To the Limit (22 page)

Lord help him, if that weren't bad enough, those incredible breasts of hers all but spilled over the top of a leather corset-type thing that was hooked together in front with studded silver buckles.

He contained a gut-clenching urge to drop to his knees and rip the corset open with his teeth.

Black leather and silver-ringed wrist cuffs matched the choker circling her neck. Her blue eyes were heavily rimmed in black. Her lips were painted bloodred. Her hair had been swept up in a sexy, messy
"I just climbed out of a bondage bed"
tangle on top of her head.

In her hand was a whip. At that moment, he'd have sold his soul to be her whipping boy.

"Dominate me, Trixie."

She shot him a droll look.

"Did I say that out loud?"

"Get a good look," she said, between clenched teeth, "then roll your tongue back into your mouth. We've got work to do."

Work. Right.

It was going to be a helluv an interesting night.

Chapter 14

Eve had drawn lines her entire life,
stood by her decisions, and didn't cross them. She wasn't a prude, but she sure as hell wasn't an exhibitionist. And never in a million millenniums had she seen herself playing the lead role in an S and M pay-per-view, with Tyler McClain as her leading man, no less.

Ward and June Cleaver they were not, she thought grumpily as she and McClain followed Kat and Sven out of the backseat of Kat's limo. Eve felt ridiculous. And exposed. Lord, was she exposed. It was amazing that so much leather could cover so little skin and no amount of tugging or shifting could rectify the situation.

Working forward through the line of similarly clad party-goers and those hopeful of admittance, Eve was not surprised to see Kat pull off the dominatrix look with aplomb. Her black leather short shorts and silver ring-studded halter top looked sexy and sophisticated. Her thigh-high black boots hugged her long legs like lotion. Sven, too, looked natural in the part—more so because of the striking contrast of his pale skin and hair to the black chain vest and low-riding leather pants.

And then there was McClain. He'd taken Eve's mind off her own life-threatening situation, that was for sure. It hurt to admit it, but her internal muscles had done a lot of involuntary clenching when he'd stood in the middle of Kat's living room dressed in a black leather vest, boots, and pants and something studded and silver that hugged his package and made her wonder if she had a dark side she hadn't known about.

In the next minute, he'd had her fighting a laugh with a surly scowl.

Dominate me, Trixie.

She shook her head and tried to steady herself with a deep breath—thought better of it when her C cup breasts just about popped out of the A cup bustier—and stuck close to Kat.

"They're with us, John," Kat informed a big, brawny bouncer type who was riding herd on the assembled crowd.

"Ask him if Tiffany's here," McClain said over Eve's shoulder as the bouncer motioned them to enter.

"Haven't seen her," John said stoically, "but I just came on duty, so I might have missed her."

"If she comes later, tell her I'm here and looking for her, OK?" Kat slipped him a hundred.

"Sure thing, Ms. Hofsteader." A wide grin split his face, revealing a gaping space between his front teeth. "You all have a great time now."

While a great time was not on the agenda, Eve couldn't help but be awed by what she saw when they entered the hallowed halls of Oracle, which was billed as one of the most cutting-edge nightclubs in the world. Kat had tried to prepare her for the utter size on the ride over.

"This used to be a church," Kat said above the din of conversation, music, and laughter.

Unbelievable. The entryway was cavernous, the lights alternately dim and vibrant. The sound system was state-of-the-art and filled the echoing chamber with metallic rock like white water boiling over boulders. Modern designs floated in framed rectangles throughout the existing space made up of stone walls and soaring Gothic arches. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people roamed the central hall dressed—or
undressed
in some cases—in variations of their leather and chain theme.

"There are five separate areas, all with different elements." Kat pointed to five individual arches above which the names of the elements were carved in stone.

"'Seduction,' 'Fantasy,' 'Splendor,' 'Escape,' 'Forbidden,' " Eve read aloud.

McClain hung his hands on his hips. "How in the hell are we going to find her in here?"

"We'll split up, as we decided," Eve said decisively. They had talked about it on the limo ride. They all had cell phones and had programmed in one another's numbers. If anyone spotted Tiffany they'd all know within a few minutes and make contact with one another.

"Stay away from Forbidden."

Kat seconded Sven's warning with an adamant nod. "It's reserved for the hard core. Anyone who goes in is considered a player and fair game and up for anything. Bad things can happen in there. Very bad things.

"I'll take Escape," Kat volunteered after a pointed look at Eve and Mac. "Sven, you want Splendor?"

Sven nodded and after a round of "good lucks" and a smacking kiss, he and Kat took off.

"You sure you're up for this?" McClain asked Eve.

"I'm a big girl," she said, and immediately regretted it when his gaze strayed to her plumped-up breasts before crawling slowly back to her face. "You take Fantasy. I'll take Seduction."

"I don't like this," he grumbled as they faced off in the midst of the crowd.

"Noted. Now we're wasting time." She headed for the archway marked: Seduction.

Once Eve passed into Seduction, she entered a realm of ghostly mists and throbbing beats that pulsed all the way to her core. Pure enticement, the room lived up to its billing.

The immediate area was designed with a Moroccan flair and brought images of secret harems and Arabian nights to mind. As her eyes adjusted to the pale light, Eve realized there was a total of three separate rooms that made up Seduction— Intimacy, Night Dreams, and the third, Rhythm, which she had just entered.

