Role Play (8 page)

Inside it was sleek and modern, with glazed
concrete floors and frosted glass partitions. I passed the stairs that went down to a big open space in the basement, and went to the main bar in the back. It was busy, like it always was for Pleasure Salon. People liked a low pressure event like this where they could meet in public. Since it was a bar, and people were drinking, there was no playing allowed.

Sierra wasn’t at the bar or seated in the
two rows of banquets. I went downstairs to find the room filled with moving light. A show was going as two people twirled short ropes with balls of fire on the end.

I
homed in on Sierra among the crowd along the side. The cocktail tables were filled with people standing around watching the show.

I
worked my way through the crowd in her direction. Sierra didn’t see me coming. She was focused on the performers. Her black halter dress clung to her curves, making an enticing package.

I
noticed that Sierra never scanned the crowd or the stairs when more people came down, so she wasn’t waiting for someone. Like last time at the Chamber, she was here alone. And she wasn’t chatting up the men around her who kept giving her appreciative smiles in the rare times she looked away from the performers. She wasn’t on the prowl.

What other re
ason than friends or meeting someone new would bring her to Pleasure Salon? The more I looked, the more it didn’t add up.

The fire master up front started flogging the two girls with flaming whips. The girls squealed, probably more for effect than in real pain.

Now Sierra looked away from the show. With shaking hands, she dug out her lipstick and a tiny mirror, and quickly touched up her dark red lips.

I
moved up next to her elbow. “Is that part of your disguise, Sierra?”

When she recognized
me, her expression was shocked, angry and, yes, turned on. She was turned on!

I
knew it. I couldn’t have gone so far if she hadn’t been right there with me. I hadn’t mistaken the way her hips had ground into me, the way her eyes never left mine, the instant connection we had formed in the midst of our scene. All week I kept thinking it was a psycho delusion that rapists probably felt, but here was the evidence in her eyes.

She broke her gaze, turning her head away. “You have some balls coming up to me.
After what you did.”

Her voice was low and husky, like she was
overwhelmed by the memory of it. I leaned in closer, wishing I could rid us of the barrier of her overly curly wig.

“I’ll go upstairs with you,”
I murmured. “Turn myself in to the producers. We’ll tell them how I scared you. I’ll do whatever they say.”

Her startled eyes met
mine. “You wouldn’t.”

“They’ll say I’m
a jerk who shouldn’t have done a mindfuck scene with someone I just met. And they’d be right.” I leaned in to lower my voice. “But I couldn’t resist you.”

We
seemed locked together, the rest of the bar disappearing. We were wrapped together in the darkness, as all the other eyes were focused on the flickering lights.

My
fingertips brushed her cheek, silky soft.

She flinched. “Don’t touch me.”

“I won’t until you ask me to.” I clenched my fist, pulling away. I wanted to keep stroking her cheek, to smooth away the pain in her eyes. “So who are you hiding from in that getup?”

She raised her clasped hands to her breast, forming a barrier between
us. “No one.”

I
gave a short laugh. “Don’t try to bullshit me. I’m a master of disguise, and I see a snow job going on.”

“Get lost.” Without a backward look, she made her way over to the other side of the room.

It didn’t bother me one bit that she was blowing me off. She was hot for me, almost as hot as I was for her. The fact that she was also pissed that I had scared her to death didn’t matter. It might even be one of the reasons why she was so hot for me. Kink could be weird that way.

“Donations!” a girl announced, thrusting a top hat at
me. She was wearing a bondage harness of black rope over a nude bra. Her dark hair was slicked down tightly and wrapped in a bun, with some sort of shiny stuff that likely repelled fire.

I
pulled out a couple dollars, trying to place the girl. I had seen her recently.

Glancing over at Sierra, she was riveted to
us. Then I remembered. This pretty, if rather surly girl had been with the guy Sierra had been chasing down in the Chamber.

The
same guy who was up front packing away the fire gear.

“What’s your name?”
I asked the girl.

“Lola.”

“What’s the name of your group?”

“Transcendence.”
She gave me a mocking smile. “Any more questions and you’ll have to give me five bucks.”

I
laughed at her as she moved on. From across the room, Sierra looked like she was dying to hear what we were saying. But as Lola circled around with the other girl in their ménage, Sierra managed to turn away just as she passed her table.

Sierra was hiding from Lola.
Interesting.

I
waited as Sierra watched the group finish packing up the gear. When they went upstairs, so did Sierra, with me following behind.

Lola’s group was at the bar having a drink and celebrating a good show.
One of the producers was talking to the guy in charge of Transcendence. In the brighter light, the performer’s gnarly broken-down skin made him look older than he probably was.

I
saw that Sierra had parked herself at a banquet along the side wall, where she could see the group through the glass partitions. A couple sat on the other side of her table, ignoring her with their heads very close in deep conversation.

I
went up to the bar to say hi to the couple who produced Pleasure Salon, and got introduced to Martin, the guy with the face. He had come to the city a few months ago, having traveled around the country for the past few years doing gigs. Lola was by Martin’s side talking quietly to her other half in the show, June.

“Were all of you on the road together?”
I asked, including the women in my question.

“June and Spike were. We met Lola here.”

“What kind of shows do you do?”

