She let the yellow silks of her dress ride up her thighs. Exposing the garters, she almost flashed her panties before stopping just short of a full display. Across the room, Jackal leaned forward over his thighs, as though he were braced to stand and come to her. As if he wanted to rescue her from exposing herself so wantonly.
Nina might have imagined it. The pianist appeared to take her songs, and the way she rubbed herself against the top of the instrument as inspiration. Clearly, he assumed she was all but throwing herself at him. Perhaps she was as deluded about Jackal as the musician was about her.
The singing took the edge off. She was really enjoying herself, caught up in a joke the man behind the keys was telling her. Then she glanced back to the shadowy alcove and found it empty. The simmering attention had built up to a rolling boil under her skin. Her panties were completely soaked, and she desperately tried to hide her slick thighs in the darkness. The wake of the Jackal’s departure sent a cool draft down the back of her neck.
It wasn’t as though the guy was made of stone. He probably got tired of watching her flirt and went off in search of someone to ease the discomfort in his groin. She definitely needed to do that herself. Try as she might, she couldn’t relax back into the music and comfortable teasing.
When the server behind the bar announced that they were shutting down, only the musician, herself, and a few cuddling and sleeping guests remained. She blinked around a nearly vacant room in surprise.
“Guess that means it’s time to turn into a pumpkin.” Nina sighed as she sat up, peering into the empty glass to make sure there was nothing left.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to go alone,” the pretty man teased her. He closed down the cover on the keys and flexed his hands. Long, nimble fingers, Nina thought before looking back into eyes shadowed by his mask. His hair was light brown, gleaming and glossy where it fell over the simple black domino mask. His full mouth curled into a promising smile.
“Yeah,” she admitted, pushing out her lower lip. “That is the plan. I am way too drunk to be any fun.” She paused and then giggled. “I bet you are so good with your fingers too. I saw you showing off.”
“I’m good with other things too,” he assured her, grinning wider as he continued their game of cat and mouse.
“I’m sorry,” she said, letting her shoulders fall forward. “Tomorrow? I will be so much better awake and after some sobering. I swear.”
His smile didn’t fade, but there was something about the eyes that didn’t soften. No, she was imagining it. His tone was as light and playful as ever as he purred, “Sure, baby. I will look for your little Golden Pussy tomorrow.” All softness and smooth reassurance.
Hairs along Nina’s neck prickled. Was it a thrill of expectation? Or fear? Sometimes at these parties, she couldn’t tell the difference. Fear, pain, thrill, and pleasure were so tightly balled together.
The net would catch her!
She blew him a kiss and licked her upper lip before winking and rolling bonelessly from the piano and onto her feet. Giving him a pretty view of her pert backside wrapped in the simmering topaz silks as she sauntered from the room. At least, she hoped that was a saunter. At least let it be more of a swagger than a stagger.
It might have been too much scotch.
Her head was swirling. That meant way too much to drink. The halls were empty as she walked along, feeling light and happy. That sexy piano man would be all hers tomorrow. That was worth being alone tonight. Except that she wasn’t alone. She got to sing and watch the most erotic sex she’s seen in months. Somehow, the fully dressed lord of the dead rubbing his cock through his fine woolen slacks all night was almost as erotic as the naked people.
Although she had to admit that house mistress had been on fire. She wondered if that little Leather Daddy was going to be able to walk in the morning. She’d put a bet on no.
Nina went up the stairs without running across anyone. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone to her suite this late. She forgot how the public display used to be an important part of the parties for her. Sure, the wild secret sex was great, but she’d allowed herself to hide away in her comfortable room with a playmate too long. She was missing the good stuff.
She went around the corner and pursed her lips. The lights were all dimmed along this stretch of hall. It was always like that. In fact, she’d had some fairly epic sex in the alcove there last year. Tonight though, it made her think of Tahoe. Her mind was filled with details of the various attacks. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea for the halls to be so dim and secluded. Unlike the other public play rooms, there were no ears to hear if something went wrong.
Because it was trusted the rules were steel.
The net would not break. They were safe.
Rolling her eyes, she sighed. Only a few doors down and she would have her suite. She was already fumbling for her card for the door. First thing in the morning, after properly tormenting her friend’s selection at breakfast, she would hunt down the musician.
Did Piano man like rough play? Or would he be vanilla? He didn’t flirt like someone who-
“Hey, Golden Pussy.”
The voice sent a stab of thrill through her. Panic. Fear. Lust. Hunger. The threats both imagined and real created a drunken slosh of adrenaline in her belly.
“Hey,” she called as she turned. The pianist had come ambling along behind her, soundless up the stairs. Then again, she was so pickled, he might have been marching and clanging cymbals for all she would have noticed.
Dressed in the classy tux and tails, he looked just as stylish and polished as he had when he’d been tickling the keys with her singing across the instrument. She could still feel the vibration of the sound in her bones and thrumming over her skin. But he wasn’t smiling as he prowled towards her.
“I thought I would make sure you were safe,” he said, bright and cheerful in contrast to his expression. “What’s your room number? You look pretty drunk, honey. I didn’t want you to pass out on your way.” His voice pitched with friendliness.
