Temptation at Twilight: Lords of Pleasure (7 page)

“It’s time to go, pretty,” Val said, strolling into his bedroom. She’d been staying with him, and she had to admit she’d miss his solid warmth.

“Why don’t you just keep me? I like this arrangement,” she admitted, then dropped her gaze to the floor.

Valafar tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him. “Why?”

Anxiety fluttered in her stomach, and she cursed herself for speaking up. “Why should you keep me?”

“No. Why do you like being here with us?”

“I . . .” Why did she? Was it Val and Zen she wanted, or . . .

“Be honest with yourself, Harley. Drop the pretense,” he demanded.

“What do you mean?” Her attempt at being obtuse failed.

“In the few days you’ve been here, I’ve seen you behave like a young woman stumbling your way through life without a clue, as when we found you on the road. But unlike most of the clan, Zen and I have seen through your act.”

Her mouth fell open. “What act? I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

The demon studied her for a moment. “Perhaps you really don’t,” he said thoughtfully. “Tell me, why were you traveling in that broken-down heap through this part of the country, especially a sultry place like New Orleans?”

“I lost my job and—”

“That’s not what I’m getting at,” he said patiently. “Why here?”

“I don’t know.” But a picture began to form. Of herself, packing and running away.

“I think you do. Of all the places you could’ve run to, you chose the most debauched city on the continent. You arrived with practically nothing to your name. Why?” he pressed.

She swallowed. “Because I want something . . . more.”

“Yes? What are you lacking? Go on.” His intense gaze bore into her, prying out her intimate secrets.

Where to start?
“What am I lacking? I’ve never had anything.” Sadness rose in her breast, the pain crushing her all over again. “I was raised in the orphan sector of St. Louis, and turned loose to fend for myself at age eighteen. I had a series of jobs that didn’t pan out, but finally landed a good one that I liked, writing up local events for the newspaper. Gallery showings, black-tie dinners—things like that.”

“Sounds boring as hell.”

“It paid the bills,” she defended. Then slumped in her seat. “I actually liked keeping up with the Who’s Who. And I even managed to snag a wealthy businessman of my own.”

“Obviously, things didn’t end well between you.”

“No.” The memories, the bitter disappointment, rose to try to drag her under. “He was a regular human male, a handsome patron of the arts. We met at one of the showings I covered, and the attraction was instant. For a while, I thought I’d found my prince. He was attentive and loving, and bought me expensive stuff.”

“But?”

She hunched her shoulders. “The sex was . . . nice. Missionary. And not real frequent.”

“Ah,” Val said knowingly. “You became bored.”

“Yeah,” she whispered, shame clogging her throat. “I was restless, and I tried to get him to be more adventurous in the bedroom. He wasn’t comfortable stepping out of the sexual box, though. I really tried to be happy, but I felt like something was missing. Then one night Jason threw a cocktail party, invited some of his rich friends. One of them was a wolf shifter, sexy as sin and ready to find a playmate for the night.”

“And he found you, a flower ripe for plucking,” Val guessed, smoothing her hair. His voice was quiet, without censure.

“More like a slut ripe for a good hard fucking.” She laughed, but the sound was sad. “He kept cornering me, and he wasn’t shy about getting across what he wanted. He radiated bad boy from every pore, and he smelled so damned good. He said I deserved more than what his staid friend could give me, and he’d show me what I’d been missing.”

She paused, but Val waited for her to continue.

“He finally took my elbow and steered me toward a guest bedroom. The party was going strong, and no one would notice. The excitement, the thrill of doing something naughty, was too hard to resist. I told myself maybe Jason would like us being more open with our sex lives, more daring, if only he knew. After that, I didn’t think at all.”

“Was the wolf good?”

Despite her shame, heat flooded her limbs at the memory. “Better than. He treated me like I was there for his pleasure, ordered me around. Finally, he flipped me over, got me up on my hands and knees, and gave me the hard fucking I’d been craving. And he did it in half-wolf, half-man form.”

“Kinky,” Val praised in admiration.

