the rest of what’s happened between you and me, is real and you can’t tell me it isn’t.’ He took her face in his hands and forced her to meet his gaze. ‘I love you, Elsa Crane, and it took nearly losing you to make me realise that.’

‘No!’ She pushed his hands away and stepped back. ‘No, you don’t love me. You can’t possibly love me. If you really knew me, you wouldn’t say that. You couldn’t.’

‘What, because of your past? Fuck, we all have pasts and I don’t care. All I care about is now. All I care about is us.’

‘But Nick, I –’

There was a soft knock on the door and Leo stuck his head in. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt. I know is not a good time and you two have been through rough night, but you are needed. If you would please come.’

Elsa didn’t try to pull away when Nick took her hand. In the lounge, everyone had settled on sofas, chairs, and the floor – all with plates and drinks, and the feeding frenzy was on. Rita, still dressed in her bridal gown, sat between Edward and Leo on the sofa. She smiled up at Nick and Elsa. ‘I like the dress. Thought I’d wear it a little longer for fun.’

‘You look good in it,’ Elsa said.

‘I know the two of you’ve had a rough night,’ Rita said, ‘and you deserve a break. Well, I promise you’ll get one soon.’

From somewhere, Pagan and Pike produced a couple of chairs for them, and they sat. Rita nodded her thanks and continued. ‘What I have to say is too important to put off, especially after all that’s just happened.’ She came to her feet and stood in front of Elsa and Nick looking more like a priestess than a bride. ‘Nick, you know that people who petition for membership into The Mount have to undergo an initiation. We talked about that the other night. I hope you want to be a member of The Mount, because the Mount definitely wants you.’

‘I’d like that. Very much.’ Nick spoke around the lump in his throat. He hadn’t realised until Rita had asked him just how badly he did want membership into The Mount. ‘I’d like to be a permanent part of Mount Vegas, if they’ll have me.’

There was a spontaneous eruption of applause and cheering from the assembled crew. ‘And there’s your answer,’ Rita said. ‘The decision hasn’t been taken lightly by any member of the Mount Vegas Council, but they all agree your place is with them and you’re an asset that’ll very much enhance Mount Vegas.’

‘What do I have to do?’ Nick asked, feeling Elsa’s fingers curl around his in encouragement. ‘For my initiation, I mean.’

‘We’ve also discussed that.’ This time it was Elsa who spoke. ‘We’ve all agreed that there’s nothing we could put you through, as far as an initiation goes, that would prove your worthiness more than what you’ve already done, for us and for Tanya. So the membership’s yours if you want it.’

There was another round of applause and then Rita cleared her throat to get everyone’s attention again. ‘There’s one more very important matter to discuss and that’s the elevation of Mount Vegas to full coven status.’

The room was suddenly silent. Even the clink of cutlery on porcelain stopped. Nick wondered if all breathing stopped too. Rita continued. ‘We all agree, as do the High Council members in Rome, that the time has come for Mount Vegas to take its place as a fully-fledged coven.’

There were cheers and whistles, and Nick nearly pulled Elsa out of her chair in his enthusiastic kiss. Then Rita raised a hand for quiet. ‘There is one more thing.’ She moved to kneel in front of Elsa’s chair, taking her hands and looking up into her eyes. ‘And this is not so much an initiation as it is a moving forward, an opportunity to heal old wounds and a favour for me, Elsa.’

Elsa glanced nervously around the room. ‘Ask me what you want, Rita. I can hardly refuse you.’

‘You can, sweetie. In this case you can. But I’m hoping that you won’t.’

‘Ask me.’ Elsa’s voice was barely more than a whisper. All colour drained from her cheeks.

‘I want you to do an act for me, for us –’ She nodded to the rest of the room. ‘I want you to go into the dungeon, Elsa, and I want you to take Nick as your sub.’

The room was dead silent. Elsa’s pulse jumped against her throat. She pulled her hands away from Rita and, when she spoke, her voice was breathless. ‘You can’t ask this of me, please, Rita, you can’t. You know I can’t do this.’

Before he knew what he was doing, before he could think, Nick slid from the chair and knelt next to Rita, but kept his eyes averted. ‘Then may I ask this of you, Elsa. Will you please do this for me?’

‘Nick, you don’t know what you’re asking, please. You don’t know.’

He pulled her fingers to his lips. ‘I do know what I’m asking, Elsa. I know exactly what I’m asking, and there’s no one else I would ask this of. Please. I’m yours. I want to be yours. I want you to do with me what you will.’ He kissed her knuckles again. ‘I trust you, Elsa Crane. I trust you with all of my heart.’

Chapter Twenty-two

‘What should I do?’ Nick asked. He had joined the Mount contingent in the living area of Elsa’s office where they were all gathered around a cinema-sized screen that had been pulled down from the ceiling. Elsa had insisted that she and Nick not spend the night together before they shared the dungeon. She had kissed him tenderly and told him he would need to be well-rested, that he would need all his strength for what he would face, and so would she. Of course, he hadn’t slept, and he doubted if she had either. But it didn’t matter. He was ready. He would do this for Elsa.

‘Don’t worry, she will tell you exactly what you will do,’ Leo said. He nodded to the screen. ‘She has just finished preparing for you.’

Nick’s stomach somersaulted as he looked at the vacant dungeon, larger than life, on the big screen. It wasn’t the pain he knew he’d endure that frightened him; it was the pain he knew Elsa would have to endure. Hers was pain far beyond the physical that he would bear.

Just then, the door opened and Elsa walked in, as he had never seen her before. She wore low-slung khaki cargo pants with lots of pockets. Nick could tell some of them were heavily weighted with who knew what. The matching tank top didn’t quite meet the waistband of the trousers. She wore no bra and no shoes. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail set high on the back of her head. And Jesus, the woman wore a hunting knife belted around her waist! The skin on his scalp prickled. Her face was porcelain pale, making her eyes seem like blue fire. Everyone stepped back until only Elsa and Nick stood in the centre of the room. She studied him as though she could read him, read all that was inside him, and in that moment, he felt certain she could do just that.

With a short length of rope she unclipped from a belt loop, she bound his hands, wrist over wrist. As she bound him, the look on her face dissolved into distant neutrality that sent gooseflesh cascading down his arms; that compelled him to lower his gaze until his vision took in only her lovely bare feet, which he found himself wanting to kneel and kiss. Once he was bound, she tugged slightly on the lead end of the rope.

‘Nick Chase, you’ll come with me to the dungeon where you’ll submit completely and wholeheartedly to me. You’re not to speak unless spoken to. You’re to do nothing without my permission, without my direction. For the duration of our time there, you belong totally to me. There’ll be no safe word. If I decide you’ve had enough, I’ll stop our session. If you speak when not spoken to, I’ll assume you don’t want to continue, so guard your tongue carefully.’

Then she gave a tug on the rope and turned. He could do nothing but follow her out of the room that Pike had led him to what now seemed like ages ago, to descend the steep stairs.

It took for ever to get there, and yet it took only a second. Nick noticed all this from somewhere outside himself. Once they arrived, Elsa led him to the centre of the dungeon, which had been strangely cleared of equipment. She guided him to stand between two concrete support pillars. There, she curled a finger beneath his chin and lifted it until he met her gaze, no longer distant, no longer neutral, but exacting, demanding, and totally present.

‘I don’t play like the others do, Nick, so forget everything Pike and Beetle taught you, and listen to me. Focus on me. Do as I say, pleasure me, and, if you do it well, I’ll take you with me.’ She removed the bindings from his wrists. ‘Do you understand?’

‘I understand, mistress.’

In a movement that was predator-fast, she grabbed him hard by the hair and pulled his face close. ‘Don’t call me mistress. My name is Elsa, and that’s what I wish to be called by you.’ She bruised his mouth with hers. He struggled to breathe, smothering in arousal nearly too heavy to bear. The weight of it surged through his groin like an explosion, like he’d already come and ripped himself to pieces in so doing. Then Elsa pulled away, still holding him in her gaze. ‘I’m going to empty you, Nick Chase.’ She gave his cock a hard grope through his trousers. ‘I don’t mean just the emptying of your balls; I mean the emptying of all you are. And then I’m going to take up all the space that you have, Nick; I’m going to turn you inside out and invade every cell of your body. I’m going to be the demon that possesses your soul, the tiger that devours you whole. That’s what I’ll do to you,’ she whispered against his ear. ‘And in the end, you’ll give it all to me willingly, happily.’

Her words made a serpentine path into his brain, into his heart, and coiled there, so close to his centre. And God, he wanted what she wanted. More than anything, he wanted what she wanted, even as his inside turned cold with fear. He was nearly convinced that she’d already totally possessed him; that she’d already taken up residence in his emptiness when she pulled away, leaving him desolate. But surely that was just an illusion.

She selected two hanks of rope from where they hung on the wall and bound his arms outstretched – one with each hank – to metal rungs on the columns, so that each wrist trailed a long ribbon of rope which coiled to the floor. He shivered. Was she trying to recreate with him what she’d done with her husband all those years ago? Dear God, what had he got himself into? But before his imagination had time to run wild, Elsa stood to face him.

‘I almost forgot. I need you naked.’ She undid his jeans and, as she slid them and the boxers down, his cock sprang free. She smiled down at it. ‘Always at the ready, Mr Chase. I like that about you.’ Then the smile was gone, and she shimmied his jeans down and off over his feet, which were still not bound. ‘As for the T-shirt –’ she unsnapped the holstered hunting knife with its wicked blade and Nick held his breath ‘– afraid thoughts of your nasty cock made me forget all about the T-shirt. Never mind.’ She moved behind him and grabbed it by the tail, lingering to caress his bare arse. ‘I’ll buy you another one.’ Then, with a single brisk move, she slit the shirt completely open. He sucked breath between his teeth at the feel of cool metal as the unsharpened side of the knife skimmed up his spine. Then she did the same to the front, so the shirt hung halved against his raised shoulders. She left the halves where they hung.

‘Your cock enjoyed that, I can tell,’ she said, cupping his balls and stroking the length of him with one hand, while the other expertly sheathed the knife. ‘You like being a little bit nervous, don’t you, Nick – a little bit out of control.’

With her knee, she forced his legs apart until his feet rested against the two pillars and he stood spread-eagle. ‘What I want to know, Nick, is just how much control you’re willing to give over to me before you get too nervous, too scared, before it hurts too much. Will you let me take you to the place I have in mind? Will you be able to?’

She was just talking, Nick told himself. Sometimes the threat of something was much worse than what was being threatened, and the waiting was the hardest. Still, his pulse kicked up a notch.

Elsa moved back behind him and began to braid the two ropes down his spine in a plait of square knots. As her hands efficiently worked the rope, she stepped in close and whispered against his ear. ‘You asked me once if I would hurt you, Nick Chase …’

She paused to run her tongue over the spiral of his ear, then down his neck, the humidity of her breath sending warm shivers over his belly to his cock. ‘The answer is yes. I will hurt you.’ Just as she said it, just as his pulse ratcheted up another notch, she tied a thick pebble of a knot and nested it tight against his anus. But before he could be fully surprised by it, she ducked under his raised arm, slid the trailing ropes up between his spread legs, and moved to stand in front of him. Then she pulled the ropes up tight to separate his arse cheeks before she crafted a cock ring of rope that settled uncomfortably close and pressed his balls upward into a heavy bulge. He bit back a curse as she guided each rope back through rings that studded the length of the posts – first at waist level, then she weaved them like a spider’s web, zigzagging down each side and over and around his thighs and calves before she bound them off around each ankle. And suddenly Nick couldn’t breathe.

She stood and studied him, then she lifted his head, forcing him to hold her gaze. ‘Do you want me to stop?’

He shook his head.

‘Then you have to relax. You have to trust me. You have to trust that I can take you where I want you to be.’ She kissed him. This time gently, and his breath slowed at the touch of her, at the taste of her. ‘Shall I continue?’ she asked when she pulled away, still cupping his cheek.

He nodded.

‘Good.’ She selected a heavy leather crop from the implements displayed on the wall and ran it across her open palm. Nick pulled a deep breath and braced himself. ‘You know what I’m going to do, Nick. You don’t yet know why, but trust me, it’ll be worth the pain.’ The words were barely out of her mouth before she brought the crop down with a sharp snap against the top of his bare thighs in quick succession and frighteningly close to his erection.

The sting of it made his eyes water and caused the muscles of his shoulders to rise and knot. He forced himself to breathe through it.

‘It hurts, Nick,’ she said, cupping his bound balls, then bending to kiss his cock on the tip, which was already pearled with precome. ‘And it’ll hurt worse before I’m done. Much worse.’ Then she stood and kissed him hard, her tongue dancing joyously against his, and he knew the joy of it. He felt it through his whole body, felt it through the pain of his thighs and the ache in his muscles, just as she brought the crop down hard on his left arse cheek. He hissed the pain into her mouth and she swallowed it back. Then she stepped away and trailed the crop up over his balls, over his belly, bringing the tip of it to a sharp, quick snap against each of his nipples, which were already painfully hard. Then she kissed him again.

‘Oh Christ, Elsa!’

She swallowed his words and stepped back. ‘Shall I stop?’

He shook his head.

‘Then be quiet.’ She pinched his nipples until her image became a distorted blur through his streaming eyes, and then she stepped behind him. The sting of the first few lashes felt like fire across his bare arse. She crowded in until he could feel her still-clothed breasts pressed against his back, and then she gave his balls a cupping. ‘Though I’m sure you’ve already figured it out, I’ll remind you that you’re not to come until I give you permission, or the punishment won’t bear thinking about.’ She kneaded and stroked. ‘I can already feel how full you are. How badly you need relief. You see, Nick, sometimes pain isn’t all that far removed from pleasure.’

She laid a crisscross of stripes over his cheeks, stopping to caress and kiss, making him wait in terrible anticipation, as she examined her work, traced the welts with her fingers, kneaded his buttocks, squeezed them together to press against the knot that dug at his anus, an act that made his breath catch and his cock surge, an act that forced him into shallow breathing and futile attempts to relax.

‘And now, Nick, I need to come.’ She moved back in front of him, and while he watched, she slid out of the cargo pants and kicked them to one side, but she left the sheathed knife belted at her waist. When his cock stretched toward her and his hips thrust forward as much as they could under the circumstances, she gave him a careless stroke. ‘Not on your cock, not just yet. I want you to lick my pussy.’

Before Nick had time to wonder how the hell he could manage that, she stepped up onto a kneeling bench that looked as though it might have been pulled straight from an old church, gave a leap, and heaved herself up to grab a metal bar riveted to the ceiling. From there, shoulders mounded, biceps bunched, with the grace of a gymnast, she settled her legs around his neck and shifted and moved until her pussy was so close that the scent of her alone was nearly enough to make him come, and he was breathing shallowly to hold his wad. ‘Lick my pussy, Nick. I’m all wet and swollen from playing with you, so lick my pussy, and make me come.’

He strained his shoulders against the rope to nose-dive into her wet depths. Her clit was diamond hard and he’d never seen her so heavy. There was a brief second of satisfaction in knowing that he was turning her on as much as she was him. Then he drew his tongue up through the pout of her, tasting her dark sweetness. He found himself wondering how the hell he could keep from shooting his wad with her literally up in his face.

She hadn’t asked him to make it last, and in truth she couldn’t manoeuvre much more than he could, hanging from the ceiling as she was, so he gave two long licks from her tight little arsehole all the way up her slit, lingering to slurp and nibble her labia, before he nipped her clit hard, and she came, practically smothering him in the reflexive grip of well-muscled thighs. And then he was shallow breathing again.

‘Oh Nick Chase, you’re a very naughty boy,’ she said when she caught her breath. She dropped back onto the ground and stripped off the tank top and the belt so she stood as naked as he was. ‘You hurried through my orgasm, didn’t you? Because you didn’t know if you could hold your load. That’s cheating.’ She leant in and kissed his face, wet with her juices. ‘Two things. First, I can come as often as I want with or without your contribution, and second, since you were a naughty boy, I can make you watch as a part of your punishment for cheating.’

With that, she pulled a small table and a chair in front of him. Then she opened a black leather case onto the table. There in its velvet-lined interior was a large selection of dildos, butt-plugs, and anal beads. She laid the crop next to the case and selected a dildo that was about the size of Nick’s cock. It looked as though it might be made of lapis lazuli. Then she settled into the chair and opened her legs wide. ‘And now, Nick, my pleasure will be your punishment.’ She fellated the dildo until Nick moaned, then teased it up into her grudging pussy only a little, before she pulled it out and rubbed it up, over, and around her clit. Then she pushed it back in a little farther. She repeated the process with infinite patience as though Nick weren’t even there, as though his cock weren’t stretching out to her in desperate empathy with the dildo. He watched breathless, mesmerized, aching. It felt like for ever, and yet it felt like a heartbeat before she finally began to thrust and squirm and ride the stone shaft, pinching first her nipples, then her clit.

Nick couldn’t breathe. He didn’t dare breathe. His load pressed hard at the boundary of his endurance. One breath and he knew he would come. He held it, held it tight.

‘Don’t you dare close your eyes, Nick. You look at me while I come,’ Elsa ordered. And she did. She came, she gushed, she nearly bounced off the chair, and her juices flooded the seat. And Christ, Nick held his breath, Nick held everything. And just when the wave passed, just when he was about to congratulate himself for surviving her orgasm, quick as a cat, she grabbed the crop and brought it up with a sharp snap against his balls from underneath, and he howled with the sting of it. ‘My pleasure, your pain, Nick.’

She selected another dildo, shoved it home. Once it was liberally coated with her juices, she shifted until Nick could see her anus, and she began to worry the tight O of it with the dildo. ‘My pleasure, your pain’ she grunted, biting her lip, ‘And I promise when we’re finished here you won’t know the difference, nor will you care.’ She gave his balls two more sharp upward smacks, and then, as she pushed the dildo home in her anus, she selected another to fill her pussy. This time when she came, she roared like a lioness and nearly fell off the chair, flicking Nick’s upper thighs lightning fast with the crop. He clenched and held his breath and swore in his head.

For a split second, he closed his eyes, and when he opened them, she sat studying him. She studied him until the discomfort he felt spread upward from his heavy balls to the clutching pit of his stomach. Then she inhaled deeply as though she’d just stepped out into the fresh air. From the case, she selected a string of anal beads that matched the lapis dildo. The string began with a bead slightly larger than a pearl and graduated to one slightly smaller than a ping pong ball. She ran them across her palm, her eyes locked on his. Then, one by one, she inserted them into her mouth, before pulling them out again. Nick gulped a breath, feeling the tension move upward from his belly to clench at his chest.

It was only as she stood and moved behind him that he realised what was about to happen. As she worried the knot of rope aside to reveal his anus, for a brief second he was certain he would pass out. There was no getting his head around what she was about to do, no holding back the blush that was way more than embarrassment, the blush that was humiliation and fear as her hands competently separated his burning arse cheeks. He heard the squirt of lube, felt first her cool, slick finger and then the smallest of the beads breached his sphincter. He didn’t cry out, he didn’t tense, he didn’t move at all, as slowly, teasingly, she inserted bead after bead, pausing in between to kiss his wounded arse cheeks, his stinging balls, the tip of his straining cock.

Christ, how could such tenderness be so closely entwined with his humiliation? Fuck if he didn’t feel like a little kid about to cry. But he held it, feeling himself stretched and breached and pushed, yielding to each bead until at last Elsa leant forward, kissed the clench of his anus, and returned the knot of rope to its place.

‘There, all done. And now, where were we? Oh yes, I was about to come again, wasn’t I?

And fuck if she didn’t! She began by smacking her clit with the crop while he clenched in empathy, then she squatted deep and open over the kneeling bench and gushed her juices as she convulsed in a fierce, backbreaking orgasm.

‘Oh, that was a good one, Nick. I get so turned on thinking about those beads stimulating you up inside your asshole while I play with myself. It’s exquisite, isn’t it?’

This time she used the crop first on his balls and then brought it down with a hard snap against his perineum. He clenched with all his might, the beads shuddering and massaging inside him. He swallowed his frustration, his desperate need, as her lashes with the crop became random, first to his thighs, then his arse, then his nipples then his balls, and then he lost track. All he could do was clench and hold and breathe when he could remember to breathe. And still the crop moved over him in a dance of pain that at some point was joined by the slide of her tongue and the press of her lips and the breeze of her breath. He felt his own need like fire in his balls, spreading upward to consume him, to swallow him whole until he was gone, Nick Chase was gone, and that he had ever existed at all seemed like a dream. The only thing that existed, the only thing that was real was Elsa Crane, controlling the world, his world. And yet he held on. He held on for her, the woman who, at this moment, he hated, the woman who he loved enough to endure this moment for and more. And he knew that he would endure whatever it took to convince her to let him into her life.

At last, she brought the crop up with a light sting against his perineum, then, with a movement that was as graceful as it was dangerous, she reached behind him and gave the string attached to the beads a hard yank. Nick’s cry roared through the dungeon like something physical just before he bit it back hard and lapsed into desperate, shallow gasps for breath. Elsa slung the beads across the dungeon with a yell that sent chills up his spine, her breath sounding like a windstorm raging through her chest.

‘I told you I would hurt you, Nick,’ she gasped. Droplets of sweat glistened between her breasts. Tendrils of auburn hair curled damp around her face, escaped from the ponytail, and her eyes held him in blue heat. And Jesus, she looked like a goddess; in spite of everything she’d done to him, she looked like heaven itself. ‘I told you I would hurt you,’ she repeated, her voice barely more than a whisper. ‘How much more pain will you take?’

‘As much as I have to,’ he managed between gulps for air. ‘I told you, I trust you to take me there.’

The sob that escaped her throat was wild-animal harsh. She dropped to her knees in front of him and pulled him against her, hands cupping his wounded arse, face nestled against his damp pubic curls. Then she took him in her mouth and began to suck, her tongue snaking up the underside of his penis, and he cried out and held on tight. When she pulled away, she grabbed the knife from its sheath and, in a mad flurry, sliced up through the webbing of rope in a rapid series of moves that caused him to fall forward when the bonds at his wrists were cut, caused him to fall forward into her arms. She shoved off the last of the rope along with his ruined T-shirt and helped him to the bondage bed. She must have seen the look of dread on his face because she kissed him and offered a laugh that was more like a sob.

‘It’s over, Nick. You’ve had enough.’ She settled back onto the bed and gently guided him between her legs. ‘You need to come now, and I want to make you feel good, so good.’

He literally fell into her. There was no finesse, just raw, jagged need that tore at him from someplace way deeper than his wounded balls, and Elsa Crane felt like home, warm and wet and waiting for him. Every part of him hurt, and yet somehow he had moved beyond it to a place where everything seemed clearer, brighter, and Elsa was there for him, like she had never been before. Her body grounded him, held him, sustained him, and he came in gut-wrenching waves, convulsing in sobs as she returned the favour. Then she reached for the red silk sheet and pulled it over them before he lost consciousness.

When he woke, she cradled his head and held a bottle of cold water to his parched lips. And when he’d drunk his fill, she wrapped him in a soft robe and led him up the stairs to a shower, where she bathed him carefully and lovingly. And though he was exhausted, the need for her still overrode even that, and he took her there against the tiles, spilling into her mindlessly with very little foreplay. Then she dried him and helped him into a bed in the adjoining room, where she gently lotioned his sore arse and all the other bits of him that hurt.

There was a soft knock at the door and someone handed in a breakfast tray, which she set for him. He ate ravenously and she watched, all the while saying nothing. As it had been when they were Leo’s pets, there seemed to be little need for words and that surprised him. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked, when he had eaten and pushed the tray away.

‘I’ve never experienced that level of intimacy.’ He struggled to find words. ‘The physical pain – well, that was just a part of what happened. The experience was so far beyond that.’ He looked up into her eyes and found himself blushing. ‘I didn’t expect that.’

Her eyes misted and she smoothed his hair with a fingertip. ‘That’s why I’ve never wanted to return to the dungeon after that first time. Ultimately, that’s why Edgar didn’t pursue me, why he left everything to me. I didn’t know that at the time. I thought it was The Mount making him an offer he couldn’t refuse. I didn’t know otherwise until last night. Pike told me.’

‘I don’t understand,’ Nick said.

‘Yes you do, Nick. What happens in the dungeon, for me, is too intimate to share with anyone else. I’m not a good sub because I can’t communicate sexually from that position, and there’s never been anyone I trusted enough to allow them to be my sub because it lays us both bare, and I just couldn’t.’ She looked down at her hands, fisted in the bedding. ‘And then you came along, and I wanted you to understand. I needed you to understand.’

He pulled her into his arms and held her. ‘Elsa, I don’t want to lose you, and I don’t want to scare you away, but you have to know that I love you, and that I’ll take the pain you offer me and give it back to you the way you need it to be. You have to understand that.’

She raised her lips to his. ‘Then I will hurt you, Nick, and I’ll try very hard to show you how much I love you back, if you’ll let me.’

Chapter Twenty-three

Nick couldn’t make out where the rooftop garden in which they were all celebrating was. He’d been blindfolded when he’d been brought there. When he asked Elsa why, she said that blindfolds were sexy and he was, after all, still learning the ropes, even if he was no longer fulfilling Tanya’s contract. Besides, she said, every voyeur likes blindfold scenes and initiations. What they were doing tonight was a bit of both, and it would be very well watched. Wherever he was, the night sky was clear and bright above them and the lights of Vegas twinkled like jewels below. Elsa told him that when a Mount coven convened, the place often felt as though it were somehow outside of time and space. Perhaps that was thanks to all of the sexual energy. He couldn’t imagine there being a place that would have more sexual energy than a meeting of the Mount Vegas team.

When the blindfold was removed, he had eyes only for the woman in front of whom he knelt naked. Though his tender bits were well on the mend and the altered state he’d felt in the dungeon was long gone, Elsa Crane still looked like a goddess to him, standing over him in a midnight blue robe. She smiled down at him and offered him her hand. ‘Nicolas Crane Chase, I welcome you into our family, now your family. I welcome you into Mount Vegas, now your home. I welcome you into The Mount, now your people. Arise and take your rightful place.’

As he rose, Pike and Beetle came forward and helped him into a robe that matched Elsa’s, and Elsa Continued. ‘I claim you, Nicolas Crane Chase, I claim you as our own. I claim you for this coven. I claim you for our joys, for our sorrows; I claim you for our celebrations, for our desolations; I claim you for our work and for our play. I claim you to be one of us, to be one with us on this journey.’

She took him into her arms and held him, and he returned the favour as the rest of the Mount Vegas Coven – and now it truly was a coven – gathered around to welcome their newest member.

Rita, Edward, and Leo had stayed on for the initiation, but the experience was being watched worldwide. Rita’s mother, Coraline Martelli, along with the Roman Coven’s High Council, watched from Rome. Also watching were representatives from the High Councils of the New York City Coven, the Paris Coven, the Buenos Aires Coven, and the Houston Coven. They had watched the raising of Mount Vegas to full coven status and the embracing of their newest member, and they now celebrated Mount Vegas’ achievements vicariously from afar.

And there was a lot to celebrate. Tanya was now back in the welcoming arms of her coven family as a hero. Thanks to her and Elsa’s efforts, Victor Havers and his gang of corrupt cops were jailed with the promise of very long prison sentences. Because of their efforts, Mount Vegas’s position in that grey area of Vegas life was stronger than ever. In fact they were even safer and more secure under the subtle but powerful protection of The Mount. Nick was still trying to get his head around how powerful the organisation really was. But those thoughts couldn’t hold his attention for long, not when Elsa stood there at his side, her fingers laced through his.

A smile flicked across her lips. ‘Nick, you’re looking at me like I’m the feast.’

‘I am very hungry,’ he said. ‘Ravenous in fact.’

She gave his ear a little nibble. ‘I promise I’ll do my best to satisfy that hunger –’ she pulled away and held his gaze with eyes suddenly serious ‘– and I won’t ever let you go away hungry.’

For a moment they stood wrapped in each other’s arms taking in the celebration going on around them. The night was warm and crystal clear and the sounds of the city below, waking to its nightly prowling, were strangely comforting in ways Nick had never noticed before. Kandi’s laugh rang bell-like through the air as Horse lifted her off the ground in a bear hug. Beetle sat next to Leo talking quietly. Tanya and Edward swayed in a tango that looked as though it could devolve into something more primal at any moment and Rita and Deb, Pagan and Pike had shed clothing and were chatting in the hot tub, champagne flutes in hand. From somewhere below, the sound of a jazz saxophone wafted in the still summer air. In the distance Nick could just make out the hulk of the mountains on the horizon. He pulled Elsa into a long, lazy kiss and, for the first time in his life, Nick Chase felt like he’d truly come home.

To Rome With Lust

Chapter One

Liza thought she had only dreamed such an exquisite scent. She’d certainly never smelled anything so sexy while she was awake. It was all very strange. Her dreams had always been the only part of her life that was olfactory-free. She sat in the business lounge at JFK airport dozing, blocking out the noise and the smell of the busy shuffle. But this smell was different. This smell was just too delicious to ignore. It intensified, then faded, and she snuffled and inhaled and shifted in her seat.

Delays due to heavy thunderstorms meant the place was packed with passengers awaiting a spate of flights going out at nearly the same time. Luckily, her flight wasn’t delayed. She was just there early, thanks to Carl. After an unplanned night alone in a hotel room, she couldn’t get out of New York City fast enough – not after what she’d seen … and smelled. But she didn’t want to think about Carl. Time to move forward.

She had just slipped back into that space between wakefulness and sleep when the scent wafted over her again. There was no denying it was the primal smell of male. It was the smell of desert lightning, of sage and juniper and thick, dark night. It was the smell of sex – or at least the intimations of sex or what sex might be like with a man who smelled so irresistible.

Jesus, was she really going to have sexy dreams right here in the airport? What next? Would she be rubbing herself against the sofa while all the businessmen and the tourists pretended not to notice? Surely it was only because of the sex she’d expected to get last night, but didn’t. Surely it was just her angry unconscious inventing an olfactory fantasy, but God, the man smelled good – better than anyone she’d ever smelled, and she smelled everyone! She inhaled again and her deep intake of scent came out sounding like a sigh. Her lips parted just enough to take in the fullness of the experience. She could almost taste that hypnotic smell of masculinity. Her nipples chafed against her bra until they dominated the front of her sweater with an achy tetchy fullness that matched the tightening she felt between her thighs. It was as though the man stood right over her. She could smell expensive fabric weighted and warmed with the heat of his flesh. His crotch, where the delicious scent was purest, was so close that her mouth watered. The scent was heavy, thickening, male – driven by passion. Letting the dream take control, Liza shifted, uncrossed her legs, and leaned forward to draw in his scent, wanting nothing so much as to touch, to caress, to experiment on ways to arouse from her dream man more of that delicious scent.

There was a soft grunt, a startled gasp, and a large hand came down heavily on her shoulder. There was a desperate clearing of a throat and a slightly accented ‘Pardon me.’

She opened her eyes and found herself nose to crotch with a very expensive suit not quite able to disguise a very nice package. Her fingers were fisted in the edges of the front trouser pockets, reeling their wearer ever closer and closer to her salivating mouth. She yelped and practically shoved the guy, who might have fallen if not for the hand resting on her shoulder. ‘Oh my God! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,’ she gasped. ‘I was dreaming.’ Her face burned and her pulse did a drumroll in her ears as she raised her eyes up and up and up the length of the well filled-out charcoal suit to meet rich caramel eyes looking down at her from beneath thick midnight lashes. The scent hit her in waves, making her giddy, making her want to sniff like a dog in heat, making her feel wrong-footed and out of focus.

‘Must have been some dream.’ His eyes sparkled and he offered her a half-smile. His warm hands fell to cover hers and disengage them from his pockets. ‘I can’t tell you how sorry I am that I woke you, but I’d really hate it if your dream got us both kicked out of the lounge.’ His thumbs brushed over the backs of her knuckles before he released her. ‘Is it all right if I share you sofa? The lounge is really crowded.’

‘Yes! Of course, please.’ She shifted and rearranged herself, resisting the urge to fold her arms across her perky nipples. It was even harder to resist the urge to pant and sniff. My God, if an aphrodisiac could be inhaled, his scent would so be that aphrodisiac. She felt moist and swollen, splayed in the crotch of her panties, too tender for the weight of her body against the sofa.

‘Are you all right?’ The man’s eyes had darkened with concern. ‘You seem in distress.’

‘Fine! I’m fine,’ she said with enthusiasm that made her sound like a dork. ‘Just outrageously embarrassed.’

‘Don’t be. You made my morning and gave me something I’ll smile about for what’ll be a very long, very tedious flight. You sure you’re all right?’

‘You smell amazing,’ she blurted out before she could stop herself, then she felt the flash-fire burn rise to her cheeks again. Jeez! Could she sound any more stupid?

He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head. ‘Thanks. Eau d’generic hotel soap,’ he said.

‘No, it’s not the soap, I mean I can smell that too, but …’ What the fuck was it with her? She practically attacks the guy – who handled an embarrassing situation very graciously all things considered – and now she informs him she’s been sniffing? ‘Never mind. I … like I said, I was dreaming.’

He leaned forward in a wave of scent that made her dizzy with lust. ‘No, please, don’t be embarrassed. I’m very interested in all things olfactory. And I’m really flattered that you like the way I smell.’

‘I’m sorry. I have a sensitive nose.’ She forced a laugh. ‘I guess maybe I’m a little closer to my animal roots than most people. I … I pick up on scent … way more than most people do. Bit of an evolutionary throw-back, I’m afraid.’

His smile was practically edible. ‘Humans are mammals. Mammals live through their sense of smell. We’ve just gotten lazy and forgotten how to do that. Real scent is hard to come by in a world that’s been deodorized, sanitized, and scrubbed. Apparently you remember.’

Oh, she remembered all right. She remembered so much more than she wished she did at times. She could feel his dark, rich gaze against her, feel his scent bearing down on her, now spiked with the cinnamon nip of curiosity. She knew what was coming. She waited for it.

‘So,’ he leaned still closer and everything in her felt giddy and humid. ‘Tell me what you smell?’

God, she knew he was going to ask that. She should have kept her damned mouth shut. To ask her to describe his scent was like asking her to describe what she thought sex with him would be like, and with a scent like his, she could imagine it would be pretty fucking amazing. On the other hand, if he stayed leaning close like this, she’d have a few more seconds to sniff and enjoy before he suspected her of total nutterdom.

‘Don’t be embarrassed. As I said, the sense of smell and the way we humans use it is of special interest to me.’

She leaned in and inhaled deeply through her nose. After all he had given her permission to sniff. ‘You smell like summer lightning … at high altitude.’ She inhaled again and closed her eyes, hearing the catch of his breath. ‘Beneath that, you smell like evergreen and the earth around tree roots.’ His breathing accelerated. She leaned still closer, and the slip and slide of fabric on fabric informed her that he’d done the same until they were nearly touching. She inhaled again. ‘You smell like a rainstorm on the wind just before it arrives, but that’s because you’re skeptical, and I don’t blame you.’

For both of them, simply breathing had become a challenge. Her belly muscles trembled and tensed way down low; in her panties, the clench and release, clench and release had left her swollen and pouty. She opened her eyes just a slit, then closed them again, but there was no mistaking the shape of his growing erection. Her own scent spiked all honey-butter and nutmeg.

‘What else?’ he breathed. ‘Is there more?’

‘Your curiosity smells of cinnamon and there’s a bit of irritation – tart, tangy, almost like lemon.’ Her eyes fluttered open at the same moment his did.

‘Oh it’s not you,’ he said quickly. ‘I mean I’m not irritated with you. It’s this trip. I didn’t plan to take it and now I find out … wait a minute. You can smell emotions?’

‘Kind of,’ she said, trying not to look at his erection, as he shifted to rearrange himself a little less conspicuously. Then she couldn’t resist. ‘What about me? Can you smell me?’ Jesus! Why did she ask such a loaded question?

He squirmed again, which did nothing to hide his needy package. A blush rose to his cheeks. ‘Maybe … Possibly.’ He inhaled a shaky breath through his nose like he was afraid of what he might smell. ‘The more we talk … the more I smell.’ His eyes fluttered shut again. ‘You’re … not wearing perfume.’

‘I never do.’ She eased herself closer, resisting the urge to rest a hand on his thigh. ‘It interferes with other smells.’

He nodded, as though he completely understood. ‘You smell like the sea, but you also smell like honey and butter melting over hot bread.’

Did she just whimper? Oh God, please say she didn’t just whimper and shift her bottom against the sofa. Surely she didn’t do that.

This time he inhaled boldly, pushing forward on the sofa, his eyes closed, suddenly making no attempt to cover the heavy strain against the front of his trousers. The cinnamon scent of him spiked and became more peppery. ‘Jesus, I can’t believe we’re doing this.’ His voice was little more than a whisper between parted lips, lips that Liza would only have to lean into to touch with her own. ‘I can’t believe I can smell all that. I’m probably imagining it.’

‘No you’re not. You’re not imagining it,’ she whispered back.

He was suddenly breathing as though he’d just ran a marathon, each breath through his nose, each breath followed by a gulp, almost as though he were eating the scent of her.

‘People are looking. We should stop.’ She barely got the words out before he leaned in just a tiny bit further and, in his enthusiasm, his lips brushed hers. Everything spiked in a sharp stab of scent that went straight to her pussy, as they both gasped and sat back, eyes wide, fingers pressed to lips.

The delayed flight to Paris was called over the intercom immediately after one to Frankfurt and, in the jostling and shifting and gathering of belongings, no one paid any attention to them. She wasn’t sure it would have made any difference even if they’d suddenly been centre stage. Their gaze locked on each other, cheeks flushed, chests heaving, they sat caught in a moment so tight, so full that its breaking apart was inevitable. It was ridiculous. She was seconds away from coming, and his cock was about to burst his trousers. And his lips, God his lips, she could think of so many places on her body she wanted those lips.

‘I have to know,’ he gasped. ‘Surely you want to know too.’ Then he did the unthinkable. He curled his fingers into the back of her hair and pulled her to him. This time their mouths met with a clash and a gasped swallow of oxygen that transitioned into parted lips and darting tongues and an absolute explosion of scent. If he had smelled amazing by himself, if his scent had sharpened hers to the cutting edge of orgasm, then the mixing and blending that happened when they touched, when those two scents came together was shattering. ‘I’ve never smelled anything like it,’ she breathed.

‘Me neither.’ He bit her lower lip and tugged and their blended scent became darker, spicier, with tones of earth and sea, pepper and honey, and God the guy could kiss!

She came first with a guttural grunt of an orgasm that began deep in her pussy and washed over her like a riptide. She tried desperately to hide it, but he knew it. He felt it, she even thought he smelled it, and he tightened his fist in her hair, breathing her into his open mouth. Both his hands then slid to her shoulders in a grip that was almost painful as he pulled back. His eyes locked on hers, and his whole body convulsed, and again, and again, his deep mocha gaze holding her tight as pupils dilated and eyelids shuddered.

For a moment they sat stunned, staring at each other, struggling to catch their breath. He looked shell-shocked, and she must have looked the same. ‘I’m sorry,’ they both said at the same time as they mirrored each other in a nervous laugh.

Then the intercom called the flight to Rome. ‘That’s my flight,’ she gasped, awash in a wave of embarrassment. She babbled something about duty free and gifts, sounding like a total idiot. She grabbed her bag and her laptop and fled, feeling certain everyone was watching, feeling certain everyone knew exactly what they had done. It didn’t matter though, at the end of the day, she’d never see the man again. And she’d never smell him again. That saddened her.

Chapter Two

As Paulo settled into the first class cabin, he looked around, just in case the woman was there. Sadly she wasn’t. As the attendant announced they were waiting for a connecting flight from Atlanta, he did a little investigating and, sure enough, there she was back in coach. She sat on the aisle not far from the bathrooms, checking her BlackBerry. Just seeing her again, even from a distance, got his cock’s full attention. Christ! Had she really made him come, made them both come just by describing the way he smelled, by making him describe the way she smelled? His business was scent. How could he have missed the incredibly rich and outrageously sexy scents right under his nose? Of course he knew the scent of a woman aroused. But he’d only ever experienced that scent up close and personal when he was on top of said woman, fucking her hard, or when his face was buried between her legs. Sadly, these days that didn’t happen very often, in spite of his circumstances. He loved the scent of a woman, he loved the scent of sex, but this woman had taken the olfactory mechanics of attraction, the smell of a couple getting to know each other, to a level far beyond anything he could have imagined.

His pulse rate picked up as he thought of the taste of her mouth. Unconsciously he licked his lips. He couldn’t keep from wondering what the rest of her tasted like; her nipples, pressed against light summer cotton, her armpits with the subtle piquant salt of clean female sweat, and between her legs … his mouth watered, his cock bucked enough to make him shift and tug his jacket down for extra coverage. He could still smell the faint scent of himself even after his efforts to clean up. Fuck! It was embarrassing. He hadn’t lost control like that since he was an adolescent. And yet, losing control with the lovely brunette sniffing him in the business lounge at JFK was like super-heated kink. With the beginnings of a plan forming in his mind, he motioned the attendant to his side for a short consult, then he settled back into his seat and waited for takeoff.

Back in cattle car class, Liza tried not to elbow the rotund man sitting next to her as she checked her messages one last time and cursed the fact that she was too damned stingy to fork out for a business class ticket. High Rising e-magazine was doing well, better than they had ever dreamed when she and Addie began the venture four years ago. Addie reminded her of that each time Liza flew. They could afford it, and Addie would know. She kept a tight fist on the purse strings. Still Liza couldn’t quite bring herself to believe it just yet. Anyway, with luck the window seat would stay empty and the man would move over and give them both breathing space.

There was a message from Addie wishing her bon voyage, and there was another message from Carl. She ignored it. What could he possibly have to say that she’d want to hear, or that she’d believe? She was too preoccupied with thoughts of what had happened in the lounge to think about anything else. Escapism, that’s all it had been, pure and simple escapism, and yet in all of her years of experiencing the world through her nose, she’d never smelled anyone like the man in the lounge. She regretted not asking his name, but after what she’d done, she figured she was lucky he hadn’t called airport security and had her taken away. It had only been the calling of her flight that had saved her bacon. Still, what were the chances of her ever smelling anyone so hot again?

Some things in the world were honest. Some things were always straightforward and reliable. Her sense of smell was one of those things. She should have known in the beginning that Carl wasn’t for her. He just didn’t smell right. Funny how she had never really realized that until what had happened in the airport lounge. When she first started seeing Carl, she’d chalked it all up to some strange allergy she only ever had when she was in New York City. But it wasn’t New York, was it? It had never been New York.

She’d just finished a job in DC when she’d gotten Carl’s invitation to come join him at his flat in Manhattan before she flew to Rome. He gave her the key last time they were together, saying that in the future he hoped to give her something a little less symbolic, and a lot more physical as to where he wanted their relationship to go. Funny he’d thought of it as a relationship. Funny she’d let him. Funny she’d almost let herself believe it, in spite of all of the warning signs that she should have seen months ago. Carl Blain was tall, blond, and well-muscled – and outrageously sexy. He was filthy rich, and unbelievably charming. He had broad shoulders, a great ass, ocean blue eyes. The man was a fucking cliché for one of the plethora of billionaire novels flooding the bookstores at the moment. He had taken over Blain Holdings after his father’s death and had acquitted himself well from what The Wall Street Journal and The New York Times reported ad nauseum. He was the rather ruthless darling of the business world and everything he touched turned to gold. Six months ago he had allowed her to follow him around for a week on a story for High Rising. Almost from the first time they met, he’d asked her out, but she refused to date anyone she was working with. The minute the story was published, he asked her out again, and he hadn’t taken no for an answer.

It was then she started taking the allergy medicine. It wasn’t that Carl Blain stank. Of course he didn’t. He smelled very sexy by the standards of the average female nose. God knew Liza had smelled a few men whose natural scent did everything but set off her gag reflex. Carl Blaine wasn’t one of those men. Carl Blaine didn’t smell bad to her. Carl Blaine simply made her sneeze. Repeatedly. She wrote it all off as something in the city, after all, New York wasn’t the cleanest place on the planet. It probably had its unique pollens and leaf molds like every place did, and then there was the pollution. Surely there was just something in the air that made her sneeze. It was the simple matter of popping a few allergy tablets whenever she headed up to New York to spend time with Carl. And frankly, the temporary dulling of her overwhelming sense of smell was a welcome relief in small doses.

In truth, their long-distance relationship had suited her just fine. And really, how could she blame him for fucking someone else when she had managed to put him off repeatedly. It wasn’t that she didn’t want sex. She longed for sex, she ached for it, so badly, in fact, that she considered herself a serial masturbater. And as much as she’d hoped that the allergy medication would allow her to enjoy sex with Carl, she just couldn’t get past the discomfort. Sex was supposed to be fun, right? Yet her nose wouldn’t quite let her forget that Carl, for all of his sex appeal to every other female on the planet, just didn’t smell like someone she wanted to fuck. Damn it, she had tried. She really had. Carl was great arm candy, and Addie had told her that her semi-regular trips to New York could almost pass as the social life she didn’t have time for. Besides, from the strictly mercenary point of view, getting an exclusive on Carl Blain and Blain Holdings for High Rising hadn’t done the magazine any harm either. As for the sex, well there hadn’t been any. And even though Carl had handled her excuse of getting to know each other before they got intimate well in the beginning, it was clear the last time they were together that the man wasn’t up for much more abstinence. It hadn’t been a great ending to a date. She had practically pushed him off the sofa after he’d all but climbed on top of her mid-kiss. She thought it was over when he’d finally settled back in the chair across from her, cursing roughly under his breath, his cock dangerously straining the seam of his designer trousers. Instead he gave her the key to his flat with the not so subtle hint that he expected them to share his bed in said flat the next time she was in New York, and she had resigned herself to the fact that she could put him off no longer. It wasn’t supposed to be like that, was it?

She wouldn’t have known the half of what Carl got up to if she hadn’t run out of allergy tablets and not realized it until she got off the plane at JFK. She figured she could get by without them until morning, surely. In her excitement to see him before she headed overseas, she’d managed a seat on an earlier flight. She’d never been to his apartment before, and she thought to surprise him by being naked in his bed when he got home. She was the one who got the surprise.

She could smell sex almost the moment she got out of the elevator at Carl’s building. But then she had always been able to smell where sex had recently happened as easily as she could smell desire on people. She’d learned to block most of those powerful scents from her mind otherwise she would never have been able to go outside her room. The closer she got to Carl’s door, the stronger the smell became. She pulled out her BlackBerry and checked to make sure she had the right address. His flat was at the end of a long corridor. By the time she got there, it was obvious the scent could be coming from no place else. She stifled a sneeze, then another one. For a long moment, she stood unmoving in front of the door, key poised in her sweaty, outstretched hand. She sneezed again and the scent rammed its way into her sinus cavity. Her pulse hammered in her ears. She fought back the urge to run. Surely she was just tired. Surely she was imagining things. Maybe one of Car’s neighbours had gotten kinky and had sex in the hallway. Maybe the mail man or a delivery man had done the dirty out here with a satisfied customer.

Liza knew the smell of Carl after he masturbated. She had never told him. It excited her that she knew that little secret about him. One of the fantasies she’d had when they were together was watching him masturbate. In fact that fantasy had been more of a turn-on to her than the actual thought of sex with him. But this smell was different.

She stood in front of the door with every excuse she could think of running through her head. Her rational self, the part that listened to her olfactory Spidey senses, knew what was going on, knew that she should walk away. But the wishy-washy, overly polite part of her just couldn’t bear leaving and not letting him know why, and besides, maybe she was wrong. Hopefully she was wrong.

Boldly, she stepped forward and shoved the key home. As the door opened to a flat filled with clean lines and ultra modern chrome and leather furnishings, all the clean house smells were instantly overwhelmed by the hot, wet smell of messy sex. She reeled as though she had been slapped. She was halfway down the hall before she could hear the grunts and moans over her heart pounding in her ears, and when she turned the corner into the kitchen, she got the total sensory overload. A woman with big blonde hair lay back on the marble counter-top, exposed fake tits not bouncing, black dress shoved over her hips, her expensively stilettoed feet resting on Carl’s shoulders. Carl was humping and shoving and straining between her spread thighs, bare ass cheeks clenching and relaxing in the hypnotic push and shove of each thrust. ‘You like that don’t you, baby,’ he said. ‘You like my cock in your tight little cunt.’

For a moment, Liza stood lightheaded and nauseated from the thick olfactory fog that coated her like oil. She was just going to turn and leave. Even then she didn’t want to be a bother. She was just going to walk out and politely break it off in a text. But then, she sneezed and she sneezed again, and again.

‘What the –’ It was definitely coitus interruptus as Carl pulled out, and the blonde slid from the countertop, nearly falling off her stilettos before she caught herself and stood tugging at her skirt.