Friendly. Right? She must be misreading the posture because of her intoxication.
“Thank you,” she replied. “I’m good. Just up here at the end.” Why did she lie? Her room was just a few doors down. She shouldn’t need to trick this guy. Right?
His eyes glittered behind the mask. “Oh, good. Come on, Goldie Puss. I’ve got such devious things to do with you. What’s your safe word, huh?”
“What?” she asked. The question came like a gut-punch and she stumbled back a step. Only years of dance saved her from falling on her ass.
“Safe word. What is it?” he demanded. It wasn’t a negotiation as much as theft. “Give me your fucking word! Then, tell me your room number.” Piano man pushed his lean, tall body against her, wrestling for her key-card.
“Lady, are you all right?” A low, growling voice snarled from the far side of the hall. Low, assertive, and so cold. So utterly frosty.
The man started and whirled towards the unexpected voice. “Holly shit! Man, you scared the fuck out of me.”
The shadow separated from the darkness, huge and silent, the voice utterly calm and relaxed, but the threat was there as he closed on the smaller man. “Are you safe, lady?” The voice lowering several octaves, slipping into something soothing as he came closer.
He dwarfed the musician. Anubis’s jackal mask was not laughing now. That slightly gaped smile was a leer of white fangs in the dark steel and bronze mask.
The pianist gawked up at the man. “Fuck dude! I didn’t even see you. I…fucking shit!”
“I just want to get to my room,” she said, hating how her voice quavered. Adrenaline pounded hard through her.
“Very good,” Jackal purred to her. His head tipped and the lenses in the mask gleamed in the darkness. Azure and topaz twinkled over the facets and she could feel the intensity of his focus behind the elaborate black mask. He held himself with a hunter’s poise. She guessed he might be ex-military
or law enforcement. Not only the stance but his silent walk and the stillness now that he stood guard for her.
Maybe she was just that drunk!
This is what the doorman should be like. Part of the shadows and always there! In her experience the doormen, the hired guard, were little more than pretty boys in fancy suits. They carried clubs and Tasers when they came to the rescue after a cry went up. She didn’t think the jackal masked man needed anything to be a deterrent.
The handsome pianist ignored the man and grabbed for her arm. “We’re all good here, man. She just had a little too much to…” Piano man’s voice was torn from him in a raspy grunt.
Jackal didn’t pull out a weapon, he just lunged forward in a pair of long, graceful strides. He grabbed the pianist by the throat and slammed him to the floor. Hard.
She yelped and danced back, sluggish and awkward in her intoxication. But it was over before she could even respond. The floor shivered under her heels withe the impact of the man coming to ground.
Jackal looked up at her, expression hidden by mask and shadow. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I will handle this. Do you need anything?” he whispered softly, all the while holding the musician to the floor by his throat, ignoring his frantic writhing.
Her throat closed around the words she wanted to say. Dear God! He was so fucking strong. Her stomach did a crazy swirling, tightening grasp down to her sex.
A gloved hand offered her key card up to her as his head bowed away from her, turning his attention to the squirming man. “Sssshhhh….” he whispered. “Guests are discouraged from propositioning key-holders.” His words were a very quiet rasp. “Is this discouraging enough for you, boy?”
The musician let out a strangled sound.
She plucked the key card that was offered up to her. Nina thought her legs were going to fail her. Apparently, House Mistress was taking her security to the next level.
Jackal turned his full attention to hauling the pianist to his feet.
“Please. Wait…” she called as Jackal started off with his quarry.
Her voice stopped him, but he didn’t turn around. “Is there any other service I can offer, lady?”
She wanted him to turn to face her. Her heart was still thumping so hard it shivered her whole body. The big man kept his massive back to her, not even looking towards her. When she continued to stand there silent, his head tipped, slightly canting towards her, enough to peer out from the side of his eye.
“Lady? I will send someone to you.”
“No.” She frowned down into her hands and the room key there. Then, on impulse she moved forward and tucked her token into his breast pocket.
He started at her touch and jerked a look down at her. He smelled sharp and clean with an underlying scent she couldn’t quite pinpoint. Something so mild, she wanted to lean closer and press her nose in to savor it. He stayed very still, as though he thought if he moved he might trigger her flight.
“You should have that. For saving me. Um…Thank you.”
She couldn’t read his expression behind the full headed bronze mask and again she longed to strip it off. She wanted him to leave the stupid musician there and come to her room and guard her. Repeatedly.
Before he could say anything, the musician thrashed hard enough in his grip to require his attention. “It is my honor,” he said, so solemn and quiet it was only a rough burr of dark sound. “Be well, lady. I am sorry I wasn’t here faster.” He swept away from her, down the hall, half dragging, half carrying her would-be-attacker away.
Left alone in the hall, she waited, listening to their progress down the stairs and through the lower house, the musician babbling apologies and excuses that were not answered by his captor.
Nina waited a moment longer and then used the key with trembling hands and slipped into her room.
Chapter 3
Soft music woke her.
Nina woke slowly, like swimming through paste. She was so far from waking and everything felt sluggish. The first thought that came into focus was she was so hung over.
