Lover Enraptured toa-2

by Jodi Redford

  Jerrick stopped thumbing through the papers. “Lay it on me.”

  “Apparently Francesca first gained status as a highly sought-after dominatrix at a rival club here in town called Lover’s Knot. Word on the street is the proprietress there used to be fairly chummy with Francesca.”

  “Any way you can get me a meeting with the woman?”

  “Already done. You’re invited for a drink at her bar around seven.”

  Grinning, Jerrick thwacked the papers against the edge of Hammond’s desk. “You might be a cranky sonofabitch, but you’re a damn good man to have on my side.”

  “Keep the flattery for the ladies. Just make sure you deliver that special-reserve Ginnish you’ve been promising the past two months, asswipe.”

  After collecting a few more of Hammond’s endearments, Jerrick stuffed the papers in his rear pocket and headed back to the parking garage. If he was lucky, his meeting tonight would get him behind Rapture’s doors and one step closer to ensuring Avi’s safety.

  Chapter Eleven

  The way Avily saw it, if she was going to convince Jerrick she could fake being a skilled dominatrix, she needed to do some reconnaissance. Which meant covertly scoping the pros in action. Since she couldn’t very well waltz into Club Rapture without blowing her cover, Plan B was in order.

  She gave the rather intimidating bald, tattooed fellow guarding the entrance to Lover’s Knot an uncertain glance and decided to resort to Plan C instead—finding another way in besides sweet-talking her way through the front door. Backtracking to the alley she’d passed earlier, she systematically checked the two side exits and found them aggravatingly inaccessible from the outside. Unlike Jerrick, lock picking had never been her forte. Just as well, considering she didn’t even have a measly compu-card handy to jimmy the locks. She rounded the rear of the building and spied a door propped open with a small wooden crate. Pumping her fist in victory, she ascertained the coast was clear and made a dash for the door.

  Judging from the various boxes of packaged foods stacked in the hall, she was on the other side of the kitchen. A quick peek through the doorway confirmed her suspicion. Sneaking by before anyone could spot her, she followed the short corridor, passing several unoccupied rooms that seemed to be nothing more than offices.

  The muted, sensual beat of music drifted from the distance, luring her onward. She came to a pair of double doors with large heart cutouts centered in the red, shellacked metal. The cavernous room beyond housed a crowded bar and a dance floor packed with provocatively dressed people writhing together in syncopation to the erotic tune thrumming through the central speakers.

  Feeling woefully conspicuous in her frumpy business attire, Avily pushed through the doors and made her way to the bar. Ignoring the few patrons who gave her curious looks, she flagged down the bartender and ordered a Fairy Sex Fizz before snagging a vacant booth in the corner where she could scope the action.

  Fifteen minutes into her stakeout, it became all too apparent that the really good stuff was reserved for the non-public rooms. Definitely a hiccup to her plan. Not like it wouldn’t be remotely odd—strolling in on some random stranger getting his ass paddled and asking if she could take notes. Grunting, she took a healthy slug of her cocktail, fortifying herself with liquid courage. Her attention drifted to the bar and locked on a familiar face. She choked, the swallow of Fairy Sex Fizz threatening to reverse course.

  Jerrick. What the hell was he doing here? And why now, of all inconvenient times? She watched him engage the bartender in a brief exchange of words, panic welling to the forefront. If he caught her here, guaran-damn-teed he’d send her packing. Then how would she gain the intel she needed? Slouching lower in the booth, she held her breath, willing him to look anywhere but her direction.

  Of course her thoughts produced the opposite effect. Leaning his hip against the glossy fiber-optic bar, he shot a hooded look toward the too-brightly lit corner where she huddled. Even from this distance, she detected the subtle shift in his demeanor when his gaze landed on her.

  The noisy din in the room drifted into the background, an inconsequential soundtrack to the awareness and tension orbiting through the endless space between them.

  Fast as the spell of fascination was woven, it unraveled with one vicious tug when Jerrick straightened with a snap she swore she felt to the marrow of her bones.

  Aw shit. He’d moved from surprise and bewilderment over her presence to You’ve got some fucking explaining to do.

