Vexxed (JUST BREATHE Ephemera Book 4) (2 page)

Soft pools of low light on the fringes of the main event revealed masked and costumed bodies of all shapes and sizes: sexy clowns—if such things existed—twirling flamenco dancers sans underwear, strong men wearing bondage gear.

Several patrons clustered around the arena and the bar on the west wall. Whispers and giggles echoed from sunken nooks where large, round love seats sequestered those desiring a little public privacy. The faint smells of Fire and sweat and come filtered through the ether, gripping thoughts and bodies. Vexx traced the strongest scents to the south wall, where four picture windows revealed the playrooms, each done up in its own circus theme.

Vexx nodded toward the back of the club. “That’s where we need to be. Time to take my pet for a walk.” She took her bag from Byrn, set it down, and withdrew a thin, silver chain leash with a rhinestone encrusted, pink leather handle. She pointed to the floor. “Hands and knees.”

The flicker of a smile lit Byrn’s eyes. “Yes, Mistress.”

Her stomach did a Jell-O shimmy as she snapped the lead to the hook on his collar. Such a beautiful sound. She remembered it well, though until tonight, Vexx had always been on the receiving end of it.

She sifted her latex-covered fingers through Byrn’s lush hair, then laid the leash on the broad bench of his back. A hint of sweat glistened on his skin. She was tempted to lick it.

Instead, she stepped in front of him, spread and planted her feet just out of his reach, and lifted his chin with a curled finger. “Look at me,” she said loud enough for the nearby crowd to hear.

Attention shifted her way.

Perfect.

Byrn’s lovely tiger eyes rolled up to meet hers. She slowly unbuttoned the trench coat, then snapped it open with a flick of her wrists, revealing her work clothes for the night’s festivities: a full-body, skin-tight, pink rubber catsuit with vertical black racing stripes down the sides. The colors perfectly matched the fat pigtails on either side of her head.

Byrn’s lips twitched, and his leather pants creaked as he adjusted a leg.

Like what you see?
She teased his mind as she resumed control of his leash.

Yes, Mistress.
A trace of smartass bled through his thought.

She couldn’t tell if he was playing along or serious.

You got a safe word I need to know about?

I’ll take my chances without one.
He smiled up at her appreciatively, a ghost of the predator lying in wait sneaking past his eyes.

She yanked the chain so hard, he lost his balance and barely caught himself before tasting carpet. “You smile when I tell you to. Do it again without my permission, and you’ll risk … upsetting me.”

“Yes, Mistress. Apologies. I wish only to serve you.”

She quirked a brow, picked up the bag, and tightened her grip on the lead. “Open wide.”

When he did, she stuffed the duffel’s handles between his teeth and pushed his jaw shut. She gave him her back, tossed the long coat over her shoulder, and pranced toward the playrooms, casually swinging the leash—and her hips—along the way. Byrn crawled behind, undoubtedly giving the ladies—and some of the men—quite a show with his hot body.

Do you sense any Fyres?
she whispered in his mind.

No, but the Wyldlings in this place are jacked. It’d be a shame to let all that Fire go to waste.

You’re with
me
tonight.
Shit, she shouldn’t have thought that. Stupid, stupid.

Jealous much?

She halted her steps, and Byrn’s face collided with the back of her thigh.

Smiling, Vexx turned around. “My, you’re a clumsy slave.” She took the bag swinging from his mouth and removed a riding crop. “You need some training. Sit.”

Byrn’s Fire tensed. He sat cross-legged.

“No. That’s not how a tiger sits.” She brought the crop down hard on his thigh.

He flinched and gritted his teeth. “Apologies, Mistress.” He adjusted his pose, settling on his haunches, legs bent and parted, arms braced on the floor between them. The bite of Fire nipped at the space between them.

Keep that shit under control, or I’m gonna do a lot worse than whack you with a crop.

Is that a promise?
The cockiness swaggering off him was palpable.

She squatted before him, grabbed his chin, and breathed her words an inch from his lips. “I’m not sure I like your attitude tonight, Kitty Cat. But I have just the right adjustment for it.” Taking up the slack of the leash, she twisted the chain around her hand a few times and stood.