“Anything we can,” Martin said.
“Party entertainment. Street fairs. Corporate hires. You wouldn’t believe how they want to spice up a party, and we can keep it vanilla and still put on a slamming show.”

Martin handed
me a card that had their website and contact info. It was heavy on the flames, with the word Transcendence blazoned across it.

After I got the spiel,
I went to the other end of the bar. When I caught Sierra’s eye, I raised my drink to her. She looked away, mad.

What was Sierra’s interest in
Martin’s group?

I
waited for Sierra to make a move, but she kept watching from the shadows of the banquets. There wasn’t much to see. Martin worked the crowd, handing cards out to anyone who would take them. A hustler, for sure. Pimping his thing, and shooting for the big brass ring by coming to New York.

But even when Sierra could have gotten a few words with Martin away from the two girls, she didn’t try. She said hello to him when he greeted the other people at her table, and
I could have sworn that Martin didn’t recognize her. Which made it even weirder.

I nursed a drink until
Martin and his crew finally made their noisy departure. Pleasure Salon was winding down and more people were leaving.

Sierra sat up straight as if ready to follow
Martin out. But then she slumped back down.

I
knew I couldn’t walk out that door without trying once more with Sierra. How could any man walk away from a woman like that? Especially after what I had done.

I
kept thinking about her. She haunted my mind, as I remembered little moments, a look or a motion that was seared into my brain. Why did she go to the Chamber? Why was she hiding behind that awful wig?

I
had to find out more.

And
I wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

Chapter 5

Sierra

I
looked up and saw Victor coming towards me. There was an inevitability about his approach that was inescapable, a train wreck that I couldn’t avoid.

I
wished he wasn’t so bronzed and good-looking. It was bad enough he seemed to see right through me, but I could hardly look at him without feeling all sorts of things stir around treacherously inside of me.

Victor
slid into the booth next to me. He didn’t even have the grace to sit on the other side that the couple had just abandoned. I shifted over on the vinyl bench to get further away from him.

“C
an you take off the wig now that they’re gone?” Victor asked first thing.

I
glared at him, angry and frustrated. I had accomplished nothing tonight, except for finding out that Lola was now walking around in her bra and letting her new boyfriend beat her with fire in public.

Even more surprising, the crowd had loved
Lola. Her nasty wisecracks and that twisted scowl she made every time someone tossed her a dollar instead of donating more, only made them laugh. People gave her more because of it!

All
evening I felt panic bubbling up inside of me, like things were slipping out of control. Like Lola was receding into the distance, beyond my reach.

So
I snapped at Victor, “Are you always this much of an asshole?”

“Apparently with you, I am.” His grin was rueful. “If you
still want revenge, I can introduce you to the producers. They’re bound to tell other people what I did, and then they’ll warn all the newbies that they’re taking a risk if they play with me.”

I
couldn’t imagine telling anyone what had happened with Victor. Look at how unsympathetic my own sister was! “I could have told a cop about it, if I wanted to. But I didn’t.”

“You mean that guy in the car who was waiting for you? He looked like a cop.”

Shocked, I finally met his gaze. “You followed me!”

“
We had an intense scene, and you were wobbly. I had to be sure you got home okay. But then I saw another guy was already waiting for you.”

“What’s your problem? You
follow me last week and tonight you’ve been watching me like a hawk.”

“You’re worth watching.”

His tone was so honestly admiring that I couldn’t be a complete bitch. Besides, the damage was done. He had seen everything tonight.

“Come on,”
Victor urged. “Tell me what’s going on. Maybe I can help.”

I
gave him a sideways look. “Why would you help me?”

He shrugged.
“After what I did, I owe you one.”

He sat there looking so delicious that
my hands twitched, wanting to touch his hair and his chest. It was traitorous, that feeling.

Sighing,
I pulled off the red wig. It itched, and Lola was long gone. With both hands, I pulled out the barrettes that held my hair in place, letting it fall straight down.

“Much better,”
Victor murmured. He handed me a napkin. “Lipstick, too.”

I
bridled. “What makes you think this isn’t my usual shade?”

“It’s not.”

He said it with finality, as if he had known me for years. He was right, but that didn’t make me any more eager to do what he said. But the way he was stared made me feel like a clown. I slowly rubbed off the showy red color.

“Now we’re talking.”
Victor looked pleased with himself. “Why are you hiding behind all that stuff?”

“It’s my sister, Lola. The brown-haired girl
.“

“The one who looks like you!
Yes, I didn’t see it before under all those curls.” He was nodding as if everything made more sense now.

“S
omething’s going on with her but she won’t talk to me,” I admitted. “She’s got this new boyfriend, Martin, and she’s suddenly started modeling in fetish photos. She broke up with her old boyfriend, Dick, the cop waiting in the car. He’s the one who told me she was at the Chamber. That’s why I went that night. I was trying to find out what she’s up to. I thought Dick could rescue her…”

For the first time,
Victor looked less than self-assured. In fact, he looked a little sick for a moment. “That’s why you were there?”

I
nodded. I could swear he was feeling bad right now. He shifted in his seat, suddenly unable to meet my eyes. “Did you think I was like Monica?” I asked. “That girl I met at the Chamber?”
“I thought you had
some
experience, a little at least. You were keeping those guys away with just your vibe, and let me tell you, that’s not the place for newbies to go roaming around alone.”