  She really hated that portion of their encounters.

  His posture equal parts rigid and deadly calm, he stalked toward her booth and hauled up short next to her seat, his thick, ink-black lashes nearly obscuring the slit of his gaze. His expression was carved from a substance harder than stone. “Damn it, Avi, what are you doing?”

  Feeling like a ninny of epic proportions, she steeled her spine and scooted upright in the booth. “You insisted that I know nothing about sex and places like this. Well, I’m intending to rectify that.”

  “Is it your primary goal in life to drive me insane?”

  Not purposefully, but she did seem to excel at it.

  “How the bloody hell did you even get in here?”

  “Kitchen door.”

  A growl slipping between his teeth, he slid in next to her, his knee bumping hers. Rather than moving over and granting her a semblance of breathing space, he pressed his thigh into hers. His nearness immediately sent her hormones on buzzing alert. She stared into his eyes, drowning in the mesmerizing azure of his gaze. A fluttery sensation rippled through her tummy. With any other member of the fae—particularly a Maddoc like Jerrick—she might have chalked up her fascination as a byproduct of his fairy sex magic. But oh no, her damnable obsession with him had nothing to do with spells. Though gods knew, that’d be infinitely easier to break than the pathetic reality residing in her heart.

  She loved him. And more and more, she feared the impossibility of that status changing.

  His gaze trekked around the room, covertly cataloging its occupants. “You’ll have to sneak out the same way you came in. I don’t trust Baldy at the door not to raise a ruckus.”

  “I’m not going.”

  Another warning growl issued from him that would have intimidated the crap out of a lesser woman.

  Okay, she might have been a teensy bit intimidated. But damn if she was budging. She backed up her resolve by taking a slow, deliberate sip of her fruity drink.

  His features tightened. “In two minutes I have a meeting with the proprietress, and there is no way in hell I’m leaving you here by yourself, Avi.”

  “Hmm, then I guess you’ll have to let me tag along then, won’t you?”

  For several nerve-wracking seconds, they engaged in a mute stare down. The ultimate tie-breaker appeared in the guise of a uniformed staff member approaching their table. The man offered a curt nod. “Madam Love will see you now.”

  Madam Love? Jeez, that was a bit hokey. Avily automatically scrambled to vacate the booth along with Jerrick when he stood. Judging from his dark glower, he was none too pleased at her shoehorning her way into his meeting. Too bad. That’s what the bastard got for trying to oust her from this gig.

  “If you’ll follow me?” Gesturing with his arm, the club employee led them toward the hallway that Avily had recently cased. He ushered her and Jerrick into the largest of the offices.

  An eye-popping mural depicting lovers entwined in various erotic embraces took up most of the back wall, but it was the gorgeous blonde woman sitting at an intricately carved borasha wood desk who commanded all attention. She gifted Avily and Jerrick with a dazzling smile and indicated the twin burgundy leather armchairs resting across from her. “Welcome. Please have a seat.”

  Jerrick and Avily dutifully obeyed the request, and the woman blatantly appraised them. “Yes, you two are clearly in desperate need of my help.”

  Avily blinked. “Pardon?”

  The woman steepled her fingers and gav
e a considering hum. “I’ve seen it before. Too many times. You wouldn’t believe the number of couples who walk through my doors who are in a similar predicament. Constantly taking two steps back while traveling the road to love.”

  “I think you have us confused with someone else. Avi and I aren’t a couple. I’m your seven o’clock appointment.” Jerrick cocked his head toward Avily. “Technically she’s not supposed to be here, but Avi has a slight problem listening to direction.”

  Somehow she resisted the strong desire to kick him in the shin. “No, I believe you have a major problem trusting that I know what I’m doing.”

  Madam Love sighed. “My work is going to be cut out for me with you two.”

  “Don’t sweat it. She’s leaving anyway.”

  “Not a fat chance.” Ignoring the fierce look Jerrick swung on her, Avily picked an imaginary piece of lint from her blouse.