“Since you’re so fond of my ass, you will press your nose to it as we walk. For each time contact is broken, you’ll receive one lick from the end of my whip. Now, I know how much you love licks, Pet, but don’t disappoint me. If your performance tonight pleases me, I’ll allow you to tongue bathe me later. This suit needs a good cleaning.” She fiddled with the pink and black rubber, pulled it away from her arm, and snapped it loudly against her skin.

Murmurs of approval rose from her left. A couple of Doms wearing huge smiles looked on.

“Yes, Mistress. Whatever pleases you.”
Bitch.

Vexx barely hid her grin. “Come along.” When she felt the delicious press of his nose between her ass cheeks, she took her first step.
Just where I’ve always wanted you, Byrn. I can’t wait to tell Jet about this.

Can’t say I’m surprised.
A near severing of his physical connection paused his thoughts.

Ooh, hold on tight, baby. I’d hate to have to use a whip on you. You know how much I abhor violence.
She thought-giggled.

He rambled along behind her with jerky steps. It had to be hard to maintain such a difficult stance with her butt up higher than his head. Vexx almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

She increased her pace. Byrn couldn’t keep up.

“That’s one lick for you, naughty kitty.” She waited for him to resume the proper pose and form before moving onward.

Payback is hell.

I’ll make it up to you.
She hadn’t meant to let that thought loose, but maybe he took it without the sexual innuendo spin.

He pressed his face in tighter, teasing her sex with his hot nose. That time, she flinched.

Jesus. The wetness inside her catsuit wasn’t just sweat anymore.

I must’ve slipped. Sorry, Mistress.
The thought came across as totally innocent, though the heat behind it was anything but.

When they reached the playrooms, Vexx released the breath she’d been holding. In desperate need of Air, she spun to face Byrn’s Fire. Aware of the growing crowd, she bent at the waist and petted his hair. “Well, Kitty, you earned yourself one lash. What have you to say for yourself?”

The dim light danced across his eager eyes like glitter in the wind. He licked his lips. “Apologies, Mistress, for letting you down. If it pleases you, after my punishment, I’d very much like to give you the tongue bath you wished for.”

She would too. “We’ll see.”

Silence in his brain.

Fine. She turned to the picture windows. The circus animal- and magic-themed playrooms were occupied by lightweight vanilla couples engaging in clumsy, yawn-worthy scenes. The darkened knife- and fire-themed rooms were vacant. Of course.

Lights switched on and illuminated the dungeon painted with sinister flames mimicking Dante’s Ninth Circle of Hell. Her Air shuddered and choked on a mini panic attack. Oh shit.

Chill out, Vexx. You can do this
, she assured herself. Deep breaths.

“What shall it be, then? Are you up for blood play on the knife-throwing stage or fire play in the inferno dungeon?” As if she had to ask.

“Whatever Mistress desires.” A seductive lilt touched his voice.

The Wyldling humans gathered closer, their Fire intensifying, tightening, suffocating her. Vexx filled her lungs and exhaled slowly. So much for maintaining control over this situation. At the mercy of Byrn and everyone else in the place, she relented.

“Fire it is.” Vexx opened the door to the right of the window and waved him through. She hoped to hell the walls were flame retardant. Not that it mattered. If so much as a lick of Fire nipped her, she could end up incapacitated for a month. Or just plain dead. For, like, ever.

She followed Byrn into the dungeon. When the door clicked shut, her thudding heart clogged her throat, cutting off her breath.

Trapped with an explosive, unpredictable Fyre Elemental she had the hots for.

Oh, Aero, she’d made a terrible mistake.

Panic built and whirled in her lungs at the sight of several red extinguishers placed strategically around the room. Fire wands, lighters, candles, glasses for cupping, flame floggers, bottles of isopropyl alcohol, flammable circus hoops, buckets of water. It was an Aer’s worst nightmare.

Shit, she had to get out of here. Now—

A pair of warm hands landed on her upper arms. Byrn stood behind her, their backs to the window.

Do you trust me, Vexx?

She swallowed hard. No more than she trusted herself, locked in here with him.
Not for a second.

You’re gonna have to, just this once.
He leaned over her shoulder, his cheek close but not touching hers. Sweat flooded the inside of her rubber suit. Two more swallows. Loss of breath. Trembling lips. She knew she wouldn’t be able to handle this. Why the hell did she agree to it?

