Yes, it was a team effort. Not that I needed help getting into my clothes, what there was of them, but I definitely needed help with the makeup. I tried not to laugh hysterically while Dominic covered my all-too-recognizable tattoo with that thick, pore-clogging pancake makeup.
Adam sent me back to the bathroom three times to put on more eyeliner and lipstick, until I looked like a biker slut in clown makeup. Then Dominic took his turn in that bathroom. I hadn’t seen what his costume looked like yet, but I figured it couldn’t possibly be as hideous as mine.
Adam gave me a definite once-over when Dom disappeared into the bathroom. His grin was lascivious in the extreme and made me want to lace the bustier tighter. But I’d already laced it as tight as it would go if I still wanted to breathe. There was at least a one-inch gap between my breasts, and the tight lacing meant lots of cleavage.
Adam licked his lips. “Such a shame you insisted on buying panties,” he said. “It would have been so much fun imagining you in that outfit without them.”
I gaped at him. The look in his eyes was pure lust, and unless he’d shoved a cucumber down the front of his pants while I wasn’t looking, it was genuine.
I cast a furious look at the bathroom door, but Adam just laughed.
“Don’t worry, love. While I can’t help admiring the view, this,” he said as he ran his hand down the bulge, “is all for Dom.”
My face flamed, amusing him even more. I wondered if maybe I should try to revive the awkwardness of this morning. I think I liked it better than when he felt comfortable with me.
At that moment, the bathroom door opened.
Dominic wasn’t as tricked out as me, but he definitely didn’t look himself. He’d slicked back his unruly hair with something that gave it a greasy shine, and he’d changed into a black mesh T-shirt and obscenely tight black leather pants. He also wore cuffs and collar, similar to mine.
“ What’s all for me?” he asked, eyebrows raised, but he must have picked up on the particular flavor of tension in the room because his eyes zeroed in on Adam’s groin. I didn’t think the color that rose to his cheeks was entirely embarrassment. “Oh,” he mumbled.
His pants were easily tight enough to show he appreciated Adam’s appreciation. I wanted out of the room more than I could say.
“Morgan,” Adam said, and there was a hint of sharpness to his voice that made me look up. “You’re going to have to at least pretend you’re comfortable with us. The Seven Deadlies is not the place for prudishness, especially not when you’re supposed to be our third.”
God, please kill me now.
I’d been mentally shielding myself all day, trying not to think about this wonderful plan of ours. But I couldn’t do it forever.
As plans go, it wasn’t much. Not knowing how many people-and demons-were guarding Brian, and not knowing what condition he would be in, there wasn’t a whole lot of advance planning we could do. All we knew for sure was that we had to find our way into that basement. Considering what went on down there, there was only one way to manage it.
My acting skills are lousy, and if I actually had to participate in any S&M sex games, I’d never be able to do it. So Adam had come up with a story for me. I was Adam’s new human plaything-in-training because Dominic without his demon just wasn’t satisfying enough. But I was being punished, so for tonight, I would be allowed to observe, but not participate.
“If it makes you feel any better,” Dominic said with a nervous smile, “I’m not what you’d call comfortable with this, either. Saul had no qualms about performing in public. I do.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling vaguely ashamed of myself for not thinking about that. I’d seen evidence before that Dominic wasn’t an exhibitionist. “I’m really sorry-”
“It’ll be okay,” Adam interrupted, closing the distance between himself and Dominic and putting both hands on his lover’s shoulders. “I’ll make you comfortable.” His hands slid up Dominic’s neck until they cupped his face and pulled his head down for a kiss.
My first instinct was to look away, but I fought it. They’d warned me what I might see at the club once we got into the basement, and if I couldn’t handle watching a couple of guys kiss, I was in deep shit.
It didn’t take long for Dom to get over his bashfulness. He abandoned himself to that kiss like there was no one else in the room, pressing his body tight against Adam’s and making contented sounds in the back of his throat.
When Adam’s hands slid down Dom’s back until they cupped his ass, I honestly wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. A part of me certainly wanted to look away, but I couldn’t deny that another part-perhaps even a larger part-was wildly turned on by the sight. They were just so damn sexy, both of them. My inner slut would have loved to slip in between them right now, absorb the incredible sexual energy they exuded. I wanted to slide my hands over Dominic’s ass, just like Adam did, and feel Adam’s impressive erection digging into my belly. Or maybe even other places…
I shook my head to clear it, and the lust level lowered enough to let me tear my eyes away. However, my pulse still hammered in my throat, and I doubted I would ever get those images out of my brain.
I cleared my throat loudly. “Okay, boys, I got the point. Now could we just get on with it?”
They both laughed.
“I’d love to get on with it,” Adam said suggestively.
Like a fool, I let my gaze slide over to them again, only to see that Adam’s hand had moved. Now it wasn’t Dom’s ass he was stroking. Dom’s eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open, his head thrown back in pleasure. As far as I could tell, he’d forgotten I was in the room. Or he just didn’t care anymore.
I mustered my mental forces. “Look, the man I love may be getting tortured right this moment. Do you think you could forego the incredible pleasure of making me uncomfortable so we can rescue him?”
Adam sighed dramatically but let his hand fall away. Dominic opened his eyes and visibly swallowed a protest.
“All right,” Adam said. “You have a point.” He gave Dominic’s hand a quick squeeze, then stepped away to put on his shoulder holster. Unlike Dominic and me, he wasn’t wearing a costume. Since he was required to carry his sidearm at all times, he said he’d always found it easier just to dress like a normal person and wear a jacket to hide the weapon when he went to The Seven Deadlies.
I thanked God for small mercies. Adam was dangerously sexy in his street clothes. I’d hate to see what he’d look like in some kind of bad-boy costume.
Just before we ventured out of the room, Dominic handed me a cell phone.
“Here,” he said. “In case we get separated.”
“We won’t!” Adam said, and it was clearly an order.
“We won’t,” I agreed. But I took the cell phone anyway, sticking it into a convenient pocket at the top of one thigh-high boot, and Adam didn’t object.
We arrived at the club shortly after midnight. The nearest parking was two blocks away. I felt like everyone on the street was staring at me as we walked those endless two blocks. It was all in my mind, of course-I probably didn’t look all that outlandish in a South Street — after—midnight context.
I practiced taking slow, deep breaths, and reminded myself that Brian’s life might well depend on me keeping calm and collected.
From the outside, The Seven Deadlies didn’t look like anything special. The neon sign above its doorway was actually rather understated, and the facade was for the most part unadorned. I guess I’d expected the place to scream out its nature from miles away, though Adam and Dominic had reminded me repeatedly that it was both more and less than an S&M club.
At a ticket booth right inside the front door, Adam and Dominic showed their membership cards and claimed me as a guest. Adam generously paid my admission, and a relatively demure-looking young woman stamped the backs of our hands.
There was a good-sized crowd waiting to get into the depths of the club, and we had to wait in line to go through the doorway. I took the time to look around me and was surprised by what I saw. There were a number of other people dressed, shall we say, exotically, but there were also a large number of relatively normal-looking folks. The age varied from just barely legal to forties, maybe even fifties, with a high concentration of twenty- somethings. I’d estimate about half the crowd was drop-dead gorgeous, and I wondered how many of them were demons. I decided I didn’t want to know.