‘Jesus, Liza. What are you doing here?’ He struggled to tuck his cock, which now pointed accusingly at her.

‘I took an earlier flight,’ ah-choo, ah-choo, ah-choo. ‘Sorry for –’ ah-choo, ah-choo ‘– interrupting.’ She made her way to the door in a storm of violent sneezes with him calling after her, cursing in his efforts to cover himself.

Over her sneezes, Liza could hear the woman’s shrill voice. ‘Carl? Who is that? Carl? Who is she?’

She was safely tucked in the cab halfway to JFK before she stopped sneezing. It was then that she realized the big reveal wasn’t so much that Carl was having sex with someone. If she’d listened to her nose, she would have known that before she ever walked through the door. The big reveal was that, even in the immaculate, dripping-money apartment, she could smell at least four other women who had recently made their contribution to the olfactory soup that was Carl’s place. She strongly suspected that this particular flat was Carl’s fuck pad, not his home.

That he’d led her to believe their relationship was exclusive was what really pissed her off. That he’d put just enough pressure on her to make her consider that he might be a good choice for a life partner pissed her off even more. Neither of them were getting any younger, he had said, and neither of them really had time to look. Whether he was looking or not, he certainly had no problems finding a fuck when he wanted one.

‘A wake-up call,’ she said out loud. ‘That’s what it was, a wake-up call.’ Just then a flight attendant approached the man sitting next to her and pointed out an empty aisle seat several rows back. He excused himself and gathered his belongings as she shuffled into the aisle to let him out. She settled back in with a smile. Not exactly first class, but three seats to herself was the next best thing.

As the attendant announced that all electronic devices should be switched off, she shoved her BlackBerry back in her bag, still wishing she had gotten the name of the man in the lounge. No doubt she’d be masturbating to thoughts of him for ages to come. In fact it was a long flight to Rome, and she was pretty damned good at stealth orgasms, and now she had the space to indulge in comfort. As the plane left the ground, she was amazed that she felt no more than she did about what Carl had done. Was there really so little between them that she could so easily shove thoughts of him out of her head for someone who smelled better, for someone who smelled divine, actually, for someone who didn’t make her sneeze?

Chapter Three

It wasn’t that Paulo didn’t have work to do. He never slept on planes. For him long flights always meant much-needed extra office hours, but he couldn’t get the woman with the very talented nose off his mind. He knew that scent sometimes lingered long after what had left it was gone, and he wasn’t sure if he could still smell the faintest traces of the woman or if he only wished he could. Why the fuck had he let her leave without getting her name? Everyone else around him slept. The plane was dark and quiet. When Paulo had convinced the attendant to offer the fat man crammed in next to his mystery woman a better seat – one farther away from her – he wasn’t completely sure what his plan was, but as the flight wore on and it became more and more evident that he wasn’t going to get any work done while thinking about her, he got up and eased his way down the aisle, past the curtain, and into the coach cabin.

Almost everyone was asleep or engrossed in a film with their headphones on. No one noticed as he padded down the aisle. She was toward the back several rows in front of the restrooms and the galley. It was with a sudden spike of his pulse that he saw her. She dozed against the window with an airline blanket draped across her lap, her thick, dark hair hanging loose around her shoulders. Yes, he could smell her. He was almost certain of it now. There was still a hint of the sea about her with a base note of honey and butter. He stood watching her, letting her scent wash over him, wondering how he could ever miss something so obvious. It was like seeing a different facet of the woman who was already beautiful with her dangerous curves, ripe cherry lips, and china blue eyes. Add to that her luscious scent, and she was too tempting to resist.

As he watched, she opened those china-blues, sniffed, blinked, and sniffed again. Then she turned in her seat and looked up at him. ‘I thought I smelled you,’ she said. Her smile was sleepy and warm as she patted the seat next to her. ‘I didn’t know you were going to Rome.’

As Paulo slipped in, her lids fluttered and she moaned as she inhaled his scent. She had already lifted all the armrests to form a love seat of sorts, and he moved right on over next to her. He wasn’t sure exactly what he planned to do, but now that she’d invited him, it definitely involved letting their scents collide. His cock hardened at the thought. All around the coach cabin shades were pulled down. People slept curled and corkscrewed in whatever position the minimal space allowed them. It was an ideal situation. He sniffed, then he inhaled deeply, locking onto her essence. He wasn’t as good at picking up scent as she was. But her scent he was sure of. Strange, but before he met her, he thought himself gifted in the olfactory department. As he settled next to her, he resisted the urge to bury his face in her lap and sniff. He wondered if she had tried to clean herself as he had, or if she had left that mouthwatering scent between her legs, slickening her panties, rubbing against her. Perhaps she’d even taken advantage of the long, boring flight to pleasure herself. That thought took his breath away and made his cock jerk in his trousers.

‘Thought you might like some company,’ he managed. ‘I know I would.’

He barely finished his sentence when she pulled him under the blanket, giving him no time to speak before she kissed him. Her tongue lapped at his bottom lip before inviting itself right on into his mouth like it belonged there. ‘Oh, God,’ she groaned, ‘you smell so good.’

‘Tell me what you smell?’ he whispered, ‘Tell me.’

‘Lose the jacket,’ she demanded. ‘I need to smell more.’

With an awkward move that nearly knocked her off the seat, he shrugged his shoulders. She shoved and tugged until the jacket dropped onto the floor. She surprised him by sliding her face into his ticklish armpit and breathing him in as though the hollow were an oxygen mask and she were in need of air. Before he could squirm too much her fingers went to work on the front of his shirt, unbuttoning until she could slide her hand in to cup a pec and pinch a nipple, which caused his cock to surge and his ass to clench just as she buried her face in the opening she’d made, breathing as though she would hyperventilate. ‘What do you smell?’ he asked again.

‘Sex. I smell sex like I never smelled it before: fire, hot, earth steaming after a tropical rain. Lightning, always I smell lightning on you. I smell desire like pepper and cloves and star anise. I smell desire all over you.’

‘Yes, you do. All over me.’ He slid his hand up under her sweater and, to his delight, she had removed her bra. Her breasts were full and warm, goosefleshing in the cup and stroke of his fingers. The valley between was moist with the dew of her sweat and the scent of interrupted sleep. Her nipples and areolae pressed into his touch impossibly stiff and demanding, a demand he couldn’t resist. He shoved her back against the window and pushed up the sweater. She struggled only briefly until his tongue circled the stippling tenderness and his lips sealed and tugged. He felt the expansion of her ribs as she sucked breath. With one hand she fisted his hair, holding him to her while the other pulled the blanket over them so they could lick and suck and nip in privacy.

The blanket trapped the tide pool and honey scent of her pussy and, for a moment, he thought he would come just from the smell. A split second later, he realized as her abdominal muscles clenched solid then convulsed, and she jerked against the seat, banging an elbow on the window with a soft curse, that coming was exactly what she was doing. And God, it took all the control he could muster to keep from following suit. Instead he slid his hand up under her skirt, shoving and wriggling and easing her thighs open until he found the moist gusset of her panties. He scrunched it aside and thrust two fingers into the slippery hot swell of her, still gripping, still quivering, still quaking in the aftershocks. There he lingered, fascinated by the feel of her orgasm, coupled with the intoxicating scent of arousal and release and need that blossomed again almost immediately. A thumb stroke against her distended clitoris caused her to jerk so hard against the seat that she nearly bucked him off. But he held her in place, his fingers stroking and darting in a fresh flood of fragrant heat while his greedy mouth suckled and licked as much of her breast as he could manage.

‘Sit up!’ Sit up now,’ she hissed, wriggling out of his grasp and quickly propping her head against his shoulder, his hand still pressed to the swell of her, his mouth still wet with saliva and tingling with the taste of her hot skin. They pretended to be asleep as an attendant passed by, though no one could possibly believe anyone breathing as hard as they were and smelling as sexed as they did was actually sleeping.

When the attendant disappeared into the back of the plane, Paulo turned enough that he could see her eyes shining in the darkness, then he pulled his slippery fingers from her pussy and brought them under her nose. She sniffed and whimpered. ‘That’s what you do to me,’ she managed. ‘All I have to do is smell you and I’m wet.’ The second whimper was guttural as he licked the exquisite taste of her from his fingers. Before he could catch his breath, her hand went to work on his fly. She wasn’t gentle, and he didn’t care. With trembling fingers, he unwrapped the blanket that had been left on the extra seat and covered his lap. Then he straightened her blanket over her bottom and fingered his way back between her legs, wishing like hell he could get his head down there, bury his face and his mouth in that delicious nectar. He caught his breath and nearly bit a hole in his lip as her mouth sheathed his cock in tight, white heat. Her tongue snaked and curled up the sensitive underside, lapping the abundance of pre-cum that now made yet another damp patch on his boxers. While one hand curled around his hip, the other cupped and stroked his full sac. He could hear her sniffing, and as he deepened his stroking and spreading and scissoring between the swollen gape of her labia, her moan vibrated down the length of his erection, and he nearly lost it again. This time the attendant simply pretended not to see as he passed, and Paulo didn’t even try to dissuade the woman in his lap from her very delicious task. But her mouth wasn’t where he wanted to be. The tight grip and release, grip and release of her around his fingers made it impossible not to think about burying his cock in her slick, hot depths.

As though she’d read his mind, she pulled away, wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, and nodded to the restroom just two rows back. He knew he’d never get his cock stowed, so he didn’t try. He just tugged his shirt out over the top of his trousers, took her hand, and led her toward the restroom, his dick bouncing as they went. The minute they’d shoved their way in and locked the door, he sat on the lid of the commode and dug in his trouser pocket for the condom he was hoping he’d need. She watched with her skirt up and her undies dragged to one side, her fingers darting in and out of her wet slit as she thumbed her cherry-ripe clit. As soon as he was suited up, she turned around, sliding her panties down over her ankles. Then she eased herself into position, squatting, fingering her swollen lips open for him. With one hand on her hip and the other guiding his erection, he pulled her onto his lap and impaled her. They both stifled a cry, inhaled, and inhaled again. The scent was high tide, summer lightning, and pepper and spice all mixed together. She bit her knuckles to hold back the sob of pleasure. He buried his face in the nape of her neck, one hand seeking out the weight of her breasts, the other sliding down to tweak her hard clit. She was slick and tight with a grip like warm velvet, and she smelled like heaven, like nothing Martelli Fragrance at their very best could ever replicate. As he strained and pumped into her, he wondered what their combined scent smelled like to her. But before he could dwell on it, she orgasmed hard, covering her mouth with both hands to hold back what, no doubt, was an animal growl. Her whole body shivered and convulsed, and her grip on his penis became unbearable. He came in jerks and spasms until there was no breath left in him, until he saw stars behind the tight clench of his eyelids. Then they both collapsed against each other.

He was still gasping for breath when she eased herself up. She turned on him, tugged off the condom, and, before he could do more than offer an astonished gasp, she shoved up her sweater and began rubbing his semen over her tight nipples and down her belly. ‘I hate that we have to use a condom,’ she said. ‘I want your smell against my skin.’ Then she reached her hand between her legs and wiped her open palm over the splay of her folds until it glistened with her juices. Holding Paulo’s gaze, she did the same to him, wiping her scent over his nipples and down his belly.

For a long moment she stood over him in the tight little room, gulping back their scent. He followed suit. God, he didn’t want to leave. He wanted that smell. He wanted to take it home, sleep with it, dream with it, take it to the Martelli labs and study it. But in his little fantasy, he’d have to take the woman who helped produce that delicious scent to the lab with him, and he’d have to fuck her repeatedly. After all, results of an experiment had to be duplicable to be proven. Right? Nearly head-butting her, he bent and picked up her panties, pulled them to his nose, and sniffed. ‘I want these,’ he whispered as she offered him a questioning gaze. ‘A memento.’ While she watched, he carefully wiped her pussy on them and stuffed them into his pocket. ‘I want to take something of you back to my flat with me, something that won’t wash away when I shower. And when I take them out of my pocket and masturbate to your scent, I’ll come thinking of you arriving in Rome wearing no panties.’

She offered him a wicked pout. ‘Don’t I get a memento?’

With his eyes locked on hers, he pulled a pristine white handkerchief from his pocket and made a show of wiping his cock and down around his balls. Then he refolded it and handed it to her. She sniffed it deeply and stuffed it in her waistband before wriggling her skirt down over her bare bottom.

If he’d had doubts that the experiments he’d been wanting to carry out in the Martelli labs were worth pursuing, this woman with her incredible nose and their shared olfactory experience completely eliminated them. He didn’t know how he was going to do it, but he had every intention of convincing her to stay in Rome and work with Martelli. But first, he’d probably need to know her name. Before she turned to leave the restroom, he pulled her back to him and gave her a long lazy tongue-kiss, whispering into her mouth as he nipped her bottom lip, ‘I’m Paulo, by the way.’

‘Nice to meet you, Paulo,’ she said, nipping back. ‘I’m Liza.’

Back at her seat, Paulo didn’t sit down. ‘I have a mountain of work I need to finish before we land, and you, my lovely Liza, have delayed my progress terribly.’

‘Poor dear,’ she said, handing him his jacket from where it had fallen on the floor.

‘I’d rather stay here and sniff you.’

‘And I’d rather you did, but since you’ve got things to do …’ she slipped a business card in the breast pocket of his shirt ‘… just give me a call when you’re ready for another sniff.’

He groaned as she fondled his nipple pressing against the pocket. ‘Give me your phone,’ he said. She pulled her BlackBerry from her seat pocket and handed it to him. He entered his number into her address book and gave it back. ‘I’ll sniff you in Rome once we’ve both had a good night’s rest.’ He nipped her earlobe, then turned and sauntered back up the aisle to the first class cabin.

Chapter Four

‘Wow!’ Liza gasped as she pushed open the door to Number 14 Bernini Place. This was way more luxurious than she had expected. She knew that Martelli Fragrance owned the Bernini Building. When they’d offered her the flat while she was in Rome writing her article, she had expected a nice studio apartment and, with any luck, a good view. What she got was high ceilings, wood floors, and very expensive modern Italian furnishings in a flat at least twice the size of her mother’s house in Portland. She dropped her bags at the door and took the tour. There was a huge kitchen and a dining room with French doors leading onto a mosaic-tiled patio. There was a lounge, a study, and a master bedroom with a bathroom bigger than her whole flat. The bed was big enough for an orgy and so were both the Jacuzzi tub and the shower. She could easily get lost in the closet and have to wait for a search party, and she was already fantasizing about doing Paulo multiple times in multiple rooms.

Thoughts of the mysterious Paulo, and his involvement in her total lack of panties, had her wet and clenching by the time she lugged her bags into the bedroom. She deliberately took the time to unpack, shifting her hips as she walked, feeling the delicious friction beneath her skirt. She couldn’t keep from wondering if she was still sitting in the airport lounge dreaming. Things like this never happened to her. Certainly things like Paulo never happened to her. She’d never thrown herself at a man before, and this time she went totally off the deep end. Fucking in the bathroom in an airplane! In the air! That was so cliché it didn’t bear thinking about, and yet, God, it was the best damned sex she had ever had. Ever!

Still, if she were wiser, more cautious, mindful of the fact that she’d just broken up with her boyfriend … But no! She wasn’t on the rebound. Honestly, it was a relief to be away from Carl. With all the distance between them he’d never really seemed like her boyfriend. She wandered into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door to find it fully stocked. Martelli really knew how to treat their guests. She found a bottle of chilled sparkling water and poured it into a cut crystal glass, then she nibbled at a few of the delicious grapes from the fruit bowl. Finally she moved back into the bedroom and settled cross-legged in the middle of the enormous mattress to check her BlackBerry. She supposed she should actually read the messages Carl had left. They would be a little easier to take after her steamy encounter with Paulo.

There was an email from Addie asking if she’d made it to Rome all right and how her flight had been. She actually giggled out loud. The flight was amazing, she replied. She was looking forward to sharing details with her friend over a glass of wine once she got back to Portland.

The next three emails were from Carl. She skipped those. Then there was another one from Addie asking if she’d enjoyed her time with Carl. She thought about it for a second and then simply replied that it hadn’t happened. She really didn’t want to talk about Carl, not when her mind was still buzzing with thoughts of Paulo.

There was the tinkle of an incoming text. She figured it was Addie and braced herself for a barrage of questions about Carl. But the text wasn’t from Addie, nor was it from Carl. It was from Paulo. Her heart went into free fall.

Did you make it to your hotel OK?

With a big smile plastered on her face, she texted back.

Just arrived. Staying in a flat, actually. It’s amazing! You?

In limo heading home. Have your missing undergarment in my pocket. Stroking it to stimulate your delicious scent. Pretty sure you can guess what I’m stroking with my other hand.

She laughed out loud. The rush of moist heat between her legs made her quiver. She slipped out of her sweater and unhooked the bra she had put back on before the plane landed, giving both her girls a caress as she freed them.

Really, P! Sex in a limo is so cliché.

Really, L! With your scent all over me, and your memento in my pocket it’s more essential than it is cliché.

Ah yes, my missing undergarment. Thanks to you I left the poor cab driver’s leather back seat very slippery.

She wriggled on the bed.

Where are your hands, you naughty woman?

On my BlackBerry, of course.

Lol! Liar.

Her chuckle sounded positively filthy.

Not lying at all. Keyboard getting sticky though.

You naked?

Still wearing skirt. Nothing! Else!

OMG, woman! What you do to me! Pic?

Her heart bounced furiously in her chest and her pussy clenched. Fuck! Had he just asked her to send him a picture? Double fuck! Was she actually considering it? She nearly dropped her BlackBerry as she texted back.

You show me yours, I’ll show you mine

There was a long pause. Oh god! Had she misunderstood him? Had she offended him? She was in the middle of composing a quick apology when his text came through. Fucking hell! It was a picture of his very large, very thick erection resting in the cupped palm of his hand against the silky red backdrop of her panties. The text simply read:

Your turn.

This was insane. This was not the sort of thing she would ever in a million years do. Was it because she was in a foreign country with a man she’d more than likely never see again when she was done here? For that matter they might both wake up in the morning too embarrassed to even contemplate further contact. He wasn’t some backpacker passing through. Fuck! She knew nothing about him other than that he’d been seated in the first class cabin. Maybe he was married. Maybe he was a pervert serial killer. For the briefest moment a picture of Carl’s bare ass shoving and humping at the bimbo on his kitchen counter flashed through her head. She caught her breath, shoved up her skirt, and leaned back against the pillows, splaying her legs wide and bent-kneed. Then she fingered open her engorged pussy lips and snapped the shot with her other hand.

A peek at it made her stomach somersault. It was just so brazen. Her pussy, centre stage, wet and wild and on display between her fingers. Christ, she was insane, but she was totally turned on by the thought of Paulo stroking his cock with her panties while getting an up close and personal of her love box in his inbox. She wiped her fingers on her skirt and quickly typed:

To Rome with Lust: Cumming soon in a bedroom near you.

There was another long pause, but she was way past thinking about apologizing as she fingered her wet spot and thumbed her clit with one hand while flipping back and forth between the two filthy photos with the other. She was damn near there when the next text arrived.

Just came on your panties.

That sent her over and she had to wait to reply until she was done orgasming. When she could breathe again, she typed with an unsteady hand.

Just came on my fingers, then wiped them on your handkerchief.

There was another long pause in which she imagined both of them catching their breath. Finally another text arrived just as she was drifting off against the mound of fluffy pillows.

Gotta go, Lovely L. I’m home. See you tomorrow?

Her heart skipped a beat. He wanted to see her in spite of what they’d done!

Have to work tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow eve?

I’ll text. I know a great Italian restaurant

Chapter Five

Paulo stopped home just long enough to shower and change clothes. He couldn’t quiet his mind, and it wasn’t only because he’d just had the sexiest twelve hours of his entire life. As was often the case, inspiration followed very closely behind really good mind-blowing sex – at least it did for him, and his experience with Liza Calendar had definitely been just that. He picked up her card and examined it again before he stuffed it in his wallet. Liza Calendar High Rising e-mag. Where had he heard that name before? He’d have to look up the website when he had a few minutes, but at the moment, he wanted to talk to Coraline and get her approval for what he had in mind.

‘Welcome back. She’s not in her office,’ Jim Dryer called over his shoulder as Paulo headed toward Coraline Martelli’s suite. He fell into step next to Paulo, trying not to spill his overly-full coffee cup. In spite of being born and bred in Middle America, Jim’s Italian was excellent; he could drive and park in Rome with the stroppiest Romans. He knew a hundred ways to make pasta that was bellissimo. The man loved everything about Italy, but in the middle of the afternoon, he still had to have at least one cup of weak instant coffee. Paulo shivered at the thought. ‘I need to talk to her,’ he said.

‘Talk to me about what?’ Coraline Martelli blew in like a wind off the Med. Somehow, she always dressed to the nines without looking like a clotheshorse, and even this late in the day she had that morning freshness about her. Her PA Alessandro looked slightly less pristine: rapidly taking notes and struggling to keep up. ‘Get me some coffee,’ she ordered him. He glanced up, wrinkled his brow as though he’d only just realized where he was, and then headed back toward the kitchen. ‘What do you want, Paulo?’ she said. ‘I’m not in a great mood. I hate the new line, and the marketing people we hired are idiots. How was New York, and fill me in on this woman with the nose you emailed about.’

While Jim’s eyes still glazed over at the way Coraline Martelli’s brain darted and shifted, Paulo had worked with the woman most of his life. She was anything but scatter-brained. The CEO of Martelli Fragrance had one of the most brilliant minds he’d ever known. She just had too much going on to always get it out in a manner that the less brilliant could understand. Not that Jim wasn’t brilliant. He wouldn’t be working at Martelli if he wasn’t the best, but Jim still viewed Coraline as only slightly less than a goddess, and that made it difficult for him to meet the woman head to head in her own environment.

‘Come into my office,’ she motioned. ‘Do you need Jim? Alessandro,’ she called back over her shoulder. ‘Coffee for Paulo too. Jim’s drinking his afternoon swill.’ Then with a nod of her perfectly coiffed head she walked into her suite without so much as breaking stride. Looking dazed, Jim followed Paulo.

Coraline plopped down behind her desk, pulled out a very expensive pen, and began to doodle on the desk blotter, which was the only cheap thing in the room. And probably the most essential. Coraline Martelli’s very best ideas came from what seemed like her endless and mindless scribblings on numerous sheets from her blotter. Paulo had in the back of his mind that some day they should collect all of those pages, put them into a book, and publish them. People would pay good money for the ideas that came from that brilliant mind.

‘So tell me about the nose,’ she said again, offering Paulo a no-nonsense smile just as Alessandro delivered two double espressos and a plate of Milano biscuits.

Paulo gulped his espresso, taking the moment to do a quick edit of what he would tell Coraline and what he would keep to himself. He was glad for Jim’s presence because, when she read between the lines – which inevitably she would – she’d be less likely to grill him if they weren’t alone.

OK, it wasn’t one of Liza’s finest moments, and she’d like to have blamed it on jet-lag, but really, it was hard to sleep when the glorious Italian sun was gleaming through the windows of the fabulous apartment, and she and Paulo had just sexted their way to yet another mind-blowing orgasm. Liza could tell from the map of Rome that she wasn’t but a few blocks from the offices of Martelli Fragrance and, since she was wide awake, she might as well get an early start on her research. After a quick shower, she walked the few blocks to the Martelli Building. It had been her plan to ask if Reception would call upstairs to the main offices and get permission for her to have a look-see. But then she smelled him. There were some things you just couldn’t write off to jet lag. She was as sure as she was of her own name that she smelled Paulo. She’d recognize his scent anywhere and, from the strength of it, he had only been there a few minutes before. She sniffed her way to the lifts without being noticed and, when no one looked her way, she took the one that smelled most like him. As much as anything, she rode the lift all the way up to the Martelli Suites so she could spend a few more minutes basking in the wonderful lightning storm and desert heat scent. When the elevator opened to Martelli’s main reception, the smell only became stronger, and when no one paid her any attention, she followed it. The little gasp of ecstasy that escaped her lips was purely involuntary and would have been embarrassing if anyone had been close enough to notice.

She sniffed down a long hallway past a kitchen that smelled of rich coffee made strong and made often. It was amazing how easily she could sift through all of the smells of all of the people who worked at Martelli and single out just his amazing scent. It was as easy to follow as a marked trail. It led her to a large corner office with an open door where the scent of him was damn near strong enough to make her come. The sign on the brass plaque engraved in elegant italic letters read A.P. Delacour. Her stomach did a somersault. Why the hell would the office of the heir apparent to the Martelli empire smell like Paulo – her Paulo? She walked by the office as unobtrusively as she could, and when she was certain it was empty, she did the stupidest thing ever. She looked both ways, then she walked right on in, sniffing as she went. And oh God, the room smelled delicious – like the man had rubbed up against everything, like the man had spent the night there. She sniffed her way behind the desk where the smell of him was strongest, warm and rich. On a stupid impulse she pulled back the big leather chair at the desk and slipped into it. There was a fresh wave of Paulo-scented air as the cool leather caressed the exposed backs of her thighs. She couldn’t help herself, she opened her legs, and her own scent peaked with arousal that left her sniffing and sighing and breathing at that more than magnificent blending of their smells. Her nipples stiffened to hard points against her bra and she closed her eyes and inhaled through her nose. Then she did it again and again, her hips shifting forward and back ever so slightly against the clutch of the leather. She smiled to herself as she thought about the filthy text she would send to Paulo tonight, and how she would tease him about sniffing him out at Martelli Fragrance. Strange that those should have been her thoughts instead of thoughts of self-preservation.

‘What are you doing here?’ At the sound of a sharp male voice, she shoved the chair back hard enough for it to hit the wall behind as she gave a little yelp of surprise.

Busted!

When he’d finished telling the story of his encounter with Liza Calendar in the lounge and again on the plane, leaving out the orgasms and the part where they joined the Mile High Club and the part where they sexted their way to … well, more orgasms, he added quickly, ‘You’ve just said you hate the new line, Coraline, and we’ve talked for a long time about doing a little experimentation with pheromones and the scents of sex and sexual attraction. If anyone could help us, this woman could. That is if you could get The Mount to agree to some experimentation.’

Coraline swallowed back her espresso in a single gulp and blinked large, bright eyes at him. ‘You fucked her.’

Christ! Was she really going to do this in front of Jim? Speaking of … the guy nearly fell off his chair, spilling coffee into his lap.

‘Oh for heaven sake, Jim, have you never heard of sex on a plane?’ she said, giving him her perfected “grow up” look. Then she handed him a box of tissues.

There was a soft knock on the door and Alessandro stuck his head in, looking slightly embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry to bother you, Ms Martelli, but –’ her PA looked from one man to the other, decided on discretion, then stepped into the room and whispered something against his boss’s ear. Her brow rose, making her eyes look even larger under artfully done make-up, then a smile curled around her lips. ‘Really?’

The PA gave a tiny little nod as though that might keep Jim and Paulo from seeing that whatever it was, the answer was yes. Then he glanced down at the note pad that Paulo was pretty certain was surgically attached to his hand and whispered some more in her ear, so quietly that Paulo was surprised even Coraline could hear it, but then the woman never missed anything.

‘Astonishing,’ she said, in a voice that could have passed for a chuckle. ‘Have them take her downstairs,’ she said softly, her lips nearly brushing his ear.’

He nodded, made a military-sharp turn on his heels, and left Paulo once again at Coraline’s mercy. ‘Now, gentlemen, I believe we were discussing Paulo joining the Mile High Club with a woman whose nose could greatly benefit Martelli Fragrance.’

Liza had expected to get tossed out on her ear. In fact it wouldn’t have surprised her if she had been told to pack her bags and catch the next flight back to Portland. What she didn’t expect was to be escorted between two guards, both built like football players, down to a sub-basement. Maybe Martelli sent the riff-raff out through the parking garage rather than the main entrance. The elevator doors opened into a hallway that was painted stark white with minimal track lighting down the center of a suspended ceiling. The place was deserted and silent except for the buzz of the lights. But it was the smell of lust with a sharp metal edge that got Liza’s full attention, and beyond that she could smell sex. In spite of the situation, Liza responded to the olfactory surprise with lust of her own, pepper-spiced and smoky. She chided herself for not being more afraid, more cautious, but the nose seldom misled her and, as the two guards stopped in front of a door at the end of the hallway, the smell of sex grew stronger. When they motioned her inside, she was surprised to find the room empty except for a plain pine desk with an armless office chair behind it. They guided her to stand in front of the desk, then one of them spoke in accented English. ‘Stay here, and wait for Fidelia.’ They both left. And she waited, standing stupidly where the two men had left her. She was just about to move to the chair and get a little more comfortable when she noticed there were cameras near the ceiling in the corners of the room. Her pulse ratcheted up a notch.

She’d had just enough time to imagine the worst when the door burst opened and the woman who entered nearly took her breath away with her lusty scent. She wore the female version of the security uniform – a black pencil skirt several inches above her knees and a matching tailored jacket over a white blouse. Her dark russet hair was caught up in a chignon beneath a service cap. The whole uniform was just enough to be sexy and yet left no doubt about the woman’s authority. She stripped off the jacket and hung it over the back of the chair, her caramel and crème eyes locked on Liza as though she were prey. Her thin white blouse did little to hide the lacy detail of the bra beneath that cupped heavy breasts into a tight, deep cleavage. The bitter chocolate and coffee scent informed Liza the woman was turned on by being in a position of authority, and she was especially turned on that Liza was at her mercy.

‘Why were you in Mr Delacour’s office?’ She asked, settling into the chair behind the desk.

Liza’s laugh was thin and breathy. ‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.’ It sounded stupid the moment she said it. Her inquisitor stood and moved to pace a circle around Liza before she finally said, ‘Try me.’

‘It was the scent. I smelled someone I know. Look, I realize this sounds crazy, but I can recognize people by their smell. I swear it’s the truth.’ God, couldn’t she just snivel and be done with it? Where her sense of smell was concerned honesty always made her sound like a loony-tune.

‘And just who do you think you smelled in Mr Delacour’s office?’

‘I know this is a tremendous coincidence, but I’m actually here to write an article on Martelli Fragrance. I’m Liza Calendar. I’m the co-owner of High Rising magazine. I’ve discussed the article with Mr Dryer. You can ask him. Anyway, I just got here and I thought I’d check out the office. Then I smelled Paulo. He’s the guy I met at JFK.’ She forced a breathy laugh. ‘I mean what are the chances? But I know what Paulo smells like, and I followed his scent to Mr Delacour’s office. God, I realise it makes me sound like a stalker, but I swear that’s the truth. I’m certain Paulo was there recently.’

The woman laughed out loud. ‘Are you serious? Paulo was in Mr Delacour’s office? Do you think I’m a fool?’ She now stood behind Liza, so close that her large breasts pressed against Liza’s shoulder, so close that Liza could feel the heat of her breath against her ear. But the second before Liza could panic, she smelled the salt water and loam scent of arousal. Slowly, Liza inhaled through her nose. There was no denying it, no denying the feel of the woman’s nipples pressing enthusiastically into her personal space. The scent became spicy and electric as the woman ran one splayed hand up Liza’s belly then up to cup her breasts in turn, while the other pulled Liza’s head back to rest against her shoulder at an uncomfortable angle. ‘Of course the office smells like Paulo, stupid woman. It’s Paulo’s office.’

‘Paulo’s office? What do you mean, Paulo’s office?’

Without warning, she kicked Liza’s legs apart in a motioned that forced her to bend forward and grab on to the desk for balance. Then she gave her a shove until Liza was sprawled over the pine surface facing the chair at the back, and the woman’s scent grew stronger. With a gasp, Liza realized she was smelling something other than the woman’s growing arousal. She was now smelling her own desire joining in the olfactory dance. The woman was still close behind her, her breathing quickening, her open palm resting, first on Liza’s hip, then moving down over Liza’s bottom to the hem of her skirt. Lisa’s butter-honey scent curled around Fidelia’s – wasn’t that what the guard had called her?

The woman’s fingers scrunched up the edge of Liza’s skirt, and then she leaned down and bit her earlobe before she said in a harsh whisper, ‘Augusto Paulo Delacour, Ms Calendar. If you’re here to write an article, you might want to get that fact straight.’

And this time the spiking of Liza’s scent had nothing to do with Fidelia’s roaming hands, but the thought that she had had sex on a plane with A.P. Delacour, the man himself!

Before she could dwell on it, Fidelia spoke again. ‘The boss’s office is not a public play area, Ms Calendar. Ms Martelli employs me and my staff to take care of the sluts who come sniffing.’ She shoved Liza’s skirt up high enough to expose her thong. ‘That’s exactly what you were doing, wasn’t it? Sniffing?’ She grabbed the elastic back in her fist and pulled upward so that the thong raked tightly along the splay of Liza’s pussy, and the catch of her breath at the sudden discomfort and the sweet salt scent confirmed the fact that it was more than just discomfort she was feeling down there. The woman’s growl of a chuckle told Liza that she knew it too, whether or not she could recognize the scent.

And suddenly the threat of danger that the woman, who was far bigger and far more muscular than Liza, represented was subsumed in the peppery-sharp scent of edgy, kinky lust and, as always, Liza’s nose knew. And Liza’s intrigued nose wanted more. Before her brain could fully register it, her body responded. It took her a few seconds to realize that the little kitten sounds that echoed off the bare walls were her own. Fidelia’s deeper, big cat purrs vibrated against the back of her neck. She half expected the bigger woman to sink her teeth in. But instead, with a spike of picante sexy aggression, she tugged at Liza’s thong until she had forced her up onto her tiptoes. ‘Tell me, Liza Calendar,’ she huffed against her ear. ‘Can you smell my pussy? Because I don’t really need a special nose to smell yours, to know you like being interrogated.’

‘I smell you, yes.’ Between her efforts to take in the intriguing scent and the fact that the woman’s erotic touch had driven her pulse up, she was struggling to keep from hyperventilating. The smell of another woman aroused by her, the smell of herself aroused by another woman, and the smell of the two of them together was a scent Liza could have never anticipated, and certainly had never experienced before.

‘And do you like what you smell?’

‘You know I do. I can tell you know.’

Without warning, Fidelia gave her a sharp smack on one ass cheek, and Liza yelped, then opened her mouth and inhaled the thickening cream scent. ‘You didn’t think Mr Delacour sent you down here for me to serve you coffee did you?’ She smacked the other ass cheek and it stung like hell. ‘You don’t get rewarded for invading the man’s private space.’ She dropped a smack on each buttock in quick succession, then squeezed and kneaded, but the idea that Paulo had sent her down here distracted Liza from the pain. Then it raised the stakes in the raging scent of aroused females. He betrayed her. He betrayed their secret or else how would this woman know? But then again she’d all but given herself away to the guards when they found her. Her focus returned sharply to the woman behind her, as she slid Liza’s thong down around her ankles and worried two long fingers in between the pout of her labia.

‘Fuck me, bitch,’ the woman whispered with a hard thrust, ‘You’re about to come already. What do you think? Do you smell about ready to come?’ She brought her thumb to work on the nib of Liza’s clit, and then another smack came down on her bottom mingling pain and pleasure. And that was all it took, she did come. Fidelia gave a knowing chuckle. ‘You like that, don’t you? You like being punished.’

‘Almost as much as you like punishing me.’ God, did she really just say that? The thought that Paulo might possibly be watching what the cameras were recording had her primed and ready for multiples. This should upset her, she told herself. She should be incensed, and yet when the woman brought her hand down again on her bare bottom, her pussy gripped and suckled Fidelia’s fingers.

Fidelia’s laugh was harsh and throaty as she grabbed Liza by the back of her dress and pulled her up, then turned her so rapidly that she nearly tripped over the thong around her ankles before the big woman caught her in a heavy-breasted embrace and took her mouth with a full-scale invasion of tongue and teeth. When she pulled away, breathing like a windstorm, she took Liza by the wrist and guided her hand up under the pencil skirt. ‘You want to feel if you make me wet too, don’t you?’

‘I know I make you wet,’ Liza gasped, shoving her fingers under the edge of the woman’s satin panties. ‘I can smell how wet I make you.’ Then in a cheeky move she would have never imagined herself making, she returned the favour, a bit awkwardly at first – after all she’d never touched a pussy other than her own – but when the woman opened her legs into a shallow squat over Liza’s hand, Liza found the sweet spot and gave it a pinch that spiked the Fidelia’s scent to ripe apricot. Then she fingered her way into the woman’s slick gash that gripped and clenched like a hungry mouth against her thrusts. The scent became more picante, more briny as the woman approached her orgasm, and it was a heady feeling for Liza to realize she was about to make the security guard come. And when she did, Fidelia moaned into Liza’s mouth. Her pussy convulsed and trembled and drenched Liza’s fingers with her juices. When Liza pulled them out from under the woman’s skirt and thrust them into her mouth – into both of their mouths, they tongued and suckled and lapped the taste of come together.

In some remote, barely accessible, region of her brain, Liza couldn’t believe what was happening, that she was performing for unknown watchers. How could she possibly be anything but horrified, and yet she was on the brink of coming again, when the woman gasped, ‘I haven’t finished punishing you yet.’ She dragged Liza around the desk with a hand fisted in the front of her dress. As she opened a drawer and pulled out a long leather riding crop, the scent of sex peaked with an edge of cold-copper fear as Fidelia tested the crop on the desk with a loud smack. Then, with her own skirt still up far enough to expose her panties, she sat down in the chair and wriggled her bottom against the cushion patting her thighs. ‘Over my knees, Ms Calendar. Time to take you punishment for sniffing around Paulo Delacour’s office.’

‘You had sex with her?’ Jim asked as he wiped the coffee from his crotch, trying to sound matter of fact.

‘Look,’ Paulo said, ‘it doesn’t matter if I had sex with her. What matters is that she can smell those kinds of scents. She can smell emotions, feelings. I swear I’ve never seen anyone like her. If you’re not happy with the new line, Coraline, then let’s get her onboard, involve those from The Mount who are willing, and come up with a new line, one that every man and every woman will want to wear because it’ll make them think of sex, because it’ll make them feel like they’re going to get sex because they wear Martelli Fragrance. Then forget the incompetent marketing firm, go with our own team. They’ve never let us down before, and they understand what we need.’

‘You had sex on a plane,’ Jim said, now brushing the pieces of tissue off his crotch. ‘I mean, you had sex on a plane because she liked the way you smelled?’

‘Shut up, Jim,’ they both said at the same time.

For a moment there was silence in the room, and Coraline studied Paulo until it was difficult for him not to squirm. ‘She’s really that good?’

‘She’s really that good,’ Paulo replied. ‘And even more,’ he fought back a blush and squared his shoulders, ‘it was the way we … smelled together, the blending of scent, she somehow had an instinct about how it would be … our scents together.’

Jim shifted in uncomfortably in his seat, but discussing the sex Paulo had just had didn’t phase Coraline Martelli in the slightest.

‘None of this should really come as a surprise. There’s a reason sex smells the way it does. There’s a reason every body has his or her own odor,’ Coraline said. ‘But it’s a huge leap from the mammalian biological need to mark territory with scent to making a perfume that can capture that territorial sense of our sexuality. You think she can help us do that?’

‘I think she’s essential if we’re going to get it right. And if we don’t, then there’s really no point.’

She leaned over her desk toward him. ‘And does this woman have a name?’

‘Liza.’ He let out a long, slow breath. ‘The woman’s name is Liza Calendar.’

Chapter Six

Before Paulo could say anything else, Jim spilled the rest of his coffee and swallowed back a loudly whispered curse. ‘Liza Calendar? You … had sex with Liza Calendar?’ With each word, his voice got higher and tighter. ‘The Liza Calendar from High Rising Magazine? That Liza Calendar? She was on your flight?’

‘Ah, the journalist, I remember now,’ Coraline said as though it didn’t disturb her in the least.’

Paulo felt as though the floor would drop from beneath him. ‘Wait a minute, you know Liza Calendar?’ And now, when it was fucking too late, Paulo remembered too. He remembered why the name sounded familiar. He had grudgingly agreed to be her liaison, even though Jim had set up the interview and article without telling him in advance. He’d only been half paying attention at the time, and he was more than a little miffed. A major part of Jim’s job at Martelli was to take care of these sorts of things so that Paulo didn’t have to.

Jim busied himself, once again wiping his crotch. ‘I know her through email and couple of phone conversations while we made arrangements for the article she wants to do. I told you about her, remember? She’s staying at Bernini Place.’

‘Fuck,’ Paulo whispered, running a hand through his hair. ‘She didn’t tell me. Why didn’t she tell me?’

‘Sniffing you out is hardly a typical pick-up, and if you introduced yourself as Paulo she might not have made the connection that you’re A.P Delacour,’ Coraline shrugged. ‘I suppose it could be a ploy, but I can’t think why. Maybe I should just call downstairs and have Fidelia send her up, and we can question her ourselves,’ she said as matter of factly as if she’d just asked the two if they were ready for more coffee.

‘She’s here?’ Paulo gasped.

Coraline nodded contentedly.

‘She’s here and you sent her to Fidelia?’ he came out of his seat. ‘Why the hell did you send her to Fidelia, as if things aren’t messed up enough.’

Coraline offered him a cool smile. ‘She was sniffing around in your office, I put two and two together after Alessandro told me what was going on and thought we’d have Fidelia check her out.’

‘I’m going to get her,’ Paulo said without asking leave.

‘Do that, Paulo,’ Coraline offered a happy smile. ‘And bring her here to my office. I’ll have Alessandro bring more coffee and some nice biscuits. I’m dying to meet her in person.’

As he raced to the door of Fidelia’s office Paulo could hear the sharp crack of leather followed by moans that could be either pleasure or pain. He didn’t bother to knock, but shoved his way in on a scene that had him breathless, and his cock was instantly stiff. Liza Calendar was turned over Fidelia’s lap. Her brightly coloured sundress was shoved up to expose a gorgeous expanse of rounded bottom now bearing a lattice work of red stripes that Fidelia had clearly laid with the crop, which came down across Liza’s bottom just as the door burst open. She cried out, then moaned and squirmed against Fidelia’s thighs. There was no mistaking the smell of arousal, and no mistaking the part of that arousal that belonged to Liza Calendar. For a second he had to lean against the door to regain control over his cock, then he spoke in a quiet, clear voice, ‘That’s enough, Fidelia.’

Liza yelped and bolted to her feet, nearly falling before Fidelia could steady her. The blush that crawled up her cheeks matched the colour of her bottom as she struggled with her dress. ‘Leave it,’ he commanded, wondering what the hell he’d said that for. She wasn’t a part of the inner circle. She had no idea what was going on. He half expected her to launch herself at him in anger.

Instead she stood unmoving with her skirt gathered in her hands, her chest heaving as she gasped for breath. And at the sight of her, face flushed, bottom exposed, breasts barely covered, Paulo felt the part of him he’d always kept in tight control asserting itself. ‘It hurts, doesn’t it?’

She nodded, avoiding his gaze.

‘Look at me, Liza. You deserved Fidelia’s punishment, you know?’

As her eyes met his, she nodded again.

‘Fidelia, take care of Ms Calendar’s sore bottom,’ he commanded.

The security guard, breasts still exposed above the top of her blouse, a fine sheen of sweat dampening her brow, pulled a bottle of lotion from the desk drawer.

‘Is anyone watching?’ He nodded to the cameras.

‘Angelo is,’ Fidelia said.

Paulo cursed under his breath. Well he’d give the bastard something to watch then, wouldn’t he?

He took Fidelia’s place in the chair and offered Liza his hand. ‘You were sniffing around my office.’

She nodded again as he pulled her to him.

‘That was naughty,’ he said. ‘When I found out you were sent to Fidelia, you gave me an erection in the middle of a business meeting. That’s inconvenient, don’t you think?’

‘Yes,’ she managed with a gasp as he pulled her across his knee. He held out his hand and Fidelia squirted lotion onto his palm, which he applied in circular stroking and kneading motions over and around each wounded buttock and across and between the tops of her thighs, making no attempt to hide his erection, nor to apologize when his fingers slipped down between her thighs to brush against her labia.

‘You may masturbate, Fidelia. I can tell you need to,’ he said, ‘but stand over here so Ms Calendar can watch what you do with your fingers. She’d like that, wouldn’t you, Liza?’

‘Yes.’ The word came out a breathy hiss.

‘This is better than sniffing around my office when I’m not there, isn’t it? Now you can smell just how hot you make me, can’t you?’

She whimpered and nodded and ground her mons against his thigh. He returned the favour by shifting his cock against her. When he’d finished lotioning her bottom, he helped her to her feet just as Fidelia cried out her orgasm in the palm of her hand.

‘And now, Ms Calendar –’ he laid a hand in the small of her back and eased her, face down, onto the desk, kneeing her legs apart ‘– now I’m going to fuck you.’

He ran three fingers up between her distended lips, opening her, lingering to feel her slickness while he undid his fly and lifted his cock and his heavy sac free from their bind in his boxers. He cursed the seconds it took him to don the condom. He hoped the time would come when one wouldn’t be necessary. But he soon forgot the inconvenience as he grabbed on to her hips and shoved home into her tight, slippery depths, breathing in the delicious scent of honey and butter and sea air as she braced herself and pushed back against him with each thrust.

Fidelia moved around close to Liza’s head and tenderly stroked her hair. ‘Did she smell you, Fidelia?’ He asked. ‘She’s good with her nose. Really good.’ The security guard whimpered and stuck her fingers back into her panties as they all approached orgasm together.

Breathless and feeling like his whole body would shatter, Paulo leaned down over Liza and nibbled her earlobe while he fucked her. ‘I’ll let you come too, Liza, though you were very naughty.’ And it was almost as though she took a deep breath and convulsed out her orgasm at his permission. That thought sent him over the edge right behind her. And when he could breathe again, he whispered against her ear. ‘Get cleaned up. I’m taking you to meet Coraline Martelli.’

Paulo could smell her in the lift next to him as he leaned against the wall with his eyes closed, still not able to believe what had come over him in Fidelia’s office. And fuck if she didn’t smell every bit as good as he’d remembered. He figured the slightly picante edge to her scent was probably nerves. He hoped she wasn’t angry, but he figured she was probably too shell-shocked for her feelings to really sink in just yet. He knew he was. Except for his anger at Coraline, of course. He kept his eyes shut, trying to figure out how to handle the situation. He struggled not to slump against the wall, but he’d just had mind-blowing sex again with Liza Calendar after Coraline had handed her over to Fidelia. Now his brain was being forced into a reality check of just what that might mean. No way was he getting out of this one unscathed. He shifted stiffly to adjust as his cock reasserted itself with the scent of Liza Calendar so close to him. At that moment, she sniffed, then sniffed again, a deep inhale that was almost a sob, as though she could actually smell his cock’s happy response, which in turn made his fucking cock even happier. He hunched and kept his eyes closed, for all the good he figured it would do.

At last she spoke. ‘Am I in trouble?’

‘No.’

‘Who was watching? Who’s Angelo?’ she asked.

‘No one important,’ he replied. For a few seconds there was silence, and he hoped there’d be no more questions. Of course he was wrong.

‘Why did you do that to me? Send me down there to that woman?’

He opened his eyes and looked over at her. ‘I didn’t. Coraline did.’

‘Why? Was it some kind of a test?’

‘For her part, probably. For my part, I came to rescue you and, well, I couldn’t resist.’

Her jaw stiffened. ‘I’m glad you all find me entertaining.’ Before he could respond, the elevator door opened, and Alessandro was there practically buzzing like a very-well-dressed bee as he escorted them to Coraline’s office.

Butter wouldn’t melt when Coraline came to her feet and walked around her desk to offer Liza Calendar an outstretched hand. As Paulo tried not to grind his teeth at his boss, he couldn’t help noticing the subtle way that Liza took in Coraline’s scent, and the scent of the room around her. No one else would have noticed. But Coraline knew enough already that he was certain she had seen the little olfactory exchange, and his shoulders knotted still further. The woman never missed anything. And she was unlikely to miss the fact that the two had fucked in Fidelia’s office. In fact, he figured that was a part of her plan as soon as she realized that the invader in his suite had to be Liza Calendar.

‘Ms Calendar,’ Coraline said, ‘it’s a pleasure to meet you. Sorry about the security. My people tell me you were sniffing around, and though the investigative use of a good nose automatically raises my opinion of you and, while we think highly of people with a good sense of smell around here, one can’t be too careful.’ She offered a smile that had mischief written all over it. ‘As for Fidelia, well I do apologize, but she sometimes gets a little carried away with her job. You don’t look too much worse for the wear though, but then I wouldn’t expect otherwise with Paulo coming to your rescue.’ She shot him an amused glance. ‘How are you finding Rome? I hope you’re not too jet-lagged. If you need a tour guide, I’d be happy to arrange something.’ She shot Paulo another glance.