Rhythm was a dance floor. Signs crafted of ever-changing colors of pastel neon indicated that Intimacy and Night Dreams were located one level above. Access appeared to be via two suspended Plexiglas staircases that wound sinuously upward, one on either side of the main entryway. Both disappeared in that strange, shimmering mist that permeated the huge room.

She decided to stay where she was and search the dance floor first. The room was cloaked in a shifting blue fog cut only by slow-moving strobes that glinted off silver studs, bare flesh, and dozens of suspended panels of black silk that swayed like sensual energy from the thirty-foot ceilings to the floor. The music was earthy and raw; the eerie light and floating silk panels painted the glut of bodies grinding to the beat with surreal and carnal beauty.

She drifted among the dancers, searching for Tiffany or even Reno or Gorman. At one point, someone grabbed her arm and without a word drew her into a threesome.

"Sorry. Not dancing tonight," she said with an apologetic smile that was summarily ignored.

She ended up moving involuntarily to the music when she was sandwiched between an exotic-looking Asian man wearing a black leather Speedo and a bandolier crisscrossing his chest and a thin blade of a woman in a braided thong and garter belt. Her small breasts were marginally covered in binding leather straps and black star pasties.

With a little careful maneuvering, Eve finally extricated herself. She hadn't gone ten yards, however, when she heard the distinctive sound of a snap clamping shut, followed by a gentle tug on her dog collar.

"I do so love fresh meat," a woman purred with a predatory leer as she reeled in the leash she'd attached to Eve's collar. "Why haven't I seen you here before, sugar? And wandering around on your own? It's a little risky, but not to worry, darling. I'll take
very
good care of you."

Eve forced a smile as the woman, barely wearing a silver-studded black leather thong, chaps, and lots of chains, looked her up and down. A two-inch band of leather circled her gigantic breasts as she moved into Eve's space, blatantly brushing her breasts against Eve's arm.

Amazon
was the first word that came to mind.
Dominant
was the next and
bi
slipped in a very close third. She was easily six feet tall; her severely cropped silver hair was striped with two ink black wings at each temple. She could have been anywhere from thirty to fifty. Hours with free weights had defined the musculature of bulging biceps and well-defined thighs oiled to glistening beneath the filtered light.

"Actually, I was separated from my party," Eve said, hoping she'd get the message that girl on girl was not a part of Eve's repertoire.

Silver incisors flashed a little too close for comfort as she stroked the back of her hand over Eve's cheek. "Pity. Here I was hoping you might be at loose ends."

When she ran a long, sharp nail painted midnight black along Eve's jaw, then scraped it slowly down her throat, stopping between her breasts, Eve quelled a shiver of discomfort.

"Of course," the woman continued, slowly pulling her hand away, "if your party truly missed you, they never would have let you get this far away. Come with me, dear heart. I make excellent company."

Very deliberately, Eve reached up and unhooked the leash. "Thank you. But I really must find my friend. Tiffany Clayborne? Do you know her?"

Her thwarted seducer made a moue of disappointment as she tucked her leash into a belt riding low on her bare hips.

"Sorry, darling. I haven't seen her. You truly are exquisite. If you get bored, you can find me in Forbidden."

Eve's skin crawled as she watched the woman, hips swaying seductively, saunter away. She spent another half an hour on the dance floor—no one had seen Tiffany—before slowly climbing the winding stairway toward Intimacy. She ended up fielding five more offers of illicit sex before moving on.

In Night Dreams, she stumbled onto a couple having a very private party in a very public place. She was about to give up her search and check in with McClain when her cell phone rang. She ducked into an empty alcove so she could hear.

"I think I've found her." It was Kat.

"Where?" Eve gripped the cell tightly.

"Someone saw her going into Forbidden about half an hour ago. I'm heading there now."

"Call Sven. I'll call McClain. We'll go in together. Do not go in there by yourself, do you hear me? You wait for us."

"Tiffany may not have time to wait."

"Kat—"

"You call Sven," Kat interrupted. "I'm going after her." She disconnected.

"Damn it!" Eve punched in McCain's number as she hurried toward the nearest exit.

Her name had gotten them inside the club. Tiffany didn't mean anything to anybody. It was her
last
name, Clayborne, that counted.

She
counted. She had to keep telling herself that. She was a real person. She wasn't a dumb slut. She wasn't a cokehead. It was Lance who made her take the drugs.

God, she was so wasted. She wasn't even sure where she was. Oh yeah. Oracle. Forbidden. Not good. Not good at all.

Music blasted from multiple speakers with the subtlety of a freight train; the leaden beat of a bass guitar pulsed through her head like a punctured vein pumping blood. She lay helplessly back on a bed of black silk cushions, brushed absently at the hands groping her breasts. Where was Lance? She was scared. She wanted to leave.

All around her, bodies moved, slid against hers like a knotted clew of snakes, sweaty and oily and smelling of incense and sex. And she wished she were numb instead of just stoned.

She felt a tongue slide across the inside of her thigh. She moaned, curled into a ball on her side, and thought she was going to be sick. Someone pushed her to her back again and held her there. All she could do was stare up at a ceiling filled with murals of depraved sex acts with animals, and blood and unfamiliar faces, hovering above her. She closed her eyes against the shimmer of lights and the disgusting things they were doing to her.

Someone started crying. She opened her eyes, felt the tears on her face, and realized it was her. The tears came in rivers, huge, wracking sobs that shook her body and made her cry harder.