“It was such a turn-on. I can still feel his fur brushing my thighs and my back. His long, thick cock pounding deep as his claws dug into my hips. I’d never come more violently in my life.” Gods, she’d loved it. Every second.

“The two of you must’ve made quite a sight.”

“Especially to Jason, who walked in during our incredible orgasm. He was shocked at first, hurt, and then . . .” She shuddered. “I’ve never seen any man so angry. He started screaming at me, calling me a whore. In less than half an hour, I was out on the curb beside my truck with a bag and nothing else to my name.”

“You had your job, though.”

“Not for long. First thing the next morning, my boss called me in to his office. He was very up-front about the fact that Jason had wielded his substantial influence to get me fired.”

Val’s eyes glowed. “Those bastards! They forced you out of St. Louis? Left you with nothing?”

“Not exactly. The shifter felt bad about what happened and how Jason had reacted, so he offered me a place to stay. But I left after only a week.”

“Why? Wasn’t there chemistry between you?”

“Oh, I really liked him. But I still longed for something more, something he couldn’t give me.”

Valafar laid his hand over hers. “And now I believe you can answer my question. Why New Orleans?”

Val was right. She let out a deep breath. “Because New Orleans is a place of old magic and even older sin. It called to me, and I knew I could find what I’m looking for here.”

“Which is?” Though he already knew.

“A male who’ll own me completely, who won’t hold back. Who’s used to taking what he wants and will make me his.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” His lips curved up and his eyes danced with mischief.

“Just the part about hurting Jason,” she admitted. “I still feel guilty about that.”

Val snorted. “To hell with Jason! The spineless twerp couldn’t keep his woman satisfied and ignored her needs. Then he tossed that woman onto the street and cost her a good job! No real man would’ve done those things. Instead, he would’ve learned what made her happy and fixed the problem. No, don’t waste another second feeling guilty over the likes of him.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Easy, no. But the solution is closer than you think.”

“And that means I can’t stay here?” Another pang hit her at the idea of being parted from them. Seemed like she was destined never to stay in one place for long and would always have to endure the pain of people slipping through her grasp.

“Not if you hope to find where you truly belong,” Zen said, stepping into the room.

It was inevitable—she couldn’t stay. It was time to admit that.

She glanced between the two demons. “Will you come to me if I need you?”

“You bet,” Zen said.

Val agreed. “Call or send word. Not only will we come—we’ll personally tear apart the slimeball who’s hurting you. I promise.” Demons didn’t make oaths lightly.

She nodded. “Okay. I guess that will have to do.”

He laughed. “Cheer up. You’re going to be fine. Ready?”

“Do I really have to wear this? I feel ridiculous.” She frowned down at her attire, if a skimpy see-through wrap of black lace that barely covered her naked ass could be called that.

“You’re going to be auctioned, and then you’ll be wearing nothing at all, so why does it matter?” He sighed, gazing at her fondly for a moment before straightening and schooling his features. “For what it’s worth, I wish you were my mate. Then I wouldn’t ever let you go and I would reward your devotion by spoiling you rotten and fulfilling your every sexual desire. Though I suspect you’ll soon have your new master eating from your hand. Shall we?”

They led her outside to a big black Hummer with tinted windows. There was a driver, a demon she’d never met, and as they slid into the back, he merely waited in silence until they were settled before pulling away.

This trip with her captors was much smoother than the previous one, preferable by far to flying without her own set of wings. The interior of the car was dark and quiet, and the demons provided a sense of security, for which she was grateful. But she had to wonder how safe she’d really be tonight.

“Is there some sort of screening process at this club, or do they just let any potential owner in to bid on slaves?” Her hands were clenched in her lap, nearly bloodless from having been squeezed together. She found it hard to believe anyone there would be as potently male as Val and Zen.

Zen shrugged. “They have to be rich to even darken the door of Club Lash.”

“Just because my owner has money doesn’t mean he won’t be cruel,” she pointed out.

“Or she.”

Harley’s eyes widened. That was a possibility she hadn’t considered, and her pulse quickened in dread. Women could be unbearably mean to one another in all sorts of creative ways. More so than men, sometimes. What if her owner was a mated female and wanted Harley only for menial work? Like cleaning house or cooking.