Liza blinked twice and couldn’t hold back another seemingly involuntary, if subtle, sniff about the time Paulo figured Coraline Martelli’s unmissable scent of power and competence washed over her. Then she took the woman’s hand and offered a warm smile. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms Martelli. I’m so sorry for the intrusion. I’m usually better behaved. I only wanted to get a feel for the place and then …’ She sniffed again. ‘Well I ended up in Mr Delacour’s office because it smelled familiar.’

And, like it or not, that was Paulo’s clue. ‘Yes.’ He cleared his throat and straightened his jacket and the little breath he took before he spoke brought the delicious scent of her, still on his body, to his nose. ‘As I’ve already said, Coraline, I’m very impressed with Ms Calendar’s nose.’ The woman standing next to him smelled like heaven and looked like trouble. Clearly she hadn’t expected to be allowed into the inner circle today.

For the first time he noticed what she was wearing rather than what her clothing had revealed to him in Fidelia’s office. She wore a brightly coloured sundress that, without being too slutty, showcased well-muscled arms and shoulders, a good bit of her luscious back, and plenty of exquisite leg. He had personally helped her back into the leopard print thong Fidelia had stripped her of before his arrival. Her feet were comfortably shoed in a pair of delicate but casual sandals that laced up her calves centurion-style. They caressed her feet in soft tan leather, revealing toenails painted cherry red. His mouth watered at the thought of sucking each one of those lovely toes as he worked his way up to the delicious main course she’d sent him a selfie of last night. He’d fucked her twice now, but he wanted to do so much more to her. Christ! He so did not need to be thinking of that right now in front of his boss. But the widening of Liza’s eyes and the flaring of her nostrils along with the parting of her lips in a near gasp told him she’d caught the peaking of his scent along with the direction his thoughts were leading. The twitch of Coraline’s lips into a leonine smile said she knew exactly what was going on, and she knew exactly what was on his mind. He cleared his throat again in a struggle to find his voice, then offered Liza his outstretched hand, trying not to think about what that delicious mouth had done to his cock last night.

‘Ms Calendar, I’m A. P. Delacour. The P is for Paulo, as you’ve probably guessed. And I’m sorry I wasn’t in my office to give you a more genial welcome. It’s a pleasure to make a proper acquaintance.’

‘Though I’m sure the improper one was much more fun,’ Coraline said with a bright grin. Before the look of shock could completely register on Liza’s face, the woman continued like a runaway train. ‘We’ve just been discussing the new line, Ms Calendar. Is it all right if I call you Liza, since we’ll be getting to know each other pretty well in the near future? Everyone calls me Ms Martelli, but only because they’re not brave enough to call me Coraline. Paulo calls me Coraline, but then Paulo’s been with Martelli since he was in diapers, and he knows my bark is bigger than my bite. Well, actually it’s not, but I haven’t sacrificed anyone to the goddess of perfume in a very long time now, and if you behave yourself and do as I say, you won’t be the next.’ She waved her hand extravagantly, ‘I don’t care what you call me. Just be comfortable. Though I imagine you’re not feeling very comfortable at the moment, and I don’t need your refined sense of smell to know that. Never mind. You’ll get over it. Uncomfortable things happen to make life interesting, don’t they?’ Liza blinked twice and opened her mouth, but Coraline continued. ‘You’re staying in the flat at Bernini Place, aren’t you? How are you finding it? I hope Alessandro had someone make sure the fridge was well stocked. Nothing more depressing that coming in from a long flight to find an empty larder. Try the primitivo, by the way, if you’re a red wine drinker. It’s one of my favourites.’

Standing with her hand still resting in his, Paulo could see Liza trying to catch up with Coraline’s rapid-fire welcome. She continued. ‘Yes, as I was saying about the new line, Paulo has some very intriguing ideas, which you seem to have inspired, though they’ve been rattling around in that head of his for a while now. You’ve helped him put them in a much more coherent order, and I’m hoping we can talk about them once you get settled. Oh, by the way, this is Jim Dryer. I understand the two of you have been corresponding.’

Jim stood and offered his hand. The look on his face said he was still trying to piece together what exactly was happening. Jim had no idea what went on with security down in Fidelia’s office. If he ever made up his mind to join The Mount then he’d get his personal introduction to what the woman could do. But in the meantime best keep it quiet. Paulo was still reeling that Coraline had been brazen enough to send Liza to her.

‘Liza, it’s a pleasure to meet you in person. I’m really excited to have you here.’ Jim was nothing if not intuitive, and though it was clear the only person in the room thoroughly enjoying herself was Coraline, he quickly sized up the situation and continued almost as though he’d taken rapid-fire convo lessons from the boss herself. ‘Of course we weren’t expecting you till tomorrow. If we’d known, we’d have made sure your greeting was a little warmer. Never mind that. It’s always nice to have someone eager to get on with their work. I have an itinerary set up for you based on our email conversations. I had our discussion of that scheduled for tomorrow morning, but I have a little time now, if you’d like.’

Her gaze moved from Jim to Coraline to Paulo, then it was as though a curtain came down. All surprise, all shock, and all things bordering on less pleasant possibilities vanished from her face. She shook Jim’s hand enthusiastically and offered a warm smile. ‘I’d like that very much, Jim. Thanks for being so flexible.’ As he motioned her from the room, she glanced over her shoulder at Paulo and then addressed Coraline. ‘I’ll be looking forward to talking to you later.’

As he and Coraline watched the two leave, she nodded back to the chair and he dropped into it, suddenly feeling way more jet lagged than he had five minutes ago. ‘I wish you hadn’t done that, exposed Liza to Fidelia like you did. Angelo was watching the whole thing. Did you know that?’

Coraline raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m not surprised. I assume you gave him something worth watching.’

He didn’t offer an answer and she didn’t expect one. She took her time making her way around the desk, stopping to water a muscle-bound, waxy leafed plant that looked as though it were about to crawl out of its under-sized pot. She settled back behind her desk, picked up her pen, and began to doodle without looking at him. ‘She smelled you. From downstairs in Reception, she smelled you.’

‘She did. Yes.’

‘From all the way downstairs she smelled you and found her way to your office.’

He shifted in his chair. ‘So it would appear.’

‘And you smelled her?’

‘Not until I got to Fidelia’s office, but I’m more sensitive to her now. You know, it’s all just a matter of training our sense of smell to work like it does for all our mammal cousins.’

‘Don’t lecture me about human biology, Paulo. I was the one who lectured you.’ On her blotter, she drew a large cartoon-looking nose with a flower beneath it. ‘She’s not happy with you.’

‘Can you blame her?’

‘No, but I can and do blame you.’

‘I didn’t know who she was.’ He ran a hand through his hair and stood to pace in front of her desk. ‘Coraline, nothing like this has ever happened to me before. You know me well enough to know that. The experience was, well, it was eye-opening.’

‘You mean nose-opening.’

‘That too, but I never meant for anything to happen. It was just … well it was like neither of us could resist the other.’

‘She’s not happy with you.’ She repeated, drawing a stylized heart on her blotter with what looked like a vicious dagger running through it.

‘You already said that. I must look like a right bastard. I mean if I’d had any idea …’

‘If you’d had any idea, you’re not sure it would have made any difference, Paulo. I know how chemistry works.’ Coraline laid down her pen and leaned forward over the desk watching him pace. ‘I’m not concerned about what happened between the two of you. I have a sneaking suspicion that it was inevitable, but I’m also not blind to what the woman might be capable of with a sense of smell like that.’

Before he could say anything she raised a hand. ‘First, apologise to her and make it right. I don’t care what you have to do. Just make it right. Any nose that good, I want working for Martelli. I’m happy to let her make a story for her magazine out of her whole experience here at Martelli, but I want her nose. I want Liza Calendar to help us with the new line.’

Paulo eased himself back into the chair. ‘Even if that means allowing me to recruit people from The Mount to do what I’m thinking of?’

She took a deep breath and drew a giant question mark around the nose. ‘I’m still not keen on bringing in The Mount. I’ve always kept the business separate from what goes on in The Mount.’

‘Business and pleasure seem to be going hand in hand quite nicely in Las Vegas, Coraline. No one would ever consider shutting down the business end of Mount Vegas. Elsa and her team bring in a lot of revenue.’

‘I know,’ she said. ‘I know you’re right, and I’ve thought about that.’ She drew a rapid series of waves and spirals on the blotter, than laid the pen down hard. ‘All right. Make things right with Liza Calendar. Get her onboard, and give me a plan. Then tell me what you need from The Mount and I’ll see that you get it. You know we need this line to be something stunning this year more than ever.’

Paulo felt his shoulders relaxing until he remembered how he and Liza had just parted, then the knots were back with a vengeance. ‘I’ll make it right,’ he said.

Coraline pulled her laptop from her bag and opened it, clearly dismissing him. As he stood and turned to go she spoke with her fingers already click-clicking on the keys. ‘Paulo, I don’t care if you fuck her. If that’s what inspires you and she’s consenting, do it. I do care if you don’t make it right. Are we clear?

‘Yes ma’am. We’re clear,’ he said.

It stung that Coraline could even think he wouldn’t do everything in his power to make things right with Liza Calendar. But it stung even more thinking that Liza might believe he’d taken advantage of her. He stopped by the kitchen for more desperately needed coffee, then shut himself in his office. For a long time he stood at the window looking out over the Tiber, wondering how best to approach Liza, wondering how best to test her abilities, wondering what experiments they could do to get the necessary results for Martelli Fragrance. It pissed him off a bit that he was such an opportunist, but it was the creative and imaginative doors Liza had opened that would not now allow themselves to be closed. Scent and sexuality had to be at least as closely linked in humans as they were in other mammals. How good something smelled and the response it elicited was in the nose of the beholder. And the truth was Liza Calendar elicited a whole bunch of primal responses in him. Still, all that aside – everything aside, he wanted to make things right with her. He wanted a chance to pick her brain and understand what it was like to experience the world primarily through the sense of smell. By the time he settled back in his desk, he really wasn’t thinking about what Liza Calendar could do for Martelli Fragrance. He was thinking about what she did for him. With sweaty hands, he picked up his BlackBerry and texted.

I’m so, so sorry, Liza. I didn’t know who you were.

When there was no immediate response, he consoled himself with the fact that she was probably still with Jim. He didn’t much like that either. If she was mad at him, well Jim was very sympathetic, and Jim did have a way with women – much more so than Paulo did, actually. Jim was a flirt and a good one. Paulo somehow missed out on all that Italian charm that Jim told him he was supposed to have. It’s not that he hadn’t had lovers, and being a member of The Mount, he never had to sleep alone if he didn’t want to. But he supposed he took himself too seriously. Jim said that too.

Well he sure as hell hadn’t last night on the plane, had he? He checked his BlackBerry just in case he’d missed the text. Nothing. He paced the floor a couple more times then made himself another cup of coffee – more than anything so he could confirm that Jim’s door was still shut. He looked down at his watch, went back into his office, and made a half-hearted attempt to get through his emails. The plan he’d been so meticulously putting together had become hard to focus on when his inspiration was not answering his texts. He was just about to text again, when there was a hard rap on his door and Jim let himself in. He shut the door and came to sit in the chair in front of Paulo’s desk.

‘Holy fuck, dude. So you really … you know … on the plane?’

Paulo glared at him. ‘I didn’t know who she was.’ Sometimes Jim was so much like an adolescent boy. Sometimes Paulo envied him that.

‘Of course you didn’t know who she was. That makes it all the better.’ He leaned forward, a wicked grin plastered across his face. ‘What happened?’

Paulo ignored Jim’s question. ‘How is she?’

‘Well she’s not going to tell me, is she? She came across very professional, very enthusiastic about the article, just as you’d expect her to be. If she was upset, she didn’t show it.’

‘Did she say … anything?’

‘She said she had expected Coraline’s accent to be more Italian.’

So why the hell did Paulo feel like he’d just been slapped? Of course she wouldn’t say anything about him.

Jim leaned forward still farther until his ass was almost out of the chair. ‘I hope you haven’t forgotten, Paulo, but you’re picking her up in the morning at ten for a tour of the city, you know, make her feel at home?’ The bastard didn’t even try to suppress a snigger. ‘You told me when I asked you that your schedule was clear. Just give her a nice warm welcome to Rome, and if your welcome is warm enough, she might not ask Coraline for your head on a pike.’

Paulo flipped him off.

Jim’s smile was all sweetness and light. ‘I’d take care of her myself, but I have a meeting in Naples tomorrow. Some of us have to work for a living.’

Paulo flipped him off again.

He only chuckled and stood to go. ‘I don’t know what you and Coraline have up your sleeve, but let me know when you have a plan.’ He fought back a smile. ‘And if you need someone to talk to about your … hard flight, well, you know I’m always here for you, boss.’ He left Paulo growling behind his desk.

Chapter Seven

Please don’t shut me out. We need to talk about this.

Liza stared down at her BlackBerry and cursed. What she wanted was another message was from Paulo. What she didn’t want was a message from Carl. But that’s what she got. She ignored Carl’s text and flipped back to Paulo’s.

I’m so, so sorry, Liza. I didn’t know who you were.

It sounded professional, contrite, everything she would expect of a text from the heir-apparent of Martelli Fragrance. The fucking heir-apparent! She’d had sex with the big man himself! On an airplane! And she stupidly hadn’t even realized it was him. He must think her such an idiot. She was lucky they didn’t put her in the first taxi to Fiumicino and send her right back home.

She really needed to text him back. But it was hard to know what to say. Quickly she typed:

No worries. Neither of us knew. No harm, no foul.

But she couldn’t make herself send it. It sounded cold, and did it sound bitchy? To her it sounded bitchy, manipulative. Did she mean it that way? Oh God, please say she didn’t mean it that way. She didn’t want to be one of those women who manipulated good men just to make them miserable. She had no context for anything like this. How could she know how to behave? Certainly she never thought she’d behave like she had in the last twenty-four hours.

She deleted the text and tried again.

You have no reason to be sorry. The apology is mine. Clean slate?

Just as she was about to press send, it hit her that Coraline Martelli knew they’d had sex, knew before Paulo went after her in the basement. Had he actually told the head of Martelli Fragrance? Anger made her stomach hurt. They knew! They all knew. He’d told them, and she had walked right into Martelli Fragrance and made a fool of herself. They were all, no doubt, laughing their asses off behind her back.

Why did you tell them? she typed, then deleted it quickly. Her chest hurt, her heart felt like it would jack-hammer its way out of her ribcage. Well, she deserved it, didn’t she? She started it. What was he supposed to think other than that she was easy entertainment on the flight, and he was bored?

Another text came through and she nearly dropped her BlackBerry. ‘Damn!’ She cursed when she saw it was from Carl.

We need to talk, Liza. Please let me explain.

She threw the device onto the bed, then paced the parquet floor. Fucking hell, she really didn’t need Carl bugging her on top of everything else! He was old news. He was the least of her problems. And anyway, she should be thanking him. Hadn’t he handed her the perfect way out on a silver platter? She grabbed up the device and typed furiously.

I don’t need an explanation for what you do in your own kitchen or who you do it with. I interrupted. My bad. Problem solved.

She practically jammed her finger sending it. A message came back almost immediately.

??? I’m alone and I’m not in my kitchen. Are you OK?

Sonovabitch! How the hell had she managed to send the message to Paulo instead of Carl? Pacing again and mumbling curses under her breath she shot back.

Sorry! Text meant for someone else.

She sent it off, then figured before she made a bigger fool of herself, she’d finish this up and tuck the BlackBerry away in the drawer where it could do her no further harm.

I’m fine, no worries. I apologize for my bad behavior on our mutual journey and for invading your office space uninvited. I hope it won’t color your opinion of my work.

This time she sent it. It sounded a little bit cold, but at least not snippy. It sounded like the professional she was, and the professional she would now need to be around Paulo … Mr Delacour. As for his indiscretion with his boss and his second in command, well she wouldn’t mention it. The laugh was on her, and she deserved it, but she would not make a fool of herself again, nor would she give him more ammunition with which to entertain his colleagues.

The morning dawned bright and beautiful and very, very early, thanks to jet-lag. There was a gym in the building’s basement, which Liza took advantage of, then she dressed and helped herself to yogurt, a banana, and some coffee. She looked at her watch. It wasn’t yet seven. She had plenty of time before Martelli’s tour guide arrived to take her around the city. She was told it would be someone who knew the place well and had worked for Martelli long enough to answer any questions she might ask. Jim had been a bit vague, like maybe he was still trying to decide who would be best. Maybe he would be her guide? Maybe Martelli would feel she’d be more comfortable with another American. From somewhere in the Midwest, she thought he’d said, but his Italian was almost as good as hers. She knew that Martelli roots were as deep in North America as they were in Italy. No one could actually say for certain if the office in Rome or the one in Seattle was the headquarters, and Coraline Martelli spent as much time in one as she did the other. Clearly Paulo did too. His English was flawless with only the tiniest hint of an accent and, as much as she hated to admit it, he was all the sexier for it.

The morning was just too lovely not to do a bit of exploring on her own before her guide came. She looked down at her watch. She had enough time for a walk to the Piazza del Popolo and maybe even a bit of a wander in the Villa Borghese gardens before she had to get home for a quick shower. Being a Bernini fan, she planned to come back when there was more time and explore the Villa Borghese and all its wonderful treasures. She had adored Bernini’s sculptures of Apollo and Daphne and of Persephone and Hades since she was a child, and it would be lovely to finally see them for real. She changed into walking clothes and headed out the door at a brisk pace. Being near Piazza Cavour meant Bernini Place wasn’t far from the Vatican, and the walk along the Tiber was lovely. The traffic was already heaving, and the noise of the city made a manic soundtrack to her walk. The route was lined with aging churches, wrought iron balconies, and numerous small cafes. She found a quiet one and ordered an espresso, which she drank while standing at the counter, chatting merrily in Italian to the heavy-set man behind the bar, who told her about his upcoming holiday to New York.

It was just what she needed to clear her head. She walked surrounded by sleepy Italians scrambling to face their busy days in the bustle of a city that was old long before there was a United States. The history, the richness, the sheer sensuality of the place, with its rich dark coffee and its unpretentious, deliciously seasoned cuisine was an olfactory feast, a story for the nose. She breathed in and walked on, sniffing and smelling as she went.

Even following her nose, it had taken her less time to get to the Piazza del Popolo than she had expected. The hawkers were already accosting the early-morning tourists with cheap souvenirs of Rome that were all made in Asia. The more aggressive of them she politely turned down, the rest she simply ignored.

The place was as beautiful as she remembered it to be, but it couldn’t be fully appreciated until she crossed the square and made her way up the steps and the zig-zaggy path that led to a car park at the edge of the Villa Borghese gardens, where there was an overlook of the whole piazza.

She breathed in the dry Mediterranean air and the iron and pepper scent of the city. A quick look at her watch, and she decided to hunt down the Villa Borghese, which nestled somewhere in the middle of the extensive gardens, so when she came back, she’d know exactly where to go to see the Berninis. The paths that led deeper into the park were still shaded, the heavy foliage of the trees filtering out the sharp angle of the early morning sun. For a brief moment her Spidey nose tingled and she stopped and sniffed. The muscles below her stomach tightened as olfactory memory sent sparks of arousal to her nipples and all points south. She closed her eyes and sniffed. Surely she couldn’t be smelling Paulo Delacour. What would he be doing here in the villa’s gardens? As she moved on, her fertile imagination filled her head with thoughts of what would happen if she ran into Paulo in the gardens where there were so many places one might sneak off the beaten path. She shut her mind down. It wasn’t going to happen even if he was in the park. Quickly she looked around her again. Their relationship would now have to be professional. It would be difficult enough knowing that every time Jim and – worst of all – Coraline Martelli saw her, they would think about her throwing herself on Paulo. And who knew what Paulo would think.

Paulo! Christ, the memory of him coming to her seat in the plane, the memory of his scent, of his touch had her stopping and sniffing again.

And suddenly the smell wasn’t pleasant anymore. She sniffed, and the sour and acrid scent made her throat clench. She was just about to turn and head back into the open when, from behind a dense hedge, two men sprung. They were both wearing ski masks.

One bumped into her hard and took off in a run. But before she could do more than gasp out half a curse, the second grabbed her bag and yanked. ‘Give it back, you sonovabitch!’ she yelled, jerking the strap hard.

Without a word the man took a knife from his pocket. From behind a ski mask, his eyes locked on hers. Her heart dropped to her stomach and she froze. Before she could draw another breath, he severed the strap with a quick slice of the knife, gave her a hard shove, then ran after the other man. Sharp gravel abraded her left knee and the heel of her right hand as she went down on the path, but before she even had time to panic, a familiar scent washed over her. Strong hands moved around her waist hoisting her to her feet, and she found herself looking into the molasses dark eyes of Paulo Delacour. His scent was tinged with hot metal, and he looked like he was ready to commit murder.

‘Are you all right?’ he said, steadying her.

‘I’m all right. I’m fine.’ She didn’t dare say anything else for fear she would cry. She wasn’t fine! She’d been violated. She was angry and scared and she felt sick all over, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.

The hot metal scent spiked. ‘Like hell you are. What were you thinking? Just give them the damn bag and let it go. Nothing you have in there is worth your life.’ He eased her gently onto a bench and bent to look at her knee.

Through the mist of tears she struggled to keep from shedding she saw that he was dressed in running clothes, and the smell of good clean male sweat rose from him like summer heat.

‘This will sting a bit,’ he said, as he took his water bottle and poured it over the skinned knee, washing off the gravel. She hissed between her teeth and fought the tears harder. From some invisible pocket inside his shorts, he pulled a neatly folded handkerchief and pressed it to the wound. Then he took her hand and checked it before doing the same. ‘It’s not like pick-pockets to be violent. Most of the time the deed’s over and done with before you know what happened. What did they get?’

‘Not much,’ she said resisting the urge to run her fingers through his hair where his head bent over her hand. ‘I’ve travelled enough to know not to carry valuables when I don’t have to. I doubt they got more than enough euros for a coffee and a cheap sandwich. There was a business card and photocopied pages from my passport. Oh, and my favourite lippy. That’s about it.’

‘Your phone?’ he said. ‘Please tell me you’re not wandering about in a strange city without your phone.’

She shifted her cotton shirt enough that he could see the black leather clip-on BlackBerry case on the waistband of her shorts. ‘It’s not elegant,’ she said, ‘but it’s still the best way to carry the thing.’

He offered her an agreeing smile and pulled out his own device. Still tending to her hand, he called up a number and spoke to someone in volatile, rapid-fire Italian about what had just happened. The police maybe? Certainly there was little chance of catching the thieves, and even the bag she’d been carrying was cheap, completely replaceable. At last, he hung up, stood, and offered her his hand.

‘Come on.’ He helped her to her feet. ‘Now that the danger of bleeding to death has past, my flat’s not far from here.’ He looked down at his watch. ‘I’ll grab a quick shower, then drive you back to Bernini Place so you can clean up for our tour.’

She stopped in her tracks. ‘Our tour?’

The smile that turned up the corner of his lips was the kind that should be eaten off if at all possible. ‘Hi! I’m Paulo,’ he said in a breathy sing-song voice, ‘And I’ll be your guide today for your super-duper-deluxe, top-of-the-line tour of Rome.’

Once they were at his flat, he’d pointed her to the kitchen and told her to help herself to what was there, then made straight for the shower as fast as possible. He needed a little time to regroup. The incident in the park had shaken him badly, and he didn’t figure she needed to know that. Seeing the man holding her at knifepoint had terrified him and made him furious that she would fight someone for her bag. It was just a fucking bag! And yet, she was feisty. He liked that about her, even if it had made her reckless. Rome was a fairly safe city if people used common sense, and she had done nothing that should have drawn the attack. It worried him a bit. He was sure the police would find nothing and wasn’t sure his detectives could do much better, but the incident was definitely more than a simple pick-pocketing. Who would want to harm her, he wondered.

He returned to find her standing on the balcony with a bottle of sparkling water in her hand. The glare of the sun made it look as though she wore a halo. He could see the shape of her spine and the details of her bra where her thin shirt clung from perspiration. He sniffed, but the distance between them was too great for him to smell her. He moved closer. ‘You could have had a glass. I do have some, you know.’

‘Figured you probably did somewhere,’ she said without turning around.

There was a long moment of tense silence and from somewhere in the city a siren wailed.

He didn’t know what to say. Funny it had been so easy on the plane and then when they texted it had felt so natural. ‘Are you ready to go?’ he asked.

She nodded and followed him through the flat to the garage where his car was parked. It wasn’t a long drive to Bernini Place and he filled the silence by bringing her attention to the touristy points of interest while she oohed and aahed politely in appreciation. They needed to talk. God they needed to talk, but he couldn’t seem to get past the discomfort of the situation they had been placed in through no real fault of their own. She left him in her own kitchen while she went to shower, and he found himself feeling not so much slighted, but more as though she were imitating him because she didn’t know what to do either. But he wasn’t going to leave things as they were. He just couldn’t.

It was possible Liza had lingered a little longer in the shower than she’d intended. It was mostly not knowing how to react to the man in the kitchen. She had dressed in a summer skirt and a tank top and was sitting on the edge of the bed combing her hair when she was surprised by a knock on her door and the strong scent of coffee. He entered with a cappuccino in one hand and a first aid kit in the other. Without a word, he handed her the coffee, knelt in front of her, and opened the kit.

‘It’s all right,’ she said, trying to pull away. ‘It’s not that bad really.’

He offered a smile and nodded for her to lift her skirt, which fell to mid-calf. With a blush, she did as he asked.

‘Have you eaten?’ Before she could answer, he pressed on. ‘I figured you probably hadn’t. While you were in the shower, I picked up some nice pastries at the shop around the corner. I’m sorry, I’m not a good host. I just –’

She sat the coffee down on the nightstand. ‘Why did you tell them?’ Christ, she couldn’t believe she’d just blurted it out, but it needed to be said she supposed. He stopped tending her knee and stared up at her.

‘Why did you tell Ms Martelli and Jim that we’d … had sex? I mean I know I started it. I was out of line. But I would have never …’ She swallowed back tears. She absolutely wasn’t going to cry in front of him. If he could be a hard ass, so could she.

His eyes widened and he shook his head. ‘You think I told them?’ With one hand on the half-opened bandage the other came to rest gently on the uninjured knee. ‘Fuck! I would have never, ever done such a thing, Liza. OK, I was excited about your sense of smell. I’m in the perfume business, and your nose is the best I’ve ever seen by a long shot. I thought maybe you might want to work with us on a project. I was excited about how you stimulated my own sense of smell, which is pretty damned good by the way. And …’ He struggled once more to focus on tending her injured knee. ‘OK, I was excited about the way we smell together, about the implications.’

‘About the implications?’ She kicked at him with her bare foot, but his reflexes were fast. He caught her ankle before it hit the hard muscles of his stomach. ‘About the fucking implications. What was I, a goddamned experiment to you?’

His thumb was making tight little circles around her anklebone, which he still held firmly. ‘Hell no, you weren’t an experiment. You were a fucking obsession. Once I’d smelled you, once you’d touched me and I’d smelled us together, that was it! And after we were in the lounge and what happened there, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I couldn’t.’

‘Is that what you told them then, that there was this chick who sniffed you and you sniffed her back and then you had sex on the plane because you were obsessed with her. Oh, for fuck sake!’ She shoved him away and stood to pace. ‘I promised myself I wasn’t going to do this. I promised I’d not act this way. It’s my fault. I started it all. How can I complain about whatever you do with it after the fact?’

He stood and grabbed her shoulders, turning her to face him. ‘I didn’t tell them. I would never.’

‘What then?’ she said, stamping her foot.

‘You obviously don’t know Coraline Martelli. The woman is scary intuitive. She knew. She knew the minute I mentioned your nose. I don’t know how she knew. And even then no one had made the connection that it was you until you showed up in my office. Well, then I suppose our response to each other was obvious, and she isn’t above toying with people when it suits her.’

‘Oh well that’s good to know – that I need to watch my back while I’m here. I wonder if I should find someplace a little less upscale and a little less Martelli to stay.’

‘You still don’t understand, do you?’ He fell into step and paced with her. ‘She got it. She only half believed me until you showed up, literally sniffing around. But then she totally got it. She wants your nose, and yes, she will toy with you and badger you until she gets what she wants. Me …’ He shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. ‘With me it took a while. I’ll admit it, OK, I was thinking with my cock. And I wasn’t terribly disappointed that the lounge was crowded and I had to sit by the sexy woman who knew how to fill out a sweater. And don’t even begin to accuse me of just wanting you for sex when I’m pretty sure it wasn’t my brain that was turning you on.’ He stopped and turned to face her, risking life and limb to grab her again by the shoulders. ‘Look, Liza, I like you. I like what I know about you, and I’ve been doing a little research since Jim dropped the bomb in Coraline’s office. I’d like to get to know you better, and I’d like for us to start over and let bygones be bygones. I think we’re gonna need to if we’re gonna work together, don’t you?’ He lifted an eyebrow and cocked his head. ‘What?

‘You’re starting to talk like her. I only caught about half of that.’ She felt the tension drain from her shoulders. ‘But I think it was the important part, the part I needed to hear. Shall we turn over a new leaf?’ She extended her hand, which felt pretty stupid, considering the man had given her the best sex she’d ever had. Twice! And he still smelled like sex on wheels. But he took her hand in his, then instead of shaking it, his mouth curled into that edible smile and he brought it to his lips and laid a warm kiss on the back of her knuckles, and both of their scents spiked. But she forced herself not to notice.

Chapter Eight

The Skype tone ended abruptly, and Rita squinted at her laptop monitor. ‘Mom? Are you all right?’

Coraline could tell she’d caught her daughter in her office at Talkabout magazine. She was always struck by how beautiful her Rita was, and how strong. She was proud of her. She told her that a lot these days. She wished she done it more when she was younger. ‘I’m fine, darling, just fine. Do you have a few minutes?’

‘Of course,’ Rita said, lifting a cup in salute. ‘Always time for a nice cuppa with me mum,’ she put on her best British accent.

‘I met Liza Calendar yesterday. It took me a while to remember how I knew her. She was your friend when you were in university, wasn’t she?’

Rita offered the broad smile that had Martelli written all over it. ‘Still is. I’m not ashamed to admit I pulled a few strings with Martelli to make sure her article didn’t fall through the cracks.’ There was that smile again. ‘You’re her hero, you know? Though I probably shouldn’t tell you that. It’ll go straight to your head.’

‘Why did you never bring her home to meet me?’ She hadn’t intended to ask that question. The two of them pretty much left the past in the past now, and they were working hard to make up for lost time.

‘Mom, you were never home, and –’

‘And neither were you if you could help it. I know. I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t mean to bring that up. It’s just that she’s … well, she’s a very interesting person.’

Rita leaned forward, clutching her cup between her palms. ‘You know about her nose.’

‘She came sniffing around the office yesterday, literally. I’ve never seen anyone like her. I could hardly contain myself. Has she always had such a sense of smell?’

‘As long as I’ve known her, but she usually tries to hide it. What happened?’

Coraline lifted her own cup and sipped thoughtfully, wondering how much she should reveal. But then she was never known for her subtlety. ‘She had sex with Paulo on the flight to Rome.’

Rita inhaled coffee, sputtered and then grabbed a couple of tissues to wipe the rain of caffeine off the monitor. ‘She had sex with Paulo? Seriously?’

Coraline nodded. ‘You seem surprised.’

‘Why wouldn’t I be? I mean obviously she liked the way Paulo smelled. It’s just that it’s so rare.’

‘So rare what?’ Coraline motioned Alessandro into her office, and he made a show of placing a fresh coffee and a pastry in front of her before he turned and left.

Once Rita was sure they were alone again, she leaned closer to the monitor. ‘Well, most men have a hard time getting past Liza’s nose.’

Coraline let that sink in with a rise of butterflies. This woman sounded better and better all the time. ‘Then she doesn’t …’

‘No, Mom, she most definitely doesn’t sleep around. In fact some guy in New York who was hot for her actually made her sneeze. I laughed when she told me, and then I felt bad about it. I mean can you imagine? Oh, and emotions. She smells emotions. Actually, she used to be great fun in bars. We’d go in and order a drink and she could sniff out who was hitting on whom, who’d been doing the nasty in the alley, who was jealous, who was horny. Liza’s amazing.’

‘Why did you never tell me about Liza’s nose – me, a woman whose livelihood and that of her daughter at the time, depends on scent?’

Rita blew out a sharp breath. ‘Mom, I never told you anything at the time. You were never home and when you were, we weren’t talking.’

‘Sorry. Again asking questions I know the answers to.’ She nibbled at her croissant and dabbed the crumbs from her lips with a linen napkin. ‘I want her, Rita. If she’s anywhere nearly as good as you and Paulo seem to think, then I want her for Martelli.’

The smile disappeared from Rita’s face, and she folded arms across her chest. ‘Mom, is that all Paulo is interested in? Is that the only reason he fucked Liza, because if it is, I’ll kill him, and you can tell him that for me. She’s one of my best friends, and toying with her is beneath him, or it damned well better be.’

Coraline lifted her hands as though she could fend off the verbal attack. ‘You’ll have to talk to your brother about that, darling, but if it’s any help, he seemed as dazed and confused by what happened as Ms Calendar was.’

‘Oh I’ll talk to him, alright, don’t you worry, and I’ll come over and personally kick his ass if he hurts her.’

Coraline couldn’t hold back the smile. Though Paulo wasn’t Rita’s biological brother, they had always related to each other like older brother to kid sister, and when the time came that they were both of an age at which something less platonic might have developed, it never did. Though Coraline would have been all right with it if their relationship had gone in that direction, really, she had always secretly seen her daughter with Edward. Of course she’d never tell Rita that. Rita would have seen it as her meddling again. Which it was, but then what was a mother for if not to meddle – especially when she knew she was right.

‘What are you smirking at?’ Rita glared at her mother. A face that used to mean a fight now meant a friendly argument.

‘You’ve always been a good friend, sweetheart, and you know your brother well enough to know he’s not the kind who would deliberately hurt anyone. I’m sure he won’t do wrong by Liza Calendar.’

Rita raised an eyebrow. ‘And what about you, Mom? What are your plans for Liza Calendar?’

The smirk became a full-blown chuckle. ‘Me? I simply want to see what the woman’s nose can do before I make her an offer she can’t refuse.’

Rita laughed at her mother’s Godfather impression, and that was just fine. Rita could laugh, but Coraline was about to meddle again.

Augusto Paulo Delacour was easy to be with. In the sun-drenched ruins of the Forum under the blue Roman sky, their scents seemed to blend in a different way. He knew his city, and it was clear he loved it. And Liza loved watching his enthusiasm and sharing it. No one could live their whole life at a fever pitch. There had to be something more to admire about a person than the fact that he smelled amazing and he was a fabulous fuck. She couldn’t keep from wondering if the scent of a person told more about them than just how sexually compatible they were or the present state of their emotions. She knew so much about Coraline Martelli and the business she had taken over from her father. The woman was her hero in so many ways. But she’d not paid much attention to the man who was the heir apparent to the Martelli empire, the man who was good enough to step in and take over for the daughter who wasn’t interested. His nickname was Paulo, the Nose. How had she missed that? A quick internet search had informed her that he was the child of a Portuguese secretary who had worked for Coraline and an Italian father, who died of a heart attack when Paulo was eight. His mother died only a two years later. With no other relatives except an ancient great aunt in Lisbon, Coraline took the boy in, and the rest was history. Still, being all but adopted by Coraline Martelli didn’t account for his talent and drive. The man couldn’t do what he did if he didn’t live through his nose, maybe not exactly like Liza did, but his livelihood depended on it nonetheless.

Her attention returned to the Forum and the intriguing man who stood next to her. It was one of those rare occasions when there was no one in the House of the Vestal Virgins except the two of them. The reflecting pools were deep azure under the midday sky, and most people had moved to shadier places, but she lingered. After the cool damp of Portland, where she now lived, the heat felt delicious against her skin, and Paulo seemed used to it. The place had that wonderful scent of ancient history writ large, then left to crumble and age in the sun.

‘The Vestals had freedom no other women in Rome did,’ Paulo said. ‘I think in some ways Coraline is a modern example of a Vestal Virgin.’ He laughed to himself. ‘Minus the virgin part, of course.’

A part of Coraline Martelli’s appeal to Liza had always been that the woman had gotten pregnant on purpose because she wanted a daughter. She never took the father’s name for her child, never mentioned who he was. She rose above the scandal by doing what her father did, only better, by making his business twice the business it had been; by giving Rita the Martelli name and never once letting anyone look down on her for choosing to raise Rita as she had. Liza smiled at her image in the reflecting pool. ‘No, definitely not a virgin.’

They walked together in silence admiring the statuary around the outer courtyard. ‘So who has the right to do what in their kitchen?’ Paulo asked.

When she gave him a questioning look, he said, ‘You know, the text you accidentally sent me last night?’

‘Oh. No one important.’ She left it at that, and he didn’t pry. After her embarrassing mistake, she’d deleted the message and decided to ignore Carl a while longer. But she could almost smell all the questions Paulo wanted to ask about the strange woman who had all but attacked him in the airport lounge.

‘Do you always sniff out your men?’ When he did finally ask a question, she bristled, then stopped and bent to smell one of the roses in bloom in the courtyard to calm herself before she spoke. ‘As a matter of fact I do.’

‘I see,’ he said. ‘And how has that worked out for you?’

Surely he wasn’t jealous. But that sour citric smell was there. ‘It sucks, actually.’

‘How so?’ He turned and nearly ran into her.

She looked up into his eyes and drew in a deep breath, which was a mistake because it brought with it the heat of his scent. ‘Would you enjoy making love to me if I smelled like rotting vegetation or wet garbage? How about if all you could smell on me was deceit? How about if the smell of me made your nose itch or made you sneeze uncontrollably? Would you still want to make love with me? Would you even be able to?’

Before he could do more that gape at her in surprise, she jerked her head toward a couple who had just passed them, hand in hand. ‘Those two,’ she whispered, ‘they just had sex here somewhere close by in the Forum. She’s still wet from him, even though he tried to clean them both. He probably has a handkerchief or something because his right-hand pocket, when he brushed past me, smells strong of them. He’s smug, she’s uncertain of how she feels about what they’ve done. They smell like too much garlic fried in burnt butter. That man over there?’ She nodded to a man with a camera glaring into the reflecting pond. ‘I don’t know what he’s angry about, but he smells like mustard and wet dog. How easy do you think it is for me to have a love life when I live with this every day?’ She brushed the tip of her nose with her fingers.

Before she could recover from her outburst enough to apologize, he gathered her hand, brought her palm to his lips, and kissed it fervently. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered. ‘Sorry for what I just said. Sorry I don’t completely understand, but not sorry about how I smell to you. I’m so not sorry about that.’

‘Liza, hi, it’s me again. I’m … I’m just so, so sorry about what happened. It’s … Well I missed you so much, with us living so far apart. I just got lonely, and it … it just happened. She meant nothing to me, darling. You have to know that. We need to talk, Liza. Please. We can work this out. I know we can.’

Carl Blain listened as Liza’s voicemail played back his message. When he was certain it sounded acceptably contrite, he disconnected. The phone had rung over to Liza’s voicemail ever since his first attempt to call her after she caught him fucking Connie on the kitchen counter … or was it Courtney? He wasn’t so much sorry that he’d fucked Connie – she had one tight pussy – as he was sorry he’d gotten caught. In fact he really wasn’t as sorry as he was pissed off. What the hell was Liza thinking, showing up at his flat unexpected? He’d given her his key, yes, but it had only meant that he planned to fuck her the next time he saw her, and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer after all her putting him off.

He contemplated the situation for a few moments then he called Liza’s business partner. He knew they were also good friends. It wouldn’t hurt to have her in his corner, and he figured he could charm her. As she picked up, he plastered on his best I’m-your-friend’s-sexy-lover smile and spoke. ‘Good morning, Addie,’ Carl forced his teeth into the smile to help him sound more cheerful even though he didn’t feel it. ‘Just wondering how things are going for Liza in Rome?’

‘As far as I know, just fine.’ He could hear the suspicion in her voice, like why the hell wouldn’t Liza have contacted the man she was dating with at least a text.

‘Well,’ he chuckled, ‘if I know our Liza, she’s probably already so focused on Martelli Fragrance that she’s forgotten all about both of us.’

On the other end of the phone, he heard the woman laugh softly. ‘She does tend to get a bit tunnel-visioned. And she was particularly excited about meeting Coraline Martelli in person. I got an email saying she was safely at the flat, but I’m sure I’ll get a full update when there’s something to tell, and so will you, no doubt.’

So, Liza hadn’t told her. That was both a relief and a surprise. He though the first thing women did when they were upset with their men was to commiserate with each other so they could discuss what bastards all men are.

‘Liza’s a law unto herself, Carl, and that’s what makes her so good at what she does.’

At least the woman had the good grace not to ask him how his night with Liza had gone. He wouldn’t have to lie. No doubt she’d hear all about it soon enough, but at least for the moment, she was blissfully ignorant. Just then, his cell phone rang. The display on the screen made his shoulders tighten and the coffee in his stomach turn to acid. ‘I’ve gotta go, Addie. I have another call. Have a lovely day, and give my love to Liza when you speak to her.’ He hung up and ground his teeth, then answered his cell.

‘What is it, Latimer?’ He didn’t try to hide his irritation. The PI knew not to call at his office.

‘I thought you’d like to know that my people have caught up with the lady in question in Rome.’

‘And how is that valuable to me? I knew she was going to Rome, and I knew what she was going to be doing there.’ That’s why Liza catching him banging Carrie or Kellie or whatever her name, was such a fiasco. He was counting on a little help from her while she was in Rome.

Latimer cleared his throat as though he was either embarrassed or he was about to impart the wisdom of the ages. ‘It’s not so much what she’s doing in Rome as who she’s doing in Rome, if you get me, Blain.’

‘Who she’s doing?’ Carl barely felt the arrogance of the man calling him by his last name. ‘What do you mean who she’s doing?’ He’d never met such a prude as Liza Calendar. How many times had he wined and dined her and she still hadn’t put out? It certainly wasn’t like he needed a piece. He could have it whenever he wanted, and he did. But Liza Calendar, well she was one of those women who wanted more than just a good fucking, and even that was OK considering what he wanted from her. In fact that had been perfect. And if she hadn’t caught him with his cock crammed up Connie, or Carrie’s cunt, he would have made their first time special for her and she would have had stars in her eyes and done exactly what he wanted. ‘What the fuck are you talking about, Latimer? Get on with it.’ He didn’t need the goddamned pause for effect.

‘Liza Calendar is doing A. P. Delacour.’

For a second, Carl could hear nothing over the loud ringing in his ears. Miss Sweet and Innocent was fucking Delacour? Seriously? He wondered how the man felt about her sneezing all over him.

‘Blain?’

‘You’re sure,’ Carl finally managed.

‘Deke, one of the attendants of the flight she was on – which coincidentally happened to be the same flight Delacour was on – said Delacour followed her back to coach then the two were all over each other before they finally snuck into the restroom. Now I can’t think of any other reason a man and a woman who were giving each other the grope would go into a toilet on an airplane together, can you?’

When Carl made no immediate response, Latimer continued. ‘There’s more. Two of my men did a little pick-pocket routine on her while she was out doing the touristy thing. Turned out to be a little rougher than they expected. The woman’s feisty.’

‘You didn’t hurt her, did you?’ Though at the moment a part of him didn’t care if they’d beaten the shit out of the bitch, she’d be of no use to him in the hospital.

‘No, no, of course not. But strangely enough, out of the blue, who should come to her rescue but Delacour himself. He took her back to his place, and then went about the business of giving her a personal tour or the Eternal City.’

Carl felt his stomach clench. It was unprofessional. That had been the excuse Liza Calendar had used repeatedly to put him off. It wasn’t until her article on Blain Holdings was finished that he could even get her to go out to dinner with him. He struggled to focus on what the man was saying.

‘Anyway, it seems that her first afternoon in Rome she actually met with the big three themselves.’

‘Seriously?’ Carl sat up straight in his chair and the leather squeaked beneath his ass. How the hell had she managed that when she was a nobody? Goddamn it! Why’d she have to come to his place early! This should have been information gathering for him! She should have been his ace in the hole!

‘Vera said the woman’s ballsiness was all Jim Dryer could talk about afterward. She said he was laughing at how Ms Calendar showed up sniffing around. Seems security brought her upstairs and right on into the lioness’s den. Apparently she not only came out in one piece, but she left the Queen Bitch smiling.’

Coraline Martelli smiling. That didn’t happen very often, unless she had just ripped someone’s throat out with her fangs. ‘So let me get this straight, Liza Calendar, sneezing, sniffing, snuffling Liza Calendar, has elbowed her way right on into the Martelli inner circle and she’s banging the man himself?’

‘The evidence is certainly pointing in that direction. Vera’s still trying to get in with either Dryer or Delacour, but it looks like Delacour is dipping his wick elsewhere now. She says Dryer’ll take the bait and she’ll be in in no time.’

Carl switched his phone to the other ear and flipped absently through the copy of The Wall Street Journal his secretary had delivered earlier. ‘I want you to keep on her, Latimer, and have Vera keep on her toes. Do you know where Liza’s staying?’ he asked.

Latimer gave him an address, which he wrote down quickly. Then he hung up and buzzed his secretary. ‘Sally, I need you to call the florist and have a very large, very expensive bouquet of flowers delivered to Number 14 Bernini Place in Rome.’ He gave her the details then hung up and swiveled his chair to look out the window at Central Park far below. This was not at all how he’d planned things to work out between him and Liza Calendar, but he had to remind himself that most of the time plans didn’t work right out of the block. There were always back-up plans, and even back-ups of back-ups. His father had forgotten that when he’d tried to take down the Martelli Empire. Well, he wasn’t his father, and he wouldn’t forget, and his instincts told him that Liza Calendar was still very much a key player in his plan. He couldn’t for the life of him figure the sudden and very surprising sexual connection between her and Delacour. From what she’d told him, she didn’t know Delacour. She practically worshiped Coraline Martelli, and Jim Dryer was her ticket to the story she wanted to write. In fact, he couldn’t recall that she’d ever done more than brush his mentions of Delacour aside as though the man were of no importance at all. Perhaps she was a better player than he thought. Perhaps he needed to deliver more than a bouquet of flowers to Liza Calendar’s door.

Chapter Nine

‘Whoa! Testosterone in large doses. Not a big surprise with the chick ovulating.’ Liza nodded discretely to three backpackers who had just brushed past them as they made their way along one of the narrow side streets off the Via Del Corso, heading toward Piazza Navona. The woman, who looked to be barely out of her teens, was sandwiched between the two guys who didn’t look much older, but they were both obviously vying for her attention.

‘You can smell testosterone?’ Paulo asked, finding his own desire to pull her close and protect her from the hustle and bustle of the crowd difficult to control.

‘The testosterone is obvious,’ she said. ‘I don’t have to smell it. I smell her heat, like something primal, like she’d like to have them both, then have them again. I smell their response to her heat, like sharp citrus and black pepper.’ They stopped on the street and watched the trio that had just brushed past them. One guy had his hand on the girl’s cut-off-clad bottom. The other one had his arm draped around her neck, fingers dangling dangerously close to a well-displayed braless breast, nipples heavily peaked beneath a pale yellow tank top. ‘I think she’ll have them both,’ Liza said, her eyes following the trio. ‘I think they’ll get drunk tonight, go back to wherever it is they’re staying, and have a really filthy threesome, and –’ she sniffed, then added ‘– I think we both like that thought just a little too much.’

He grunted. ‘You got that right. Come on, the place I’m taking you for lunch is just around the corner and maybe the smell of great Italian cooking will take your mind off how we smell.’ He held her gaze. ‘I’m very hungry.’ Both of their scents spiked, and he could smell the blending even on the busy, sweaty street. For a moment they walked along in silence, then he said, ‘You can really smell all that, just in a passing moment on a busy street?’

‘I can. Of course their smell got my attention, first of all because it’s sex and jealousy and lust, and second of all because they bumped into us. What did you smell?’

‘You,’ he replied as he guided her into a small café and on through to a vine-shaded garden behind. ‘It was hard for me to notice anything else but you.’

She offered him a wicked smile. ‘Testosterone has tunnel-vision, or tunnel-smell, in this case,’ she replied.

They were late to lunch. There was no one else in the secluded garden but the two of them and, he had to admit, that was exactly why he’d brought her there. In the cool shade of heavily hung grapevines and the scent of the herb garden along the wall he could smell the soft dew of her perspiration, the subtle scent of the soap the maid always furnished the flat with, and her lust. He smelled her lust. Now that it had been brought to his attention, he would always be aware of it and never be able to miss the seashore and honey-butter scent. Now there was a subtle undertone that was like freshly brewed tea. That wasn’t lust, but something else, something that kept her focused on more than just his lust for her, which he had no doubt she smelled. God, how the hell was he ever going to be able to stay away from her?