Breathe, girl. You can’t pass out on me. We’ve got a job to do, remember?

She inclined her head, closed her eyes, and focused on finding her Air. In and out. In and out.

That’s it. Now pull yourself together. It’s show time.

She turned around and met his gaze.

I got you.
He smiled. Not his usual cocky, burn-everybody-in-sight-and-leave-behind-only-ashes smile. A genuine smile.

Wow. Hadn’t seen that coming. Her knees wobbled as fear morphed into uneasy trust. Okay. Better.

Sort of.

“Retrieve my whip from the bag, place it between your teeth like a gag, and get on the St. Andrew’s Cross.” She pointed to the seven-foot tall, X-shaped restraining contraption facing the window.

“It will be my pleasure, Mistress.” Byrn lowered his head and complied. Biting down on the whip’s leather handle, he snapped a manacle around one wrist and gripped the chain connected to the other cuff. He spread his legs to match the bottom halves of the X and relaxed against the frame.

As she took in the sight of his gorgeous body, Vexx grounded herself by focusing on the rubber teasing her skin, the sweat easing the friction, the unexpected drip of her juices like teardrops down her legs. Though the inside of the suit was hot and sweaty, the cool air outside of it lowered her temperature. Dusty baby powder absorbed her body’s natural reaction to the impending intimacy she was about to share with Byrn. She’d never played Dom, but the easy, comfortable feel of the whip in her grip and the promise of owning Byrn and his Fire—if only for a night—was empowering. Guess that made her a switch too, though who knew where she’d end up on the Master/slave continuum when play time was over.

Pushing uncertainty and fear deep inside, Vexx ripped the flint of a lighter and lit one of the candles. Her Air cowered. Mentally plotting the locations of every fire extinguisher and water pail, she used the taper to ignite twenty or so wicks around the room. She reclaimed a tiny bit of courage with each flame by focusing on the light produced rather than the heat.

By the time she finished, a crowd had gathered outside the glass. Vexx ensured the speaker function was engaged so they could hear everything. She stood in front of Byrn, between his parted legs, coated the whip hanging from his mouth with a healthy dousing of alcohol, and teased its tail just above the flame in her other hand.

Byrn, if this goes bad—

Like I said, I got you. I can suck the fire out of this entire room before it has a chance to
think
about hurting you. Trust me.

Gods, she wanted to. So freaking badly.

She popped the manacle closed around his free wrist. Her Air tried to talk some sense into him.
The guy we’re looking for isn’t here. Let’s end this, go home, and get our popsicles,
she thought at Byrn.

You’re right. He’s not here now. But Jack’s intel was pretty solid. If the dude shows up, this playroom is the first place he’s hitting, especially with all the Wyldling Fire raging on the other side of the glass. So, let’s put on a show he won’t be able to resist in case he
does
walk through the door.
Byrn flashed those white teeth.

She closed her eyes and severed Byrn’s access to her brain for a moment.
This is just work,
she told herself.
A short and sweet acting job. A little more time playing this whacked role, and you’re out of here.

Vexx dragged her mind back to the here and now, studied Byrn’s handsome face, and blew away her fears with a puff of Air.
Okay, buddy. I’m all in.

His eyebrow and the corner of his mouth lifted simultaneously.
Do your worst.

You asked for it.

She snatched the handle from his mouth, lowered the frayed tip of the whip into the flame, and stepped back. Heat reared as the leather ignited. Byrn leaned into the metal cross. The stretching tiger was ready for his meal.

Delivery time. “You know what you did wrong, don’t you, Kitty Cat?” The pluck in her voice scared her.

Muted excitement seized his face. Muscles in his jaw rippled. “I was a clumsy slave. I deserve punishment for my actions. I humbly ask your forgiveness, Mistress.”
I’m gonna set my Fire loose on you in hopes of attracting our target. Play along with me on this.

Byrn—

I told you to trust me.

His Fire snuck out and toyed with her Air. The threat of the burn produced a delicious combination of forbidden pleasure and dizzying pain. That got the cardiac muscle pumping.

She retaliated, snapping the whip hard enough against his chest to put out its flames. Or maybe Byrn had extinguished it as an apology for fucking with her. His body tensed with a twist. A long, red line welled on his ruddy skin. The muscles in his stomach clenched and released in quick succession.