  Jerrick began to say something more, but Madam Love cut him off with a brisk hand wave. The woman abandoned her seat. Smoothing the skirt of her snug purple sheath, she perched on the front edge of her desk and scrutinized them intently before focusing the full weight of her stare on Jerrick. “There is something within you that resists all matters of the heart. A hurt that has scabbed over, though not entirely healed.”

  He visibly stiffened but remained silent.

  Madam Love transferred her attention to Avily. “You, on the other hand, have a tendency to wear your heart on your sleeve.”

  Avily gaped at the woman. Am I that obvious?

  “This isn’t necessarily a bad thing,” Madam Love continued. “But it leaves you open for being easily wounded. And when that happens, you’re quick to temper and revenge.”

  Jerrick grunted. “Shit, she’s got you pegged.”

  Madam Love snapped her fingers, making Avily snigger at the pissy look Jerrick awarded the woman. “So you see how these two stubborn qualities force you to butt heads with each other? But there is also another unavoidable outcome when you produce that much friction—intense fire. It burns brightly within you both. Twin flames building toward inescapable combustion. You can choose to fight it, or let it consume you. Either way, it’s only a matter of time before Amora ignites the final fuse.”

  Judging from Jerrick’s tight expression, he was determined to stick with the first option. Not that Avily was the least surprised. He’d made it perfectly clear where he stood on the matter of rocking the sheets fantastic with her.

  His gaze turning frosty, he leaned back in his chair and stared Madam Love down. “I may be fae, but I don’t proscribe to any of that bullshit regarding Amora. Far as I’m concerned, she holds less value than the cheap metal trinkets being sold outside in her glory.” There was no mistaking the ripe sarcasm inherent in his tone upon that last word.

  Avily winced, certain that Madam Love wouldn’t take kindly to having her namesake belittled so arrogantly. Rather than strike Jerrick dead with a withering glare, the woman granted him a radiant smile. “It is always the ones who protest the loudest who ultimately fall the hardest.”

  Jerrick’s eyes narrowed, but he wisely kept his trap shut. Avily knew it killed him to do so. If not for wanting to stay within the Madam’s good graces, he’d probably say something unbearably rude that’d earn him a well-deserved kick in the ass, followed by an escort out the front door.

  Madam Love folded her hands in her lap and eyed Avily and Jerrick shrewdly. “I think we should get started on your training immediately. There’s already been too much time wasted.”

  Frowning, Jerrick straightened from his indolent slouch, his boot heels performing an ugly screeching noise on the polished wood floor. “I think you’re confused again.” He shook his head, his bemusement swiftly giving way to a scowl. “Goddamn Hammond. He was supposed to explain to you why I’m here.”

  “Oh, he did. You’re looking to get inside Rapture, are you not? To locate a petty thief who might be after my dear friend Francesca’s private art collection?”

  Biting back her snort of laughter proved one of the toughest feats Avily had yet accomplished. Talk about a brilliant piece of horseshit. If Madam Love only knew the truth—that Jerrick was most likely the petty thief he was chivalrously protecting Francesca from.

  Adopting the most ridiculously feigned look of compassion to ever adorn a lying thief’s mug, Jerrick nodded. “It’s imperative this conversation goes no further than these walls. My undercover team of operatives has been on this scumbag’s tail for years. We can’t afford for him to catch on that we’re closing in.”

  Undercover team of operatives? Damn, he’d really improved his slick con these last five years. She almost believed his load of malarkey.

  “Oh, but of course,” Madam Love enthused, her perfect face flushed with conspiratorial glee. “I won’t breathe a word to anyone. Furthermore, with my vetting, you’re guaranteed access to Rapture.”

  Jerrick nodded. “Good. Then I may not even need another female to get me in.”

  Twin spikes of hurt and jealousy lanced Avily’s heart. He’d intended to replace her? She sucked in a trembling breath, hoping against hope it’d barricade the pain from exploding in her chest. Rat bastard was too good a name for him.

  “Perhaps.” Madam Love’s expression turned calculating. “But I think perhaps two is better than one, in this case.” Eyes shining, she winked at Avily.

  I really like her. Avily bit her lip to hide her grin.