The waiter was just taking their order when Coraline Martelli marched through the door to the garden, sat down at their table, and ordered the carbonara from the surprised waiter. That done, she helped herself to a glass of wine from the carafe almost before she said, ‘how are you.’

When the waiter finally left, Paulo spoke between gritted teeth. ‘Coraline, we weren’t expecting you.’ No doubt Liza could smell the irritation rolling off him.

‘Oh, I know, I know, but I just couldn’t wait any longer. I had to talk to Liza, and I figured I’d find you two here.’ She turned her attention to Liza. ‘It’s Paulo’s favourite place, and he likes to eat late –’ she patted Liza’s hand and gave her a knowing smile ‘– for the privacy.’ Christ, the woman could actually be subtle when she wanted to, but subtly didn’t seem to be on today’s menu.

As the waiter brought a first plate of Roman gnocchi, Coraline sipped daintily at her wine and studied Liza. ‘I Skyped with Rita this morning.’

Liza toyed with her gnocchi. ‘Oh? How is she?’

‘Fine! Rita’s fine. Unrepentant that she never introduced the two of us and that she never told me about your nose.’

Liza smiled down at her plate. ‘Rita’s always been pretty protective of me and my nose.’

‘Mmm. And it seems she felt she needed to protect you from her own mother.’

Probably wise of Rita, Paulo observed.

‘Why would I need protection from you?’

Oh God, he thought, that was not a question to ask.

‘Paulo, have you shown her your proposal?’ Coraline turned her attention to him. Just like her to answer a question with a question.

‘What proposal?’

Before Paulo could respond, Coraline was off and running. ‘I took the liberty of bringing a flash drive for you, darling …’ She dug in her bag, being her usual evasive self, ‘… because I figured by now Paulo would have had time for a proper apology for his indiscretions, and I’m anxious to move forward.’ She handed the drive to Liza with a broad smile. ‘Liza, dear, I want your nose.’

‘What?’ Liza nearly dropped the drive in her gnocchi.

‘I want your nose to help us develop our new line of fragrances.’ Before Liza could respond she raised her hand to silence both her and Paulo. ‘Oh I know you’re an excellent journalist and businesswoman or High Rising wouldn’t be doing so well. I’m perfectly happy to let you use your experience for your article, with a few exceptions that involve … shall we say … Martelli trade secrets. Your unique abilities –’ she nodded to Liza’s nose ‘– are an asset I’m willing to pay well for, and I think the opportunity I’m offering you at Martelli intrigues you very much, doesn’t it?’

Paulo could see the thud, thud of Liza’s pulse against the tender spot on her throat, but her face gave nothing away. They all sat quietly as the waiter brought their main courses and refilled everyone’s wine glass. Once he was done fussing, Liza leaned across the table, eyes wide, pupils dilated with interest. ‘What do I have to do?’

Coraline made a point of digging into her carbonara and oohing and aahing about the chef’s magic before she wiped her mouth daintily and spoke. ‘Read Paulo’s proposal.’ She nodded to the flash drive Liza still clenched in her hand. ‘It’s not complete, and you may have some suggestions. Then tonight, I’ll send a car for you at 7.00.’

Paulo felt his heart somersault. Surely Coraline wasn’t going to throw Liza in at the deep end, but the woman shot him a warning glance, followed by a quick smile that was the look he had seen on the faces of predators before they made a kill.

‘For what?’ Liza asked.

‘Are you involving The Mount?’ Paulo suddenly lost his appetite.

‘Of course, Paulo,’ Coraline batted her lashes at him. ‘Just exactly like you planned.’

‘Coraline,’ He scooted closer to the table. No use trying to hide what they were saying in Italian, since Liza spoke better Italian the even Jim did, and he supposed his half-whisper, half-ventriloquist act was a dead giveaway that he didn’t want to involve her in the conversation, but he did it anyway. ‘Coraline, don’t you think taking her to the villa is a bit premature?’

His boss barely glanced at him. ‘Not at all. Once she’s read your proposal the next step is to take her to The Mount’s villa. Better sooner than later and best if she goes with no expectations, then we know her response will be unbiased. Don’t you agree, Liza?’

‘That makes sense,’ Liza said. ‘It all sounds so intriguing.’

She had no idea, Paulo thought. And this a woman who had been abstinent until the night before last. Was she in for a surprise.

Chapter Ten

It was actually a limo that picked Liza up in front of Bernini Place. She did get the odd limo service from time to time in her line of work, but it still felt like an unexpected luxury when it happened. She figured she’d be taken to the Martelli offices or the research facilities, which were outside Rome and not far from Ostia Antica. She remembered that because Ostia Antica was one of the tourist sites at the top of her must-see list before she left Rome. Instead, she was taken out toward Tivoli. In one of her earlier trips to the Eternal City, she had visited the Villa d’Este, built on the hills at the edge of the town. The weather and been close and hot, and she had relished the cool gardens with the myriad Renaissance fountains. As she strolled down memory lane, the limo climbed the winding road toward the town. She watched out the window allowing her mind to wander over Paulo’s exciting proposal, over the fact that Ms Martelli had said whatever happened tonight was off the record and Paulo had clearly not been thrilled about her participation.

The limo turned off the main road into the countryside, still climbing until it was practically consumed by the hills. At last the driver approached elaborately crafted wrought-iron gates the height of a two-storey building. They opened automatically and the limo moved down a long road that twisted and turned and continued to ascend until the vista opened onto a villa built against the breast of the hill. It was flanked by sculptures that could have passed, in their detail, for Bernini’s work except that these sculptures were beyond romantic, beyond the romp of fawns or even beyond satyrs showing off their packages. The sculptures were intentionally erotic, beautifully so. They were mostly based on stories from mythology, but no proverbial bedroom doors were closed and nothing was left to the imagination. As Liza was ushered out of the limo and into the villa by a man the size of a small Italian car, she noticed that the frieze above the door sported a much more graphic version of the stylized Martelli logo: Ares and Aphrodite in that magical moment just before penetration, his very substantial cock and her very exposed pussy poised at the ready. Liza smelled the spike of her own scent at the erotic views, but her escort seemed completely unaffected by them – no doubt jaded from seeing them every day. Inside, he led her up a long, curving staircase, which divided halfway with both staircases then continued upward curving in opposite directions. He took her to the left.

From the time she entered the villa, Liza could smell Paulo’s lightning storm scent, and it grew stronger as she ascended the stairs in growing anticipation. At the top, in front of a closed door Coraline Martelli waited with a leather-bound notebook and a pen in her hand. She spoke quietly to Jim Dryer, who stood with his head slightly bowed, the look on his face deep concentration. Though Paulo’s scent was strong, he wasn’t with them.

‘There you are, Liza,’ Ms Martelli said. ‘We’re ready for you.’ She nodded to Jim, who held three sealed zip-lock bags. ‘These are the T-shirts from another experiment the lab’s conducting. Our volunteers have slept in them for the past three nights. Could you tell us what you smell?’

Jim handed Liza the first one, which was labeled A. She opened it cautiously and sniffed, then blinked to keep her eyes from watering. ‘You also asked them not to bathe for those three days?’ The two shot each other a quick look, and Jim nodded. ‘Believe me, that wasn’t necessary.’ She took a shallow breath through her mouth for self-preservation. ‘This belongs to a man and from the smell he’s pretty aroused. Clearly he eats in bed, ’cause garlic! Wow! And anchovies.’ She handed the bag back, holding it with her fingertips.

Without comment, Jim offered her another bag and this time she sniffed more cautiously. ‘Another man, not quite as pungent, but also very aroused.’ She noticed Coraline Martelli was scribbling in the leather notebook.

Jim handed her the final zip-lock.

‘A woman, ovulating, also very horny. What’s this all about?’

Another look passed between them then Jim spoke. ‘We’ve been doing a lot of testing and experimenting with pheromones, as you will have read in Paulo’s proposal. But to take our theories to the next level is … well, it’s risky.’

‘It’s innovative,’ Coraline corrected.

Liza felt butterflies take flight in her stomach. The smell of other people’s arousal was something she had gotten used to and had learned to block out, especially when she could tell such a great deal about people’s sex lives from their scent. When she’d had a flat mate, she always knew when she brought home her boyfriend. She knew, even with the substantial wall that separated her room from her flat mates, when the foreplay began, when orgasms happened for both of them, and she could tell when Ellen was faking it, which happened often and was part of the reason for their break-up. Liza could also smell the comedown and could tell when the two drifted off to sleep. Ellen was a good flat mate and the sex was always quiet, but Liza’s nose never missed anything. It still embarrassed her to recall how many times she’d lain awake in her own bed, inhaling the scent of sex coming from next door, imagining where Dan was touching Ellen, sensing the moment of penetration; fantasizing about how he touched her, what position they were in; masturbating and secretly blending her own scent of arousal with theirs. Sadly, back then that had been as close to real sex as her nose would allow her.

‘What exactly does this experiment involve?’ she asked, as the acidic tang of her own nervousness spiked with a nettle sting.

‘Oh, don’t worry, darling,’ Coraline said. ‘Your job is simply to tell us what you smell and make observations. The room is equipped with a recording device so that you won’t be distracted by having to write anything down. Paulo will be with you. Jim will be watching from the two-way mirror next door, and me, well I don’t want to know until it’s finished. That’ll keep me unbiased as well.’

The idea of a two-way mirror ratcheted up the scent of nerves even higher. But it was knowing that Paulo would be with her that changed the game plan. Didn’t they realise that his scent was the scent she smelled above all else? She supposed she should remind them of that, but she didn’t.

Jim’s BlackBerry buzzed a text. ‘All right.’ He stuffed it back into his pocket and smiled at Liza. ‘Time to dance. Paulo’s waiting.’ He nodded to the door then turned and went into the room up the hall. Coraline watched her expectantly, as she turned the door handle with sweating fingers, took one deep breath, and stepped inside.

Liza found herself in a small entryway not unlike that of a hotel room. As always her sense of smell entered the room first; it was heavy with fragrant arousal. Immediately she recognized the scents of three other people present. But they paled to insignificance compared to Paulo’s, and she wondered how she would ever be able to block the delicious smell of him enough that she could focus on the other three. Once the scents were sorted, she could hear the wind rush of heavy breathing along with the wet sounds of kissing. For a sharp instant her own scent peaked with jealousy. The thought of Paulo with someone else made her chest tight, which was ridiculous. She’d only been with him twice. She was nothing to him. Still the sting of finding a man in the arms of another woman was a repeat performance she wasn’t keen on witnessing. She took a shaky breath to steady herself and, it was in that breath, she became aware that only three of the four scents were blending. Paulo’s scent was not in the mix. It was somehow separate. That intriguing fact gave her the courage to move forward.

Though Paulo had been distractedly listening for Liza to enter the room, he kept an eye on what was happening in the bed. After all, this was exactly what he’d hoped for, exactly what he’d never dreamed Coraline would give her OK for until Liza Calendar and her magnificent nose came into the picture. Unfortunately there was baggage that came with her nose, and that was the fact that he wanted her in the worst way. Even if she didn’t run away outraged at the first sight of the three on the bed and what they were doing, having her here with him observing what was about to happen wasn’t likely to do anything to subdue his lust. It was her little gasp of surprise that got Paulo’s attention from where he leaned against the wall at the foot of a large bed on which the three people writhing and shifting had progressed to a partial state of undress. She inhaled deeply, breathing in the situation on the bed. Then she sniffed again, and her eyes locked on his, which was rather amazing considering that Pietro had his lips wrapped around one of Livinia’s heavy gum-drop nipples, his tightly trimmed beard swishing against the pinkening pale skin of her ample breasts. David knelt beside her head, his white-blond hair falling over his face as he watched her nimble fingers working on his fly. And yet, Liza Calendar watched Paulo.

‘I’m sorry she didn’t warn you,’ he blurted. ‘I wanted to but she said it was better this way – Coraline.’

She sniffed again, and this time he knew as well as he knew his own name that it was his scent she took in. Then she turned her gaze back to the action on the bed. ‘These were the certain types of “experiments” you were talking about,’ she made quotation marks in the air with her fingers, speaking in a whisper as though she feared her voice might interrupt the ménage on the bed. This time it was Paulo’s turn to sniff. It had never been difficult for him to recognize the smell of sex, nor the smell of obvious arousal, but with her focus on the action and her standing so close to him, it was her scent he wanted. And for a moment he wished like hell he could smell her the way she had just smelled him. Still it was there, the subtle heat of her. It was there like it had been on the plane. And for a second his stomach knotted and he resisted the urge to pull her into his arms and take her against the wall. He wanted her attention off what was happening on the bed and focused completely on him, and what he could do for her. His pulse beat a rapid tattoo against his throat, as she shot a raised-eyebrowed look over her shoulder at him. Had he been caught in the act? He wondered if she could smell his thoughts. But she turned her attention back to the action. ‘It’s a good idea,’ she said, watching as Livinia freed David’s cock, which bounced only once before she worried it into her mouth. Pietro had shoved up Livinia’s short skirt and there was a sudden wave of seashore heat in the room that even Paulo could smell. He reminded himself that until Liza Calendar came along, his was the definitive nose at Martelli Fragrance. ‘It’s an excellent idea, in fact,’ she continued. ‘Exactly what I was thinking when I read your proposal, although I’m not sure I would have begun with this combination.’

Paulo felt the tension leave his shoulders so quickly that his knees nearly gave, and the accompanying sigh of relief, well, he hoped she would mistake that for his efforts to smell what she smelled. ‘You’re OK with this then?’

‘Of course I’m OK with it.’ To his surprise, she began pacing around the bed sniffing, then pausing and closing her eyes, then repeating the process. ‘The scents of sex are the perfect building blocks for fragrances that will do what perfumes were intended to do from the beginning – enhance desirability. That’s really just a euphemism for arousal if you look at it from a biological point of view. It’s a mammal thing, isn’t it?’ She moved still closer to the bed, sniffing as she went, and he followed.

She leaned in until her nose was only centimeters away from where David’s cock shoved in and out of Livinia’s tight mouth. There she inhaled with her lips slightly parted. David’s eyelids fluttered and he moaned and shoved his jeans down until his bare ass was exposed to Liza’s view. Pietro, with his eyes locked on Liza, licked his way down Livinia’s belly, sniffed her splayed pussy, then began to lap it with the flat of his tongue, but his focus was clearly on Liza.

‘Can you smell that?’ Liza asked, without turning to Paulo. She sniffed again. ‘My presence makes a difference in the equation.’

‘Of course,’ David managed without losing his rhythm. ‘It’s at least as much of a turn-on to be sniffed as it is to be watched.’ The other two, with their mouths full, nodded and mmphed their agreement.

She turned to Paulo. ‘These three have done this before, haven’t they?’

Paulo nodded. ‘They have, yes.’

‘What are they, porn stars?’

All three of them laughed, Livinia nearly chocking on David’s cock.

‘No,’ Paulo said. ‘They’re not porn stars, and I’m not at liberty to say more at the moment.’

She backed to the foot of the bed and paced, watching the three in action. ‘If it’s a performance it’ll smell like a performance, and it smells like a performance to me.’

‘Jesus,’ Paulo said, running his hand through his hair. ‘What? Do you hang out on porn sets?’

‘I don’t have to hang out on porn sets to know when something is an act. The honesty, the edginess, the forbidden thrill of something is a scent unto itself. When the lion takes over the pride in the Serengeti and gets to fuck all the lionesses, the element of performance is that he gets to shag the ladies because he won the pride, and the way he won the pride is what makes him the one the ladies fuck.’ She nodded to the bed, where the three had stopped what they were doing to listen to her. ‘This is a strip club, this is a porn rerun,’ she said, waving a hand at the bed. ‘This is cheap cologne, not Martelli Fragrance. It just doesn’t smell right, though I get what you’re trying to do.’

‘What would you suggest?’ Paulo said, coming to her side and looking down at the three now sitting thoughtfully and half naked on the mattress.

Liza paced again, still sniffing and studying the three lovers. The she stopped and shoved her hands on her hips. ‘She’s not the main course in this scent fest.’ She pointed to Livinia. ‘She’s the intruder invited in to play.’

The three on the bed looked at each other, then back at her.

‘Were you going for a sandwich?’ she snapped her fingers as though trying to find a word. ‘Double penetration.’

They nodded.

‘That’s not how you picture it in your heads though, is it? It’s not what would really turn you on.’

Livinia spoke up. ‘It’s what we thought wouldn’t shock you too badly, and Paulo agreed.’

Paulo was surprised at Liza’s guttural laugh. ‘How about you don’t worry about shocking me? How about you concentrate on shocking each other?’

Paulo’s cock jerked in his trousers in a sudden surge of lust, and his respect for this woman skyrocketed as the light bulbs went on in the heads of the three on the bed. They shifted until they all three were lying down with Livinia in the middle. The two men began at the top of her head kissing and caressing, moving her hair away from her ears and stroking and licking down her sensitive nape in unison, almost as though one were the mirror image of the other. At her mouth, they both lingered, not taking turns, but jostling and shoving to try and take her at the same time. She reached out pulling them both to her and, as she did so, their hands snaked down her armpits and found their way to her anxious breasts in kneading, cupping strokes.

‘There,’ Liza breathed. Paulo could hear her pulse in her whisper. ‘Can you smell it? Can you smell the shift?’ He sniffed and sniffed again. He wasn’t sure that he could, but there was no denying something in the room had driven the lust up to sizzling. As he watched the two men pinch Livinia’s nipples to hard peaks, watched her grinding and shifting her ass into the mattress, he became aware of the heat of Liza’s body so close to his. The men kissed and licked down Livinia’s throat and collarbones and onto her breasts with such precision that is was almost like they’d read each other’s minds. Paulo felt that shift in the heaviness of his sac, made even heavier by the knowledge that, in the midst of it all, Liza smelled him too.

‘Can … Can I touch them?’ she asked.

‘Of course.’ If he could smell his own emotions, he wondered if there would be a tiny nip of jealousy in the air.

For a second, she stood at the side of the bed studying the situation and sniffing. Her eyes went from one man to the other, then she crawled onto the mattress. What happened next left Paulo breathless and fully, even painfully erect. With a sigh of frustration, she kicked off her pumps, hiked her pencil skirt up until she could spread her legs, and there was a collective gasp of surprise as she straddled Livinia. ‘Don’t stop what you’re doing,’ she ordered.

Paulo had never dreamed her to be the kind of person who would just hop right into the action, certainly not if all that he’d been told by her was true, so what the hell was going on?

As she wriggled her way up over Livi in an awkward knee walk, the men making room for her as she went, she paused just above her rib cage, and as the men laved sloppy kisses over her Livi’s breasts, Liza laid an open palm on the bare shoulder of each man and began to deliberately knead and massage in circular motions up toward their necks. They both moaned and shivered beneath her touch, and it was the little intuitive gasp from Livi that telegraphed what was to come. Paulo’s heart hammered, and his cock felt like it would shove its way through his trousers. Surely she wouldn’t. Surely she wasn’t bold enough. He held his breath as Liza’s hands paused to stroke each man’s hair, then snaked down and around to each man’s throat beneath their chins, lifting and shifting and making it just uncomfortable enough until she had forced the first touch of nose to nose then breath to breath. Lust did the rest as both men fairly shot to their knees, their mouths locking on each other in a deep, probing tongue kiss with the luscious sound of heavy breathing and wet against wet. Both men sighed, and Livi whimpered. Then she reached to fist their cocks and stroked them in unison. Liza inhaled a heavy gasp.

‘There, that’s better, that smells like unbridled lust, that smells like the place where the rule-breaking happens and it all gets good.’ Her last word ended in a sharp breath as the two kissing men enveloped her in arms that slid over her bottom and up under her skirt. Their mouths came to lave and lick each side of her neck as, in unison, their hands found her breasts. She managed a little yelp of surprise as one of Livi’s hands worked its way between her spread legs.

It was than that Paulo catapulted into action. He wrapped an arm around Liza’s waist and pulled her bodily off the bed and, though he hadn’t intended to do it, he caught her mouth, an open O of surprise, as she turned her head over her shoulder at his sudden invasion. Then she swallowed his breath as her tongue darted in and out against his and her arms came up over her head and around his neck. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware that the three on the bed had picked up where they left off, a little more frantically, a little more urgently. Or maybe it was his own urgency he felt. Eating at her mouth as though his life depended on it, the arm around her waist pulled her backward against his belly, and his splayed hand moved up to cup her breasts. She squirmed against him and gasped, and though her feet touched the floor, her legs didn’t engage. Still holding her against him, he pulled her onto his lap and onto the overstuffed chair near the bed, and they both began speaking breathlessly into each other’s mouth. ‘We can’t do this, we’re being watched,’ he managed just as she spoke.

‘We need to be able to smell them.’ She kissed him and pulled away, off his lap, shoving her skirt back in place. ‘We need to be able to smell them,’ she gasped again, and with an effort that felt like it ripped him open, she scrambled to the far side of the bed near the headboard. Her chest rose and fell as though she were about to hyperventilate. She closed her eyes and struggled for control, and fuck if he wasn’t more than half tempted to go grab her and take her right there next to the bed – fuck the experiment, fuck it all. Christ, he wanted her!

A few deep breaths and she once more focused her attention on the trio in the bed. David had thrust up into Livi’s pussy and Pietro knelt behind him, rubbing saliva over David’s anus with one hand. He spat onto his other and stroked his cock until it glistened in the subdued lighting, then he thrust home, and even Paulo could sense the edginess, the shift in scent. As far as he knew, these two men had never had any encounters that weren’t strictly hetero until now, but he was pretty sure Liza Calendar had just inadvertently opened a whole new vista of lust for them. His own cock ached under its heavy weight, and he struggled to concentrate.

‘It’s the edge,’ Liza said, breathing heavily. ‘It’s crossing boundaries and playing it a little dangerously, that’s the scent of sex Martelli needs to strive for. That’s the driving force, the creative force, and, God, it’s good. It’s so good.’

It was a domino effect with Livi coming first, driving her heels into David’s ribs, then David following suit, with Pietro pumping out his wad into David’s ass. Paulo watched stunned as Liza’s whole body quivered in sympathy. Dear God, she was coming! The scent alone was making her come. And Goddamnit, he wasn’t going to come in his trousers again like some teenage boy, but hell he was close.

‘That was amazing,’ she said. ‘Is there any paper to write on because there’s something that happens with a ménage that makes for a base note that’s not there when there are just two people, not that I’ve had that much experience, but it’s something different and it’s almost like someone is … Paulo? Paulo what are you doing?’

He ploughed around the bed and grabbed her arm, then he dragged her into the bathroom and slammed the door. ‘You know exactly what I’m doing. If you want me to think,’ he said, shoving his hand up her skirt and tugging the crotch of her panties aside until he could finger the swell of her. ‘Then you’re gonna have to help me out a little bit, because I’m way past thinking at the moment.’ He fumbled with the condom from his pocket and reintroduced his mouth to hers for the few prickly awkward seconds it took them to sheath him, then he lifted her against the wall, shifted his hips forward, and drove into her, both of them growling like wildcats. Her arms encircled his neck and her fist clenched at the back of his shirt until he could feel the gouge of her nails. The harder he thrust, the harder she took it and gave it right back, spurring her heals in his hips like he was a stallion she planned to ride and tame, and fuck if he didn’t believe she could do exactly that. It was over way too soon, but the need was too great, and they did have a job to do. He convulsed his load into her until he thought his back would break while she clenched his cock in the strangle hold of another orgasm. Then she kissed him hard. ‘Damn, you smell good,’ she whispered against his neck.

‘Damn, we smell good together,’ he managed between gasps for breath.

She laughed a low, raunchy chuckle. ‘You’re learning, Mr Delacour. You’re learning.’

Chapter Eleven

In spite of the late night past, Jim was in early. He’d just made himself coffee in the kitchen after yet another intimate session with his cock in the bathroom. And he hadn’t slept much. He just couldn’t get what he’d seen at The Mount’s villa out of his head. He’d known coming in what to expect. Coraline had given him the heads-up and told him that if he didn’t want to be a part of the very unconventional experiments for the new line, she would understand. But if he were actually going to earn his place at Martelli Fragrance and earn the respect of Coraline and Paulo, then he’d have to grow a pair. Coraline Martelli didn’t get where she was by playing it safe and with the competition being so stiff in the perfume industry, and considering the difficult situation Martelli Fragrance was dealing with, innovation was essential for survival. Still, he’d never expected anything so bold and brash. Beyond that he’d never expected straight-shooting Liza Calendar to roll up her sleeves, jump right on in, and take control of the situation.

‘She’s a natural, Dom,’ Coraline had said proudly when she’d viewed the video, with Jim sitting next to her blushing like a lobster and shifting from ass cheek to ass cheek hoping his boss wouldn’t notice his hard-on. When Coraline reached the part where Paulo had pulled Liza Calendar off the bed, she brought her fingers to her lips with a little sigh. ‘On the other hand, as well as she handles Paulo’s dominant streak, it’s more likely she’s a good switch.’ That had sent Jim scrambling to the internet later to find out what a switch was. Christ! Sometimes the world of The Mount scared the shit out of him, but most of the time it had him slapping the monkey until repetitive strain syndrome was a real concern. He’d been given an open invitation to check it out, but he hadn’t managed to get up the courage. He wanted to. He really did, but he supposed his Midwest upbringing was just prudish enough that he struggled with the idea of sex on demand with different, even multiple partners. Was too much of a good thing really even better? And why wasn’t he brave enough to find out? Jim resisted the urge to view the video again. He’d already watched it three times, and each time he’d ended up with his cock in his hand.

There was a soft knock on his door and Vera Bellini sauntered in. He tried not to notice how the round tops of her breasts played peekaboo from beneath the one-too-many open buttons of her siren-red blouse, but it was difficult when she laid a folder on his desk and leaned down until he could practically bury his face in her cleavage. She opened the folder. ‘I need these signed.’ She pointed an apple-coloured nail to where the document needed his signature, then offered a smile. ‘I’m filling in for Alessandro today. His mother’s having surgery – nothing life-threatening, but they’re close and he wanted to be there.’

‘Hope everything goes well,’ Jim mumbled, as he scribbled his signature, glad that she couldn’t see the swelling in the general area of his fly.

She leaned closer, her voice nearly an intimate whisper. ‘I don’t know what went on last night with Ms Martelli, but the woman’s actually smiling. Ear to ear.’ She batted her lashes at him and leaned a little closer. ‘You don’t see that very often. You have a meeting with her this morning, don’t you? Any idea what’s going on?’

‘If I told you, I’d have to kill you.’ He offered her his best James Bond smirk.

She responded with a wicked smile. ‘Well it must have been very good for business to make her smile like that. I’d love to have been a fly on the wall.’

She had no idea, Jim thought.

As she turned to go, she stopped at the door and stepped back to face him. ‘What does a girl have to do to get you to go out for coffee with her after work this evening?’

He blinked, and it took him half a second to realize he was staring at her with his mouth open. He quickly recovered and offered a lazy smile. ‘All a girl has to do is ask.’

‘Good,’ she said. ‘Consider yourself asked. I’ll stop back by your office say a little after five?’

‘I’ll be here,’ he said,’ leaning back in his chair as though he were suddenly king of the universe. To be honest, seeing the way Paulo had dragged Liza into the bathroom after last night’s session had left him a little discouraged. He’d been in Rome nine months now and hadn’t actually dated anyone. Though in all fairness, his position with Martelli Fragrance had an extremely steep learning curve, and it had only been in the last few weeks that he started to feel he had a handle on things enough to breathe, enough to consider at least some semblance of life outside Martelli. He considered a date for coffee with the very well-endowed Vera Bellini a great beginning.

Liza had been up since five. Though some of it was probably jet lag, most of it was the buzzing high that last night had given her. She’d not actually gotten to bed until two. Her mind had been too busy with ideas, with notes and observations about the night. She had written them up and sent them off to Coraline, Paulo, and Jim, and then from those notes she put together some thoughts and observations for the story she would do for High Rising. All that before she’d gone to bed. She’d had no idea what to expect, and would have probably opted out gracefully if she had, even though it was exactly the kind of experiment she would have dreamed up for the best way to link sex and fragrance. She was amazed at how easy it was to follow her intuition and her nose. In spite of the arousal such an atmosphere generated, she had not been nearly as uncomfortable as she would have thought – at least not once she let her nose take control.

The very literal climax, of course, was Paulo taking her in the bathroom against the wall. She couldn’t think about it without feeling the tension below her belly. God, the man smelled amazing, and he was right, they smelled amazing together. When she was unable to go back to sleep at five, she put on shorts and went out for a walk. She knew Paulo wouldn’t approve, but she loved the feel of the city when it slept, or came as close to sleeping as it ever did. She hadn’t showered when she got home last night. She couldn’t bear washing the smell of Paulo off her body, and after the walk, it was with a sigh of resignation that she’d showered and gotten ready for the early morning meeting at Martelli. She straightened her skirt as the lift closed and she ascended to the Executive Suites of the Martelli Building. Her heart did a somersault. This was not at all what she had expected of her time with Martelli Fragrance, but she was pretty sure no one turned down Coraline Martelli. And in all honesty, as intriguing as the situation and working with Paulo Delacour was, she didn’t want to.

‘Good morning, Ms Calendar.’ A woman who looked well turned out enough to be a movie star addressed Liza as she got off the elevator. ‘I’m Vera, and I’m filling in for Alessandro, Ms Martelli’s PA. If you’ll –’

‘I’ve got it, Vera. No worries. I’ll escort Ms Calendar in.’ The wave of lightning storm and forest floor scent arrived before Paulo as he emerged from the kitchen and motioned Liza inside. Even as the muscles in her stomach did their version of a happy dance, she didn’t miss the tang of displeasure that suddenly rolled off Vera’s perfect body, and there was definitely an undertone of acidic jealousy even though the woman offered both of them a cheerful smile.

‘Very well then. Let me know if there’s anything either of you need.’ She gave them both a little nod of her perfectly coiffed dark hair and turned to go, her very expensive, very high heels click-clicking on the marble floor as she went.

Before Liza had time to dwell much on Vera, Paulo nodded her into the small kitchen. ‘It was a short night. I need coffee,’ he said, as the mocha maker began to bubble out the elixir of life. ‘Want some?’

‘No thanks. I’ve already had enough to make a bull moose twitch.’

‘Then I would say you’re good for at least another cup. Everyone knows moose don’t handle their caffeine very well.’ He raised an eyebrow and nodded to the pot.

‘Well, OK, but only so you don’t have to drink alone.’

For a moment he went about the business of making and pouring coffee and the air felt tight with the mineral scent of awkwardness. Then he handed her a cup and his gaze became serious. ‘You all right?’

‘Yes! Yes, I’m fine. Still amazed by last night’s experience.’

He dropped his gaze to his coffee. ‘I gathered as much from the email with attachments that you sent out this morning at, what was it? Two thirty?’

Her laugh came out nervous and high-pitched. ‘And you were up at two thirty in the morning to receive it?’

‘Believe me,’ he said in a scuffed velvet voice that made him sound like he’d just gotten out of bed, ‘after experiencing you in action last night, I had a lot of things on my mind but sleep wasn’t one of them.’ The look he raked over her body was so brief anyone observing would have missed it, but she felt it from the crown of her head to the crotch of her panties and all the way to the tips of her toes. And she felt the aftermath of the blush that climbed her throat, but before she could respond, he spoke again. ‘I won’t even pretend that it was just because the experiment was … stimulating. And don’t you pretend you don’t smell me right now, because I sure as hell smell you.’ Like something predatory, he was in her personal space before she could do more than offer a soft gasp of surprise. Then he brushed a wisp of a coffee-scented kiss across her lips with just enough of an intimation of tongue that she’d have dropped her coffee cup if she’d not been close enough to the counter to set it down with an aromatic splash. His warm breath feathered across her throat and her neck until she could feel the heat of his lips against her ear as he whispered. ‘Coraline tells me I can fuck you if I want, as long as I get your nose to work for Martelli.’ Before she could protest, he ran fingertips along her bare arm leaving a trail of goose flesh. ‘I’ve got news for Coraline, I would do whatever it takes to stay close to that delicious nose of yours …’ his tongue flicked over the seashell hollow of her ear ‘… and the rest of the irresistible woman that goes with it.’

Oh for fuck sake, please say she didn’t just whimper. He stepped back, offered her a lazy cat-got-the-cream smile and handed her back her cup. ‘Best not keep Coraline waiting. She’s as anxious to talk about what you sniffed out last night as I am.’ He nodded toward the door.

On legs that were none too steady, she followed Paulo into a corner conference room with an incredible view of Bernini’s angels gracefully flanking the Ponte Sant’Angelo that spanned the Tiber to Castle Sant’Angelo and Vatican City beyond. Paulo motioned her to sit across from Jim, who blushed and offered an overly enthusiastic good morning. Clearly last night was as much of an eye-opener for him as it had been for her, and he wasn’t stupid: surely he knew exactly why Paulo had dragged her, more than willingly, off to the bathroom after their little experiment. Paulo sat down next to her just as the not-overly-happy-smelling Vera delivered coffee and the morning’s selection of Italian pastries. She was just about to sit down next to Jim when Coraline blew into the room looking like she’d just been shopping on the Via del Corso.

‘Vera, I need you to take care of a few items for me while I’m in this meeting. I emailed a list to your computer.’ The dirty dishwater smell of malcontent bloomed so strong with the woman’s own damp root scent that it nearly made Liza’s eyes water. And beneath that there was something basic, something acidic hidden under buttercream. She was always amazed that no one else could smell such strong swings of emotions. The look on the woman’s face didn’t change. She offered Coraline an enthusiastic smile and nodded her good-bye to everyone at the table. Truly, no one had noticed but Liza.

Everyone waited in silence until Coraline had opened her laptop, sipped her coffee, and carefully chosen a sweet roll, all of which she did as though she were completely alone in the room and in absolutely no hurry. She straightened her jacket of sea green linen, offered an angelic smile, and then turned her full attention on Liza, who suddenly felt like a rabbit in the headlights.

‘Liza Calendar, I know you’re still jet-lagged, and I am very aware of what jet-lag can do to one’s ability to focus and process information in a coherent way.’

Lisa felt heat rush to her face and her whole body tensed. Here it was, another person telling her that her olfactory sensitivity was really something she needed to see a shrink about because it was just a figment of her imagination. She tried not to clench her hands where they lay folded in front of her laptop. Beneath the table, Paulo move his thigh just enough to touch hers, an act that felt like the completion of a circuit, and the scent that peaked between them was electric. She held her breath as Coraline scrolled through her notes, shaking her head as she did so. In her mind’s eye, Liza was already slinking back to the Martelli flat to pack for the next flight home to Portland.

‘Yes, jet-lagged.’ Coraline spoke as much to herself as to anyone at the table. Then her gaze locked on Liza and held. ‘I can only imagine what brilliance you might have come up with if you’d been well-rested and if I hadn’t played the bitch and dumped such a shocker in your lap so unexpectedly. Liza, darling, this is bloody brilliant.’

There was a collective sigh as Coraline’s face broke into a broad smile and Liza nearly slid out of her chair from the sense of relief that rolled over her.

‘You didn’t waste any time, did you, Ms Calendar,’ she said. ‘And neither have we,’ she nodded to the two men who sat po-faced at the table looking down at their own laptops and the copies of the presentation. ‘I dare say we’ve had even less sleep than you last night, Liza. Scent excites us at Martelli, and what we observed with you last night excited us in the extreme.’ She nodded to Paulo and offered a wicked quirk of a smile, ‘Some of us more than others.’

Liza blushed, but Paulo only smiled to himself.

She continued. ‘I had Vera put together a couple of slides for us this morning just so we could all look at the plan and brainstorm together. But before I did that I called human resources who are liaising with my lawyers, here and in the States, to put together a contract for you.’ Before Liza could respond, Coraline raised a hand to stop her. ‘I know you run your own business, and I also know that your partner is quite capable of taking care of things on US end until we’re finished here. Also, as I’ve said before, I’m very happy for you to take a story away from your experience with Martelli, minus anything that involves The Mount, and Paulo will explain to you about The Mount later. Now …’ she ploughed forward without asking if Liza would accept Martelli’s offer. ‘… here’s the plan. Feel free to suggest any improvements.’ She pulled up the first slide, and in typical Coraline Martelli fashion, steamrolled right on in to the main event.

‘The business of scent is the business of attraction. I believe you said something to that effect last night, Liza, though a little bit more crudely. Attraction is the path to sex, and there has never been a point when the scents humans add to their own scent hasn’t ultimately been for the purpose of attraction – and sex. Paulo has been saying all along that we need to approach the new line more from that basic premise, and watching you in my office and then at the villa last night has convinced me he’s right.’

She flipped to the next slide. ‘Based on your report and what we could observe, these are the scents we’ll be looking to create for Martelli’s new line. They’ll either be unisex or we’ll create scents for both sexes, depending on what your nose thinks is best.’ The slide read:

1. Romantic vanilla
2. Dom
3. sub
4. Kink
5. Wild animal/al fresco

She gave Liza a chance to take them in then said, ‘Of course we’ll have better names for them, but these are the scents we’re looking for, especially in the brave new world that’s obsessed with BDSM and kink.’ Once again she gave Liza no time to respond. ‘You said last night, in your report and while you were in the room with the trio from The Mount that it was the edgy, kinky scent of sex that would attract people, like the practice of a woman dabbing a bit of her own scent on her pulse points when she spends time with a man with whom she hopes to have sex. By changing and rearranging our ménage as you did last night, especially in the way you did, you changed the scent. After you left, a team collected the clothing, the bedding, and the towels used to clean up after sex. Everything was then bagged and taken to our labs to analyze for corresponding scents. What I need to know from you, Ms Calendar, what we all need to know from you, is if you can help us set conditions and come up with the right sexual combinations to reproduce, in our research facility, the basic olfactory and pheromonal building blocks for the scents we’ve listed.’

When no one spoke, when all eyes were on her, Liza took a deep breath, smelling the mix of excitement and anticipation in the room with just a nip of doubt thrown in to keep her on her toes. ‘You want me to sniff people having sex to help you create perfumes that will generate similar responses?’

Everyone nodded in unison.

There was a tightness in her chest at what was actually being expected of her, and her own scent smelled of fire freshly kindled. ‘I can sniff out all of these things. I can walk down any street in any city and pick up intimations of all of what you’re looking for in the new line and more besides, but I have no idea how to go about orchestrating a sexual encounter to offer the results you want, nor how to create fragrances that correspond.’

‘We can orchestrate it.’ This time it was Paulo who spoke. ‘That won’t be a problem. And of course we don’t expect you to know how to create the corresponding fragrances. That’s our job. What we need to know is if you can come up with ideas for who and how and under what circumstances we might elicit the desired effects. The rest we can teach you. You said it yourself that while last night was a good idea, it wasn’t the way you would have set it up, and you changed it. All right, Ms Calendar, what we’re asking is for you to plan it, for you to tell us what your nose tells you needs to happen in order for us to create a base for these five fragrances.’

Again all eyes were on her. ‘You have Martelli’s full resources behind you, Liza,’ Coraline said. ‘We’re all very excited about this line, a line which would be nearly impossible to do without some serious innovation, a good deal of which will involve your nose and your intuition. Can you do it?’

Liza stared at the list of future fragrances still up on the slide and felt her pulse quicken as ideas flashed through her head. ‘How much access will I have to … well to people I need to do stuff like what the ménage did last night?’

‘Unlimited,’ Coraline said. She nodded to the slide. ‘Whatever you need. You’ll have. Can you do it?’ She asked again.

Liza’s mind was racing. This was outrageous. This was insane, and yet she already had ideas flooding into her brain about how to elicit just the right scents that would drive each fragrance. She released a shaky breath. ‘Yes. I can do it.’

There was a collective sigh of relief, and she felt Paulo’s thigh press tighter against hers.

‘Good,’ Coraline said. ‘Paulo can see that whatever resources you need are yours for the asking, and he’ll take you back to The Mount’s villa tonight, introduce you to the players, and help you understand what The Mount is all about. Oh, and there will be a non-disclosure you’ll have to sign for the protection of The Mount, but it shouldn’t interfere with your article. Of course, the Bernini flat is yours for the duration. And I trust you’ll find the salary and the benefits more than adequate. You can talk to human resources about that when we’re finished here. And –’ she reached into her briefcase which sat on the chair next to her, and pulled out a Kindle in a blue leather cover. ‘I don’t know if you read erotica, Liza, but if you don’t, now would be a good time to start. I’ve taken the liberty of downloading some classics, some of my favourites and some favourites of the people at The Mount. Anything else you want to add to your erotic research library, feel free to, at Martelli’s expense, of course.’ She handed the Kindle to Liza. Liza had her own and she did have quite a stash of erotica. With her lack of a love life due to her sensitive nose, erotica had been about as close as she got to hot sex before Paulo.

‘Also, I’ve had a good collection of porn added to the entertainment library in the flat, though you probably won’t have time to watch it, you might find it handy for inspiration.’

Liza struggled to get her head around the idea of being paid and housed in a luxury flat in Rome to watch porn, read erotica, and orchestrate … well orchestrate great-smelling sex. Surely she must still be asleep in her cramped coach seat on the plane dreaming about the delicious-smelling man from the lounge that she would never meet again. Surely her brain was just compensating for her total lack of a sex life and for the royal fuck-up that had been her almost-relationship with Carl. She would have pinched herself, but as the stroking and kneading of Paulo’s hand against her thigh made her scent rise up and wrap around his like an intimate embrace, she decided if she were dreaming, she sure as hell didn’t want to wake up any time soon.

‘I’ll leave you in Paulo’s quite capable hands,’ Coraline didn’t even try to hide the knowledge that she knew exactly what that meant. ‘He knows Martelli as well as I do, and he’s on the High Council at The Mount, much to his chagrin.’ She offered him a smile, and Liza warmed to the growl at the back of his throat. If she didn’t get out of here soon, she was going to push back her chair and straddle the man, and surely that wasn’t a very good way to influence the boss. But then again, the boss had turned her over to her dominatrix head of security and then taken her to witness a small orgy last night and asked her to sniff it out with running commentary. It was very quickly becoming evident that Martelli Fragrance did not follow the typical business model.

Chapter Twelve

Liza’s office at Martelli was far nicer than the rented space above a law firm from which she and Addie ran High Rising. She worked for several hours brainstorming and putting together ideas for the sexy scents Martelli had in mind for its new line. Then Jim picked her up and took her for a tour of the research facilities, dropping her back at her flat a little before five. There was another message on her BlackBerry from Carl, whom she had nearly forgotten about between the excitement of what was happening at Martelli and the heat generating between her and Paulo. In the phone message, he’d had the balls to mention that since they hadn’t been having sex, he wasn’t sure if they even had a relationship – though he wanted one, he’d added quickly. She couldn’t argue that there’d been little between them to begin with, and a relationship with the man was now the last thing she wanted. Cursing under her breath, she decided it was time to gut it up and take care of the situation for good. She returned his call and was surprised, but more than a little relieved, when she got only his voicemail.

‘Hi Carl. Sorry I haven’t returned your calls. I’ve been really busy, and I didn’t want to talk to you. You’re right, of course. There was no real commitment between us, and since I wasn’t giving you what you needed, I can’t blame you for seeking it elsewhere.’ It was surprisingly easy to tell him politely to fuck off. She thought she sounded rather eloquent really. She continued. ‘What happened the other night was just a wake-up call for me to realize that it was never going to work for us, and it was time to admit it. I wish you all the best, really, I do, and I have no hard feelings. Let’s just let bygones be bygones and get on with our lives.’ She broke the connection, relieved that she didn’t actually have to talk to him, knowing that he would have argued, and she really didn’t want an argument breaking her focus right now.

That done, she looked at her watch, then mentally figured the time difference between Rome and Portland and decided it was late enough to Skype Addie.

Her friend’s image appeared on the monitor, short red hair spiked and wet from the shower. ‘Hi sweetie,’ she said with a bright smile. ‘What’s going on between you and Carl?’

Leave it to Addie to get right to the point. So she returned the favour. ‘I broke it off. Found him banging some bimbo on the kitchen counter and realized at the end of the day, I really didn’t care who he shagged as long as it wasn’t me.’

Addie offered a sage nod. ‘So it was him making you sneeze and not the vicious New York City pollen and leaf mould you’d been blaming. Garbage usually makes me sneeze too.’ Her eyes sparkled with sympathetic anger. ‘Follow your nose, hon. That’s what you always told me. The bastard’s been making it sound like everything is rosy when he’s called me asking about you. I sort of felt like something was wrong.’ She leaned into the monitor and studied Liza. ‘You don’t look any worse for the wear, sweetie. What’s going on?’

Liza couldn’t help it. She blushed. ‘I met A.P. Delacour.’

‘Yes, well I’m not surprised. I mean he is the heir apparent at Martelli.’ Her bright blue eyes suddenly widened and her mouth became a round O of understanding. ‘Oh. Oh! You mean you met A.P. Delacour.’ She wiggled her eyebrows. Then swallowed back a ‘Fuuuuck!’ when Liza only nodded slightly.

‘Paulo,’ Liza said. ‘He goes by Paulo.’

‘And how does he smell?’

Only a good friend would ask such a question. Liza rolled her eyes and sighed. ‘Heaven couldn’t possibly smell better than he does.’

‘Details, girl! I want details.’ Addie was practically vibrating in her chair.

‘I don’t have time for details right now. I have to get ready. He’s picking me up. But …’ she leaned closer to the monitor, and her face nearly hurt from the huge smile ‘… it appears I’m going to be working for Martelli in quite a different capacity than the interview I’d expected. Martelli Fragrance wants to hire my nose.’ With that she filled in her friend as much as she could without too much detail, understanding as she did, the edginess of what they were about to do. Addie assured her that she could take care of High Rising until Liza’s consulting with Martelli was finished. Before she said goodbye, she made her promise a long Skype sesh with details about the very heavenly smelling Paulo Delacour. Still smiling as she closed her laptop, Liza headed in to take advantage of the swimming pool-sized Jacuzzi bath before she got ready to meet Paulo for their outing to The Mount’s villa.

Instead of meeting Vera in his office, Jim met her at the café around the corner from the Martelli Building. He was late getting back from the research facility due to traffic. Clearly she’d had time to go home and change. She wore a pale yellow sundress that hugged her dangerous curves and contrasted beautifully with her golden skin, of which it showed plenty

‘I’m very upset with you,’ she said with a full-lipped pout that begged to be kissed. ‘You took Liza Calendar to visit the research facility and you didn’t take me.’ She took his hand and pulled him through the back of the coffee shop to a postage stamp sized courtyard where a small fountain tinkled cheerfully amid a tiny garden of cyclamen in varying shades of red. They had barely settled when the waiter delivered two lattes. ‘I hope you don’t mind,’ she said, ‘but I took the liberty of ordering for us. Since I’m substituting for Alessandro. I know what everyone drinks.’ She settled in at a tiny table and he sat down across from her

‘I didn’t know you wanted to see the research facility,’ he said, focusing on the packets of sugar and his coffee rather than the mounds of her breasts, which rose and fell with each breath above the thin fabric of her dress, completely unrepentant of the brazen press of erect nipples.

‘Of course I want to see the facility,’ she said, offering him a flirty smile. ‘But even more importantly, I want you to show it to me.’ She leaned across the table, her eyes locked on his, though surely she had to know that it was taking all of his self-control to keep his gaze off her exposed frontage. Then she laughed almost shyly and sat back in her chair. ‘What does a girl have to do to get you to pay attention to her, Jim? I thought about a striptease on the top of your desk after mail delivery, but I like my job, and I don’t want to get fired.’

If Jim’s cock wasn’t already paying full attention, it certainly was now. He settled his cup onto the table and shifted in his seat. ‘Well either you were very subtle or I am extremely obtuse.’ He shrugged. ‘Granted that’s a real possibility, because if I’d had any idea you were interested I’d have made sure you had my full attention.’ His last word ended in a little grunt as she settled a bare foot into his lap and wriggled her toes, offering him an open-mouthed what-do-you-think-of-that sort of look.

Then she giggles wickedly. ‘I see I have your full attention now, Jim Dryer.’

‘I’d say so, yes.’ The yes sounded like a snake hissing as she ran her toes up and down the length of his cock in kneading little grabs that were amazingly agile for a foot.

As if she’d read his thought she whispered. ‘Unzip your trousers, Jim. Let me show you just how talented my feet really are.’

He didn’t even think twice. With one hand he unzipped and worried his distended penis free from the breach while the other stroked her gripping foot.