Oh, God. So hung over.
How much scotch had she consumed anyway?
Groaning, she swatted down the music coming from the alarm clock. The time shocked her. It was almost time for breakfast.
She curled back into the bed, hugging the pillow, and let herself slowly come up and into wakefulness. She groaned when she shifted her position. The fuzzy memories came crashing back.
She had been attacked. Well, the man had tried to get her….
She jerked fully awake and sat up, pulling the blankets around her. No one was there. Right, because the bad ass enforcer came to rescue her.
Nina had never ever been the damsel in distress. She was all about dishing out consensual violence. Fuck, that had been hot.
She slumped back down and stared into the dark as she replayed the events. Things were blurry thanks to the scotch, but she couldn’t have imagined Jackal throat slamming the pianist. Did House Mistress know what happened?
Pulling the blankets up to her nose she breathed in the fresh fragrance of the linens, struggling to put a name to the scent of him.
Jackal.
He was sexy as fuck. And earlier that night he’d stroked himself while she sang. Except he’d told her what he wanted. He wanted to blindfold her and treat her like a subby kitten.
“Oh, Nina. Get real.” Pushing thoughts away, she rolled out of bed and shuffled to the shower.
She’d almost reached the bathroom when a knock rattled the door. For a moment she stood there, gripping the front of her silken robe with her heart slamming in her ribs. The first impulse was to ignore the knock. Last night a man had tried to get into her room by force. What if he’d come back to follow through with what he’d started the night before?
Ridiculous, she told herself.
Shoving back the grip of dread, she affixed her mask to her face and set the security bar. She cracked the door open enough to peer into the hall.
A large doorman in a tux and domino mask stood at attention with a box held in his gloved hands. Her pulse tripped as thoughts of Jackal snuffed out all her earlier concern that the musician might have come for her. She found herself wishing Jackal in his iron and bronze mask was standing there in her doorway instead.
This man wasn’t nearly as huge or impressive as the man in the Anubis mask, but he wasn’t simply for show like the other doormen she’d met before. He held himself in the same assertive posture as a fighter. His dark eyes gleamed when he shifted his attention to the security measure and his mouth flattened.
“This is a small gift from House Mistress. She wanted to assure you that she’s aware of the trouble you had last night. Steps have been taken to remedy that problem. The pianist has been excused and if you wish to press any charges on the man for attempted assault, she will support you in every way she’s able. She also wished for me to check that you were well and see if you needed anything.” As he spoke, he extended the box to her without moving closer to the door.
Nina blinked at the steel in the man’s voice and focused her attention from his face to the offering extended to her. Stunned, she released the bar and swung the door open to intercept the gift. The shoebox sized package felt light in her grasp as she balanced it before her. She realized that he was waiting for her response and sighed.
“I’m fine. I don’t need anything, but you can thank House Mistress for me. I’ll be down for breakfast as soon as I freshen up.”
He inclined his head but didn’t look ready to go on his way. “Shall I remain to escort you?”
Escort her? Heat raced to her face as she shook her head. “No. I mean, that won’t be necessary.”
Gracefully he inclined his head, performing a regal half bow. The genuflection was as courtly as it was out of place here. “I will carry your message along. Please, do not hesitate to call out should you need anything.” He flashed a smile, tapping his knuckles against his chest and then turned to stride away fro
m the door.
She stood staring after the man for a moment; her hangover in combination with his actions left her bewildered and off balanced. His movements were as familiar to her as a handshake. She was reminded of her grandmother and grandfather and even her great-aunts and uncles. Though she’d not seen them since she was a child, she could never forget. Terestchenko was an old, proud family and her father was the first son of a first son and she was the only child of his lineage. The old bloodlines of Terestchenko belonged solely to her and all that came with it.
The weight of that responsibility was the reason she played sexual games of power balances behind a mask. Nina gave away enough of her control during her normal life outside the bedroom. She surrendered to her family’s wishes and needs. She was the smiling, poised dignitary; the figurehead their businesses. Mother and father had grown and expanded the furniture stores, but she was the heir. It was tedious and sometimes overwhelming, but it was her life. Sometimes it felt like it was only when she was at one of House Mistress’s parties that she was her own person.
Sitting on the bed, she drew the package into her lap, but her thoughts were not on the offering of apology and accompanying gift. She focused on the elegant bow and fist pressed to chest motion of the doorman. Last night, Jackal had done the same thing, hadn’t he? She’d been too flustered by him to give it the proper attention, but now this man honored her in the way of the old world. Did they know her somehow?
That would certainly prove interesting if they did. Heiress of the furniture empire caught with a whip in one hand and a crop in the other. Grandmother wouldn’t be able to stop laughing if that hit the news. Father would be much less amused. He might even punish her by forcing her to marry that great bore Demetri Orel.
Obviously, she was allowing her imagination to run away with her. Her parents could be controlling but they wouldn’t dare pressure her into a marriage against her will. Besides, it was presumptuous of her to assume strangers were offering tribute to her when they didn’t even know her.
All Thorns Eve_Gems Book 1 Page 4