  Jerrick blinked before swiftly covering his discomposure with a ready and charming smile that displayed a blinding flash of his teeth. Ten to one he was battling the urge to grind them. “I’m afraid that’s out of the question. Avi isn’t prepared to take on a job of this magnitude.”

  “Nonsense,” Madam Love decreed with a flick of her wrist. “I can tell she has spunk and fortitude up the wazoo.”

  Well damn. That was enough to make her grin like a loony dope.

  “Perhaps,” Jerrick conceded between clenched teeth. “But it doesn’t change the fact she’s not equipped for this particular mission, and she knows it.”

  She met the unwavering conviction in his gaze, and bitter defeat hollowed her chest. No matter how hard she might try to convince him otherwise, he’d never believe her capable of partnering with him on this.

  The pathetic part was she didn’t even know why it was so important to her. She hadn’t wanted to do it in the first place. So why did it feel like everything that meant a damn to her was being ripped away?

  Because this job slipping through her fingers was akin to letting him down. Being a failure in his eyes. There, she’d admitted the bleak truth. Even after all these years, his praise and admiration was something she desperately craved to the depths of her soul.

  She was a sappy moron. No doubt if he patted her on the head like an obedient pup, she’d smother him with exuberant licks and kisses.

  Hell, she’d do that whether he petted her or not. Shame welling inside her like a homely beast deemed too hideous for daylight, she broke stares with Jerrick and studied the rug beneath Madam Love’s desk, pretending fascination with the pattern of colorful hearts when in actuality she was battling to keep her anguished tears in check.

  “I’m sorry you see it that way.” A weary sigh fell from Madam Love. “Nevertheless, in order to acquire such a generous boon from me, you’ll do exactly as I say. Which means she will be partnering you.”

  Jerrick’s coloring turned several shades beyond choleric red. Any hotter and an egg could have been fried on his forehead. “I told you, that’s out of the question.”

  “Nothing is out of the question when you want something badly enough.” Madam Love lifted to her feet and patted Jerrick’s rigid jaw. “Maybe one of these days you’ll accept the truth of that.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Jerrick knew without a shadow of a doubt that he’d live to regret agreeing to Madam Love’s damnable terms. It became all too apparent when she led them into a dimly lit room hosting decidedly decadent décor.
Every square inch of the space oozed sexual excess. He eyed the padded spanking bench, his fly suddenly snugger than it’d been a second ago. His already overtaxed imagination easily conjured an image of Avi, naked and cuffed, his hands gripping her hips and tugging her into his thrusts while his cock plowed into her pussy.

  Smothering his groan, he tore his attention from the bench, his focus skipping over the nearby rack of dildos before stalling on the swinging mesh recliner suspended on chains. Stirrups and a matching pair of fur-lined cuffs completed the enticing tableau. Another vivid scene invaded his fantasies—Avi spread before him on the suspension chair, her honey the sweetest nectar on his tongue while he feasted on her. He’d take his time, until she was squirming and panting for him. Only then would he slowly feed his cock into her tight little sheath, watching her swallow him inch by inch, glorying in the silky ripple of her hot, wet flesh clasping him in a snug embrace.

  He returned his focus to Avily and Madam Love before he completely lost circulation behind his fly. The one benefit to this clusterfuck was he wouldn’t be alone with Avi. With Madam Love presiding over them, it wasn’t bloody likely he’d forget himself and let his hands or cock wander past the safety zone.

  “My dear, have you known the pleasure of being under the control of another?” The Madam stepped behind Avily and lovingly ran her fingers through Avi’s golden waves before kissing her cheek.

  Despite the innocence of the gesture, his traitorous cock thickened. He’d be a filthy liar if he didn’t admit that his depraved brain was having a merry time assembling provocative scenarios aptly titled The Virgin and the Dirty Dominatrix.

  Clearly he needed therapy. Or at least he would after this was all done. Assuming he possessed any sanity worth saving.

  “N-no, I haven’t.” Avi licked her lips. Rather than glancing toward Madam Love, her soulful eyes pinned him in place. “But I think I’d like it. A lot.”