‘You’re big,’ she breathed. ‘I knew you were. I could tell by the way your trousers ride against your package.’ The warm bare skin of her feet moved up and down his shaft. The smile she offered him was almost shy. ‘I’ve made more than a few trips to the ladies room to take care of myself while thinking about that hefty package of yours.’ She bit her lip and gasped, and for a minute her stroking of his cock became awkward. He could tell she was shifting to get a hand up under her dress. When she made contact, her eyelids fluttered and she whimpered, ‘Mmm, I can’t tell you how wet you make me, Jim. Shall I show you my tits? I know you’re dying to look at them, but you’re always the polite one, aren’t you? Always all business and focus.’ Without waiting for the response he wasn’t sure he had the brains left to give, she pushed down the straps of her dress and let her breasts tumble into plain view. Her nipples were dark and heavy against the puckered rise of her areolae and, even though he couldn’t imagine it possible, when she pinched and tweaked them between her thumb and forefinger, they got still bigger.

‘I’m going to do better than treat you to coffee, Jim,’ she said, sucking her bottom lip and offering a little moan. She rode her fingers with a jerk and grind that shivered up through her breasts. ‘I’m going to give you dessert too. And then –’ she stood up straight to give him just a glimpse of her fingers darting in and out of her pantyless crotch ‘– I’ll take you back to my place for the main course.’ She slipped under the table and in less than a heartbeat, his cock that had responded so deliciously to her long, agile toes was being deep throated in a grip that had him squirming and clenching all over the seat. If she’d left him any brain cells that weren’t focused on what she was doing under the table, he might have been worried about the waiter finding them in a compromising position, but she hadn’t planned to linger, and it didn’t take long before he reared back in the chair and unloaded into her hard-working mouth with her swallowing and sucking for all she was worth.

When she finally came up for air, she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and offered a wicked smile. ‘Now, how about we head over to my place, Jim, and you can tell me all about the research facility … or maybe we’ll just do a little research of our own.’ She plopped several euro down on the table and reached for his hand, with him still tucking and smoothing as they walked back through the café.

Chapter Thirteen

Paulo had told Liza it would be a formal gathering in the gardens of the villa. She hadn’t packed anything formal, but somehow, as if by magic, she had returned to Bernini Place to find a red gown that shimmered like sun-kissed cherries. It displayed the tops of her breasts like soft, round fruit cupped by a tight bodice, which accentuated her waist and caressed the flair of her hips and bottom. It was slit deliciously high up her right thigh. Whoever had done the personal shopping for her not only got her size spot-on, but made sure that all the accessories were included in the ensemble. Ms Martelli had even sent her own personal hairdresser. Though Liza seldom wore her hair up in anything more elaborate than a ponytail, she had to admit, the simple chignon showcased her cheekbones and her long neck. She thought she’d cleaned up rather nicely. The look Paulo gave her when he arrived at the flat, along with the spicy surge in his scent told her he heartily agreed. He picked her up in a midnight blue Porsche, but she barely noticed the car when the man driving it was positively edible in a tux that looked like it had been made for him, which no doubt it has been.

He drove the Porsche like it was an extension of his own body, as once again they headed out of Rome and onto the winding road leading to Tivoli. His running commentary on Roman history and the quarrying of travertine in the area said less about his own nervousness than the citrus note that now capped his scent. That he was nervous did little to calm the citric spike of her own nerves. ‘Not everyone will be there tonight,’ he said. ‘But you’ll meet some of the people who’ll be participating in our little experiments, and you’ll meet the people in charge.’

‘Coraline mentioned that you were a member of The Mount’s High Council.’

He offered her a quick flash of a smile that seemed to take some effort, and the flint and steel spark of irritability shot through his scent.

‘Fidelia’s now the head of the High Council,’ he said. ‘That role changes every four years so that too much power isn’t concentrated in the hands of one person. Fidelia’s good in the position.’ He gave her a quick glance as he downshifted onto the road leading to the villa.

‘And you?’

‘I’m only on the council because I couldn’t get out of it.’

‘I take it you’re not pleased with the position.’

‘I don’t consider myself very well suited for it, that’s all.’

She slid sideways in her seat and studied him as the Porsche hugged the curves of the mountain road. ‘You’re a natural leader, Paulo, or you wouldn’t be the heir apparent to Martelli Fragrance.’

‘I’m the heir apparent because I have a good nose and I have a good sense for the business. The Mount, well that’s a completely different animal. You’ll understand once you’ve been introduced.’ It almost sounded like she would be having an audience with the pope.

This time the front of the villa was lit with fairy lights, and expensive cars were being driven away by liveried valets after they disgorged the beautiful people from their posh interiors. Liza’s stomach knotted, and she was glad that Paulo couldn’t smell her nerves. She certainly could. As they approached the entrance, he rested a warm hand on her thigh and offered a reassuring smile. ‘Don’t worry, Liza, you’re fabulous, and everyone will know that the second they see you.’ Perhaps the man’s nose was better than she thought. But then again, it probably didn’t take an ace sense of smell to figure out that she was nervous. Paulo shooed the valet away from Liza’s door and opened it himself, offering her his hand as she struggled out of the low seat less gracefully than she would have liked. Thanks to Paulo, no one saw her awkwardness around the mantling of his body.

A man who could have passed for a model in his coat and tails and air-brush-perfect black hair handed each of them a flute of prosecco and led them through a long tiled corridor out into a Renaissance garden that surely rivaled the Villa d’Este. Fountains like tumbling streams banistered the wide travertine steps that descended into the terraced garden below. At the end of each terrace, the water spilled down into the next around sculptures of lovers in a whole Kama Sutra of positions, but with that same Bernini attention to detail. Though the statuary seemed to have no effect on Paulo’s scent, surely he must be able to tell that it was heating hers up nicely. At the bottom of the steps, he led her into a topiary maze that made her pulse race as it twisted and curved back on itself until she could never find her way back through without his help. And just when she was about to ask him if he was certain he knew where they were going, the maze opened through an arch of shrubbery. There in the middle of a richly mosaicked patio surrounded by the same type of banister fountains that flanked the travertine steps, was a stone dining table, long and slender. At one end, dressed in rich black silk that caressed her full breasts like a second skin, sat Fidelia.

‘Ah, our guest has arrived,’ she said, offering a smile that was warm enough, but not without the wicked edge Liza had experienced in the basement at Martelli Fragrance.

Paulo cupped Liza’s elbow and guided her to stand in front of the table on which a rich array of antipasti had been served up. ‘Fidelia and David, you know,’ Paulo said. She noticed the man who had been in the ménage last night sat opposite her dressed in a black tux not unlike the one Paulo wore. ‘And you know Alessandro.’ Liza was surprised to find Coraline Martelli’s PA smiling broadly at her in an immaculate grey tux with tails. ‘Lucia.’ He introduced a delicate-boned woman in flounces of pastel taffeta and lace, who looked like she might have just returned from the Land of Fairy, but the scent of her was slightly metallic and charcoal sharp, and Liza knew immediately that the tiny woman was the most dangerous of all to play with. It was clear from her scent that she really wanted to play with the fresh meat Paulo had brought. ‘Coraline, of course you know. She’s not here at the moment and I don’t know where Angelo is.’

‘Last I saw he was playing in the dungeon,’ the fairy queen said without taking her hungry gaze off Liza.

‘No surprise there, Luci,’ David said, adding his own raking gaze across Liza. The scent of metal and heat that rose around the table felt predatory, even in its blending of cinnamon and nutmeg curiosity and the coriander smell of skepticism.

‘Tell me, how do I smell?’ The fairy queen asked, leaning over until her small breasts were visible all the way to large cherry-licorice nipples.

‘You smell like you’d like to catch me and eat me in the corner of the garden, bones and all.’

The whole table went silent. Christ, when was she going to learn to keep her mouth shut?

Then David broke into a raucous laugh and everyone else at the table followed suit, including the fairy queen. ‘She’s got your scent all right, Luci,’ he said.

Luci pushed back her chair and moved around the table in a swish, swish of taffeta to stand in front of Liza. ‘Tell me, Ms Nose, if I could smell you as well as you can smell me, would I smell nerves?’ She brought her nose to rest against the pulse point of Liza’s neck, an effort which had her standing on the tippy-toes of her bare feet with one hand resting on Liza’s shoulder for balance. Then she inhaled with a sigh. ‘Or perhaps I’d smell fear. Or maybe something a little sweeter?’ Her hand slipped off Liza’s shoulder to cup her breast, which she kneaded before giving Liza’s straining nipple a hard pinch.

‘You’d probably smell a good mix of all three,’ Liza managed with a hiss of breath between her teeth.

‘And you can smell us all, Ms Calendar?’ The woman asked, walking behind her trailing fingers around and down until they rested low on Liza’s belly. Her hot breath smelled of fennel and seaweed against Liza’s neck. Next to her, Paulo’s scent thickened with protective iron and heat.

‘Would you like me to go around the table and sniff everyone for you?’ Liza sounded much calmer than she felt. And she certainly wouldn’t have to sniff everyone to get their scents. They were all that obvious. But she didn’t tell the fairy queen that. Besides, getting past the jitters was less of a challenge with so many intriguing smells.

‘Maybe later,’ the woman said in a breathy voice. ‘For now, sit down and eat, and let us get to know you.’ She led Liza back around the table and pulled out a chair between her and David, forcing Paulo to sit across from her. Liza could tell by his scent he wasn’t happy about that. Without asking her what she wanted, the fairy queen began filling the plate in front of her with succulent treats. Then, with her fingers she picked up a ripe, juicy olive and shoved it between Liza’s lips. ‘There, darling, isn’t that nice,’ she said. ‘David and Fidelia have both told us about their experiences with your magnificent nose. And, of course, Paulo’s experiences, as much as we know of them, have been whispered amongst us in hushed tones, so I think we can safely assume we know more about you than you do about us.’

‘So what is The Mount then, some sort of fetish sex club?’ Liza managed before Paulo growled at her response, and the fairy queen stuffed a piece of basil and tomato bruschetta into her mouth. Liza bit and gnawed and chewed like mad struggling to maintain good table manners. There was a titter of laughter around the table.

‘So Paulo really has kept his mouth shut about us?’

Liza nodded and covered her overly-full mouth.

‘No one knows anything about The Mount unless they’re members, or have special dispensation, and you fall into the latter category, darling,’ Fidelia said, her eyes locked on Liza’s mouth as though she found the mastication fascinating.

‘I suppose you could say we’re a fetish club, but a sex cult would be more accurate, though probably no less offensive to the ears of the uninitiated, or to Paulo,’ the fairy queen said. Paulo growled again. Then she held a glass of wine up to Liza’s lips and slapped her hands away when she attempted to take it for herself. As Liza gave up the battle and leaned forward to take the drink, the fairy queen tipped it just a little too much, sending a cascade of primitivo sluicing down into Liza’s cleavage. ‘Oh dear. How clumsy of me,’ she said, making a groping effort to wipe up the spill with a thick linen napkin.

If looks could kill, the look Paulo sent the woman would have been fatal, but he said nothing, only turned to Liza and offered an apologetic grimace. ‘Come on, I’ll show you where the ladies room is so you can clean up.’

‘Not necessary, Paulo.’ Fidelia raised a hand. ‘Sylvia can show her. There’s business we need to sort, and we don’t want to bore poor Liza.’ She nodded to a tiny woman in a miniscule French maid’s uniform with masses of dark hair tucked up under a lacy cap. She offered Liza a bright smile and motioned her to follow. Paulo nodded reassuringly.

It hadn’t taken Liza long to clean herself. Very little of the wine had actually gotten on the gown. Most had splashed across her neck and cleavage. She had immediately dismissed the maid, promising that she could find her own way back to the table. In truth, she wasn’t in any real hurry to do so. She figured Paulo would be discussing with them The Mount’s willingness to help with his little experiment and, apparently those at the table, minus Coraline Martelli and this Angelo person, made up the High Council – whatever the hell that meant.

She took her time freshening up, and decided that with Fidelia dismissing her so the council could talk business, and with the glorious full moon, it was a perfect night to explore the villa’s exquisite renaissance garden. Of course there was a grotto. Every renaissance garden had a grotto, but as she approached it, the watery smell of the fountain that cascaded over its secret depths and the smell of the lush greenery all around were subsumed in the scent of sex. Though Liza could hear only the sound of running water, which drowned out the sounds of pleasure, the scent was unmistakable, so she turned away, not wanting to interrupt the fun. She felt her own heat kindle inside the lacy red thong as she recalled the fairy queen’s declaration that The Mount was a sex cult. Did she really think that would somehow appall Liza? Liza could think of no place better to study the scents of attraction and arousal, nor could she think of any place where Paulo might better recruit the help they would need to generate just the right scents for the five new perfumes Martelli was planning.

She had not been led back through the maze when Sylvia had shown her to the ladies room, so it would be no hardship to find her way back to Paulo and the council when the time came and, since she wasn’t anxious to be scrutinized further, she continued her explorations. The place was a pornographic version of the Villa d’Este, with each sculpture and each fountain a little naughtier than the one before. There were fountains with broad-chested, muscular-assed men with their faces buried in water gushing pussies of full-breasted, round-hipped women. There were threesomes in every combination imaginable doing every thing imaginable. There were scenes of seduction from Greek mythology, complete with pornographic detail lacking in all other artistic representations Liza had ever seen. As she wound her way amid the fountains and the foliage, the scent of sex blended into the rising night in nooks and crannies and hidey-holes that she was sure were designed especially for such encounters. Overhead an owl trilled and the grunt of an orgasm filtered from behind a flowering shrub. Even the heady scent of its blossoms couldn’t block out the moment of release. To avoid having to walk around a couple in mid-fuck on the edge of one of the stone benches, she turned behind a sculpture of a very well-endowed satyr who was about to bury his cock in the exposed pussy of a startled young woman. It was then that she realized not only had she come to the stone wall that surely must delineate the edge of the garden, but she was also lost. She looked around for the travertine steps, hoping that she could see them from a distance and somehow make her way around the outer edge of the maze, but the foliage was too high and the corner of the garden in which she now found herself was too dark. Retracing her steps to where she thought she had left the couple mid-fuck, she had hoped her nose would lead her back to the centre of the garden where the council was meeting. She didn’t want Paulo to worry.

Somehow she ended up by a fountain of Psyche and Eros in a far more erotic embrace than any she had ever seen depicted. Opposite the fountain was a stone archway with a heavy wooden door standing open. There was a light shining from inside. As she drew nearer, she could see that the door led down a set of worn travertine steps. Clearly the wall, the door and the steps were older than the rest of the villa, but then everything had its roots in antiquity in Italy. The light from the depths was an orange glow that danced like firelight. The steps were steep and the maw beneath the wall looked anything but inviting. Liza would have turned and tried another path if not for the scent of sex emanating from the depths. But it was more than just the scent of sex. It was the scent of lots of sex. It was almost like the history of sex written in stone. Trying to sip little gulps of the olfactory feast, as though she feared she might disturb any occupants, she tiptoed closer. The scent of deep earth permeated the air, the scent at the boundary where soil and growth give way to bedrock and cavern. From below she was almost certain she heard a moan. It was followed by the sharp scents of flint and steel and sulphur, of that first spark of fire against dry twigs. It was sex as she had never smelled it, and though she knew she shouldn’t, though she knew she should find her way back to the council meeting, her feet moved forward almost as though they had a mind of their own, and slowly, carefully, she made her way down the worn steps, bracing her hand against the dry cool stone of the wall.

She descended one flight and the steps curved back under themselves, going deeper. She could hear the sound of dripping water, more irregular than the tinkling of the fountains. She reckoned the steps had turned back into the grounds beneath the villa. There were sconces along the wall that flickered with gas lighting. It wasn’t difficult to see her path, but it wasn’t easy either. She had just begun the second flight of steps when there was a sharp crack of sound and someone cried out. She covered her own mouth to hold back a yelp, but the covering of her mouth meant that her nose took the scent deep into her sinuses, and the scent was marshy thick, mineral water sharp, laced with the tide pool of female heat. There was another crack, another moan and the deep rumble of a man’s voice, too muffled for her to understand, but by the tone of his voice and by the sharp metal scent of his arousal, there was no missing the fact that he was in charge.

As she descended the second flight of steps, she could smell old leather, heavy perspiration, and other wet smells that made her heart pound in her chest, that made her own wet smell sharp-edged and anise seeded with just a touch of wet metal fear, and enough cinnamon and cloves of curiosity to push her forward. She knew where she was, as sure as she knew her own name. This was the dungeon. It had to be. As the stairs gave way to uneven stone floor, the room opened into a cavernous space, the smell of which was so overwhelming that Liza’s knees gave from under her and she dropped onto the last of the steps, both hands tight across her mouth to hold back the gasp.

Chapter Fourteen

In the centre of the room was a bed that was more like a wooden rack. On it lay a woman cuffed spread-eagle and silenced by the ball gag in her mouth. She wore only black stockings and a black corset that forced her breasts up high and tight. Her hips had been elevated by something that didn’t look soft enough to be a pillow, but it ensured that her pussy was exposed and open at the perfect angle for penetration. From the scent, she was more than ready for the man kneeling between her legs, leather trousers pulled down to expose his red-welted ass and his very heavy erection. From a wooden table next to the bed, he took a string of hefty anal beads from a selection of dildos and butt plugs arranged on black velvet, then he leaned forward and eased the beads one at a time into her well-lubricated anus.

It was only when Liza found the strength to get to her feet and tiptoe into the room that she got the whole picture. The flint and steel male heat, the driving force of the olfactory story unfolding before her nose was not the man kneeling between the woman’s legs, but another man, a man sitting in a ladder-back chair, turned front to back so that his long jean-clad legs were splayed on either side. His feet were bare and he was naked from the waist up. His face was silhouetted and lost in shadow. His tattooed, muscular arms were draped over the back of the chair as he surveyed the couple on the bed. ‘Hold your wad, Vittorio,’ he called out. ‘You’ll come when I say you can come, when I say Chiara can come. Maybe I’ll let her come and make you hold it. I wonder just how full your sac will get, just how hard your cock will get if I make you watch me fuck her. Hmmm?’

Crack! The end of the bullwhip that Liza hadn’t noticed in the man’s hand snapped out so quickly and so perfectly controlled across Vittorio’s bare ass that Liza didn’t have time to force back her cry.

‘Stop!’ The man said as she turned to run. And in spite of the hair raising along the back of her bare neck, in spite of the fear tightening her belly in a cold metal clench, she obeyed.

‘Ask Vittorio how the whip across his bare ass feels before you consider running.’ He said all of that without looking at her, but Vittorio’s eyes and the wide mascara-darkened eyes of Chiara were on her.

She stood unmoving. It was not the scent of fear rising from her pores that made her knees weak. It was the forest fire inferno of lust rolling off the man in the chair in waves that were nearly physical.

‘Come here,’ he said, still not looking at her.

Did lust always overcome fear? She didn’t know, but it certainly seemed to be doing just that for her as she moved in steps she was hardly aware of toward the man with the whip, sniffing as she went.

‘In this dungeon, I’m the audience, woman. I don’t need any help with that task.’ He still hadn’t looked at her. His grip on the handle of the whip tightened, but the cinnamon scent of his curiosity curled itself around the inferno of lust, and she knew he wouldn’t hit her, at least not just yet. ‘Liza Calendar, I presume,’ he said, still toying with the handle of the bullwhip.

‘Yes.’ Her voice came out rough and throaty as though she had forgotten how to use it.

He threw back his head and laughed, having no trouble finding the resonant fullness of his own voice. In the flickering light of the wall sconces his hair looked like burnt copper, curled around his ears and low on his neck in the dampness of his own dark wood-scented perspiration. ‘At last I meet the one everyone is speaking of in hushed tones, the Nose.’ Before she could respond, his arm darted out and snaked around her, pulling her down on his knee into the heat of his body. ‘So tell me, Nose, what do you smell?’ Before she could say anything, his hand fisted in her hair, and he pulled her to his mouth, nipping at her lips until they opened, until his tongue could battle its way in and steal her breath. When he pulled away, breathing hard enough for both of them, he said again. ‘What do you smell?’

‘I smell burnt sugar and the spark just before a flame, and smoke on dark wood. I smell dry summer earth and cloves and sunbaked grass. I smell –’

He kissed her again, and lifted her in one arm while he shifted the chair around with the other, making a loud scrape of wooden legs against stone before he shoved up her skirt and settled her astraddle the heavy press of his hard-on through his jeans. ‘My nose may not be as sophisticated as yours, but I smell your pussy,’ he said, rocking and raking himself up against the crotch of panties she knew were wet. He dropped his face into her cleavage and bit. ‘And I smell your lust.’ Then as if she weighed nothing he shifted her around so that she still sat on his lap but she could see the couple on the bed in front of them.

‘Chiara, Vittorio, this is Liza Calendar, Martelli Fragrance’s new nose, and I think it would be really welcoming of us if we let her smell you two fucking, don’t you?’

They both nodded, wide-eyed.

‘Leave the beads in her little asshole, Vittorio. You know our Chiara likes to have all of her holes filled.’ Liza watched as the man grabbed Chiara by her hips and shoved home. She uttered a stifled cry into the ball gag and Liza could see tears making mascara-blackened tracks out the corner of her eyes and down her face. As the two began to fuck, the man beneath Liza shifted and rocked against the damp crotch of her panties until she could feel the shape of his hard-on rubbing a wet trough between her labia. She had hardly been aware of her own shifting and rocking until his heavy hand moved up under her the slit of her gown and began stroke and tweak her clit.

‘Don’t. Please don’t,’ she whispered. ‘I’m here with someone.’

‘From what I could see, that didn’t matter much when you were with Fidelia. Oh yes, I was watching the action, lovely Liza. That’s what the cameras are for. Maybe you’d prefer that I turn you over my knee and spank you. Hmm? You did come into my dungeon uninvited after all.’

‘If Ms Calendar is going to get spanked, it’ll be me doing the spanking.’ Paulo’s scent cut through the coriander and sulphur of confusion that had engulfed her. Breathing in the lightning storm and desert of him gave her courage to shove her way off the man’s lap. She stumbled backward and would have fallen on her ass if Paulo hadn’t caught her.

‘She’s a guest here at The Mount and doesn’t have clearance to play. You know that, Angelo.’ He slid a protective arm around her and she breathed in great gulps of his scent, now mixed liberally with the metal and heat of anger.

The sounds and scents of orgasm erupted from the couple on the bed who were just too far gone to hold off any longer no matter if the roof fell in around them. And in all honesty no one was paying attention anymore. Angelo stretched his long lean body out in the chair and folded arms tattooed with multi-coloured dragons across his chest. ‘She doesn’t have clearance to invade my dungeon either, does she?’ He raked Liza with a wicked gaze followed by the heavy scent of lust that took her breath away. Her own scent spiked in response. ‘You know the rules. She has to be punished.’

‘What happened, Liza?’ Paulo asked, still holding her protectively.

‘It was the smell.’ It pissed her off that her voice came out shaky and forced. But she held this Angelo’s gaze. ‘I was walking in the garden and I smelled it, this place, the lust, the pain, the pain that somehow felt good, smelled good.’

For the tiniest of moments, the arousal rolling off Angelo peaked with the bramble scent of intrigue before the heavy heat smell of need took over again. He pushed himself to his feet and with the gate of a predator came to pace in front of them, his eyes locked on Liza. ‘Paulo, you need to teach this woman something of dungeon etiquette unless you want me to stretch her out on that bed and play with her.’ With a nod of his head, the man on the bed, who had been kneeling silently waiting for Angelo’s permission, began to undo the bonds around the woman’s ankles and wrists and rub the circulation back into them. ‘You’ve both been good tonight,’ Angelo said without looking at them. ‘I’ll reward you by letting you watch how a Dom punishes his misbehaving sub.’

‘I’m not his sub –’

Before she could finish, Angelo raised a shushing finger to his lips and held her gaze. ‘Best you keep your mouth shut, Ms Calendar or you’ll get yourself into more trouble.’ Before anyone could do or say anything else, there was a wave of scent, lust, concern, curiosity, and the sound of multiple feet on the steps as the entire High Council, minus Coraline Martelli, stepped into the dungeon. Fidelia held up a hand to silence everyone.

Angelo’s eyes were nearly black in the flicker of gas light, but he held Liza in a gaze that made her want to bury her face in Paulo’s chest. ‘Well, Paulo? You said if anyone was going to spank her it would be you.’

‘Angelo, she’s our guest and you know she’s already been spanked,’ Fidelia said. ‘You can use one of us as a whipping boy.’

‘No!’ Liza was surprised at how strong her voice was this time as she stepped out of Paulo’s protective embrace. The inhale of her breath sounded like a sob, but it was a sniff, a chance to take in all of the scents that she wished she could bottle. ‘No, Angelo is right. I wasn’t invited. I’ll take my punishment.’

There was a murmur from the High Council and a raised eyebrow from Angelo and, for a second, the room was dominated by the alum scent of surprise that settled quickly to cinnamon and cloves laced through with the smell of excited pussies and cocks. Liza closed her eyes to better take it all in, realizing that her own scent was far more metallic than usual and Paulo’s scent was more like hot ash. Is this what it smelled like to be exposed, to be uncomfortable, to know that she was about to get more uncomfortable? When Paulo laid a questioning hand on her shoulder, she opened her eyes and her gaze locked on his – dark and dangerous, pupils dilated. She smelled the rainwater scent of understanding. The nod he gave her was barely perceptible.

‘Once you’re mine, you’ll do exactly as I say, Liza Calendar. You won’t speak unless I ask you to. If you do you’ll make your punishment harder.’

‘She needs a safe word,’ Alessandro said. ‘I doubt that she’s ever played in a dungeon before.’

‘Does she even know what a safe word is?’ the fairy queen asked.

‘I know what a safe word is,’ Liza said. Her eyes were opened just a slit as she took in the smells around her. Losing herself in the orgy of scent seemed to sharpen her other senses too. She noticed a nod pass between Paulo and David, and David disappeared back up the steps. Then Paulo turned his attention to her.

‘I don’t need a safe word.’ She curled her fingers in his hair and pulled him down to where his nose rested on the pulse point of her throat. ‘My scent will tell you if I need you to stop.’

‘With your lack of experience, you have to have one, or you can’t play in my dungeon,’ Angelo said.

For a second she said nothing, then she whispered into Paulo’s ear, ‘bouquet then. If we must, then let it be bouquet.’

There was a louder murmur among the audience, and there was the scent of several other people joining the gawkers, including Coraline Martelli. Feeling somehow outside herself, Liza turned her attention to Angelo and spoke with lowered eyes. ‘I’m sorry that I trespassed in your dungeon. I humbly accept my punishment.’ She was surprised that her action sharpened the hot rock, heat-lightning scent of his arousal. But she had little time to think about it before she found herself enveloped in Paulo’s lush thickening scent as he slid out of his jacket and handed it to Alessandro, then placed his arm around her and led her away from the chair, undoing his tie as he went. ‘This is going to get really intimate really fast, let me know now if you want to back out.’

She sucked in a deep breath and shook her head just enough that only he saw. His own breath came out harsh and tight, and he spoke between barely parted lips. ‘Helluva a way to research the new line.’ He was still speaking when he looped his tie over a pipe that ran the length of the room. Then he caught her wrists in one large hand and bound them. She offered a gasp of surprise as he secured, hoisted, and tightened until she stood with her arms stretched over her head, not on her toes, but without her heels she would be. Her heart raced and, for a second, she fought back a surge of burnt-coffee anger, forcing herself to remember that she had given him permission for this.

With both hands, he grabbed the bodice of her dress where it covered her breasts, and with a swift, efficient move, ripped it all the way down until it hung like an open bathrobe, exposing the red lace thong. Her pulse raced in a wave of cold, metal fear that accompanied the hiss of tearing silk and the collective catch of breath by the audience that now filled the dungeon. She wore no bra. She felt a wave of shame wash over her like stagnant water. Her face burned, and she closed her eyes, but only long enough to take in the smorgasbord of scent. Then she opened them again and focused on Paulo.

For a long moment he stood inspecting her, his gaze moving over her body in a caress that made her skin goose-flesh, then warm, as though it were heated just below the surface. He turned her slightly so that her audience could view the red welts on her bottom, almost as though he were demonstrating why he chose the method of punishment he had. From the implements hanging on the wall, he selected a crop not unlike the one Fidelia had used. Then with the flat of his hand he slid her legs apart as far as he could and still allow her to keep her balance. He ran the pliant tip of the crop around each of her nipples until they jutted like pebbles in front of her. His gaze on her was neutral, distant, as though she were an experiment that interested him. An experiment that interested both of them, she thought. But his scent gave him away. He was smoldering ash and summer storm agitated. He was cinnamon and aniseed, he was dark, rich earth, deep, dangerous and wanting … wanting her. She moaned involuntarily as he brought the tip of the crop up between her legs, up the valley between her labia, circling it around the nudge of her clit, teasing her through the thong, and her own scent was a riptide lapping at his. How the hell could no one else smell what was going on?

With a move that startled her in its swiftness, he brought the crop up with a tap that was more of a shock that pain against her clit. She tensed, her belly goose-fleshed, and her pussy gripped at its own juices. Holding her gaze, he moved forward and slid the flat of his hand into the front of her thong and down until his middle and index fingers could scissor into the wet trough of her and his thumb could press against her clit. He gave her a knowing smile when her eyelids fluttered and she bit her lip. Heat flashed up over her breasts and climbed her neck.

Then without warning he dropped his mouth to her nipples, suckling first one and then the other to hard tips that chilled in the dry air from the saliva he’d left on each. And when they were hard and tight and so sensitive that it was all she could do not to whimper each time he suckled, he pulled back and brought the force of the crop down with a sharp snap against first one engorged nipple and then another. She bit her tongue and held her breath to keep from crying out, but the tears that forced their way out of the corner of her eyes she could do nothing about. Then he cupped each breast in turn and brought the crop snap-snap-snapping up against the underside of each while he tweaked her nipples between thumb and forefingers.

‘That’s my girl.’ His breath was hot against her sternum, ‘That’s my girl. Take your punishment just like you deserve, then afterwards I’ll make you feel better.’

She was wet with thoughts of him making her better, and his eyes widened and his nostrils flared. She knew he smelled it, her desire, her need for him, the strange pleasure she felt in the pain he dished out to her so lovingly. Once again he slipped fingers into her thong and felt her, all swollen and wet. A murmur from the audience suddenly made her aware of the fact that they had something to do with what she was feeling. Their presence made the experience and the scent different, more intense somehow. But there was little time to dwell on her audience. Paulo hooked his fingers in the sides of her thong and hauled them down her legs, squatting in front of her as he did so, moving so that his breath brushed her tightly trimmed pubic curls before he slid the thong off one foot and then the other, steadying her with one hand on her hip. For a moment he knelt there, breathing her in. Then he cupped her ass cheeks gently enough not to hurt, but firmly enough to remind her that she had been punished before. He drew her to his face and placed a kiss against her mons, then moved low enough that his tongue flicked over the hard node of her clit, and this time she moaned out loud. Before he stood, he ran his tongue down the inside of her left leg and lifted it until he cupped the heel of her shoe, which he then slipped off and tossed aside. For a long, delicious moment, he bathed her foot with his tongue and his lips, pausing to suckle her toes until she writhed against her bonds. Then he repeated his efforts with her other foot, if anything, lingering even longer. It was only when he settled her weight back onto her feet that she realized what he had done. He had forced her onto the balls of her feet by taking away her heels. The acrid smell of her discomfort filled her sinuses.

Again he took up the crop and whisked it back and forth between her thighs to make sure her legs were as far apart as they could be. And just when she had regained balance and had convinced herself not to think about the burn she could already feel in her calves and in her arms bound over her head, he ran a splayed hand along her throat, over her sternum and down her belly to curl his fingers against her mons. His mouth clamped on hers in a possessive kiss. Just when he pulled away leaving her breathless, he brought the crop down with a sharp snap against the upper front of her right thigh and she swallowed back a curse, breathing hard through her nose at the harsh sting of it. Before she could breathe through the pain, he brought the crop down on the other thigh and the room around her blurred out of focus in front of her watering eyes. One hand snaked up the back of her neck and pulled pins from her hair with a calm efficiency she could scarcely believe, as he took her mouth again and ran the threat of the crop up the backs of her thighs. The kiss was deep and leisurely, with his tongue trailing like velvet against hers, against her hard palate, against the backs of her teeth. Once her hair was free, he ran his hand through it, loosening it, fluffing it, spreading it over her shoulders. Then the crop came down again hard and fast against the fronts of her thighs until there was the beginning of a lattice of red marks. Then without warning, he repeated his efforts against just the tips of her nipples until they stung and, once again, he took them into his mouth and suckled until she felt the effects down deep in her core. ‘You won’t disturb Angelo in his dungeon again, will you, Ms Calendar?’ His voice was harsh, his words cut through with his efforts to breath.

‘No, Mr Delacour. I won’t,’ she replied, her own voice nearly as breathless. A half a dozen more stinging smacks across her thighs and he dropped the crop to the floor. Then with a single slip of a knot, he loosened the tie until her arms fell free, and he guided the dead weight of them around his neck before she could stumble. Holding her gaze, he undid his fly, then lifted her into his arms. ‘I’m going to fuck you now, Ms Calendar, because you’ve made me horny.’ Somewhere a long way off Liza could hear the murmurs of the council and she could smell the intense wave of arousal rolling off all of them. But when Paulo lifted her onto him with a single thrust and wrapped her legs around him, her focus was completely and totally on the man in her arms. It didn’t take long for either of them to come, and then what happened afterward seemed vague to her. She remembered Paulo giving instructions to David – something about zip-lock bags, then he slipped his jacket around her, lifted her into his arms, and carried her up the stairs and out into the silky-rich Italian night. He carried her through the maze and up the travertine steps flanked by the roll and tumble of fountains. The valet had his car ready, and Paulo eased her into the passenger seat of the midnight blue Porch, shutting out the star-studded night sky. He leaned in and kissed her before he closed the door and settled in next to her.

Neither of them spoke on the ride home. Somehow it seemed wrong to. Somehow it seemed like what had happened was something that shouldn’t be spoken about, something that needed to be held close inside, to be reflected on for a long time before thoughts of it were shared in the light of day. The scent between them, the scent of them together was warm honey and strong tea, and cool water flowing in a stream. There had been a million questions she wanted to ask before what happened in the dungeon, but at the moment she could find voice for none of them.

At Bernini Place, he still refused to let her walk, but carried her into the flat, eased her out of the torn clothes, and into a warm bath. While she half dozed, he brought her cold water to drink and fed her fresh melon and prosciutto. Then he bathed her as though she were precious, wrapped her in a thick terry towel, and carried her to the bed. By the time he had pulled back the covers and tucked her in she could barely hold her eyes open. He smoothed the hair away from her face and spoke gently. ‘Just so you know, you don’t need a condom with me. Being clean and safe is a requirement for members of The Mount. And I’m pretty sure from what you told me, I don’t have to worry with you either.’

‘I’m on the pill,’ she said softly. In spite of the exhaustion that threatening to smother her in a blanket of soft warm sleep, her stomach did a tight little somersault. He was planning to have sex with her again. Good. She liked that idea. She was just about to invite him under the covers to try out their newfound freedom but she never got the chance. She dropped off into a deep, dreamless sleep before she could even say goodnight.

Chapter Fifteen

‘I’ve convinced Jim Dryer to show me around the research facility,’ Vera said.

‘How’d you manage that?’ Carl admired her from where she stood in front of the hotel room window, the late morning sunlight all but making her summer sheath transparent. He’d checked into the room especially for their meeting. Better not to run any risks of getting caught with his pants down this time.

‘I blew him,’ she replied. ‘Then I took him back to my place and fucked him. Twice.’

Carl chuckled, as he undid his tie and tossed it over the back of the chair. ‘You always did have a silver tongue,’ he said. ‘And what you can do with the rest of your body is even better. So what did you find out?’

‘Only that Coraline Martelli is extremely unhappy with the progress on the new line and she’s pulled the stops on the work her team was doing, in spite of the shitload of money they’d already invested in it. But you already knew that. If they’re worried about your threat of a takeover, they’re keeping their cards close to their chest.’

‘Wouldn’t expect them to do otherwise. But trust me, Vera, they’re worried all right.’

She turned to face him. ‘What’s really strange is how Martelli, Delacour, and Dryer are all three treating Liza Calendar like she’s made of gold. Isn’t she just here to do a story on Martelli Fragrance for her little magazine?’

‘That’s what you’re supposed to be finding out for me, Vera.’

‘Well, you might find this interesting.’ She dug through the handbag she’d dropped on the chair and handed him a flash drive. ‘Coraline Martelli had me make up a couple of slides for her the other day while her little PA was away.’ She followed him back to the desk where his computer was already up and running and watched as he shoved the drive into the port. ‘Sadly I wasn’t at the meeting she had me make it for but she, Delacour, and Dryer were all there, and little Ms Calendar was invited right on in with the inner circle.’

‘What?’ Carl looked up at her. ‘That doesn’t make any sense. The woman’s a good journalist, granted, but all she knows of the perfume industry is what she’s done to research her story, and it’s certainly not likely that the entire big three would meet with her for that story, nor would they discuss me with her. What the hell?’ He pulled up the slide, and she looked over his shoulder.

1. Romantic vanilla
2. Dom
3. sub
4. Kink
5. Animal heat/al fresco

‘What the fuck is this?’ He asked looking up at her.

‘Apparently that’s the revamped new line,’ she replied. ‘Or will be as soon as they come up with fragrances to go along with the names.’

‘Seriously? They’re no farther than simply the raw ideas? That means another huge outlay of money. I love it! I might as well hire someone to redecorate Coraline’s office for me.’

Vera opened the bottle of wine chilling on the table by the window and poured them both a glass. ‘Actually, I think they’re starting over completely from scratch. That’s sure what it looks like, which means they have, indeed, lost a tonne of money on their first attempts. Still, Carl, I’ve never seen three people more excited, and Delacour escorted Liza Calendar into the meeting like she was their top secret weapon.’ She handed him the glass. ‘And when she came out, she looked pretty damned excited. In fact, they all did. Does she know you’re in Rome?’

Carl pulled her down on his lap, nearly spilling her wine. ‘She will soon enough, honey, I promise you that. I’ll let her know when it works best to my advantage.’ He gave Vera’s tits a little squeeze and her tongue snaked out over her upper lip all porn-star like. ‘So –’ he tried not to grind his teeth ‘– Liza Calendar’s more than just Delacour’s bimbo then, is she? That’s very interesting. Very interesting indeed.’ He toyed with the hem of her skirt, which had slipped up to reveal a good bit of firm thigh. ‘And what did you find out from Dryer?’

‘Well –’ She sat her wine glass on the desk then reached behind her back to unzip her dress. Wriggling it off her shoulders and down over her hips, she offered him a cheap little stripper’s pout ‘– he says she has the most incredible sense of smell of anyone he or anyone at Martelli has ever met. He says you wouldn’t believe what she can smell.’ She undid her push-up bra and let it slide off onto the floor on top of her dress, and his cock stretched lazily in his trousers. The woman had nice tits.

‘And they’re going to use her sense of smell for this new line of theirs? I don’t see how.’

She looked down at him from the height of her Louboutins and offered him a heavy-lipped pout that made him think of what she’d done to Dryer to get information. ‘Oh, and apparently she’s not as much of a prude as you thought. Dryer said she had a hot date with Delacour and she was dressed to the nines when they drove off in his Porsche. He said they’ve definitely been doing the nasty. In fact, he says they joined the Mile High Club on their flight to Rome.’ She shrugged. ‘Didn’t really figure Delacour for a kiss and tell sort of guy, but then you never know, do you?’ She squatted in front of him and began to tease open his fly, raking over the fabric with long fingernails. ‘As for Dryer, well, it’s amazing what a man’ll tell you when he’s about to get his cock sucked.’

‘Isn’t it just,’ Carl said, as he shifted in his chair and let his erection bounce from his open fly right into her waiting mouth. It pissed him off that Liza Calendar wouldn’t fuck him but she didn’t even make it to Rome before she was spreading her legs for Delacour. Well at the end of the day they’d see who got fucked, wouldn’t they?

‘She’s already over at the labs.’ Coraline spoke around a mouthful of pastry as Paulo stepped into her office and closed the door behind him. God there were times when he wished the woman couldn’t read him quite so well.

‘I –’

‘You stopped by her flat, yes, I suspected as much. She had Jim take her over.’

He couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt that she’d called Jim and not him, but then Jim was right next door. ‘I’m amazed that she was up so early after …’

She wiped her mouth daintily and tossed back the last of her coffee. ‘Did you sleep?’

He shook his head. ‘But she was out cold when I left her.’

‘I figured as much or you wouldn’t have left her.’ Christ, was he really that transparent? ‘I have no doubt she was exhausted after what you did to her last night.’ There was no accusation in Coraline’s voice, so why did he feel so damned defensive, like he’d done something wrong.

‘Angelo left me no choice.’

She smiled lazily. ‘Yes, Angelo. Your constant pain in the ass.’

‘He’s that alright,’ Paulo agreed.

‘The problem is that the two of you are too much alike, Paulo.’

His shoulders tightened, and he growled. ‘I’m not like him. He’s irresponsible and he’s out of control.’

‘And you’re hyper-responsible and extremely in control,’ Coraline nodded. ‘Opposite sides of the same coin.’ Then she changed the subject. ‘They’ve never seen you like that, Paulo, like you were last night. No one at The Mount has ever seen you that way. They were all stunned.’

Paulo shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. He wasn’t sure he liked that everyone had seen him so vulnerable. Of course they didn’t know how vulnerable he was, though he wondered how the hell they could have missed it. No doubt Angelo hadn’t.

‘I don’t think that dungeon, in all of its years of use, has ever seen such a powerful display of dominance and submission,’ Coraline was saying. ‘Lots of attempts at it. Lots of wannabes, but what you two did, well, it was stunning. Oh, I know she’s not a sub. Nothing about her is submissive, except that her instincts are the best I’ve ever seen. Personally …’ she rose and came to stand in front of him, straightening his tie that was already flawlessly straight, ‘… I think she plays off your scent. She responds to the smell of arousal, and she responds in kind – sort of olfactory empathy, if I may be allowed to coin my own term.’ She smiled up at him. ‘And frankly, Paulo, I don’t know about you, but on a professional level, that excites the hell out of me. And on the psychosexual level, the implications are astounding. Don’t you think?’

Paulo reached for the chair behind him and dropped into it, suddenly unable to catch his breath. He hadn’t thought about any of those things when he was with Liza last night. He had been so caught up in the moment, so caught up in what the woman did to him, so determined to protect her from a situation that she clearly didn’t need protecting from, that he hadn’t really thought about what it all meant to Martelli Fragrance. He hadn’t really thought about what it all meant to The Mount – not just The Mount in Rome, but to The Mount International. Here was a woman who knew scent and experienced it like no one else on the planet, and she had a way of expressing it, understanding it that would change the face of fragrance, and very possibly of human sexuality. It scared him more than anything that he had missed the implications. Of course he’d had the presence of mind to have David bring bags and zip-lock underwear and cleanup towels for the labs, but beyond that he was totally and completely focused on the woman, who so willing gave herself over to him in what, for most people would have been a frightening, even disturbing situation. And Liza had made him aware of the scent of them together, which rendered the whole experience far more textured and full-bodied than any dungeon play he’d ever been involved in before.

‘Paulo?’ He jerked his attention back to Coraline, who now sat in the chair next to his, her hand on his forearm. She smiled at him. ‘Sometimes it’s OK to lose control.’

His laugh sounded more like a groan. ‘I like dungeon play because I’m always in control there. I guess I wasn’t as in control last night as I thought I was.’

He could feel her sharp gaze as she studied him. ‘Control is relative, Paulo – far more so than most people think. You’ve not been a member of The Mount long enough to know that, and you’ve certainly never encountered anyone like Liza Calendar before. Paulo, it’s the first time you’ve ever made love in front of anyone at The Mount. There were a lot of stunned people in that dungeon, myself included. You don’t very often let anyone in. I know that better than most, and you certainly have never let a whole roomful of people in before.’

Interesting that she had used the words ‘made love’ rather than had sex, or fucked. ‘I didn’t,’ he replied. ‘I only let Liza in. Everyone else just happened to be there.’ Paulo liked the role of Dom in the dungeon because he was in control, and he chose, for the most part, to orchestrate situations between submissives while he watched. Then he took his lust home with him and dealt with it there. It wasn’t that he was a prude. It wasn’t even so much that he cared if people saw him fucking, or at least he certainly hadn’t last night. But in truth, he had wanted everyone in the dungeon to know that Liza Calendar was with him, that he could possess her and she would allow it. She would allow it. Her power gave him power, and he felt it as he’d never felt it before, no matter how many scenarios he’d orchestrated in the dungeon.

Both of their BlackBerries buzzed simultaneously, and Coraline patted his arm and returned to her desk. ‘I’m betting that’s from the research facility.’

It was from Liza. His fingers tightened around the device. The email read:

I have a basic plan in mind for the experiments we’ll need to run. Most of what we need to do, we can do at TM, though I may need some time to explore the city a little more for some scents I feel will be essential if we’re to make this work. Also we’ll need to have volunteers to ‘zip-lock’ their at-home sexual experiences for us to be certain our presence doesn’t interfere with the scents we want. Below is a rough outline for the first experiment.

There was an attachment.

‘She’s excited,’ Coraline said. ‘Her enthusiasm is contagious, but then with her sense of smell, I’m inclined to be enthusiastic myself.’

‘I’m going to her,’ Paulo said. ‘I’ll have to make arrangements for her to come and go at The Mount as she pleases …’ He liked that she had been discreet enough not to refer to The Mount by name, understanding just how seriously the secrecy of the organization was taken ‘… and I’m happy to escort her on whatever jaunts about the city she feels she needs.’

‘Great! Then I’m making her your responsibility, Paulo.’ Coraline began to doodle on her desk blotter. ‘The two of you have a certain rapport, and she trusts you. Though if I were you, I’d speak to Angelo. You didn’t stick around long enough to see, and you were too occupied to notice, but he was pretty taken aback by all that happened last night, and I think he was pretty taken by our Ms Calendar.’ She waved a hand. ‘That’s for you and him to work out, but I’d do it soon if I were you, or Liza may be caught in the crossfire.’

So what are we planning first?

The text from Paulo sped up the beat of her heart, and she nearly dropped her BlackBerry in her effort respond.

I’m voting for al fresco. We’re so close to Ostia Antica, I’m having Jim take me out there for a peek. Hoping we can get permission to do it there. Or not. How do you feel about trespassing? It would add another dimension to the scent.

Keep it simple. Keep it businesslike, Liza told herself. She needed time to process what happened last night, and she needed it away from the man who she was pretty sure she’d throw herself at the minute she saw him if she didn’t give herself a moment – or in this case, a couple of hours.

Always up for trespassing if it’s with you. Lose Jim & I’ll be right there.

Her fingers trembled on the keys as she replied.

Are you kidding? If you were here I wouldn’t be thinking about Martelli Fragrance. Besides we’re already at Ostia.

There was a short pause and then he replied.

Have just texted the lucky bastard & told him to get the job done, keep his hands to himself, and get you back here ASAP.

She couldn’t keep from giggling when she noticed Jim getting a text, then glancing at her with a raised eyebrow. She was poised to text back when her phone rang. She was just about to answer it, thinking it might be Paulo, when Carl’s name flashed on the caller ID. At the very same moment, her toe caught on the uneven cobbles and sent the device flying from her hand. She would have gone flying too if Jim hadn’t caught her.

‘Whoa, whoa, whoa! Paulo and Coraline will both skin me alive if I bring you home injured.’ He settled her onto her feet. ‘Besides I don’t want to have to carry you piggy back to the Temple of Hercules if you sprain an ankle.’ He chased down her device, which had rung over to voicemail, gave her a stern look, and nodded down the Decumano Massimo. They’d only gone a little way when he asked, ‘Were you going to answer that? Was it Paulo?’

‘No, not Paulo. I’ll take care of it later.’ She stuffed the device into her pocket as they past the Tabernae of the Fishmongers and turned down the Via della Foce. Christ, she was hoping that Carl would just let it go when he got her message. In fact, she figured he would. It seemed like the face-saving thing for him to do. And really, he didn’t owe her an explanation. She pushed thoughts of him out of her mind, and it was surprisingly easy to do with the challenges Martelli Fragrance had set before her, and with another incoming text from Paulo.

So tell me, what do you think of Hercules’s butt? And don’t tell me you didn’t notice.

She was about to reply she didn’t know what he was talking about when Jim led her off the path to the Temple of the Republic and up close and personal to a weathered marble sculpture that was missing an arm and a head, but all the parts that defined him as male were very well in tact.

Not his butt I’m looking at, she fired back.