Well, she hated cleaning with a passion, but that would be safe. And, yeah, she’d be bored to tears within a week.

A big finger tilted up her chin, and she looked into Val’s eyes. “Don’t worry, sweet. I happen to know several prominent citizens who’re attending tonight’s auction, and once the crowd gets a look at you, no worthy male in his right mind would allow such a beautiful slave to be purchased by anyone who’s not going to savor your lush body.”

She flushed at his words. “Flatterer,” she muttered.

“No. Flattery is insincere, and I’m very serious. You are gorgeous, and your master will know he’s a lucky bastard.”

“Thanks.” She wasn’t so sure. But showing fear would gain her nothing but the wrong kind of attention.

All too soon, the limo arrived at the back entrance to the club, and she was ushered inside under the watchful eyes of her companions.
Captors.
A hysterical giggle bubbled up and she somehow stifled it. Val and Zen might be demons, but they weren’t nearly as ruthless as they’d have most folks believe. More than likely they’d let her out of this if she
begged
—and she hadn’t done that. They knew her most secret desire and were allowing her to play it through, with the promise they’d come to her rescue if things went south.

She must be crazy to actually want to go through with this.

Val whispered a warning in her ear. “Don’t speak unless you’re asked a direct question. There’s a fine line between showing spirit and displaying insubordination that could get you punished, and it’s best not to test unknown waters.”

Heart fluttering in her throat, she nodded.

The club staff was waiting for them, and a slim young man with long purple hair ushered them into a small dressing room. Or, in her case, an
un
dressing room. The boy, who couldn’t have been a day over twenty-one, directed her to stand in the center of the room.

He gave her an impish smile. “My name is Kai. My, aren’t you a looker? The bouncers will have to beat the bidders off you.” Waving a hand at the wrap, he said, “Drop it so we can polish the goods, honey. And don’t look so worried—you don’t have anything I haven’t seen a zillion times before, and I prefer guys anyway.”

Following Val’s advice, she remained quiet, though she suspected this young staff member wouldn’t mind if she spoke. Maybe asked a few questions. However, she had no idea whether he’d get in trouble for being too friendly to the slaves, so she buttoned her lip.

She let the wrap fall to the floor in a puddle at her feet and gave a shiver. Soon her audience would consist of a whole room full of horny men.

“Cold?” Kai inquired, grabbing a jar of something off a nearby shelf.

“Yes, a little.”

“You won’t be for long. My job is to warm you up.” He punctuated the statement with a cheeky wink.

She wanted to ask how, but figured that would be pointless when he’d show her soon enough. Opening the jar, Kai scooped out a generous amount of a pale, shiny substance. Not lotion, but what, she wasn’t sure. A sweet scent, a hint of almond and honey that was quite pleasant, teased her nose. Smearing some on her arm, he began to spread and work in the stuff as he talked.

“This is slave oil. It’s a natural compound designed to make the skin take on a healthy-looking glow without the heavy presentation of regular body oil. It’s totally edible, which means your master can lick your sweet body to his heart’s content. Or you can lick him. It contains an aphrodisiac that absorbs into the skin, though, so treat it like alcohol and never ingest too much of it in one session. It’s expensive, but no master worth his salt will be without a supply.”

He looked up as he rubbed the cream onto her other arm, as if awaiting a response. She nodded in understanding, and he happily kept up his task. She noted that, indeed, her skin began to tingle, and soon became comfortably warm. True to Kai’s word, the properties of the paste chased away the chill, and strange things began to happen.

As she inhaled the yummy scent of the almond-honey paste, the buzzing warmth started to fan out, creeping with clever little fingers, making her hyperaware of her nakedness. Suddenly she felt so very wicked and wanted to wallow in it. She longed to be seen and touched, her body spread for delight.

“That’s it, sweetie,” Kai crooned softly, his voice hypnotic. His capable hands smoothed the cream over the length of each of her legs, then moved to her back and down, lightly over the curve of her ass. “Just let go and enjoy.”