Behave! Both of you. We’re trying to work here! came the text from Jim, who only smiled at her and waved as she examined the anatomy of the statue thought to have been Hercules, and as she looked at the temple surrounds and the nearby Domus of Amor and Psyche, an idea began to form in her head.

Chapter Sixteen

He should have been excited and, in truth he was, but it was hard not to be just a little grumpy when Paulo had actually hoped he would have Liza all to himself this evening. Instead – and he suspected Coraline was in on this – someone had thrown their weight around in just the right way and in just the right places to get the permission they needed for Liza’s experiment, and he found himself at the ruined the Roman city of Ostia Antica after hours. He hadn’t even been able to drive Liza there this time. The set-up had been quick and simple. Liza had insisted that it was better that way, and since she and Jim were already there, they’d had pizza somewhere close by and were waiting for him at the car park when he arrived. He could tell by the slight flare of her nostrils that she had scented him. Her lovely full lips curled upward in an energetic smile he was dying to kiss right off her face. ‘You made it,’ she said, fingers dancing over the screen of her iPad, eyes drawn in a sexy librarian squint as she tried to make out whatever it was she was looking at in lighting that wasn’t ideal.

‘I can’t believe it’s all happening so fast,’ she said, as he moved as close to her as he could without making his need to be near her too obvious. Vera had let it slip to one of the secretaries who had let it slip to Alessandro, which meant it was now all over the Martelli offices that she and Jim had entertained each other quite well last night at her place, so Paulo was pretty sure Jim wasn’t competition for Liza’s affection. But, fuck, the man had had her to himself all day long, and Paulo couldn’t believe that Liza didn’t feel the need to talk about last night and their time in the dungeon at least as much as he did. Or maybe she was avoiding him. She didn’t seem to be avoiding him. If he could smell her as well as she could smell him then he’d know if she were avoiding him or not. Unconsciously he sniffed, and she looked up at him and smiled. All he knew for sure was that she smelled really good and she knew he was sniffing her.

David was already there with everything they’d need in order to bag and label necessary items of clothing. He worked in the research department of Martelli Fragrance and when Liza walked over to him, he held up the rucksack full of essentials. ‘You know how Ms Martelli is,’ he said. ‘Now that there’s a plan, the woman wants it done yesterday.’

‘So who’s going to have sex with you tonight?’ Liza asked. Paulo couldn’t help be a little proud that she said it without the slightest blush of embarrassment. But then he figured she was in research mode, and if their encounter with the ménage at the villa was any indication, where scent was concerned, she lost any inhibitions she might have and was totally and completely focused. She sniffed in David’s direction. ‘You didn’t shower before you came over, did you?’

‘Oh, I’m not having sex tonight,’ he said, then he offered her a wicked smile, ‘At least I’m not the one you’ll be sniffing. Doesn’t mean I won’t be enjoying my work.’ He made a rude gesture over his groin as though he were jerking off.

‘I believe I have the honour tonight,’ Angelo’s resonant voice couldn’t have caused more of a shudder for Paulo if it had been fingernails on a chalkboard. He didn’t need Angelo’s antics complicating the evening, and Angelo would be sure to figure some way to cause problems. The fucker looked at Liza like he wanted to eat her for dinner, and this time she did blush. Paulo ground his teeth.

‘I see,’ Liza said. To her credit, she still sounded all businesslike. ‘And who will you be fucking?’

Paulo bit his lip and Jim tried unsuccessfully to swallow a snigger. The woman had guts, Paulo had to admit.

‘Sadly not you, it would appear.’

‘I’m not in your dungeon tonight, Angelo. You’re in my domain now, and it’s my job to sniff,’ she said coolly. ‘And who else will I be sniffing?’

‘That would be me.’ Lucia stepped out of a sporty red Audi, showing plenty of leg from beneath a black flip mini skirt as she did so. ‘And frankly, I don’t mind sharing Angelo if you care to join us, Ms Calendar. In fact, I think Angelo would have no problem doing us both.’ She shot Paulo a heavy pout. ‘Paulo kept you all to himself last night. The man can be so selfish.’

Fuck! Was this Coraline’s idea of a joke? She couldn’t have gotten a harder couple to work with if she had made a special effort.

‘We volunteered,’ Angelo said, smiling at Paulo as though he’d read his thoughts. ‘Besides it was a bit of a short notice to be too picky, wasn’t it? Trust me, Ms Calendar …’ he gave Luci’s braless breasts a good grope, but his eyes never left Liza’s ‘… we’ll give you plenty to sniff.’

As they headed in through the gate and along the Decumano Massimo, past the necropolis and then the ruins of the theatre, Paulo slid a possessive arm around Liza’s waist. ‘Is it just the six of us then?’

‘I guess so,’ Liza said. ‘I don’t know who made the arrangements. I only know that Coraline wants it done as fast as we can realistically manage it, and we were already here. I like the way Angelo and Lucia smell together. Or maybe I should say I like both of their scents, but if they’re not willing to play nice, the results won’t be the same. ’

He leaned close to her ear so no one else would hear. ‘I would think after last night you would see that sometimes not playing nice results in something very nice indeed.’ He sniffed and thought he could smell her scent spike. But so often it was difficult to tell if he could really smell the subtleties she spoke of to him or if he only hoped that he could.

‘Believe me,’ her voice sounded thicker, rougher, and she made no effort to hide her deep inhalation of his scent. ‘I’m very well aware of the delicious results of not playing nice. And I’ve got the welts and sore muscles to prove it. Plus I’ve spent a good chunk of the day analyzing the data you had the presence of mind to get David to collect for us. I’ve been trying to pull corresponding scents from the perfume organ, and I’ve got some really great ideas for the Dom and sub scents. I thought we’d use Angelo for those. I didn’t figure him to be a sex al fresco sort of guy.’ She shrugged, her gaze locked on Angelo, who walked ahead of them. ‘Though I could easily figure him for a bit of an animal.’

Paulo bristled in spite of himself. He didn’t like Liza thinking about Angelo at all. But this was business, he reminded himself. ‘Do you wonder what might have happened if I hadn’t shown up last night when I did?’ Fuck! Why the hell had he said that? And worse, he knew full well that she could smell his jealousy.

Her lips tipped upward into a Mona Lisa smile. ‘It smells to me like you’ve spent way more time wondering about that than I have.’

For a long moment they walked in silence while he struggled to regroup ‘That’s unfair advantage, you know? Using your nose like that.’

She nodded. ‘It’s unfair of you to assume that things turned out any way other than the way I wanted them to turn out last night. Except, of course, I would have stayed awake a little longer and wore you out a little better.’ She sniffed. ‘You like that idea, don’t you?’

‘Maybe we can shoot for another nice outcome tonight when we’re finished here?’

‘Maybe.’

The conversation ended abruptly when Lucia approached the statue of headless Hercules with a little yelp of delight. The short flip skirt she was wearing barely covered her bright pink thong, which was clearly visible as she clambered up the remains of the ancient steps and began caressing the statue’s cock, at rest against his balls, all of which rested, both discretely and exposed at the same time, against one thigh, raised on a plinth, a draping of cloth sculpted over it.

‘What do you want us to do?’ Angelo asked, trotting up the steps after Lucia.

‘Whatever you want to do,’ Liza said, ‘as long as it leads to sex al fresco.’

The figure of Hercules was only slightly larger than life-size, and in part that was due to the sculpture’s raised position. But Lucia wasn’t shy, as she began to stroke and caress marble genitalia. Then, as though she were completely alone, she lifted her light summer sweater and cupped her breasts awkwardly around the statue’s unresponsive package. Angelo leaned against the raised thigh of the statue and undid his fly. As he eased his already expanding cock out of his boxers, he observed from lowered eyelids as Lucia’s large pink nipples rubbed and pressed and danced against the pale marble.

Paulo watched the two of them as his own cock tightened inside his trousers. Liza slipped away from him and moved slowly, cautiously up the steps, pausing with her eyes closed to breathe in the thickening scent of lust that only she could smell. Suddenly he had no interest in what Luci and Angelo were doing. He couldn’t take his gaze off Liza in her blue sundress, nowhere nearly as sexy as what Luci was wearing, and yet Liza was by far the most captivating woman there, lost in her exploration of scent. He knew it and everyone else there knew it, he was certain. Though he doubted that Liza was aware of it. She would be wet and slippery by now, taking in the scent of sex like she was. He knew her heart would be racing with excitement. He knew that for her what was going on between Lucia and Angelo was an exciting olfactory story unfolding before her nose, and knowing what she was experiencing made his own heart race, made him wish desperately that he could smell it with her.

It was as she moved slowly up beside Luci, just far enough away not to disturb her that he noticed Angelo was not watching Luci at all. His eyes were locked on Liza, following her every move like a predator waiting to pounce. Paulo’s fists clenched at his side until his knuckles popped, and he was halfway up the stairs behind Liza before he realized he’d even moved.

With his eyes still locked on Liza, Angelo moved in behind Lucia and shoved the tiny flip skirt up over her hips to expose her buttocks, separated by a thin strip of the pink thong. He tugged at the back of it until it rubbed up tight against her crotch. She gave a little grunt and slid one foot along the rubble by the plinth to open her legs. Then with his gaze still on Liza, Angelo shoved the thong aside and thrust two fingers up into Lucia’s pussy. She wriggled her hips against his probing until he pulled free and sniffed her juices. ‘Mmmm! I can smell Lucia’s sopping cunt too, Liza Calendar.’ He gave himself a stroke. ‘And in a minute I’m gonna fuck her until she comes all over my cock. Oh, would you look at that?’ He thumbed the pre-cum off the tip of his erection. ‘Can you smell me too, Ms Nose, can you smell my heat? Does it make your little pussy wet, sniffing us like you do?’

Paulo was ready to knock Angelo on his ass, but his crudeness didn’t seem to bother Liza. ‘Yes, it does.’ She spoke to him almost as a teacher would who was trying to explain something important to a schoolboy. ‘Of course it does, and I can smell that you’re both as turned on by taunting me as you are by each other.’

‘Oh I’m not turned on by taunting you, Liza Calendar, but by watching you sniff us. That makes me want to ram my cock up your wet little pussy.’

Paulo couldn’t help it, he moved to lay a hand on Liza’s shoulder and heard her gasp in the scent of him. Then she turned to him and found his mouth, her tongue probing deep between his parted lips, her body pressing against his. Angelo growled and mumbled something rude Paulo only half caught before Liza rose on her toes and spoke into his ear. ‘I can only smell you when you’re this close to me, and then I smell me wanting you. Please, go stand by Jim so I can concentrate.’

He curled his fingers in her hair and drew her nearer until she grunted out a heavy breath. ‘I don’t like him taunting you.’

‘Let him. He smells good that way. And it gives me another idea.’ He barely heard her words against his ear, but the reassuring squeeze of her hand and the spiking of her scent against his had him stepping back toward Jim.

As he did so, Angelo offered a throaty laugh. ‘Sorry, Paulo. She’s here to smell me tonight.’ He kneed open Lucia’s legs just a little further, eased his jeans and boxers down until his whole ass was exposed, then pushed into her pussy with a hard thrust that all but forced Lucia up into Hercules’s naked lap. ‘Tell me, what do you smell, love?’ He fucked Lucia with all the indifference of a porn star, one hand curled into her skirt as though he were a cowboy and she were his horse, while the other rested on his hip.

It was only because Paulo was so attuned to Liza’s voice, and only because he could do a little bit of lip-reading that Paulo caught what happened next. Jim and David were too busy watching the action to pay any attention to what was really going on. But Paulo was good at catching subtleties. That was why he was so good at his job. Liza moved closer to the rutting couple, much closer. With one hand resting on Hercules’ marble torso, she leaned in and sniffed. Then she spoke quietly to Angelo. ‘I smell your dominance like hot iron and your arrogance like chlorine in a swimming pool, Angelo. Shall I tell you what your arrogance is doing to Lucia’s scent, or would you prefer not to know?’

Angelo jerked as though he’d been slapped. His back stiffened, his body eased to a stop with his cock still buried inside Lucia. For a tense moment, his gaze flashed white-hot, locked on Liza. Paulo’s gut knotted with the tension that passed between the two of them. Then, slowly, very slowly, Angelo slid a large hand up to rest low on Lucia’s back, then around her waist where he wriggled it into her thong to stroke her clit, and she gave a throaty grunt. Then he fisted his hand in her hair and leaned in to kiss and nibble her neck. She gave a quiver of surprise as his tongue laved up her pulse point and over her ear. With his cock still buried to the hilt, he stood to his full height and shed his shirt. In the dying light, Paulo was surprised to see that his fingers trembled on the buttons. He gave one last thrust, much gentler than before, and pulled out, his cock shining with Lucia’s heat. She offered a little growl of protest, which died in her throat as he dropped into a squat and, holding the thong aside with one hand, he buried his face in her pussy. With the other hand, he awkwardly, but effectively spread his shirt at Hercules’s feet. Again he pulled away, and as Lucia’s knees gave, he caught her and lowered her onto his shirt. A murmur passed between Jim and David and Liza’s inhaled gasp told Paulo that something major had shifted in the olfactory stew. Though Paulo couldn’t actually smell it, the tremor low in his belly and the speeding up of his pulse told him something had definitely changed between the couple. There was a shifting of power, a loosening of control, even a sense of yielding that didn’t have to be smelled to be sensed.

Angelo knelt between Lucia’s legs and then with slow deliberateness of which Paulo would have thought the man incapable, he nipped and sucked and licked his way up the inside of Lucia’s left thigh. Her arms flailed and she groaned out loud, curling one fist into a tuft of grass that had grown up between the travertine stones and fisting the other in Angelo’s hair as though she could drag him up her body faster, but he took his time.

‘Angelo, please. Please! Angelo, Angelo, Angelo!’ By the time he had rested her bare feet on his shoulders and settled into the feast she offered between her thighs, Lucia called out his name like a mantra, and Paulo was convinced that a person would have to have no sense of smell at all not to smell the heat. His cock was hard inside his trousers as much from watching Liza’s response to Angelo’s shift in game plan as to what Angelo and Lucia were actually doing.

‘That’s better, oh God, that’s better, so much better,’ Liza said between gasps for breath.

‘What do you smell?’ Lucia managed with a little yelp as Angelo nibbled her clit. ‘Tell us what you smell.’

‘I smell arid summer and pine, I smell honey and lime and seashore. I smell hot metal and wet forest floor, I smell … I smell your orgasm like a sea storm.’

And before she finished the sentence Lucia bucked her hips and grasped Angelo tightly between her thighs as her cries echoed off the ancient walls of the ruins.

‘I want you in my mouth! I want you in my mouth, I want you in my mouth,’ Lucia babbled incoherently. To Paulo’s surprise, Angelo wasn’t the Dom tonight. He obeyed, shifting until his body arched over her, shoving and kicking until his trousers and boxers were off in a heap at his side. Then he lowered his cock into her mouth, positioning himself carefully so that she could take him into her throat, her head back, her mouth wide and begging like a baby bird, moaning pleasure as he lowered himself into a classic 69 position. Then with the flat of his hand, he opened her thighs, planted a lazy tongue kiss in her navel, then battled the front of the beleaguered thong to bury his face back in her slit. Almost immediately she whimpered against his cock and her hips bucked. Lucia could come all night long. Everyone at The Mount knew that about her.

But it was what Liza was doing that had Paulo on the edge of coming. The way she sniffed, the way her eyelids fluttered then closed, the way she encouraged the lovers, the way she talked to herself of the scent of sea and earth and heavy thunderstorms. Oh God, he wanted to march right over to her, push up her skirt, and bury his cock in her soft wet folds, and he knew she would be so wet, so slick. He knew she would be ready and yielding and that she would take him to the hilt and he would be in ecstasy with her butter and honey scent curling around his lightning storm heat. He stood very still, breathing deeply – deeply enough to smell sex, deeply enough to feel it in his cells, but as Angelo wiped his face on his arm and repositioned himself to thrust into Lucia’s pussy again, and as she wrapped her legs around him and howled another orgasm, it wasn’t either of them that was making him desperate for some relief of his own. It was Liza, Liza reveling in an orgy of scent, Liza like a goddess in her element.

And when Angelo ejaculated with a roar, like a lion before Hercules, when his whole body convulsed like it would break apart, Paulo knew without a shadow of a doubt the man was feeling something he had never felt before. He was experiencing another dimension to sex, and he was a man who was jaded by experience.

But Liza knew that too. He could see it as she dropped to her knees gasping for breath, eyes closed, trembling all over. And Paulo could hold back no more, he rushed to her side and pulled her possessively into his arms. She uttered a startled yelp, then she looked up at him as though she wasn’t sure how he’d gotten there, as though she had been somewhere far away. Then she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him long and hard.

Liza couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t that she couldn’t breathe, it was just that she couldn’t breathe in enough of Paulo’s scent as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, tongue writhing and sliding over and around hers, teeth nibbling, lips suckling at hers until she felt as though he would pull all of her into his mouth and devour her whole, and God she was totally willing. Then Paulo’s phone rang, and he cursed under his breath just as Jim stepped up next to them.

‘Hey guys, if we have to wait, you have to wait,’ Jim said. ‘How about you save it for later, and help us finish up here so we can all get some relief?’

‘Vera waiting for you?’ David said, loud enough that his voice echoed off the brick, and Liza could smell Jim’s herby, woody, good-natured embarrassment at being caught out. David laughed. ‘No secrets at Martelli, and Vera isn’t keeping any either.’ He slapped several plastic bags in Paulo’s hands and snapped his fingers at Lucia and Angelo. ‘Get ’em off and clean up your bits, Martelli wants to smell you.’

‘Don’t brush it off,’ Liza said, when Angelo picked up his shirt off the ground. ‘The scent of a place as powerful and full of human memory as this has to be a part of what Martelli is trying to get.’

Angelo obeyed her without batting an eye, dropping his shirt into the zip-lock bag she was now holding for him, along with his trousers and underwear. Then with his eyes locked on her, he stood naked next to the statue of Hercules, wiping his cock on the towel David had handed him. The similarities weren’t lost on her, neither was the hot metal and spice scent of his lust, so different from the lust he’d spent on Lucia, but even while he had been inside the woman, even when he had seemed to be totally focused on the sex, she could smell his dark earth-scented press for her attention.

Without taking his eyes off her, he stroked and wiped at his wet penis, which was once again expanding in his hand. ‘I’m usually the voyeur, not the exhibitionist,’ he said. ‘But to be sniffed by you, Liza Calendar, I’m happy to expose myself.’ Then he dropped the used towel into the bag, and it was all she could do not to inhale his scent, especially when his cock pointed invitingly at her.

Paulo had stepped away and was busy talking on the phone to Coraline. Lucia was shamelessly flirting with Jim and David, and no one noticed when Angelo scooped Liza into his arms, pressing a hand into the small of her back and pulling her up tight against his heavy penis and his sex-fevered chest. ‘This is for you, Liza Calendar. Just for you.’ The kiss was both savage and fast, gunmetal and flint, sparks catching in dry grass and drowning summer rain all at once, and her knees buckled, but he held her just long enough to settle her onto her feet. He caught the bag as it slipped from her hand, and still holding her gaze, pulled the edge of the towel from it and she watched, the sound of her own breath drowning out all else as he stroked his cock twice, then three times, then with a grunt, spilled his semen into the towel.

‘For you, Liza Calendar, and when Paulo stops arsing around at the Mount and figures out it’s OK to share, there’s lots more where that came from.’ Then he turned his back on her and began to dress in the clothes he’d brought in his rucksack.

She felt like she’d been gut punched. She felt like she’d been fucked. She felt like she’d been ensnared in some sort of bizarre magic. What the hell was he talking about, when Paulo figures out it’s OK to share? What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

‘What did he do? What did he do?’

It took her a second to realize that Paulo had asked her twice as he slipped his arm around her, and the cold steel smell of anger cut through his scent like a knife. ‘What the fuck did Angelo do?’

‘Tell me about The Mount,’ she said, instead of answering the question. ‘I think you need to tell me all about The Mount.’ She looked up into his eyes. ‘This time no interruptions and nothing left out.’

Chapter Seventeen

It wasn’t what Paulo wanted, wasn’t his plan. Liza wouldn’t even ride back into Rome with him. She told him it was safer at the moment for her to be with Jim. Fuck Jim! Fuck Angelo! Fuck them all! Coraline had called to say, at Liza’s request, she’d had Jim deliver her to the villa and for him to meet them there. When he arrived, the footman escorted him to The Suite. The Suite was the heart of the Roman Mount. Whoever was the head of the High Council at the time had access to what was actually a huge apartment within the villa. The council’s head could reside there full-time until tenure was up, but no one ever did. The only one who ever actually stayed there was Coraline. Most everyone simply thought of it as her suite anyway.

The apartment, however, was not the reason why The Suite was the heart of the Roman Mount. The real reason was why they should have shown it to Liza last night before things got out of hand in the dungeon. Coraline met him at the door.

‘This was a bit of a muck-up.’ She didn’t give him a chance to reply. ‘Not yours. All of ours. Oh I don’t mean tonight. That went really well. I think we’ll have everything we need for the animal/al fresco scent, and Liza is pleased. But tell me, what were we thinking, letting her get away from the villa last night without making sure she knew exactly what The Mount was and what it was all about?’ Coraline’s rapid-fire monologue told Paulo that she was upset. ‘We can’t afford for Liza to be unhappy. We don’t want to keep secrets from her. We let last night pass without making sure our main, and really our only purpose was achieved. I don’t know if Angelo is aware of what he did, but I have every intention of flaying him properly for the mess he’s made. The man never seems to know when to keep his mouth shut and stay out of things.’

Paulo shivered at the thought of being flayed by Coraline Martelli. Even Angelo was a lightweight in the dungeon compared to Coraline. But then again, as far as he was concerned, Angelo deserved what he got.

‘Is she all right? Where is she?’ he asked, having no other real response to give Coraline.

‘She’s in the shower. Jim says she didn’t say a word all the way back from Ostia Antica.’

‘Did she tell you what Angelo said to her that upset her so?’ he asked.

She shook her head. ‘She said relatively little since she got here, other than she needed a shower.’

‘Well whatever it was, the bastard really upset her.’ Paulo said. ‘I couldn’t hear it. I turned around just in time to see the fucker …’ Christ! He couldn’t even say what he’d seen.

‘Coming in front of me.’ With a start, they both turned to see Liza standing by the door in a soft, floral summer dress, wet hair hanging loose around her shoulders. ‘You turned around just to see Angelo shooting his wad in front of me.’ Without a hint of a blush, without so much as a flinch, she looked from one of them to the other. ‘He told me that when Paulo stops arsing around at The Mount and figures out it’s OK to share, there was lots more where that came from. That’s what he told me.’ Before either of them could respond to Angelo’s bad behavior, she said, ‘I need to know what The Mount really is, and what it has to do with Martelli Fragrance. And what the hell does it have with Paulo and Angelo thinking they should share me?’

‘It has nothing to do with Martelli Fragrance,’ Coraline said. ‘It’s connected only in that I’m a member of The Mount, as my father was before me and both Martelli Fragrance and The Mount have been mutually beneficial to each other while at the same time being mutually exclusive. Martellis have been members of The Mount for a long, long time. Rita’s a member of The Mount in London.’ She paused for a moment to let that sink in. Coraline had told Paulo that Rita and Liza were good friends. She continued. ‘Quite coincidental there are several members of The Mount who work for Martelli, including David.’

‘It was my idea to use members of The Mount in the research for our new line,’ Paulo said. ‘And that idea only became something concrete, something I could actually put a plan with, when I met you, Liza.’

‘I’ve already been told that The Mount is a sex cult. Fidelia said that. I’m OK with that. I figured it was something like that when I was brought here to observe the threesome. I know for the kind of experiments we’re talking about, we aren’t going to be hiring people off the streets to help us. I understand that. I’m OK with that. What I’m not OK with is being broadsided with aspects of The Mount I know nothing about, aspects that clearly Angelo thinks should somehow have an effect on me.’

Paulo wished like hell he could smell her now. He needed to know what she felt, what was going on with her. He needed to know the two of them were all right. She could no doubt smell his discomfort, and it pissed him off that he had no way of hiding himself from her. He wasn’t used to being this vulnerable.

‘Paulo will show you the vaults,’ Coraline said, ‘and answer any of your questions.’ Though she knew The Mount and its history much better than he did, Paulo was relieved that Coraline was willing to let him handle it. He’d had a sneaking suspicion that she shared Angelo’s opinion. He was pretty sure everyone else at The Mount did. He should be OK with that. He knew that he should. ‘Paulo?’ Coraline interrupted his thoughts.

He motioned for Liza to follow him. As she fell in close behind him, he thought he heard her sniff, and he couldn’t keep from tensing, even as he knew that she would smell that too.

He led her to a central hallway in the huge flat, a hallway that had no windows and, at this time of night, no natural light. At the end of the hall, he pushed aside a thick velvet curtain to reveal a heavy wooden door, which opened inward onto a narrow stairway lit by evenly spaced wall sconces. Behind him, Liza caught her breath at the sight.

Liza could just make out the steep dimly lit stairway beyond Paulo’s broad shoulders. The scent of stone and age and dry dust filled her nose, for a second superseding Paulo’s tart citrus scent of nerves and the bite of irritation. ‘Another dungeon?’ she asked, though it didn’t smell at all like the dungeon she was in last night.

‘No dungeon. This is the heart of The Mount. If we had a holy of holies, I suppose this would be it.’

‘Then you really are some kind of cult?’

His chuckle sounded brittle. ‘I suppose some would see it that way, but no. This is a place where we keep our archives.’ He descended the steps. ‘The Mount has been around for a long time, and the Roman Mount is the oldest of all the covens.’

‘Covens? You’re witches? You practise magic?’

‘Not witches, no. But I doubt you’d find anyone in The Mount who would deny that there’s magic involved in good sex.’

At the bottom of the steps the scent changed, and she could smell parchment and old books. Above the arched doorway they passed through she looked up to see a simplified version of Venus and Mars embracing. Beneath the bas-relief written in Latin were the words, “The depths of our animal nature and the highest mount of our divinity”. Interesting that though Coraline Martelli claimed that there was no connection between Martelli Fragrance and The Mount that the same simple image of Venus and Mars embracing and the same motto graced the Martelli letterhead.

The vaulted room Paulo led her into reminded her of a wine cellar, but it was spotlessly clean, and the ceiling to floor shelves along either side housed books instead of wine. She leaned close and squinted at the volumes nearest the entrance. The gold gothic lettering was in Latin. It read, The Laws and Statutes of the Covens of The Mount.

‘There are lots of books of coven law,’ Paulo said. ‘And they’re not all in Latin. They’re near the door because they’re most often referred to, much more so than the older histories, though we consider the older histories far more valuable.’ Those books, she noticed, as she looked down the long row of shelves, were protected behind glass.

‘Someday Alessandro hopes to get everything on computer, but I think he’s only dreaming. Some of the histories are so old, so fragile that they’re not even kept in this room. There’s a temperature-controlled vault in the next chamber. The oldest and the most fragile manuscripts of Mount History are kept there.’

She grabbed at the wall to steady herself. ‘Let me get this straight. The Mount is a sex cult.’

Paulo nodded.

‘And it’s how old?’

‘No one knows for sure. We expect some of the earlier manuscripts were lost when Nero burned Rome.’

The room suddenly spun around her in a wave of vertigo. Paulo moved to steady her. ‘It’s a lot to take in, I know. You have to understand that there’s been very little time in Western history in which human sexuality hasn’t been controlled and regulated by either religion or government. The reasons for that control were most often property and inheritance, though both could be easily wrapped up in religious dogma. There have always been people who didn’t like someone else telling them how they should behave as sexual beings, who they should have sex with and under what circumstances. There have always been people who have felt that rational human beings, when given the right information, when given the freedom to enjoy what is clearly a natural part of their biology, would regulate their own desires with wisdom and self-control.’

‘So it’s not about wild orgies and sex parties then? I mean when I had a wander about last night, there was sex going on all over the gardens.’

‘It’s about celebrating our sexuality as consenting adults, Liza. That’s what it’s about.’

She pulled away from him and paced in front of the glassed in shelves, her eyes locked on row after row of books to avoid his gaze. ‘Then Angelo is right. About you sharing, I mean.’

‘You’re not a member of The Mount.’

‘Then what happened to me when I got caught sniffing in your office that first afternoon? What … what Fidelia and I did?’

‘What Fidelia and you did shouldn’t have happened. It was really reckless of Coraline to order it, though I don’t think she thought Fidelia would go that far. I don’t think she thought you’d let Fidelia go that far.’

Liza ran her fingers along the cool, wood frame of the bookcase. ‘Would she have given me a choice?’

‘Would you have wanted one?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said quietly, suddenly, strangely close to tears. ‘If you’d asked me that a few days before I met you in the lounge at JFK, I’m sure I’d have been horrified at the thought. Now,’ she looked up at him. ‘Now it just … excites me.’

He moved to her and took her in his arms, and she didn’t protest as he rested his chin on the top of her head. His relief and his concern for her blended into a herby, watery, sweet scent mixing with his own that she could never get enough of. She could also scent the question that was like hot pepper flakes on the tip of his tongue.

‘And you want to know how I feel about you sharing me with Angelo.’ His arms tensed around her and his scent became more metallic.

‘Well the truth is, it excites me.’ She laid a hand against his chest and pushed away just enough that she could look into his eyes. ‘Not that I want to be alone with him. But the idea of the two of you. The idea of the two of you sharing me, it excites me.’ She sniffed. ‘And you can’t say that it doesn’t excite you too, because I can smell that it does.’

He groaned and pulled her back to him, so tight that she huffed out a breath, then inhaled the woody, lightning storm scent of him aroused ‘God, Liza Calendar, you don’t play fair, you know that?’

She raised her mouth to his. ‘Do you want me to play fair, Paulo Delacour?’

At first his kiss was fleeting, as though he were afraid she’d run, but as she lifted her arms around his neck, the kiss deepened and warmed and was just beginning to heat up to the possibility of a good fuck against the bookshelves when there was a clearing of a throat, and they pulled a part to find Coraline standing at the foot of the stairs.

‘Sex is what distracted the two of you last night, and though The Mount is most definitely the place for sexual distraction, Liza’s not a member, Paulo. And she needs to see everything and understand everything before we run the risk of another nasty surprise from Angelo.’ She nodded to Liza. ‘Darling, why don’t you come with me, and I’ll show you around. Paulo, you go talk to Angelo. He’s in the dungeon.’

The angry scent of cold metal overrode the scent of Paulo aroused, but Coraline glared at him. ‘Do it.’

He stepped away from Liza, squared his shoulders, and nodded. But before he headed back up the stairs, he pulled her into a brutal kiss that had her heart racing and her knees turning to jelly. ‘We have unfinished business,’ he spoke against her mouth. Then he nipped her bottom lip, pulled away, and growled at Coraline before he headed up the stairs.

Chapter Eighteen

What Paulo had not expected was to find Angelo alone in the dungeon. The man was seldom alone when he was at The Mount, and he didn’t have to be. He was the most sought after sexual partner there, though everyone knew that if they wanted a chance at sex with Angelo, they had to meet him in the dungeon. There were plenty of people who were fine with that, but there were others who just had to settle for fantasies because they weren’t brave enough to meet Angelo on his home turf. And even Paulo knew that to meet Angelo anywhere else was to miss out on the full experience of the man’s sexuality. Though in all honesty, he’d never seen Angelo like he was tonight at Ostia, and he’d never imagined the man would join the party above ground. That made him only more aware of just how taken Angelo was with Liza.

He lay sprawled across the hard wood of the bondage bed in nothing but jeans. They were partially undone. His left arm was thrown over his face as though he were attempting to block out too much light, and his right hand stroked his cock absently from the breach. ‘Did Mum order you to come and make up?’ he asked without looking at Paulo.

‘Pretty much.’ Paulo moved into the room and leaned against one of the bed’s four posts.

‘Did you bring her?’

‘Jim did. Liza’s with Coraline at the moment.’

Angelo’s lips curled into a half smile, but he still didn’t move his hand or stop stroking his cock. ‘Giving her the grand tour, is she?’

‘Wants to make sure everything is above board so you can’t pull any more surprises out of your ass.’

Angelo chuckled wickedly. ‘Oh I have plenty of surprises still, and I don’t need to pull them out my ass, though I certainly could if our lovely Liza is into that sort of thing.’

‘Why don’t you just admit, she got to you tonight?’ Paulo said, then he immediately wished he’d kept his mouth shut.

‘I’d say she got to both of us, bro, and you unwilling to share your toys. Therein lies the problem. Didn’t your mother teach you better?’

Paulo bristled. ‘Liza’s not my toy.

‘Did you ask her?’ This time, Anglo moved his hand and pulled himself into a sitting position with his back against the headboard. ‘Did you ask her if she wanted to be our toy? I don’t think she would say no, Paulo, and I think that’s what really bothers you.’

Paulo sat down onto the bed next to him and shoved back against the headboard. ‘Oh I don’t think she wants to be a toy for either of us.’ He nodded down to Angelo’s cock. ‘I think the truth is, our Liza, as you so affectionately refer to her, would prefer for both of us to be her toys.’

Angelo raised an eyebrow and stopped stroking. For a long moment he sat in silence, then he shrugged. ‘I suppose I could live with that. Though I would enjoy tying her up and giving her some proper discipline. You certainly seemed to enjoy it last night.’

For a moment the two men sat in silence. The only sounds in the dungeon were their breathing and the skin on skin stroke of Angelo’s hand once again sliding up and down the length of his cock. Paulo was startled to realize that he recognized Angelo’s scent. Even in a darkened room, he would have recognized Angelo’s scent. He took a deep breath and held it, taking in the smell of the man he had known for a good deal of his life. Clearly he hadn’t bathed since he finished the experiment at Ostia Antica. In spite of his come-on to Liza, Paulo was sure that the experience had shaken him and that, rather than going to his flat, he had come here to think. Angelo spent more time at The Mount’s villa than any of the other members. There was a small suite set aside for him upstairs, as there was for all of the High Council members, but most of the time, if one of the dungeons was free, that’s where he ended up. Paulo sniffed again. Angelo smelled of sex and the kind of male perspiration that was clean, if a bit threatening. Paulo wondered if he sniffed a little harder he could still find Liza’s scent on him.

Angelo huffed a throaty laugh and lifted his arm so that Paulo could see the soft auburn fluff beneath, dampened and curling slightly. ‘Is our Liza giving you sniffing lessons?’ Then the smile on his face slipped and his eyes darkened. ‘You’re wondering if you can smell her on me.’ It wasn’t a question.

‘She likes the way you smell,’ Paulo said.

Angelo sniffed his armpit, his hand still working his cock. Then he leaned over and sniffed Paulo. ‘She tell you that, did she?’

Paulo didn’t answer.

‘That what set you off about me? Not that it usually takes much.’

Again Paulo didn’t answer. Where Angelo was concerned, the history ran deep and thick between them, and it was definitely a mixed bag.

There was more silence. Paulo watched Angelo work his cock, breathed in the scent of the man who could have anyone he wanted pretty much any time – in The Mount and out. He doubted anyone smelled more sexual than Angelo, and that intrigued him. He found himself wanting to know what Liza had smelled. She said he smelled good when he taunted her. He couldn’t help wonder if on some unconscious level that it was pheromones that made Angelo so universally attractive. Was there a universal pheromone like there was a universal donor blood type? He’d ask Liza. But even he had to admit, Angelo was a good choice for their experiments, even if he was a pain in the ass. Paulo shifted on the bed, suddenly aware that his own cock was responding to Angelo’s efforts, to Angelo’s scent, and, with a start, he noticed Angelo was looking at his fly.

‘You gonna let that thing out or you gonna force it to bust free on its own?’ the man asked with a hint of a crooked smile.

‘Fuck off,’ Paulo mumbled, but even as he said it, his hand was already working on his fly. He could still feel Angelo’s gaze locked on him, even though he’d closed his eyes with a sigh, and leaned back against the headboard, focusing on the smells of the dungeon, the smells of two alpha males with testosterone to burn and each with enough emotional baggage to fill the cargo hold of a 747. His own he was only too well aware of, but Angelo’s; no one knew Angelo’s baggage except for Coraline. Coraline could gossip better than anyone he knew. She knew everything about everyone, but to Coraline a secret was sacred, and the woman bore both of their secrets as though she knew neither of them. It was only in her treatment of them, in the way she moved and worked in their lives that either of them was ever aware of what she so carefully held for them.

‘So tell me,’ Angelo shifted slightly, and Paulo felt his bunched thigh muscles rub against his own, jean against jean, and the rustle of clothing told him he was probably freeing his balls. The shifting of shoulders let him know that the man had now engaged both hands in his efforts. ‘Tell me what you smell. I can hear you sniffing, Paulo. You’re not very subtle.’

‘Testosterone amped up by pheromones and a good hand job smells like a desert lightning storm with just a hint of diesel.’

They both opened their eyes with a start that made the solid wood beneath them groan. Liza stood at the foot of the stairs, nostrils flared, eyes bright, mouth slightly open like a cat taking in the scent of prey. ‘Don’t stop,’ she said. ‘Please. I’m in heaven.’

There was a mutual groan, and Paulo was sure that the thought of their scent being heaven to Liza Calendar made both men hot enough to self-combust.

‘What do you smell?’ Angelo asked. Paulo could hear the ache in his voice, and it surprised him.

‘I smell the hot metal of anger, but it’s anger cooling, the acidic bite of jealousy has nearly worn itself out. I smell evergreen and dry grass in the summer sun. I smell hot, damp earth.’ She stepped closer on tiptoes as though her footfalls might disturb her sense of smell. ‘I smell that yeasty scent of new-made bread. That’s such a masculine smell, a cock smell, a warm, damp, tetchy smell.’ When at last she stood with her thighs resting against the bed frame, she caught her breath. ‘And then I smell me. I smell the nutmeg of my intrigue at finding the two of you masturbating in the dungeon, I smell the honey butter of my arousal, the strong tea scent of impatience, of satisfaction denied.’

‘Fuck,’ Angelo whispered, and somehow it sounded like a plea for help.

She looked around the room and found the ladder-back chair Angelo had been sitting in when she was there last night. She pulled it next to the bed and sat down. ‘Please don’t stop,’ she said again. Her voice was breathless as she pulled their scent into her. At first Paulo thought he was imagining her shifting and rocking against the chair, it was so subtle. But he certainly wasn’t imagining the bullet points of her nipples straining against the deep scoop of her dress, and he was sure he could smell her. He sniffed and Angelo sniffed. They all sniffed.

Angelo shifted again and shoved his trousers down until his ass was bare against the thin leather padding of the bed.

‘We need this,’ she said, as Paulo did the same. ‘Martelli needs this. The smell of two men – the testosterone, the phenomenal jolt will drive women, and men, crazy. There’s a reason why women like reading male/male erotica,’ she said. ‘Imagine if they could smell it? Imagine if they could wear that scent, or have their lovers wear that scent? Man squared.’

‘Or if they could pick up someone in a bar wearing that scent,’ Angelo added. His laugh sounded raw, like it was raked through with sandpaper. ‘Come on, Liza Calendar. It’s hardly fair for you to sit there and watch us have a wank and not return the favour.’ Before Paulo could decide if he liked the idea of Liza masturbating in front of Angelo, the man addressed him. ‘What do you think, Paulo? Wouldn’t you like to watch our lovely Ms Calendar get her rocks off? Wouldn’t you like to see how she plays with herself while she sniffs a little male/male?’

For a second, Paulo had forgotten how to speak, so he nodded, then babbled that yes, he would like that, and he realized he really would, and he really didn’t mind that Angelo Serafini was watching. In fact the whole idea was pretty fucking hot.

A lovely pink blush started just between Liza’s breasts and rose over their rounded tops like the ripening of fruit in the sun as it climbed her neck and caressed her cheeks.

At first she cupped hard at her left breast, as though it suddenly pained her, as though it caused her discomfort, as though it didn’t sit quite right in the lacy bra he could imagine her wearing underneath. Angelo sucked breath between his teeth as she lifted her bottom from the seat of the chair and, with her eyes locked on them, she reached up under the skirt of her dress and wriggled out of her panties, then toed them off over her shoes, demurely keeping her knees together.

‘Fuck,’ Angelo whispered again. Paulo suspected that his vocabulary had become just as reduced by the riptide presence of Liza Calendar as his own had.

After that, she avoided their gaze, not in a shy or embarrassed way so much as a way that said she was having a private moment whether the two men on the bed were watching her or not and, Christ, that made it so much hotter than if she’d played the porn star and acted like she was flirting with the camera, like she was flirting with them. Instead, Liza focused wholly on the olfactory experience of the two of them on the bed and what it was causing to happen between her legs, at that delicious juncture hidden above her thighs. She squirmed, and then frowned as though she couldn’t quite get comfortable on the seat. The hand kneading her breast had worried the nipple to an obscene press against the fabric as she wriggled and sniffed and wriggled and sniffed some more. When her other hand began to ease its way up under the hem of the dress, Paulo had to thumb the end of his cock to keep control. In his peripheral vision, he could see Angelo doing the same.

Liza made no attempt to hide the fact that she was sniffing them, testing their scent, learning it, using it to heighten her arousal. All the while she shoved and scrunched at the dress until there was just a tight wad of fabric crushed in her palm up close and personal against her bare mons, obstructing the view of what Paulo and Angelo were both aching to see. The palm pressed, scrunched and relaxed, pressed, scrunched and relaxed in a motion that had to feel oh so good and yet not good enough. She sucked in a heavy breath and released it in a little whimper, then shifted until she could pull the fabric out from under her bottom. And when all that obstructed their view was her hand and the scrunched wad of fabric beneath it, she looked up at them, as though she’d only just realized they watched, as though begging their permission to indulge. Of course she had it. She shoved the fabric aside and looked down at her tightly trimmed curls as though this were the view she had also been waiting for. There was a collective moan from all three of them as she shifted again and opened her legs wide. With her eyes still locked on her mons, she slid her index and middle fingers down either side the heavy folds of her labia and pulled herself open.

Angelo released a strangled groan and Paulo went into shallow breathing mode to keep from coming as she began to thumb the garnet red press of her clit while slipping the two fingers up into her wetness, dipping and thrusting and rubbing until they glistened with her juices, and the smell of female heat joined the male-dominated scent in the dungeon. She bit her lip and wriggled her hips so that their view between her splayed legs was all the way back nearly to her anus. Then she uttered a little sigh. ‘Can you smell us all together, the three of us? My God, I want this scent! I want to wear this scent all over my body. And I want more, and …’ She looked up at them and caught her breath in a little sob ‘… I want it all blended together.’ Her eyes locked on Paulo, and this time he understood. He understood that she was asking permission to play. Next to him, Angelo had stopped moving, stopped breathing, almost as though he had turned into the same marble from which the statue of Hercules in Ostia Antica had been sculpted. To his credit, he said nothing. There were no rude comments, no egging on. Paulo took one breath, then another, and with each he took in her tidal pool and honey scent and the dark scent of male rubbing up against male, and he yielded.

He reached out his hand to her and her moan came out a little gasp as she closed her fingers around his and let him pull her onto the bed, her dress still bunched up around her waist, her breasts still threatening to heave themselves over the scoop of the bodice.

Angelo’s groan sounded nearly painful as he reached for her, impatient, and yet careful, as though he were afraid she still might run. The wallow of her on top of the two of them threatened the safety of cocks and balls before both men realized she was making space for herself in between, but not to sit as they did, rather to kneel. At first her mouth found Paulo’s with a devastating kiss that nipped and pushed and shoved its way into his mouth. And while she kissed him, she guided Angelo’s hand to her breast. He leaned forward to kiss and lick her collar bone, one hand fumbling for the zipper up the back of her dress, and once it was open, he tugged at it and the front hook of her bra until her breasts tumbled free into his hands, but not before she turned her attention to his mouth with the same devastation. Paulo had no time to feel the loss, as she guided his hand up into the velvety wet splay of her pussy, and he found himself once again battling for control.

‘Can you smell us? Can you smell us? Oh God, can you smell us?’ she whispered against Angelo’s mouth, and both men nodded dumbly, as their hands went exploring and she seesawed between them, her tongue first in Paulo’s mouth, then in Angelo’s, her fingers curled in their hair, pulling them to her mouth, darting back and forth as though she were testing two of her favourite dishes. ‘Can you smell us?’ With each kiss, she drew them both closer to her. ‘Oh God, can you smell us?’ And with each kiss the mingling of their breath in that place in the middle was a maelstrom of moist heat and hunger. Their heads were all but touching, shoulders were pressed to pectoral muscles, stomach muscles fought each other for space in their effort to pump oxygen, in their effort to get closer to any delicious part of Liza Calendar. ‘Can you smell it?’ she breathed the words half into Paulo’s mouth, half into Angelo’s. ‘Can you smell what I want? Surely you both have to smell it.’ With a wet slide of a kiss that crossed boundaries and glided over both their mouths and settled in between, her fingers curled to tight fists in their hair and with a whimper of need, she pulled back just enough that Paulo’s lips brushed Angelo’s, just enough that Angelo’s tongue glided across Paulo’s lower lip.

There was a harsh sucking of breath and the woman between them shivered. ‘Oh God yes! Oh fuck! You have to be able to smell that. It takes up all the breathing space. It’s like downing in lust.’ For a frozen moment, Angelo pulled away from Paulo just enough that the two men were nose to nose in their out-of-focus effort to search each other’s face for permission. Then Liza’s fists tightened in their hair, and the none-too-gentle pressure of her hands all but forced their mouths together again. The snake and glide of Paulo’s tongue in between Angelo’s lips, the yielding and opening of Angelo’s mouth combined with the slip of the man’s large hand to cradle the back of Paulo’s neck and pull him deeper into the kiss might as well have been a gigantic ‘permission granted’ sign.

Liza sniffed and breathed and nipped at jawbones and ears, resting a hand on each man’s outer shoulder in a three-way embrace. ‘I’m in heaven,’ she repeated. ‘I’m in absolute paradise.’

‘Fuck,’ Angelo whispered into Paulo’s mouth. ‘Oh fuck.’

It was quite possible that Liza was the only one with even half her brain engaged at the moment, as she shifted and shoved to move her way down their bodies while they explored each other’s mouths. Christ, it had been a long time since Paulo and Angelo had done anything even close to having sex with each other. Paulo was just thinking how good it felt when Liza simultaneously gave both of their sacs a cupping then fisted a cock in each hand and both men nearly skyrocketed off the bed. For a heartbeat, she held both of them, and Paulo was pretty sure he had totally forgotten how to breathe. Then she released their cocks and, did they both actually growl? But they needn’t have felt bereft. It took her a second to shrug the rest of the way out of her bra and dress, the latter she used as a towel, wiping it up over both their bellies in turn and then down under their balls and over the length of their erections. Then she pulled the dress to her face and inhaled and moaned and inhaled again.

They were a captive audience, completely hypnotized by Liza Calendar’s orgy of scent, her seeming worship of their bodies through that scent. She shoved the dress to the side, but not so far that it wasn’t touching flesh, and then she got down to business. And fuck what a business it was! First, she took Paulo’s cock into her mouth deeper than he would have thought possible, and she sucked and licked, all the while pumping Angelo with her fist. And then she switched and sucked Angelo’s cock.

‘Woman …’ Angelo gulped breath between his teeth ‘… you keep that up there’s gonna be a quick finish, and I don’t know about you, but I like to make my fun last. Besides …’ he curled his fingers in her hair and grunted as she sucked particularly hard ‘… I want to know if that lovely cunt of yours tastes anywhere near as luscious as it smells.’

There was a quick wordless exchange between Paulo and Angelo, and all the years fell away. Both men moved in unison, grabbing Liza beneath the armpit and hauling her up the bed in between them. There was another flurry of three-way kisses and then Paulo reached beneath the bed and pulled out a hank of soft rope. Angelo did the same on the other side. Liza let out a little yelp of surprise, then inhaled that surprise quickly as though she wanted to see how the appearance of the rope, how the mix of surprise with a tiny bit of fear would set with her nose. Both men took the mmmm that sounded almost like a cat purr to mean that the scent was to her liking. It was as though they shared the same thoughts as they worked wordlessly to bind her spread-eagle to the bedposts. From somewhere Anglo produced a leather rolled pillow and slid it under her hips, lingering to pinch her clit. And chuckle his satisfaction at her hiss of a response.

‘We’re not going to gag you, Liza, darling,’ Angelo’s voice was velvet smooth, ‘but you’ll need to keep quiet unless we ask you what you smell, or unless it’s too much for you, then use your safeword. If you break that simple rule, well, there’ll be punishment.’

She batted her eyes and nodded that she understood, all the while sniffing and snuffling like a wild animal who had been the predator but had suddenly become prey.

‘Paulo, why don’t you take first taste of that wet little pussy, and I think I’ll enjoy her lovely tits until it’s my turn.’ The sudden and rare emergence of the American accent was thick, almost a southern drawl as Angelo caressed and kneaded Liza’s breasts. Paulo didn’t wait for a second invite. He lowered his head for a look at the engorged, shimmery-slick landscape pouting and begging before him. And the scent, dear God, the scent of Liza Calendar was ecstasy. He shivered two fingers up from her perineum to open her heavy folds so that he could see the slippery path to pleasure in between. For a second, he stroked two fingers into her wet hole and watched in fascination as her grip tightened around them, and all but sucked them into her. Then he leaned in and nipped her clit between his front teeth. She growled, bucked hard against him, and Angelo chuckled. ‘Sonofabitch, bro, I think you made her come already. Where’s the delayed gratification? Where’s the making her wait?’

‘I’m not a patient man, Angelo,’ he breathed against Liza’s trembling swell. ‘And besides, this is only just a warm-up. You should know that.’ He stroked and caressed her hips and bottom until the tremors in her slit eased and then he dove in tongue first, and Liza went wild.

‘Hold still,’ Angelo commanded, ‘or we’ll have to punish you. Hold still and let Paulo eat. In fact, you look pretty hungry yourself. Maybe you’d like to eat.’ From somewhere Paulo hadn’t seen, Angelo produced another pillow and placed it under Liza’s head. Then he straddled her ribcage, cupped a breast in each hand and pushed them together until they formed a tight valley into which Angelo inserted his cock with a grunt. And Liza didn’t need any coaching. She knew exactly what he wanted. With each thrust, as his cock slid up through her cleavage, she lapped at the head of it as though it were ice cream on a summer day, and that tongue of hers seemed to have a mind of its own.

Paulo would have loved to closed his eyes and concentrated on the delicious seashore taste of Liza’s arousal and the smell that now coated his face, but he didn’t want to miss what Angelo was doing either, though he only got the occasional glimpse from beyond the tightening thrust and press of the man’s muscular ass cheeks and the grip and release, grip and release of his anus as he thrust.

‘What do you smell?’ Paulo said, pulling away and wiping his face on the inside of her thigh. And again it was as though the two men were working her in unison. Angelo found Paulo’s shed shirt on the bed and wiped her mouth, his cock, and the valley between her breasts, then tossed it to Paulo who wiped the scent from between her legs and then rubbed it all over his chest while both she and Angelo watched. ‘What do you smell?’ he asked again, circling her clit with an index finger, then giving it a tweak that made her suck air.

‘I smell cinnamon and burnt sugar lust.’ Angelo rose over her on his hands and knees, one hand pumping his cock fast and furious, the other fingering her pussy in time. She grunted and squirmed and spoke faster as though she feared she wouldn’t be able to finish. ‘I smell earth and flit and steel and the first spark in dried summer grass just before it bursts into flame.’ She threw her head back and arched against her bonds as Angelo buried his face between her legs and laved with his tongue her like she was dinner.

‘What else?’ Paulo urged, stroking his own cock for all it was worth. ‘What else do you smell?’

‘I smell the sea and honey and cream and lightning and rain in the desert. I smell citrus and hot metal. I smell hot pepper urgency and dark damp ground waiting to be cultivated.’ Just then her body stiffened as though her back would break and she came hard into Angelo’s mouth, but the man grasped her buttocks with both hands and held her still, eating at her mercilessly until she cried out in raw-throated sobs and convulsed against her bonds. And when she collapsed back against the bed, Angelo pulled away from her wet-faced and came to his knees between her legs, furiously pumping his cock. ‘Take her, Paulo.’ His voice was little more than a low growl. ‘Take her now.’ He bit back the last word with a harsh hiss as he came, his semen arching up over her belly and her breasts, the very act of which made her come again and Paulo felt his own balls tighten as he moved down between her legs and thrust into her warm slick depths feeling like he’d found his way home.

Angelo untied Liza’s arms almost as though he intuited what the woman would do next, and then he watched while she rubbed his cum against her skin as though it were expensive lotion.

‘You like that, don’t you, Liza Calendar. You like the feel of my jizz as much as you do the scent.’

She nodded and grunted, too breathless to form words.

‘Paulo’s going to fuck you now.’ He spoke first against her lips and then her throat. ‘He’s going to fuck you for both of us.’

Then he moved to untie the bonds from her ankles and she lifted her legs high around Paulo’s hips. For a second, Angelo remained at the foot of the bed watching, then one hand came to rest on Paulo’s shoulder. Paulo stilled, and Liza’s nostrils flared.

‘Oh God! Oh God! Oh my God,’ she whispered, her eyes darting from Paulo to Angelo and back again. She sniffed hard. Paulo knew she smelled the change in scent. He wished he could smell it. He wish he knew what it must be like for her. He could feel the vibrations of the tug, tug, tug of Angelo’s hand on his cock, which Paulo was certain was hard again. Then Angelo’s hand slid from Paulo’s shoulder down his back to rest for a second low on his hip, then his middle finger slid up into Paulo’s anus.

Liza’s sniff and moan became a low keening, as she clawed and clung and thrust against Paulo. ‘Smells like wet earth, smells like hot bread, smells like hot iron and cloves.’ Paulo scooped Liza close and rose up on his knees to give Angelo better access.

‘He’s going to fuck you.’ Her voice was a breathless gasp of incredulity.

‘I am, indeed,’ Angelo said. Then he spat on his hand, slathered Paulo’s anus and his own cock and shoved home in a thrust that nearly flattened Paulo onto Liza until they all caught their rhythm. ‘It’s been a while, Paulo,’ he whispered against his nape, ‘but you still take me with real gusto.’

Paulo made no response. He was too caught up in the moment, too caught up in Liza’s wonder. He could see it in her eyes, feel it in her body. One of her arms was curled tightly around his neck and the other had reached beyond to caress Angelo, whose response to her touch was damn near a purr, and Angelo did not purr!

‘Do it, lovely Liza,’ Angelo gasped, nipping at Paulo’s ear, then kissing her caressing hand. ‘We’re all ready. Finish it, so we can come together.’

She arched up, tightening her milking grip on Paulo just as Angelo thrust up hard in a follow-through and sure enough, they all came together. Liza’s cry was deep and guttural as her nails scored Paulo’s shoulder and both men roared their orgasms in unison as Liza whimpered with the last remains of her voice, ‘smells so good, smells so good, smells so good.’

Together the men cleaned Liza and each other and, at her insistence, they bagged their clothing in zip-locks to be taken back to the Martelli research facility. From a closet at the far end of the dungeon, Angelo produced generic grey sweat bottoms and T-shirts. ‘The Mount is well equipped with extra clothing,’ Paulo told her as she slipped into the over-sized T-shirt. ‘Clothing tends to get … damaged from time to time.’

Angelo had been strangely silent since their lovemaking and, really, Paulo could call it nothing else. Liza Calendar had gotten to him, he was pretty sure. And for some reason he no longer minded. For some reason, he wanted to slap the man on the back and tell him that he completely understood. He half felt guilty because he had every intention of driving the woman home and taking her again before the night was over. Though he found he had enjoyed their threesome far more than he would have thought possible, there was still a part of him that wanted her all to himself.

‘Is Jim still here?’ she asked as Paulo sealed up the last bag. ‘Will he take bags to the facility?’

‘We won’t wait until morning,’ Paulo said. ‘Coraline has a driver waiting to deliver them.’ He had called upstairs to find his boss was still in the Suite and not at all surprised that the three of them would be supplying new samples for the experiments. He knew her well enough to figure that was her plan when she sent Liza down to the dungeon.

‘I’m trying not to let my feelings get hurt because you wanted me just for my smell, darlin’’ Angelo said, then he gave them both a wicked smile. ‘On the other hand, for what we just did,’ he nodded toward the bondage bed they had just romped all over, ‘you can sniff me any time.’ He gave her a long, lingering kiss then, as an afterthought, he did the same to Paulo. While they both caught their breath, he settled back on the bed, looking a bit like the cat who ate the cream.

‘Sweet dreams,’ Paulo managed. Then slipped an arm around Liza’s shoulder. ‘Come on. I’ll take you home.’

They turned to find Jim and Coraline standing at the foot of the stairs.

‘Afraid you’ll have to let one of my drivers have that honour, Paulo,’ Coraline said, offering Liza an apologetic smile. ‘I need to see both you and Jim in the Suite.’

‘Your timing sucks,’ Paulo said. Then he pulled Liza into his arms and made no attempt to hide the kiss that turned into a full-frontal rub-up. ‘That’s a down-payment with a promise of what’s to come when I finally do manage to get you alone.’ He wasn’t sure if what he’d done was for Liza’s benefit or for Angelo’s. He didn’t mind sharing her with the man when they were together, but he wasn’t sure he liked the idea of leaving her alone with him. As they all turned to head back upstairs, Anglo flopped down on the bondage bed as though it were a primo mattress in a five-star hotel and stretched out with his arms folded behind his head as though they were already gone.

Chapter Nineteen

‘What the hell is so important that it couldn’t wait until morning?’ Paulo asked the minute the door closed behind the three of them in the Suite.

‘Sit down, Paulo,’ Coraline said.

‘Is it really going to take that long?’

‘I don’t know how long it’s going to take, now sit down.’ Her voice was soft as it always was, but there was no mistaken the sharp metal edge just beneath the velvet surface, the one no one with any sense of self-preservation would argue with. He found himself wondering what that edge would smell like to Liza.

As soon as he was seated on the burgundy leather sofa, she nodded to Jim.

The man cleared his throat and tugged at the tie Paulo was surprised to see he was still wearing.

‘What’s going on?’ Paulo asked, feeling the muscles in his shoulders tense.

‘Did you know that Liza Calendar has a relationship with Carl Blain?’ Jim asked.

‘What?’ Paulo nearly came off the sofa. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’

‘She took a tumble at Ostia. Oh, nothing serious,’ he shook an open hand as though he were erasing a chalkboard. ‘Her BlackBerry rang; she went to answer it and tripped on the uneven cobbles. I caught her before she fell, but not before the device went sailing into the verge. When I picked it up to hand it back, I saw that the caller was Carl Blain.’ He shot an apologetic look at Paulo. ‘Oh, I know she’s a journalist, and I discovered after the fact that her magazine did an article on the Blain Holdings what was it, six months ago? But it was the look on her face when she saw who it was that got my attention. I don’t know if she was unhappy about the call or if she was unhappy about the timing. She certainly didn’t realize that I saw who the call was from, but when I asked her if she needed to take it, she shoved the device into her bag and said no. It wasn’t important.’

Paulo ran a palm over his face, suddenly realizing just how tired he was. ‘Well maybe she said that because it wasn’t important. You just told me her magazine had done an article. I don’t think it’s all that unusual for someone who’s been interviewed by a magazine to get back in touch.’

Coraline nodded thoughtfully, and Jim shifted uncomfortably on the edge of an enormous wing-backed chair. ‘They were dating.’

Paulo’s heart stopped, then juddered forward. ‘Dating?’

‘Well it was obviously a long-distance sort of relationship with her living on the West Coast, but certain gossip columns were speculating about her possibly being the future Mrs Carl Blain, you know, sort of a Cinderella story.’

‘And?’ Paulo barely heard his own voice over the loud buzzing in his ears.

‘Well, she was seen going into his apartment building the night before she flew to Rome.’

Paulo gripped the arm of the sofa until his knuckles were white. Fuck! She had been with Blain the night before she was with him on the flight to Rome? Surely he couldn’t have misjudged her that badly, not Liza Calendar, not the woman he knew?

‘My point is,’ Jim continued, ‘it seems like quite a coincidence that Liza Calendar is with Carl Blain the night before her flight, then gets your attention on the flight in such a spectacular way.’

‘I came on to her. In the plane, I mean.’ Paulo struggled not to sound defensive. ‘And there was no place else for me to sit in the lounge but next to her. She couldn’t have planned that.’

‘Never mind the flight and the lounge,’ Coraline said. ‘It’s quite possible that was all just icing on the cake, an unexpected bonus.’

‘And don’t forget, security caught her sneaking into your office,’ Jim said.

‘But her story makes sense,’ Paulo argued. ‘She would have caught my scent and she would have been able to follow me there. You both know what she’s capable of.’

‘We know what she’s capable of,’ Coraline said, ‘but without the Martelli facilities, her capabilities are irrelevant, aren’t they?’

Paulo felt as though he were falling through the floor. ‘You think she’s working for Blain?’

‘Think about it,’ Jim said. ‘Think of all the coincidences, and us with the new line, the very expensive new line that’s already cost Martelli a fortune, all depending on her nose. It seems to me like the ideal set-up for Blain to use her to get to us and then force his hostile takeover – which he knows he doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of pulling off otherwise.’

‘Yes, the takeover.’ For an instant Coraline seemed miles away. Then she added, ‘Carl Blain is his father’s son’.

‘No.’ Paulo shook his head wildly. ‘Blain may be his father’s son, of that I have no doubt, but Liza wouldn’t do that. Liza would never betray us.’

‘Look,’ Coraline said, laying a hand on his knee. ‘We’re not saying that she would. We’re just saying that it’s a risk, and you need to be aware that there may be an enemy in the camp, and she may be someone we all thought we could trust.’

‘Does Rita trust her?’ Paulo asked.

Coraline blinked and straightened in her chair.

‘You said she was Rita’s friend. You said Rita helped arranged the Martelli connections Liza would need for the article she wanted to write.’

‘Lots of people take advantage of their wealthy connections,’ Jim said.

‘I can’t believe the two of you,’ Paulo stood and began to pace. ‘Rita trusts her. She’s helping Martelli in ways we never could have thought possible, and we pulled her into this. Don’t forget that, we pulled her in. If Rita trusts her that’s good enough for me.’

‘Rita’s loyal,’ Coraline said softly.

‘Look, Paulo,’ Jim stood to pace next to him, ‘all I’m saying is there are a helluva lot of coincidences here, and the more research I do, the more I’m inclined to doubt Liza Calendar’s motives.’ He raised a hand before Paulo could speak. ‘All I’m saying is be aware and keep an eye on her. You know the saying; “keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” Well you’re doing a good job of keeping her close, just keep it up.’

Paulo clenched his fists and held them tight to his sides resisting the sudden urge to punch Jim in the face. ‘She’s not the enemy.’

‘And you’re sure of that?’ Jim asked.

‘Are we finished here?’ Paulo turned his attention to Coraline. ‘Because I’m really tired and I need some rest. I have a busy day in the lab tomorrow.’

‘We’re finished,’ Coraline said.

He didn’t say good-bye; he just turned on his heels and headed toward the door.

‘Paulo,’ Coraline called. ‘All I’m asking is that you be aware of the possibility.’

He didn’t reply, but jerked the door open and did his best to slam it as he left. He was halfway down the hall toward the entrance to the villa, when he changed his mind, turned back through the house, and out through the gardens, all but running through the maze and past the fountains until he came to the entrance of the dungeon. He let himself in and took the stairs two at a time.

‘Back so soon?’ Angelo asked without looking up. He was still sprawled on the bondage bed as he had been when Paulo and Liza left. ‘Did you decide since you couldn’t get Liza alone, you’d settle for me? I’m flattered, but …’ as he rose to one elbow and looked up at Paulo, his words died in his throat. ‘What is it, bro? What’s wrong?’

‘I need a favour.’ Paulo sat down on the bed next to him.

‘Tell me.’ Angelo pulled himself up and sat with his legs crossed while Paulo told him what had happened upstairs.

‘That’s bullshit.’ He said when Paulo finished. ‘I don’t know Jim. But I know Coraline. She’s usually more intuitive than that.’

Paulo released a heavy breath. ‘There’s a lot at stake, like she says.’

‘And you want me to do a little snooping?’

Paulo held his gaze. ‘You know I wouldn’t ask –’

‘If we both didn’t have a warm spot for our lovely Liza? Yes, I know. And you don’t have to ask where she’s concerned. But in the meantime, there’s something you need to do that’ll give you peace of mind, hell, give us both peace of mind really.’

Paulo raised an eyebrow.

‘Ask her.’ Angelo swung his legs over the edge of the bed to sit next to him. ‘Ask Liza about Carl. Ask her to tell you what happened.’ He held Paulo’s gaze. ‘Often a helluva lot of trouble and energy could have been saved if people would just ask.’ His lips curled into a tight smile. ‘In the meantime I’ll do some research of my own. Jim’s a paper-pusher and a Martelli cheerleader. He’s not an expert when it comes to finding the dirt. If he were, I’m pretty sure he’d find the dirt at Carl Blain’s door and not Liza’s.’ He gave Paulo a sharp slap on the back. ‘Go home and get some sleep, bro. You look like hell, and I know it’s not because you were poorly slept with. Get some shut-eye, calm down, and then tomorrow, take the woman out for lunch, or even breakfast, and ask her.’ Angelo stood long enough for a good, hard stretch, raising muscular arms toward the ceiling, then he dropped them with a shake and sprawled back onto the bed. ‘Turn out the light when you leave,’ he said as Paulo stood to go. ‘A man needs his beauty sleep, you know.’

At the steps, Paulo reached for the light switch and turned back to thank Angelo. But he had rolled onto his side with his back to Paulo, and though he looked to be already asleep, Paulo knew he was ruminating on what he’d just heard.

‘Thanks, bro,’ Paulo said softly, then he turned off the light and climbed the travertine steps into the moonlight.

Chapter Twenty

‘You’re going to need a boost midday to keep you going after the night you’ve had.’ Vera’s smile was wicked as she met Jim’s gaze through the mirror in front of which she stood worrying a tiny purple thong up over her exquisite ass. Jim met her eyes briefly, but he couldn’t keep his gaze off the brazen points of her nipples that crowned the stippled pinch of generous areolae on bare and way more than adequate breasts. Watching her reflection in the mirror, as he was, he’d been enjoying the shimmy and dance of her spectacular frontage as she put on her make-up. While he ogled her delicious front through the mirror, he also got a great view of the pillow-puffed heart shape of her bottom, with the occasional glimpse of her pink pussy when she bent forward toward the mirror to finesse her make-up. Had it been just twenty, maybe thirty minutes since he’d had his cock buried in the lovely little slit with her sitting on top of him whimpering and mewling and tugging at her bouncing tits? And that was just the last time. She was waiting in his flat when he got back from The Mount last night. He’d given her a key. After all, everyone knew that they were doing the nasty. He was amazed at how easily he’d been able to pump out another load this morning after the way she had ridden him and sucked him, and now here he was with his cock at a half-mast pressing against his Armani again.

‘Afraid I’ll have to settle for coffee and lots of it,’ he said.

‘I was thinking a nice blow job, you know, with me under your desk sucking and cupping.’ Her giggle was throaty and thick. ‘Who would know?’

He grunted. ‘Liza Calendar would know. That’s who.’

‘So what? You get a lunch break. It’s none of her business what you do on it.’

‘I just don’t like the idea that she can smell when I’ve had sex. It creeps me out. I mean it’s amazing, don’t get me wrong, but some things you just don’t want the employees to know, even if they are on special dispensation.’

She glanced over her shoulder, then she went back to work on her mascara. ‘Is she really that good?’

‘She’s that good and then some. At first I thought she was a fake, you know? I mean how can anyone have that good a sense of smell? But she’s the real deal.’ He moved to Vera’s side and fumbled with his tie. ‘I just wish I trusted her a little more.’

‘Oh?’ Her mouth was shaped like a lion about to roar as she did her bottom lashes.

‘It’s nothing. It’s just, well some of her associations are a bit questionable, that’s all.’ And he’d already said too much. Christ, what was it about Vera that made him so talkative? He was usually very tight-lipped.

‘Associates, like who?’ She said, going back to her make-up.

For a second he watched the dance and sway of her breasts. She must have sensed him watching, but maybe it was just her way. She put the mascara back in her bag and stood admiring her efforts, absently cupping the breast closest to him and stroking the nipple with her thumb. ‘Anyone I know?’

‘Do you know Carl Blain?’ Fuck, how had that slipped out?

She’d gone to pinching and tugging while still staring in the mirror at her reflection. ‘I’ve heard of him, yes. Some big businessman in the States, right?’

‘Apparently she’s dating him.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘The woman gets around.’ Now both hands were cupping and tugging and she looked into the mirror as though her thoughts were on something else entirely. She was horny again. He doubted she’d heard a word he said, and his cock was responding nicely to her caresses in spite of the hard workout she’d already given it. He moved closer, slapped one hand away, and went to work on the nearest breast with his lips. His cock was now in full press-up position, urging him on.

She moaned and slipped her hand, which now had nothing else to do, into the front of her thong and the jerk and shift of her wrist and forearm muscles told him she had found the sweet spot. ‘So, are you going to take me to the research facility today? I really do want to see where it all happens. I mean I have a degree in chemistry, you know. I would love to see the process in action.’

‘Yeah, why not?’ He unzipped his fly and moved in behind her. She pulled the back of her thong out of the way and pressed her bottom toward him, opening her legs, as he parted her slippery pussy lips with his fingers and slid in with a tight grunt. ‘I’m going there anyway this afternoon. How about I give you a tour? There’s a really,’ he thrust hard, ‘really nice broom closet on the second floor that no one uses.’

‘Mmmm. For me, the broom closet is always the highlight of a tour, Mr Dryer. It sounds perfect.’

And, he thought, as he slid a hand over her mons to tweak her clit, it was far enough away from where Liza Calendar would be working that she wouldn’t smell them. He’d take Vera there after they saw the actual facility. God, he just hoped Paulo took their little conversation at The Mount’s villa to heart. He knew he was fucking the woman, but there was way too much at stake for him to think with his cock, or even worse with his heart. And the evidence didn’t look good at all. Thinking that Liza might be working for Carl Blain nearly caused him to lose his erection, but then Vera’s pussy clamped down on his cock and focused his attention very firmly on the business at hand.

Honestly, Liza. I just can’t end it this way. I owe you so much, not the least of which is an apology for my stupidity, for my total moronic stupidity! But a message on my voicemail is just not something I can settle for. Please call me back. At least meet me and let’s talk this out like two adults. Please.

Liza ground her teeth at yet another fucking message from Carl. Why the hell was he to think he had the right to feel wounded by her? It was what it was, and frankly she didn’t give a damn who he porked. She just wanted him to leave her alone, especially now when things were just getting truly interesting. Damn it, she supposed she would just have to bite the bullet and have a messy conversation with him to get it all over with. She’d really thought the phone call she made would have finished it.

‘Morning,’ Paulo said, sliding onto the stool next to her. Fuck, he looked good in the white research coat, and his scent, dear God, his scent was heavenly.

‘Morning,’ she replied with a little sniff. ‘You’re not going to believe all the lovely scents we got last night. Plus we’ve got several zip-locks from private erotic sessions some of The Mount’s members sent in. It’ll be good to compare how sex smells when no one’s observing. I’d also like to get out in the city tonight and pick up on some scents in a group situation. I think if we’ve got … Paulo? What’s wrong?’

‘You all right?’ he asked. She could see his pulse beating against his throat.

She smiled up at him from her notes, suddenly feeling a different kind of nerves, but she ploughed ahead. ‘Never better. A little sore, but I had fun getting that way. You?’

When he didn’t answer, she laid her pen down and found herself drowning deliciously in his creamy coffee gaze. ‘What? What’s going on?’

‘You’re all right with The Mount then, and what goes on there?’ A blush flashed over his cheekbones. ‘I mean I guess you must be after, you know, with Angelo and me and all.’

‘Paulo,’ she laid a hand, gloved in latex, on the sleeve of his coat, ‘are you all right with what happened last night, because I wouldn’t have … I wouldn’t have done what I did if I’d thought you weren’t.’

He nodded briskly, all businesslike again, and pulled her notepad to him for a peek. ‘I’m all right with it. Really I am. Angelo’s a pain in the ass but he’s also a good friend.’ The blush was back. ‘More than a friend at one time, but I guess you could probably tell that,’ he said, avoiding her gaze.

She picked up the pen and worried it between her fingers. ‘Thought that might be the case, yes. That doesn’t bother me either, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

‘It’s not that, I mean I don’t mind that you know Angelo and I have a history. It’s just, well, I’m amazed by the whole experience, actually. I mean things haven’t been good between Angelo and me for a while, and Angelo, well Angelo’s a law unto himself. He’s unpredictable at the best of times, but I’ve never seen him like he was with you. Me, he figured he could have, and I’d be OK with it. But then, I hadn’t expected how he … the way he actually …’

‘The way he deferred to you when it came to having sex with me. I know. I got that, and it surprised me, I have to admit. So what’s the problem then?’

‘I’m just …’

‘You’re just what?’

‘Well, I’m sorry I didn’t get to go home with you. Seems like we never quite manage any serious alone time.’

‘Paulo, I can smell you, remember? And you smell like swamp mud.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t mean you smell like swamp mud, but the fact that something’s bothering you smells like swamp mud. Are you angry at me for what happened? Did I do something wrong? What’s eating you? I can’t sit here and work next to you with you smelling like that and me not knowing why.’

His laugh was self-conscious, like he’d been caught masturbating in the men’s room. ‘God, a conversation with you has interesting twists and turns, Liza Calendar.’

‘Talk to me and I won’t have to tie you to the post and sniff you up.’

He laughed again and shifted to face her, raising his eyes almost shyly. ‘That’s a proposition I could be totally tempted by. If you’re threatening, you’re going to have to do better than that.’

‘Then tell me before I get nasty.’

‘Are you sleeping with Carl Blain?’ he blurted out, and she dropped the pen on the floor with a clatter that sounded like a car crash in the silence.

She smelled the adrenaline surge of her anger like burnt coffee. ‘No, I’m not sleeping with Carl Blain. If I were sleeping with Carl Blain I wouldn’t be sleeping with you. I’ve never slept with Carl Blain. I had a couple of dates with him. Oh, I know what a few of the gossip columns said, but I don’t know where they got their ideas, and really, it was something that just could have never worked.’

‘Why?’ His gaze was now locked on her like a pit bull, and though he didn’t seem angry, it was clear she wasn’t going to get away without full disclosure. ‘Why would it have not worked?’

‘He makes me sneeze.’

The burst of laughter made his eyes sparkle and then water. ‘He makes you sneeze?’

‘I know, right? I mean I tried taking allergy pills, and they suppressed my sense of smell so I could date him, but he wanted more, and well, in the end I had to trust my nose, I mean who wants to have sex with someone who makes them sneeze, and who wants to have sex with someone who sneezes all over them?’

He wiped tears of laughter from the corners of his eyes. ‘You’re amazing, Liza Calendar. The man makes you sneeze.’ He was suddenly serious again, and he swallowed hard. ‘But you were with him the night before you flew to Rome.’

She felt heat rush to her face. ‘Not that it’s any of your business, but I went to his apartment, yes. And yes, I knew that he wanted sex. I was early.’ She hmphed out a laugh. ‘Looking back, I guess I just wanted to get it over with. When I got there he was … already occupied, and from the smell of his flat, he was frequently occupied with a variety of partners.’

‘Bastard,’ Paulo hissed.

She smiled. ‘Doesn’t matter. Frankly it was like a get out of jail free card. I was just going to sneak away and send him a text saying so long. But then I started sneezing. He and the chick he was porking saw me. I sneezed all the way out the door and halfway to the Airport Hilton, where I spent my very exciting last night in New York City reading a romance novel I downloaded on my Kindle. So no. I’m not seeing Carl Blain and no, I’ve never fucked the man, and how the hell did you know about Blain?’ But before he could reply she remembered. ‘It was Jim, wasn’t it? Carl was calling when I tripped and dropped my BlackBerry at Ostia. Jim must have seen the caller ID. I thought he acted strange afterward.’

Paulo bristled again and the air smelled of hot metal. ‘Why was he calling?’

‘For the life of me, I don’t know. I left a message saying no harm no foul. I mean I can’t blame the man for fucking someone else when I kept putting him off. I’ll probably have to bite the bullet and talk to him to finally get it all behind me, but I’m not thinking about that now, so can we get back to work? We have so many lovely scents here to work with and, in my head, I can already picture most of these fragrances and what’ll set them apart and make them send the message we want.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Did you sleep at all last night or did you just come right on over here?’

‘When you couldn’t go home with me to distract me with your lovely scent, I arranged to ride with the driver Coraline was sending over to the facility with the bagged clothing.’ She shrugged. ‘I worked until I got too muzzy-headed, then I caught a couple of winks on the sofa in the lounge. After that I made coffee and raided the vending machine and voila! We’re so close, Paulo, and it’s all so exciting to have such an olfactory orgy. I’m getting way more from my Roman holiday than I expected.’

Chapter Twenty-one

Carl’s laughter was hot on Vera’s neck. ‘Seriously?’ He pulled her up tight against him until she could feel the hard press of his erection through her linen skirt. Then he slid a hand inside her panties. ‘It’s her sense of smell they’re after? The woman was on allergy meds the whole time I knew her.’

Vera elbowed him away. ‘Look I know it sounds ridiculous, but after all the money Martelli has already spent on research, Coraline wouldn’t be handing the new line over to Liza Calendar all tied up with a pretty red bow if she didn’t think the woman could perform.’ She elbowed him again as he grabbed her breast. ‘I’m on my way to the research facility, Carl, and if I smell like you, she may know.’

‘That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,’ he said.

‘No it’s not,’ she shoved him away again, and he cursed out loud. ‘I’ve got a lot at stake here too, you know. I don’t know why Jim Dryer has connected you with Liza, but your name has been raised and that can’t be good.’

He sat down on the edge of the bed and watched her with hooded eyes. ‘Look it’s no secret that I dated the woman, and if they suspect her of working with me, well, I can’t see that as anything but good really. I mean think about it. Dryer is sleeping with you. He’s now confiding in you. Coraline Martelli has even let you fill in for he prissy little PA. You’re a trusted employee at Martelli. Sowing a few seeds of mistrust in Liza Calendar’s direction can only serve us well.’ He unzipped his fly, released his cock, and began to stroke. ‘And I think I might have an idea of how we can just encourage those seeds to grow into a nice crop of distrust when the time’s right.’ He nodded down to his erection. ‘Let me think about it while you take care of this for me. Oh for fuck sake! You can brush your teeth before you leave.’ He offered her a wicked smile. ‘You always were a tidy eater.’

Later, feeling much more relaxed, Carl watched as Vera touched up her make-up, and let herself out of the hotel room, then he began to pace. It had been his plan all along to get Liza Calendar to pull a few strings and open a few doors into Martelli for him. But he figured, like most career women, she harbored secret hopes of finding a rich, affluent husband to father her children and raise her status and her income. He really figured he was just the ticket for Liza Calendar, and once she had stars in her eyes, she would get any information from Martelli he needed. But the way the tables had turned, she was going to be even more useful to him, and it would give him the perfect opportunity to get back at her for thinking she could just walk away from him like he was a nobody. Oh, yes. This was going to be lots of fun.

‘Put emotion into it, yes, I got that, but how exactly do you think we should go about putting emotion into the new scents?’ Paulo asked. Late afternoon sunlight flooded through the window of the break room at the research facility. Paulo stuffed half of a chocolate Milano into his mouth and tossed back the last of his espresso.

‘Scent changes with emotion,’ Liza replied, then she sniffled and reached for a tissue from a nearby box. ‘And certain of those scents added in just the right quantity could really be that little something extra in a fragrance that would transform it from nice to unforgettable, which is what we want. You know, sort of like what happens when chocolatiers add pepper to chocolate. Emotions run high and change fast in, say a club or a bar.’ She sniffled again then sneezed.

‘Are you alright?’ Paulo handed her the tissue box. ‘You’re not getting a cold, are you, because that would be a disaster right now.’

She blew her nose and sneezed again. ‘Your concern is touching,’ she half laughed.

He leaned closer. ‘Well Blain is definitely not here, and if your nose even considers me making you sneeze, I’ll whisk you back to the villa, tie you to the bondage bed, and have my way with you sneezing and all.’

‘Oooh, Mr Delacour, I’m all aflutter.’ She snuffled, then leaned forward and sniffed his throat. ‘Trust me, what I smell radiating off you makes me want to do a lot of things, but sneezing’s not one of them.’ She pulled away and sneezed three more times into the tissue.

‘Maybe it’s something the cleaners are using?’ Paulo said, reaching out to rub her shoulder.

Just then Jim walked into the room with Vera at his side. He looked all professional, but in spite of her sneeze-athon, Liza could smell the lust swirling between the two of them. Though Jim’s herby scent didn’t much turn her on, it certainly had never made her sneeze. Vera’s scent had never made her sneeze either, though her it always made Liza think of overly ripe peaches on the verge of rotting with just a hint of something acidic. Between both of them, she could smell the slight citrus of nerves, but then Paulo was the boss and he was certainly smart enough to know that Vera didn’t really need to be here.

‘I thought I’d give Vera the tour,’ Jim said with an overly enthusiastic smile. ‘She’s never been before, and it’s nice for employees to see how things work. Gives them a vested interest.’ The scent of nervous citrus spiked as they both offered a forced chuckle.

‘And what do you think of the place?’ Paulo asked.

‘Oh, it’s amazing!’ Vera gushed. ‘I’m so excited to finally see where it all happens. A bit disappointed, though, that it took so long to wrangle a tour.’

‘Before Liza came along, even Jim didn’t get here often,’ Paulo said, ‘Martelli didn’t hire him for his nose.’ Liza didn’t need the harsh bronze undertone to tell that Paulo was unhappy with Jim. She wondered what was going on.

‘Yes,’ Vera smiled over at Jim, ‘He had other important skills.’

Jim blushed hard and then tugged at his tie and the nervous citrus scent dominated the air once again. ‘So how’s the research going?’ he asked, suddenly all business.

‘Making great progress,’ Paulo said as Liza sneezed once more.

‘You’re not catching a cold, are you?’ Vera asked, the citrus scent still dominated the olfactory cocktail that she and Jim had brought into the room.

‘Nope.’ Liza spoke into the tissue. ‘Probably just something the cleaners use here that I’m not used to.’

‘So what’s the plan?’ Jim asked, pulling out a chair for Vera and sitting down across from the two of them. Liza sneezed again.

‘Liza has something up her sleeve,’ Paulo said before Liza could respond. The smell of nerves clashed with the bronze scent of irritation that rolled off Paulo. Something definitely wasn’t right. Liza certainly understood men thinking with their cocks, but most of them were careful to keep their work out of it. Work involved power and, if anything, the testosterone was even higher where power was concerned than where lust was concerned. Of course the two were pretty closely connected. Surely Paulo wasn’t upset that Jim was fucking Vera, not considering what the two of them were doing. Jim wouldn’t be in the position he was in if he couldn’t be trusted, and Vera, well Vera was an employee in good-standing – as far as Liza knew. Paulo could hardly blame Jim for taking her up on her offer. Though she couldn’t say that the two of them smelled right together, if Jim couldn’t smell her, and he was getting laid on a regular basis, no harm done, Liza figured. She sneezed again.

‘Maybe it’s something someone heated up in the microwave that’s making you sneeze,’ Jim said.

‘I suppose that’s possible,’ Liza replied, blowing her nose. ‘But whatever it is, I need to get out of here or my sense of smell will be worthless.’

She and Paulo said their goodbyes and left the break room to Jim and Vera.

‘The way you’re sneezing, I keep half expecting to run into Blain around the next corner,’ Paulo said once they were in the hall.

She was thinking exactly the same thing, and it was really creeping her out. But by the time they got back to the lab, the sneezing had stopped and the possessive, ozone, and desert heat scent of lust rolling off Paulo made the butterflies low in her belly take flight.

Chapter Twenty-two

‘Can you smell that?’ Liza shouted at Paulo in order to be heard above the music.

He closed his eyes and sniffed hard but all he could smell was watered-down alcohol and sweat overlaid by too much cheap cologne.

She slid her chair around next to his and spoke in his ear. ‘The couple behind us. From him, I smell acidic jealousy, and rusty-metal anger. The woman, she smells like female lust, wet earth and sea wind. She’s flirting with that guy over there.’ She nodded to a man at the bar, who was checking her out. ‘He smells like a predator, all copper-sweet and chlorine sharp,’ she said. ‘He’s on the hunt, and he’s got his eye on the chick behind us.’ She sniffed, then closed her eyes and sniffed again. ‘She doesn’t smell very faithful.’

‘What does faithful smell like?’ Paulo shouted back.

‘Ah, faithful is a difficult scent to catch sometimes because it’s so foundational. It’s almost sweet, but not quite,’ she said. He could tell by the upward twitch of on corner of her mouth and the way she drew her brow that she was trying to find words for the scent. At last she spoke. ‘It’s like vanilla or cinnamon, neither is sweet alone, but they always give that intimation of sweetness, like they should be even if they’re not. Faithful smells basic. Like it just has to be there for things to work. Sort of like the gasoline smell that goes with cars,’ she added, almost as an afterthought. ‘There’s a slight hint of bitterness, you know? Those things that blend best with sweet are often bitter at their root and uncomfortable, but it’s the bitter-sweet anchor that holds them together.’ She looked up into his eyes. ‘I’m not smelling any of that from the chick behind us. I think faithful is not a part of her makeup right now.’

They both watched as the woman whispered into the ear of the man she was with and headed off toward the bathrooms, leaving him staring into his beer. ‘Textbook,’ Liza said. The man at the bar followed her with his eyes, then shot her date a glance, downed his drink, and headed in the same direction.

‘Come on.’ Liza stood and grabbed Paulo’s hand. They weaved their way in and out of the crowd, not to the bathrooms, but out the fire escape and into a narrow side street where several people milled around smoking and chatting. They skirted the white haze of cigarette smoke and slipped into the edge of the alley. There she stopped in her tracks, laying a hand against his arm. Cautiously she pulled him out of the reach of the streetlight and into the shadows against the wall just as the woman stepped out of the back door behind the bathrooms. It wasn’t more than a heartbeat before the man from the bar joined her. With barely a word, the two were at each other’s mouths as though they were starving. The man’s hands roamed over the woman’s breasts, pinching nipples and kneading flesh like it was bread dough, all the while raking himself against her. Liza had her eyes closed and each breath was subtly drawn out just enough that Paulo could tell she was sniffing. Paulo tried to do the same, but the wet sounds of tongue on tongue and the animal grunts that were getting louder made it impossible for him not to play voyeur.

The man slid his hand up under the woman’s skirt and into miniscule panties, and she gyrated and shifted against his fingers once he found her sweet spot. Paulo’s cock tightened in response as little whimpers and gasps joined the soundtrack. Next to him, Liza seemed agitated. She sniffed hard and shook her head. Then she grabbed him by the wrist and they moved a few mincing steps closer.

Meanwhile, the man spun the woman around to face the brick wall and she bent forward while he shoved her skirt up over her hips and fingered her open with one hand, the other fumbling with his fly. ‘You want my cock, don’t you, bitch? You want it up your cunt,’ the man said in guttural Italian.

‘It’s not right,’ Liza whispered. ‘It’s not the scent we need.’ Before Paulo could respond, she grabbed his hand and pulled him back out into the street, no longer trying to be quiet.

‘What the fuck?’ The man looked up from his efforts and the woman gave a little gasp of surprise.

‘Sorry,’ Liza said. ‘Didn’t know this place was already taken.’ By the time they stepped out into the glow of the streetlight, the couple’s attention had returned to each other, and Paulo was struggling to walk around his erection.

‘What was it? What was wrong with the way they smelled?’ He shifted his hips in an effort to make his cock set more comfortably in his trousers.

‘There could be a place for jealousy in the fragrance, and definitely for that sense of forbidden excitement that comes from being sneaky, from fucking where you’re not supposed to. We already got that from Ostia Antica. But those two, what they were doing, it’s more the moldy bread scent of boredom I smelled on them. It’s more calculating … more, well like that smell of plastic, you know, the smell of something not genuine.’

There was an element in her words that eased the weight in his trousers. Yes, he wanted to fuck her. He always wanted to fuck her, but there was nothing arousing about what she was expressing.

‘What then?’ He asked.

‘I don’t know, but boredom is definitely not the message you want in a fragrance.’ She ran a hand through her hair. ‘Something’s still missing.’

‘The smell of faithfulness?’ Paulo asked, glancing over his shoulder to the alley they’d just left.

‘It’s not that. It’s something else. Something we’re just not quite catching.’ She stood for a moment, looking up and down the street and biting her lip. Paulo wished he could scent her when she was lost in thought like she was now. It must be an amazing smell. At last she spoke. ‘Take me back to the lab, Paulo. I need to check things again.’

It was well after two in the morning when he finally convinced her to give it a rest. Neither of them had slept the night before after their time in the dungeon with Angelo, and they weren’t going to make any more progress as tired as they were. Though he’d had hopes of having Liza Calendar all to himself and fucking the woman senseless, what they both needed tonight was rest.

Liza answered her BlackBerry without checking who it was. Early morning light was streaming through the window and she was just out of the shower. She figured it was Paulo calling to say good morning, but her smile evaporated at the sound of Carl’s voice on the other end.

‘Thank goodness you finally decided to at least forgive me enough to answer my calls, Liza.’

‘Carl,’ she took a deep breath and hoped he couldn’t hear the nerves in her voice. ‘I already returned your call. I thought we were all sorted.’

‘I’m sorry, Liza, but I can’t just leave things as they are. I need to see you, to apologise face to face. Did you get my flowers?’

‘I got them, and you shouldn’t have sent them.’ When the huge bouquet had arrived, nearly obscuring the deliveryman behind them, she’d torn up the note and had tipped the man to take them to the hospital where he was making his next delivery. She seated herself at the vanity and began toweling her hair. ‘I don’t need you to apologize face to face, Carl. Everything’s fine, it’s all good as far as I’m concerned.’

There was a windy-sounding sigh on the other end of the phone. ‘Look, Liza, I’m here in Rome and I really would like to see you. At least let me down gently over coffee. My treat.’

‘You’re here. In Rome?’ Her heart did a nosedive and her stomach went cold. ‘What are you doing in Rome?’

‘Oh for heaven’s sakes, Liza, I’m here on business. I’m not stalking you or anything.’ The hurt in his voice was palpable, and she kicked herself for the surge of guilt. Why the fuck was she feeling guilty? She wasn’t the one who had been caught bare-assed humping a bimbo on the kitchen counter.

‘Look, all I’m asking is a tiny bit of your time. Give me a chance to apologise properly at least. Come on, Liza, give me a chance to place my head on the block and offer you my neck.’

‘I don’t want your neck, Carl.’

‘Please. Just coffee.’

‘Carl, I don’t –’

‘You’re staying at Bernini Place, aren’t you? I could even come there if you’d like.’

‘No. Carl, look,’ she made a face at herself in the mirror. The one thing she didn’t want is him coming here. ‘All right! I’ll meet you for coffee.’ After he’d given her an address for a coffee shop, she hung up and threw the towel across the room. It had been her plan to spend a couple of hours walking in Central Rome today taking in the sights and the smells. It would have given her a chance to sniff around and maybe figure out just what it was that was missing in the sexy fragrance formulas. They were close. The scents could probably sell and do well even as they were, but they could still be better. Even if no one else knew it, she did. Meeting Carl outside at a street café would hopefully keep her from sneezing too badly and messing up her sense of smell. Oh, she could have lied to him, but the one thing she didn’t want was him showing up at Bernini Place, and she knew him well enough to know that he would.

The coffee shop was near the Piazza del Popolo. When she arrived, Carl was nowhere to be found. She was just ready to leave when her BlackBerry rang.

‘Hi Liza, Carl here. Listen, can you meet me in my suite? I’m just across the way at the Hotel de Russie. I’ve already ordered up the coffee. Sorry about this, but I’ve got an important conference call scheduled and it looks like it’s going to be a late start. I need to be here.’ He gave her a room number, but what he didn’t give her was a chance to say no. Damn the man!’ She looked down at her BlackBerry in disbelief. She was now left with two choices, walk out and wait for him to show up unexpectedly either at Bernini Place or, worse, show up at Martelli, or bite the bullet, go up to his suite and say “fuck off” politely in person. She cursed under her breath, shoved the BlackBerry back in her bag, and headed for the Hotel de Russie.

She’d barely finished knocking on his door before the first sneeze came. She’d thought about stopping by the chemist for some allergy pills, but nixed the idea, knowing she wouldn’t be able to do her job afterward if she did. Besides she thought she’d be meeting him in a garden coffee shop. The minute he opened the door, looking more like he was off for a day at the races than a business meeting, she sneezed again, and there was no disguising the bronze scent of his irritation, even though the look on his air-brushed face was total and complete contrition. ‘Thank you for coming, Liza, for allowing me this one concession, even though I don’t deserve any.’ Though there was contrition on his face, there was certainly none in his scent. In fact there was anything but. The chlorine of arrogance nearly made her eyes water as she sneezed again and pulled in the smell of cold metal and some wet, swampy scent that she felt more as a warning in her stomach rather than anything she could put a name to.

‘Please,’ he stepped aside, ‘come in. The coffee just arrived.’

She sneezed again. ‘There are tissues in the bathroom,’ he said. He poured coffee for both of them without asking her how she liked it. ‘I took the liberty of ordering some pastries too, since I didn’t know if you’d had breakfast or not.’

‘I have,’ she said, ignoring his offer of tissues and opting for one from her bag. ‘And I don’t have a lot of time, so I’ll say what I’ve come to say and then we can both get back to work.’ She didn’t give him a chance to respond. ‘I can think of no reason why you shouldn’t have sex with whomever you want. The two of us weren’t actually in a relationship anyway, and certainly if you felt the need for sex, why shouldn’t you have it, since you weren’t getting it from me.’ She sneezed multiples, and he waited for her to finish.

‘If we’d had a relationship, I wouldn’t have been tempted. It was you I wanted, Liza. I was just so lonely.’

She was surprised at how easily he lied. Deceit was one of the simplest things to smell, like burnt eggs and rancid cooking oil, and it always made her sneeze or at the very least it made her nose run. How could she have not made that connection where he was concerned? ‘But you knew I’d be there in just a few hours, Carl.’ Before he could respond, she raised a hand. ‘Look, there’s no need to lie to me, and believe me, I can tell when someone lies to me. The truth is that it really doesn’t matter. We aren’t now nor will we ever be compatible.’

He snapped. ‘But you’re compatible with Paulo Delacour, nice and quick-like.’ He raised a hand. ‘Oh come on, Liza, word gets around. Delacour is not exactly an unknown around here. What was it rebound? What, were you trying to make me jealous?’

She stepped back toward the door, the hair on the back of her neck rising. ‘Paulo Delacour has nothing to do with you, Carl, and nothing to do with why I’m not giving us another chance.’

His hand came down hard on the table, sloshing coffee onto the white linen cloth, making her jump. ‘Then why? What’s your reason?’

She snapped back. ‘You make me sneeze, Carl, and I should have listened to my nose.’

‘I make you sneeze? What the hell’s that supposed to mean? I make you sneeze, what like you’re allergic to me? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. That’s bullshit. How could I make you sneeze?’

‘This was a bad idea.’ Her heart hammered in her chest as she fought back another wave of sneezing. ‘I’m asking you to leave me alone. Don’t call again. Don’t come to my place. Let’s just call it even, all right. I’m going now.’

She pulled open the door, but he was in her personal space before she could breathe, shoving it shut hard and pressing her up against the frame. ‘You’re not exactly a catch, you know? I can have anyone I want. And just how long do you think Delacour will put up with you sneezing all over him? Hmm? How long?’

‘Get off me, Carl.’ Her voice was barely more than a whisper, and she could barely hear it over her heart. The room was a tsunami of metallic rage and her cold acidic fear.

‘Or what? You’ll sneeze at me?’

And that’s exactly what she did. Repeatedly. When he backed away in disgust, she threw open the door and fled.

Jim watched breathless while Liza Calendar fled for the elevator looking way too nervous for someone who was supposed to be at the Hotel de Russie. Before he could duck back into the room Vera had treated the two of them to as a surprise, he saw Carl Blain disappear back into the suite Liza had just come from and shut the door. ‘Fuck me,’ he said a little louder than he intended.

‘What is it?’ Vera called, sitting up in the bed with the sheet pulled over her breasts.

‘I just saw Liza Calendar heading down the hall like she was on her way to a fire.’

‘What? You think she was here with Mr Delacour?’ she asked.

‘Oh no, it wasn’t Mr Delacour she was with, and that’s what worries me.’ Immediately he had the feeling he’d probably said more than he should have. He’d certainly seen more than he should have. He had really hoped he’d been wrong about the connection between Liza Calendar and Carl Blain, but seeing was believing. He’d have to tell Paulo. If Liza was not only in cahoots with Blain, but Blain was here in Rome, then something was going down, and it couldn’t be anything very good for Martelli.’

‘What are you doing?’ she asked as he dug through his pocket for his BlackBerry. ‘Come back to bed. Business can wait.’

‘Just give me a second.’ He texted a message to Paulo with shaky fingers.

‘What?’ she said. ‘Jim, darling, what’s going on? Who was Liza with?’

‘Carl Blain,’ he said, absently. ‘I knew the two of them had something going on, and I tried to warn Paulo not to trust her, but I’d hoped I was wrong.’

She moved close and looked over his shoulder as he texted. ‘That’s too bad. I had suspicions myself, though.’

He stopped texting. ‘Oh?’

She shrugged and the duvet dropped to reveal a luscious erect nipple. ‘Not anything I could put my finger on. You know, just a gut feeling. Some people I don’t trust from the beginning, and I’m usually right.’

‘Funny,’ Jim said, ‘I’m usually a good judge of character too, and I didn’t pick up on anything until she got a phone call from Blain the other day when we were out at Ostia Antica.’ He finished his text and sent it, then he tossed the BlackBerry onto the nightstand and slid under the duvet and in between her open thighs. ‘Tell you what,’ he reached down between them to rake her clit with his thumb, ‘once you and I finish our little business meeting, you can go with me back to the research facility. I have to go there anyway, and this time, I’ve got permission to take you into the labs.’

Chapter Twenty-three

On the street, it took a while for the sneezing to subside, and even then for a good time longer all Liza could smell was her own fear and anger. How stupid could she be? Why had it not entered her mind that Carl would manipulate her into doing what he wanted her to? Ever since she’d caught him in mid-fuck, he had been trying to manipulate her. In fact, he’d been manipulating her all along. But the bastard was really good at it. And anyway, he was right, she was a nobody. So why did he think it so important to see her in person – just so he could humiliate her and have the last word? How he found out about her and Paulo was beyond her, but still, if he knew, then he knew he was dealing with someone not to be taken lightly. At the end of the day, it was over, and she was pretty sure he’d leave her alone now.

She wandered the streets surreptitiously sniffing and observing, but the unpleasant encounter with Carl had ruined her concentration, so after an hour she gave up and headed back to the lab. Perhaps a revisiting of some of the scents they’d already collected and some of the notes and observations she had taken would give her some ideas. Liza never had problems with olfactory fatigue. That meant she was able to work with and detect subtle differences in scent long after most people no longer could. After a visit to the break room for the much-needed coffee she didn’t get with Carl, she headed into the lab with her laptop in tow and settled in to sniffing as the day wore on.

‘Any luck with the walk?’

Paulo’s voice made her jump with a little gasp of surprise. ‘I didn’t hear you come in,’ she said.

‘Clearly.’ He gave her ponytail a gentle tug. She could sense the smile in his voice, the affection, and she smiled back.

‘No luck. I gave up after a couple of hours.’ She didn’t mention her little run-in with Carl. It was embarrassing, actually. It made her feel stupid and ugly, and a good dose of Paulo was just what she needed for a cure. She leaned back against him where he stood behind her, feeling the hard ridges of his belly tighten beneath his open jacket. ‘Just can’t figure out what it is we’re missing.’

‘They all smell amazing to me. I can’t believe you’re not ready to send them off for Coraline’s blessing.’ He leaned down and kissed her behind the ear and a shiver of pleasure crawled up her spine as she breathed in his fabulous scent.

‘They smell OK, but not as good as they can. Trust me.’

‘I do trust you,’ he said, pulling up a stool and sitting down next to her. ‘How about a trip out to The Mount this evening? It seems to me if it’s sexual scents your looking for, maybe we should revisit the place.’

‘Maybe. But I can’t help but feel what we need is already here. I’m just missing it.’

‘All right,’ he stood, pulled off his jacket, and hung it on the back of another chair. ‘What can I do to help?’

For the next two and a half hours they went over every sample that they’d collected and the list of corresponding essences that had been associated with those scents. It astounded her that Paulo could be such an incredible distraction on the one hand and yet be as drawn into their efforts as she was on the other. She liked that they could work together side by side and stay focused. She loved the way they smelled when they worked together, like clean sheets and strong tea. Most of all she loved that the power of his nose, was as important to him as hers was to her.

‘Can you smell the differences in the two dungeon experiences, I mean other than the obvious that the first one incorporated a lot of voyeurism?’ she said.’

‘I can,’ he replied, sniffing one and then the other, ‘though I’m not sure what the smell of voyeurism is.’

‘It’s curiosity mixed with lust, butter, and cinnamon, but there’s also a tiny tang of the forbidden, even a little bit of shame at seeing what normally you know you shouldn’t be seeing, like watching that couple at the bar. I don’t know, shame is sort of a dairy smell, I think, a little bit sour, a little bit metallic, a little bit muddy.’ She could feel his gaze on her as she closed her eyes thinking about the scents that made up the sexual interaction in her inadvertent first visit to the dungeon.

‘It does smell … I don’t know … more muddy, I’d say.’ He laughed, ‘probably more dirty because Angelo was running the show.’

‘At least until you came into the room,’ she said with a little chuckle. ‘And then the smell changed, and I’m glad you had the presence of mind to have David bag up samples because you overpowered everything.’

‘Thanks, I think.’

For a few moments they worked in silence, then she just had to ask. ‘How do you know Angelo?’ She added quickly, ‘it’s pretty clear the two of you have a history.’

A tight, smile played at the corner of his mouth, as though it didn’t quite feel comfortable making its presence known. ‘Coraline took us both under her wing when we were not much more than boys.’ This time the smile moved right in and made itself at home, and his gazed settled on the middle distance as though he were looking into the past. ‘Coraline has enormous wings, and to be sheltered under those wings was, well for both of us, probably the difference between life and death. Certainly it was for Angelo. I was more than my mother could handle after my father died. I acted out. I was always getting in trouble. My mother worked for Martelli. Coraline gave me a job when no one else was interested – actually when I was really too young to do very much. But her iron hand was just what I needed. She recognized early on that I had the nose, and clearly Rita wasn’t interested. Angelo, well Angelo was living on the streets. He was a runaway. I don’t know about his parents. He never said anything. When he speaks English, I’ve never decided if the American accent is faked or if it’s real. He never talks about his past. Maybe Coraline knows. There’s not much she doesn’t know. Anyway while I had the nose, Angelo had the tech skills. I don’t know how he got them. But Coraline saw his gift and put it to good use.’ Paulo took her hand where it rested next to her laptop and chafed it with his thumb. His scent changes slightly and she could smell nutmeg and anise. ‘We were lovers for a while, as I said earlier.’

Though it hadn’t surprise her, she had a sense what he’d shared wasn’t common knowledge. ‘We were young. Rita had just slapped him down. She wanted nothing to do with anything that was Martelli back then. Me, I was more like a brother to her, so there was never anything between us. But Angelo had a crush on her for a long time. When she made it clear she wasn’t interested, he came to me to commiserate after Rita left for Seattle. We got a little drunk and we ended up having sex. We realized we liked it. We were comfortable with it, and emotionally, it was a safe place for us to be at the time. Martelli kept us both way too busy to even think about relationships. That was before either of us joined The Mount. It was good for us then. Later Angelo started doing some work on the side. He invented a bit of very interesting software and before anyone knew it, the man was independently wealthy. He works for himself now, but he’s still Coraline’s bratty older son in her eyes, and I think in his too.’

‘That must be weird, being in the same sex cult with your adopted mother.’

‘Not really. Coraline goes elsewhere for sex. She keeps her private life private, and I think it’s been a very long time since she’s taken a sexually active role in the Roman Mount.’

‘And the tension between you and Angelo?’ Liza said. ‘Over a woman?’

The smile he offered was more of a brief twitch of the lips. ‘That obvious?’

‘Yup.’

He heaved a sigh and shifted on his chair. ‘Angelo took to The Mount much more readily than I did. I’ve not been an active member very long. When Fidelia became head of security for Martelli and brought in that … little extra you saw, we both went after her. I wanted to date her. Angelo wanted to fuck her.’ He grunted. ‘Afraid I don’t share very well. But like Angelo, Fidelia likes to play with everyone, and Angelo lost interest when I walked away.’

‘And that’s what the problem is?’

‘There’s not really a problem. We normally get along fine, but we have too much history between us, and Angelo knows exactly what buttons to push with me, so we enjoy each other in small doses. We haven’t been lovers in a long time, and … well I’ve never seen him react to anyone the way he reacted to you. I’m still not sure how I feel about that.’

She squeezed his hand where it still curled around hers. ‘All you would have had to do was tell me you weren’t comfortable with what happened.’

He turned to face her and ran a finger down her cheek. ‘But I wanted it too. Even though I wasn’t comfortable. In some ways, I think I needed what happened between the three of us more than either of you did. I guess I’ve just got a lot more relationship issues to work through than Angelo does. And really, what happened made me feel good, made me feel almost like … I don’t know, like I’d given you a gift.’

She leaned over and brushed a kiss across his lips. ‘You did. You did give me a gift, and it was amazing. And I think Angelo and you gave each other a gift as well.’

He pulled her to her feet. ‘Come on, let’s make some coffee, have a biscuit, and give it a little rest. Then we can come back fresh and figure out just what the problem is.’

As they stood to leave the room she breathed in the summer rainstorm scent of his perspiration, clean and sharp-edged and felt her own scent darken, thicken, and rise up to meet his. As he reached to open the door, she shoved his hand away and flipped the lock. Then holding his gaze, she turned out the light and lifted her arms around his neck. ‘I don’t want biscuits and I don’t want coffee.’ She took his mouth, her tongue moving lazily, leisurely against his lips until they yielded, and his scent spiked with ozone and desert heat.

‘Make love to me, Paulo,’ she whispered. ‘I’m tired of waiting to have you to myself, and it’s Saturday. We’re here alone, and I want you so damn bad.’

His fingers clenched in her hair and he released a long sigh that passed over her lips with the delicious taste of him. ‘We’ll muddy the waters, you know? If we make love here. Your scent will be all over me, and mine on you and …’ he stopped speaking when her hand slid down to stroke his growing erection through his trousers.

‘And right now, I don’t give a fuck,’ she said, biting his lip as she pulled back. ‘Everything’s bagged, everything’s sealed, and the preliminary scents aren’t even in this room. It’s you I want to smell, Paulo, you and me together and no one else.’ Her words came in staccato gasps with her efforts to breathe in the thickening and changing dance of their scents. ‘No one else.’ She rubbed herself against him and he sucked a deep breath. He gave a quick look around, then ran both hands down to cup her bottom, lifting her. Her flip skirt slid up her bare thighs as she wrapped both legs around his waist and went back to eating his mouth.

The apricots on toast smell of anticipation washed over the bloom of heat as he settled her ass onto the high stainless steel table at the back of the room, shoving bagged shirts and underclothing off onto the floor in a rustle of plastic on plastic.

‘I need to smell you, I need to smell you, I need to smell you,’ the words came out like a desperate chant as she ripped open his shirt and shoved it off his shoulders, burying her nose in the striations between his pecs. Then she trailed kisses across a taut nipple and around until she nuzzled into the soft down of his left armpit, making him squirm and scrunch, trapped in the shirt, struggling to unbutton the sleeves. Being trapped at the mercy of her sense of smell made his cock even more anxious in his trousers, sharpening his scent to a black pepper and ozone edge.

She shoved and pushed and slid her way off the table, practically falling on her ass before she grabbed onto his belt to steady herself, nearly pulling him over on top of her. Then she undid the buckle and went to work on his fly, sniffing and nuzzling as she went.

‘Liza … Christ, Liza …’ He finally managed to shrug free of his shirt and then went to work helping her with the trousers, shoving down his boxers until his cock bounced free. She didn’t immediately take it in her mouth. Instead, she rubbed her face over his cock, then over his heavy sac and his pubic curls, and again he was squirmy and ticklish, resting one hand on the top of her head while the other shoved his trousers and boxers down over his hips.

‘Oh God, Paulo, if I could only just bottle your scent, then I’d never get out of bed, never stop touching myself, never stop being right on the edge of coming every time I smelled you.’

He dropped to his knees onto the floor and pushed her back, his hands sliding up her thighs until he could grab her panties. With a finger hooked in each side he yanked them off. She didn’t protest as he shoved into her without foreplay. Her growl matched his at penetration, and she wrapped her legs around him and dug her heels into his kidneys. ‘I have to have you, Liza,’ he gasped against her ear. ‘Surely you can smell how badly I need to have you. I’ve wanted you all day long. I’ve needed to come so badly,’ he thrust hard and they both slid on the tiled floor, and she cried out and cursed. ‘I’ve needed to come so badly, but I’ve held it, Liza, I’ve held it for you because I want there to be plenty for you to smell when I unload, when we come together and rub our scent all over each other.’

Her body quaked beneath him, the scent of honey and butter and seashore pressed against desert heat and ozone, and the spiced, hot pepper scent of their desperation spread over it all. As she drew breath after heavy breath of their scent, dragging it into her sinuses, into her lungs, into her belly. She wasn’t exactly sure when the orgasm started, but she had the feeling it might have begun as a tremor of soft fruit anticipation the moment she scented him, the moment she pulled him into the first kiss. And all this time it had been building with the rub of his cock against her clit, the rake and press of his balls against her perineum, the friction of his skin against hers, flint and steel igniting the spark until her whole body shook with it and then rose to a smell that she could barely take in. It was opium, it was strong wine, it was every drug at its sweetest, when the ride was most euphoric. It was that and more, and still she came.

She felt him tense, heard him grunt, smelled the sharp spark of his orgasm ready to burst like the fountains at the villa. Then he erupted inside her, thick and heavy with scent, laced with her own – smell still changing and evolving as it filled her, flooded her, and ran down her bottom onto the white-tiled floor.

Then, while he was still vulnerable, still gasping for breath, she shoved her way free, and squatted on top of him open-legged, open-pussied, rubbing and shifting up and down against his cock, against his damp pubic hair, then up over the soft down that led to his navel. She slipped and slid and gyrated, covering him with her scent while reveling in his. Then she fell forward on top of him, forcing a harsh grunt of a breath from his oxygen-starved lungs. ‘Can you smell us? Can you smell us, Paulo? My God, we smell brilliant! We smell better than anything. We smell like everything that counts. We smell … we smell …’ She sat up, hand still stroking the silky heat of his semen between her legs, nose still pulling desperately at every nuance of scent. ‘Paulo …’ She froze, her heart feeling like it would beat its way out of her chest.

‘What? What’s the matter, Liza?’ He rested and hand on her hip. ‘What is it?’

She locked onto his dark gaze. ‘Paulo, we smell like everything that counts.’ With all the grace of a floundering moose, she pushed and shoved her way to her feet. He gave a muffled ‘umph’ when she stumbled and elbowed him in the ribs, but he scrambled to stand right behind her.

‘Your handkerchief. Give it to me.’ He already had it out of his pocket. She went to work cleaning his semen and her juices in a task that would have made her incredibly horny all over again if her heart hadn’t been hammering for other reasons – reasons she could see by the dark spark in Paulo’s eyes, by the rapid beat of his pulse in his throat that he completely understood. ‘This is it, Paulo. This is the missing part of the puzzle. It’s us, it’s basic like vanilla and cinnamon, it’s the binding, it’s something that’s not the scent of the dungeon, not the scent of kink or voyeurism or a good spanking. All of those things are apart of what Martelli’s trying to create in this new line, but there’s nothing as basic as a man and a woman who can’t get enough of each other, a man and a woman who can’t resist the need to be together even in the most inopportune place. It’s magnetism, it’s connecting, it’s primal. Animals are attracted to each other by scent all the time. Why should humans be any different, and for all the kink, and all the emotions that accompany the Dom/sub relationship or a night in the dungeon with an audience, it’s that basic scent, as simple and basic as two people who lust for each other, two people whose chemistry is explosive and magical. Paulo, I promise, this is the missing ingredient.’

Chapter Twenty-four

‘Didn’t you get my text?’ Paulo barely made it out of the lift before Jim was on him. ‘We need to talk.’ He glanced around as though he feared they were being spied on.

Paulo shot an exaggerated look at his watch. ‘I’m off to Milan in just a few minutes, Jim. Can’t it wait?’

‘No, it can’t. Didn’t you get my text?’ He asked again.

Paulo let out an exasperated breath. ‘I got your damned text, Jim, and frankly I don’t know what got the bee up your ass about Liza, but I don’t want to hear it. I talked to her about Blain, and if you’d bothered to check it out, you’d have known his call was nothing to do with Martelli.’

Jim grabbed Paulo by the arm. ‘And her being in a room at the Hotel de Russie with him? What about that?’

Paulo froze in his tracks. Instantly the man moved his hand away from his boss’ arm and stepped back, but he held his gaze.

Paulo nodded to his office and stormed in that direction without look back. He knew Jim would follow. Inside he motioned him to shut the door, then he turned on him. ‘Tell me, Jim, how do you know that Liza was in a hotel room with Carl Blain?’

Jim’s face reddened and he raked his teeth over his lower lip. Then he squared his shoulders and said, ‘I was there with Vera.’ He waved a dismissive hand. ‘It was her treat, sort of a surprise for me. I stepped out the door for a second and saw Liza Calendar coming out of a room several doors down. She didn’t see me, but I did see Carl Blain sticking his head out before he shut the door behind him.’

‘How did she look?’ Paulo ask, trying to keep his breathing even.

‘What do you mean how did she look?’

‘Did she look disheveled? Did she look smug? Did she look sneaky? And what about Blain? Was he dressed? Was he in a robe? Was his hair well combed?’

‘She was dressed smart casual, so was he. And neither of them were disheveled. Look,’ Jim said raising a hand, ‘I never said she was fucking him. That would certainly simplify things if she were. I don’t think it’s about sex and I told you that from the beginning. If it’s business, though, if they’re in a working relationship that involves infiltrating Martelli Fragrance, then the whole thing makes a lot more sense. And knowing Liza Calendar, if it’s business, she wouldn’t be fucking him.’

Paulo folded his arms across his chest and glared at Jim. ‘So what the hell do you think her plan is, then? You think she’s a part of Blain’s hostile takeover plot?’

Jim ran a hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end. ‘Well she’s certainly in a position to be, isn’t she? And she could do him the most good where she’s at, don’t you think?’

‘She doesn’t like him and he makes her sneeze.’ The words slipped out before Paulo could stop them.

‘Makes her sneeze? Seriously? You believe that?’

Paulo didn’t answer. In truth, he didn’t know what he believed, but he just couldn’t believe that Liza was in cahoots with Blain, and whatever reason she had for being at the hotel with him, well he’d take Angelo’s advice once again and ask her.

Jim blew out a harsh breath. ‘Look, I’d be remiss in my duties if I didn’t tell you this. Even if you don’t want to hear. I’m just saying keep her close. Keep your eye on her, and maybe put security on the alert. Also, if her work’s done here, then send her home, or better yet, if it’ll make you feel better, take her somewhere, you know, just the two of you, somewhere where you can keep an eye on her. She doesn’t have to know that’s what you’re doing. She could just think it’s a romantic getaway. You know, something you’d both enjoy.’

It was early afternoon when Liza got back to the Martelli offices. Paulo was at meetings in Milan, so she had been at the labs with Coraline checking the final formulas. The scents that would launch this fall as the Innuendo line would be the most amazing, cutting-edge fragrances Martelli had ever launched. The money thrown at the line before Liza came on board was boggling, but it had cost little on the whole, for what she had managed to do in a short amount of time. There was very little technology involved in using her nose, and she was happy to do it. The cost to get the scents ready by autumn, however, would not be small, though it would be well worth it to launch a line that would blow the lid off the market. Coraline had hinted at a permanent position for Liza with Martelli. Her head was spinning with possibilities. Though Paulo would be away from the office for the rest of the day, a celebration dinner had been in the works for the evening, until he had texted to say the meetings in Milan were running longer than expected and he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow evening. That being the case, she was thinking maybe she’d enjoy a quiet night. She hadn’t had one in ages. She hadn’t really had the chance to enjoy the Bernini flat. A nice long bubble bath, a good Skype session with Addie and maybe Rita, then maybe she would curl up with a raunchy novel and crack open that bottle of primitivo Coraline had so highly recommended. Yep! That would do nicely. Then when Paulo got back – her insides tightened and tingled with anticipation – she’d be ready for him.

‘I know, Jim. I know. It worries me too. I told you, I’ve never thought Liza Calendar was trustworthy.’

Liza stopped in her tracks at the sound of Vera’s voice coming from the open door of the break room. A peek around the corner showed that she was alone, talking on her iPhone.

Liza held her breath and listened, struggling to hear around her pounding pulse.

‘So you talked to Paulo about her?’ There was a pause. ‘Well that’s good. What did he say? I agree. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.’

Liza couldn’t breathe. The cloying reek of her own sense of betrayal threatened to choke her.

Vera’s laughter seemed loud and grating in the silence. ‘Well he’s certainly doing a great job of keeping her close, I’d say.’ Her chuckle sounded vicious. ‘It’s a dirty job, but I suppose someone has to do it. I would have thought the connection with Blain would have been obvious from the beginning. Does Ms Martelli know about her? … I see … So she has her doubts too. Well that’s good, good that they’re keeping a close watch on her. I mean, hey, if she can do Martelli some good while she’s here with that magical nose of hers, and Mr Delacour gets laid and we all get a better Christmas bonus, then I say so much the better.’

There was more silence while Vera listened to what Jim was saying. ‘Well I can’t see her pulling anything when Mr Delacour’s between her legs every chance he gets. Still I suppose it is worrisome, her coming out of Blain’s hotel room and all. Mr Delacour seems like the jealous type to me. But, hey, he’s getting some, so win-win, the way I see it.’

Liza reached out for the wall, feeling as though her legs might give from under her, feeling like she might be sick.

‘Listen, Jim, I have to get back to work. Alessandro is off tomorrow so it’ll just be me at the queen bitch’s mercy. I need to meet with him and find out what I’ll be up against.’ As she disconnected and made one last check of her email, Liza fled down the hall to her office.

She dropped into her chair barely able to breathe. With trembling fingers, she started to call Paulo. Then she changed her mind. Her work here was done. She had plenty for an article about her experience in the perfume industry and Martelli now had what they wanted. She wouldn’t take their fucking money. She’d never done the job for money, and it felt like her insides were on fire every time she thought that they could believe such a thing of her. But then she supposed that’s the way big business worked; no one could possibly think that someone might do something because it pleased them, because it excited them and made them happy. She wiped viciously at her eyes as she thought of how happy she had been these past few days with Paulo. Well she was just being stupid, wasn’t she? She forced back the tears and packed up her computer bag, checking around the office for anything else that was hers. Her nose had been wrong this time. Her nose that she had always counted on to be right about situations. About people. She slipped out of the office unseen and held herself together through the walk back to the flat, oblivious to Bernini’s Angels gracing the Ponte Sant’Angelo, oblivious to the scents of coffee and traffic and tourists and harried Italians, oblivious to everything but the scent of her own betrayal. Once she was safely locked in the flat, she tossed her bag on the sofa, threw herself on the bed, and wept.

It felt like she’d cried forever. The long shadows of early evening were creeping into the bedroom windows when she sat up red-eyed and drained. In the bathroom, she blew her poor beleaguered nose, drank a large glass of water, then went back to the den and booted up her laptop, logging into the site she used for travel. It was high tourist season and without flying first class, the earliest flight she could book was for tomorrow evening. Still, Rome was a big city. She was sure she could make herself scarce until flight time. If she had to she’d wait in the damned lounge, and there were plenty of hotels. She’d find some way to stay away from Paulo. When she calmed down a bit she would send an email to him and to Coraline. Nothing personal, because clearly it hadn’t been, at least not to them. She would simply tell them now that her work was done, she saw no reason to linger. Clearly Paulo hadn’t believed her when she told him what had happened between her and Carl. She wondered now why he’d even bothered to ask. Well, best she get away as soon as she could and get on with her life.

Once her flight reservations were made, she pulled her bag from the closet, flung it on the bed, and began to pack. She was randomly tossing underwear in the bag when Skype sounded on her laptop. She would have ignored it until she saw it was Rita. Suddenly she was completely empathetic with Rita for not wanting anything to do with Martelli Fragrance, and though she didn’t want to talk to anyone, she really needed a friendly shoulder.

Chapter Twenty-five

The delays had been maddening. The meetings had run long, he’d missed one flight, and another was cancelled. Paulo wanted desperately to be back with Liza. They still hadn’t had the chance to properly celebrate the new line that would be so much more amazing than anyone could have imagined thanks to her. But at the moment, it wasn’t anxiety over the future celebration with Liza that was making him crazy. He texted her again from the queue at passport control in Fiumicino. The knot in his stomach tightened further when there was still no response to any of the previous texts he’d sent nor to any of his calls. The last message he’d gotten from her was to say that Coraline had been elated over the new line. As soon as he was through passport control he tried to call her again, but again her BlackBerry rang over to voicemail. ‘Hi, I’m at the airport. Looking forward to seeing you soon.’ As an afterthought, he added, ‘is everything all right?’

He knew it wasn’t, he sensed it wasn’t, and yet he still held out hope that maybe something was wrong with her BlackBerry. He broke as many speed limits and traffic laws as he could to get him home faster. Once there in the lift, he checked his BlackBerry one more time for a text he hoped for but felt certain now wouldn’t be there. When it wasn’t, he stuffed the device into his pocket and shoved his way into his flat.

‘About fucking time you got home!’ He recognized the voice before he actually looked up to see Rita standing in front of him, hands on hips, eyes blazing fire and ice.

‘Nice to see you too, sis,’ he said, closing the door behind him. ‘What are you doing here?’

She ignored his greeting and followed him into his bedroom where he dropped the garment bag on the floor. ‘Are you out of you mind, or are you just being an asshole, because the first I might be able to forgive, might. But if the second is the case, I swear I’ll kill you and dump your body in the Tiber for the fish to eat.’

‘Rita, what the –’

‘She’s my best friend, you bastard! My best friend!’ she gave his garment bag a vicious kick with the toe of a very wicked-looking black leather boot. ‘And don’t tell me you didn’t know, because I know you did. I can’t find Mom, and if she knows, if she’s in on this stupid shit, then I’ll kill you both. The two of you deserve each other.’ Suddenly her eyes teared and she ran a hand through her hair. ‘Paulo, how could you? How could you?’

He took her by the shoulders – carefully, for his own protection. ‘Sis, I have no idea what you’re talking about, and if you’re going to feed me to the fish, I’d at least like to know why.’

She jerked away and began to pace at the foot of his bed, kicking the bag once more for good measure. ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer? Ring a bell? Hmm?’

He shook his head. ‘No. Should it?’

‘Is that what it was all along? You were toying with her because you didn’t trust her? But in typical Martelli fashion, just because you don’t trust someone doesn’t mean you can’t use them to get what you want, does it?’ This time as she passed him, she gave him a hard shove on the arm that nearly sent him off balance. ‘How the fuck could you not trust her? How the fuck could you possibly think she was in cahoots with Carl Blain?’

‘What?’ He dropped onto the bed, suddenly unable to stand, barely able to hear her over the sudden beating of wings in his ears.

‘Check you goddamned email. She said she sent you and Mom both a letter of resignation.’

‘Liza? Liza did? Why?’ With hands no longer steady, he checked his BlackBerry. Sure enough a message had just come through that must have been held up in the ether somewhere while he was flying and had only now caught up with him. It was polite, distant, and professional. Liza Calendar had done what she’d come to do, she’d enjoyed the work. She didn’t want Martelli’s money, and she was catching a night flight back to the States. She wished Martelli all the best with the new line. That was it! All professional, nothing personal.

The room tilted, and it felt like he was breathing cotton wool. ‘Why?’ he managed a strangled plea.

Rita plopped down next to him. This time she took his hand. ‘Paulo, she thinks the only reason you made love to her was because you thought she might be working for Carl Blain, and you were keeping your enemies close.’

‘Why the hell would she think that? I mean I know what Jim thinks, but Jim’s wrong about her. She would never work for Carl Blain. Never, no matter how it looks.’ Then, for some reason that made more sense to him than it would to anyone who didn’t know Liza, he added, ‘Carl Blain makes her sneeze.’

Rita’s laugh came out a little sob and she wiped her eyes with her fingertips and gave him a half-hug. ‘She told me that. She would never be in cahoots with anyone who makes her sneeze,’ then she held his gaze, the fire in her eyes bright again. ‘She can smell what a person’s like, Paulo, she can smell their heart, and nobody has ever smelled good to her until you came along. Don’t fuck it up.’

He sprang to his feet. ‘Do you know her flight number? When she’s flying?’

She nodded. ‘I know more than that, bro.’ She pulled out her own BlackBerry and texted him the information. ‘She’s probably on her way to the airport now. You text her and so will I.’

Their efforts were interrupted by the ringing of his BlackBerry. He answered it without thinking, not minding that Rita moved close enough to hear the conversation.

‘Paulo, this is Jim.’ The man didn’t take time for niceties. ‘Someone’s stolen the formulas for the new line. Police have taken Liza Calendar to the station. They caught her at the airport.’

Paulo exploded. ‘What the fuck do you mean they caught her at the airport? You can’t really believe she’d do such a thing! That’s bullshit and you know it!’

‘What the hell? Are you out of your fucking mind!’ Rita yelled into the phone before Paulo could shush her. She immediately pulled up her BlackBerry and he could hear her calling the Martelli lawyers.

Jim heaved a hard-put-upon sigh into Paulo’s ear. ‘I know how you feel about her, Paulo, but all the evidence points to her. Who else could have done it? And why would she have slunk away to the airport without telling anyone if she didn’t? She had us all fooled and –’

Paulo hung up on him, and motioned Rita to follow. ‘I don’t know who it,’ he said, ‘but I know as sure as I know my own face in the mirror that she didn’t.’

‘I’m calling Mom,’ Rita said. ‘She needs to know what’s going on.’ Paulo was already out the door with Rita right behind him.

Chapter Twenty-six

It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do in a police station, but it sure as hell felt good to land a fist in the middle of Jim’s smug face. Rita made no attempt to stop him, but then Paulo figured he’d beaten her to the punch by microseconds. Jim waved off the police and wiped his bloodied nose on a white handkerchief. ‘I’m sorry, Paulo, but it is what it is.’ He stepped back as he said it, putting a little more space between him and his boss. Rita growled at him, and he took another step back for safety. Just then Coraline walked in and, Paulo could swear, the whole police station went quiet with her arriving like the queen of the world in her usual haute couture, looking as good in the evening as she did in the morning. All heads always turned, and he was sure more than a few knees were tempted to bend. She took in Jim’s bloody nose and Paulo’s fist and gave her daughter a hug. ‘You took the Martelli jet from London?’ She asked.

Rita nodded. ‘Might as well, it was there, wasn’t it?’

‘That’s what I left it for.’

Coraline turned to Paulo, her arm still around Rita’s shoulders, and gave him the smile of a woman in control. ‘The lawyers are with her, and she should be released …’ she looked down at her watch ‘… any minute now.’ The Martellis were a formidable lot, and Paulo was proud to be considered a part of the family. ‘You,’ Coraline focused a withering gaze on Jim Dryer, ‘are a very poor judge of character, Mr Dryer. I’m very disappointed.’

Before he could do more than make a couple of fish gasps, the door opened and Liza was escorted through by Martelli’s lawyer, the legendary Mr Serrano, not one of the underlings, but the main man himself. Rita or Coraline, whoever had gotten there first, had called in the big guns, a sign that Liza was of value to the whole Martelli family.

Liza’s eyes ignited as her gazed locked on Paulo. She stepped back and slapped his arms away when he tried to hug her. ‘They arrested me at the airport. At the airport! In front of everyone, Paulo, and all I’m guilty of is helping you find a formula for your damned perfume.’

‘I know that, Liza. You’ve done nothing wrong. We all know you didn’t do it. It was a stupid mistake, you being brought here.’ He shot Jim an incinerating glance. It was all he could do not to pull her into his arms and hold her until she stopped fighting him. Rita gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. He still held Liza’s gaze. ‘I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know what happened, but I’m sure as hell going to find out.’

When she saw Rita take his hand, she softened slightly and gave him half a nod of acknowledgment, then she bit her lip and swallowed a shaky breath. ‘If you take me to the lab now, I can find out for you. Who took the formulas, I mean.’ She touched her nose. ‘If the police haven’t contaminated the scene too much.’

‘Oh for fuck sake! You can’t be serious,’ Jim said. But he raised his hand and moved back out of range when Rita took a step in his direction, fists clenched. Coraline was already on her BlackBerry calling the lab to tell the police to take a break. As if anyone would argue with Coraline Martelli. Then she slid her arm around Liza and nodded toward the door. ‘Don’t worry, darling. We’ll get this sorted out.’

Paulo had driven the Land Rover to the police station with every intention of bringing Liza home with him, but when he opened the door for her to get in next to him, she ignored it and got into the back with Rita. ‘Liza, you’ve got to know that I wouldn’t, that I didn’t –’

Rita shook her head and slipped her arm around her friend. ‘Not now, Paulo. Just get us there.’

His heart twisted. He hoped, God he prayed, that Liza could smell how he felt. He didn’t have to scent her to know how hurt and betrayed she had to be, and he would give anything to make it all better for her.

When they arrived at the research facility, it was dark. Coraline had a driver deliver her to the police station and then on to the research facility. Paulo neither knew nor cared how Jim had gotten there. Every time he saw the man, he fought the urge to punch him again. At the facility, everyone had long since gone home except for the police, who were now all congregated in the break room having coffee.

The click, click of their shoes echoed in the empty hallway as they moved toward the labs where the scents had been stored. Paulo didn’t have to listen to know that Liza was already sniff-sniffing. She’d started in the break room, and he figured it was so she could separate the scents of the policemen from the scents that were there before. He tried to catch her gaze before he punched in the code to open the door, but she kept her eyes forward, concentrating.

Once they were inside, the door slid shut behind them and he motioned them all to stay back, knowing that she wouldn’t want their scents, and the emotions, of which there were a lot right now, to interfere with the smells that were left in the room. They all watched her, holding their collective breath, as she walked around the lab sniffing, then cocking her head, then sniffing and closing her eyes. She was fierce. God, she was fierce! When she was like this, with her nose leading the way, she was breathtaking. She was wild and untouchable. But she had certainly touched him, more deeply than he would have ever thought possible, and God, he wanted to believe that he had returned the favour. He wanted her to trust him again, to be with him again, as no one else ever had.

In the middle of the room she stopped, stood dead still, closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply. The look on her face went from questioning to a deep frown.

‘What is it?’ Coraline said in half a whisper. ‘What do you smell?’

She opened her eyes and looked at the Martelli matriarch. ‘Does Vera have access to this room?’

‘Not that I know of,’ Coraline replied.

All eyes were suddenly on Jim. ‘I brought her in here, yes, but I had permission, and I was with her.’ He thrust his hands on his hips. ‘Oh come on, you can’t really believe –’

‘Shut up, Jim,’ Paulo and Rita said at the same time. All eyes were back on Liza.

She sniffed again and moved around the room. ‘You were in here with her, yes, I can smell that. But that’s an older scent, faint. When was that?’

‘Two days ago. Surely you can’t –’

She shook her head and raised her hand. ‘You, yes, you were in here with her two days ago. I can smell that, but her. She’s been her more recently. She smells like wet vegetation. She smells different.’ Liza shook her head again as though she were clearing away spider’s webs. ‘At first, I can smell lust. Hers and yours.’

Jim blushed and shifted from foot to foot.

Liza continued without noticing, or probably caring, about his discomfort. ‘But there’s more. Cinnamon curiosity and … deception, like sour milk.’

‘Oh give me a break,’ Jim said. Though this time he didn’t sound so sure.

‘But the scent of her the second time is different. There’s fear, along with the deception. There’s excitement.’

‘This is ridiculous,’ Jim said. ‘Look I know you don’t like her, but this is just too much.’

Her gaze turned on him. ‘I like her just fine. I just don’t like the way she smells.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with the way she –’

‘Shut up, Jim,’ Paulo repeated.

Rita erupted like a Vesuvius. ‘This is my best friend you’re talking to, you asshole.’ Then she turned her attention to her mother. ‘How the hell could Martelli hire such an idiot? He brings the woman he’s fucking in here, in a place she wasn’t supposed to be and –’

‘I had permission, and all of the evidence points to her.’ Jim stabbed a finger in the air toward Liza and the room erupted in chaos just as Paulo’s BlackBerry rang.

‘Hey, bro,’ Angelo’s voice filled his ear. ‘You know that little research project you had me on?’

Paulo covered the phone, made a shrill whistle with his fingers in his mouth, and the room went silent. ‘Go on,’ he said into the device.

‘Well, the connection with Liza to Blain may be documented, but it looks to me like it might be the connection with a Vera Bellini you need to be checking out. She works for Martelli, right?’

‘Yes.’ Paulo switched the device to speaker. ‘Go on.’

‘Claims she has a degree in chemistry?’

‘That’s right,’ Jim said.

There was a grunt and a curse on Angelo’s end of the conversation. ‘Well, there is no degree in chemistry. I checked her out. She’s had an on again off again relationship with Blain for ten years, and whenever Blain pulls a dirty buy-out, she’s never far away.’

Suddenly Jim looked a little green around the gills, as he grabbed onto the counter for support.

‘Bro?’ Angelo said, sensing the tension in the air. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Someone’s stolen the formulas from the lab, and I think you might have just found our culprit.’

‘She hasn’t been answering her phone.’ Jim’s voice was barely audible. ‘I thought maybe she was just busy. I … I didn’t think it was strange that she kept wanting to see the research facility. I mean it’s an interesting place.’ His mouth was a hard line. Paulo didn’t want to know what was going through his head at the moment, and as much as he deserved it, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for the dumb bastard.

‘She’s probably on her way to the airport,’ Angelo said. They could all hear the tapping of computer keys over his phone. ‘Yup! Blain’s private jet is there and due to depart in … an hour.’

Paulo didn’t want to know how Angelo got his information. He was just glad he did.

Coraline was already calling the police.

‘This time,’ Rita said, slipping an arm around her friend, ‘maybe they’ll get the right person.’

‘If Blain gets those formulas, and we’ve got nothing more to go on than Ms Calendar’s sense of smell, then he can pretty much do what he wants,’ Jim said, unable to meet Liza’s gaze, or anyone else’s for that matter. ‘As heavily invested as Martelli is in this project, a hostile takeover is pretty much a given.’

Coraline clucked her tongue. ‘Oh there was not going to be any hostile takeover, Jim, darling, in spite of your stupidity.’

‘What? How can that be?’ Jim looked as though he was about to pass out. ‘I know how much money Martelli invested in those scents, and it was a lot. A helluva lot.’

‘Oh I know exactly how much money it was.’ Coraline took out her compact and powdered her nose. ‘But you don’t have a clue of the depth of Martelli’s resources. You haven’t been here long enough to understand.’ She snapped the compact shut and stuffed it back in her bag. ‘Carl Blain is no more likely to succeed at a hostile takeover of Martelli than his father was in his attempt back when I was the new CEO. You see, Jim, Martelli is family owned with deep pockets. Very deep pockets.’

‘I don’t understand,’ he managed.

‘Martelli’s family is worldwide. Oh for heaven sakes,’ she said when she saw the direction his mind was headed. ‘Not mafia, though there are times when I suppose it might feel that way. The Mount, you silly man. The Mount is worldwide, and The Mount has been heavily invested in Martelli for, well for as long as there’s been a Martelli. Carl Blain couldn’t have touched us even if he had stolen the formulas.’ She looked at Paulo. ‘The right formulas, I mean.’

‘Wait a minute.’ Jim’s eyes darted to Paulo, then to Coraline and back again. ‘What do you mean the right formulas?’

‘In spite of your stupidity, Jim,’ Paulo said, his eyes locked on Liza, who looked as though she were in shock, ‘I can promise the formulas are quite safe. Surely you didn’t think I’d risk all of Liza’s hard, brilliant work, did you?’

There was a murmur among the troops. Liza shifted slightly and half whispered, ‘I don’t understand.’

‘You sneezed the other day while we were here, remember? That was after Jim told me Carl Blain might be planning something.’ He stepped closer and risked life and limb by touching her arm. When she didn’t pull away, his pulse danced against his throat. ‘Do you really think I’d risk all of your hard work, all of your brilliant efforts, knowing that bastard was around?’ He shrugged. ‘Granted, I didn’t know about Vera, but I still wasn’t taking a risk. Blain can do what he wants with the formulas that were stolen from here. They aren’t worth anything without our secret ingredient, and the only samples that have that secret ingredient are locked away somewhere safe. We’d never leave them here in the lab unprotected.’

Liza’s knees went loose and this time she allowed Paulo to slip his arms around her. ‘Then you mean …’ She swallowed hard, unable to finish her sentence, and her eyes misted slightly.

‘I mean I know you, Liza Calendar. I know your scent. Weren’t you the one who told me that the nose never lies?’

Chapter Twenty-seven

A Week Later

Liza chuckled as she got onto the lift in Bernini Place, checking the text from Coraline. Apparently a very repentant Jim Dryer was taking his much-deserved punishment from Fidelia, though Coraline worried that they were both enjoying it way too much. Still, the man made a mistake, and men often think with their cocks. It was biology. All things considered, everyone was convinced that it wouldn’t happen again.

Like his father before him, Carl Blain had made the fatal mistake of underestimating Coraline Martelli. It was a mistake he’d not get the chance to make again. Coraline had connections, powerful connections, and very, very old money. Carl’s plane was grounded and the missing scents were found. Even though they were useless, the plot was exposed along with the break-in in order to get the scents, and there were enough people who knew about the hostile takeover plans that the plot was obvious. As much as the new line had cost Martelli, it was nothing compared to the expense Carl Blain had gone to in order to try and guarantee his success where is father had failed. Blain Holdings was ruined, and Carl would be doing time. High Rising magazine had way more of a story than it had bargained for, and there was an influx of new advertisers. Addie was already looking to hire a couple of people and Liza would then become the silent partner – the one with the Nose. She smiled to herself. The fact that Carl had actually planned to use Liza in his scheme when he found out she would be doing a story on Martelli Fragrance showed how little he knew about her. She was never the type who went all starry-eyed over celebrities and important people. She trusted her nose, and as she approached the door to her flat, her nose smelled something yummy – two somethings yummy, in fact.

Inside, she sat her computer bag down, kicked off her shoes, and followed her nose past the kitchen and living room and down the long hallway to the bathroom where the smell intensified and mixed to a pussy-drenching cocktail of male heat. Beneath that she could smell the soft scent of lavender and geranium. On tiptoes, she peeked around the corner of the bathroom door and let out a squeal of surprise as Paulo, completely naked, pulled her into a deep, tongue dance of a kiss, bending her back until her feet nearly lost contact with the floor. She didn’t know how he’d managed it, but he had her blouse unbuttoned and pushed off her shoulders before the kiss ended in a trail of nips and licks down into her cleavage as he righted her and undid her bra in a single smooth move.

‘Congratulations to Martelli Fragrance’s newest exec and The Mount’s newest recruit,’ this time it was a very naked Angelo who knelt in front of her and set to work on her skirt, lingering to tongue her navel and nuzzle down into her panties until his hot breath brushed against her tight curls. Paulo moved behind her to keep her from tumbling backwards, nipping and nibbling her neck and cupping and stroking both her breasts as she leaned back against him. She could feel his erection pressing against her lower back. Angelo hooked his fingers in her knickers and dispatched them efficiently. It was then she noticed the bottle of Moet et Chandon peeking out from the bucket of ice on the marble counter.

The two men nudged and manhandled her until she was in position, then Paulo stepped aside just enough that Angelo could lift her until her bottom rested on the cool, polished surface of the countertop. Without a word, he shoved her legs open wide and stood in between, his cock rubbing maddeningly close to her pussy. Then the two men nodded to each other, and Paulo opened the bottle of champagne with a pop and an eruption of cold bubbly foam cascaded down over Liza’s breasts and belly, just as he tilted her head back and primed her mouth with a wet tongue kiss. Then he tipped the bottle a few inches above her lips so that its sparkling contents cascaded into her mouth and down her chin. She yelped and gasped and nearly choked, then she smacked her lips and drank sloppily. Both men moved their mouths to catch their share of the downpour, taking turns lapping and sucking from her fizz-drenched breasts and belly. As she drank, Angelo hooked his hands beneath her knees and pulled her closer until her butt was off the edge of the counter and her shoulders rested against the mirror. Then he knelt, lifted her feet onto his shoulders and ran his tongue down to part her pussy lips, causing her to shudder. There was barely time to catch her breath before Paulo moved the champagne bottle and the flow pooled in her navel, then ran down over her pubis. It flooded over her hard clit and sluice between her pouting labia right into Angelo’s waiting mouth, which lapped and slurped noisily. Between the tickle of the bubbles and the nibble and suck of Angelo’s very impressive mouth, she came, bucking and grinding against the marble. ‘You gotta taste this, bro,’ Angelo gasped, smacking his lips, his breath cool against her fizz-drenched slit. ‘Liza’s pussy makes champagne taste so damn good.’

And the men changed places, making sure to dribble plenty in her mouth before flooding her pussy with another deluge, as Paulo drank deeply from her cup. She wasn’t sure she’d ever actually quit coming when Paulo pulled away, took his cock in his hand, and pushed it up into her. Angelo chose that moment to climb onto the counter and drizzle Moet et Chandon onto his cock before he offered it to her. The smell of desert heat and ozone, the scent of evergreen and hot earth mixed with the sour-fresh scent of the fizz, and the taste of it all mixed with the cream of his precum was enough to keep her on the edge, as the two men passed the bottle.

There was another nod of a message between the two and Angelo produced another bottle of fizz from the small refrigerator next to the tub. This time she barely heard the pop of the cork above her own moans. Another nod and Paulo cupped her bottom and pulled her off the counter and onto the tile floor on top of him, still fully impaled.

Angelo followed them down drizzling champagne over the slope of her back, the bubbles cascading down to tickle and stimulate her anus. Before she could respond with more than a gasp, Paulo pulled her forward against his chest and there was another cascade of champagne against her back hole. This time when she gasped, Angelo went to work on it with his tongue, and then slid a finger inside the tight sphincter, massaging and caressing and rimming. She knew where this was heading, and as though the two men could sense her nerves, Angelo handed the bottle to Paulo, who offered it to her. She drank liberally, then handed it back, raising her ass as much as she could while still riding Paulo mercilessly against the tiles. Both men took a long draw on the bottle, then Liza felt another drizzle on her ass and Angelo scissored two fingers up into her. ‘Relax,’ he whispered against her neck. ‘You’re gonna love this.’ He pulled back just enough that she could hear him pouring champagne. First she felt it against her open hole and then onto his cock. The bubbles tickles and stimulated the sensitive anal tissue and she bucked and shivered and came again. It was that moment that Angelo chose to push his cock up into her tight asshole. The tickle, of fizz and the delicious feeling of being so well filled, along with the thrusting of Paulo beneath her overwhelmed her senses. The fact that her body was so full and the scent of the two men impaling her mixed with her own was so multifaceted catapulted her into an orgasm that threatened to break bones and bruise tender bits. Both men held her tightly and found a rhythm that kept her feeling as though her whole body effervesced just on the edge of another convulsion and another. With Paulo eating her mouth like it was candy and Angelo doing the same to her neck and shoulders, they all three came together. The raw cries of pleasure echoed off the bathroom walls and then muffled themselves against flesh, lips against breasts, against lips, against shoulders and bellies. It was an altered state. She was sure of it. Either that or they’d completely left the planet. Her mind stopped registering anything beyond pleasure and scent, beyond the fact that she was wrapped in the arms of two men who smelled so right, two good men who smelled as good as they really were. God, could it get any better? Then she came again. And again.

At some point there was a bath, then there was a very messy, very sexy meal, a good bit of which was eaten off each other’s bodies. Then there was a shower and then they did their best to destroy the mattress and the bedding before they all collapsed into a comatose sleep.

Dawn was just painting the room in shades of silver grey when Liza awoke sandwiched between Paulo and Angelo, who both held her to them possessively. They were both hard, and that realization made her pussy quiver with the anticipation of their awakening. But for a moment she simply lay there, breathing in the scent of desert lightning and evergreen and forest floor, and her own honey butter scent sharpened and deepened to blend. For the first time in her life she was thankful for her sensitive nose. It had kept her out of a lot of relationships, kept her on her own for a long time, but in the end it had guided her flawlessly to a perfect vocation and to a new life and new loves she would have never found if she hadn’t been willing to follow her nose.

The Mount Series

K D Grace

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Published by Xcite Books Ltd 2015

ISBN 9781783758241

Copyright © Kay Jaybee 2015

The right of Kay Jaybee to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

The story contained within this book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers: Accent Press Ltd, Ty Cynon House, Navigation Park, Abercynon, CF45 4SN

Table of Contents

The Mount Series Boxset
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Fulfilling the Contract
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
To Rome With Lust
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven