CHAPTER 26
Jannie
In the low lighting that glowed golden, Jannie surveyed the descending rows of luxurious leather chairs, alternating black and red.
The stage stretched across the entire width of the auditorium, concealed behind a black velvet curtain trimmed in crimson. Judging by the expressions on the other patrons’ faces, whatever that curtain was hiding was going to be quite something to see.
Jannie glanced around and realized, to her disappointment, that most of the seats were already taken. But Nick took her hand and swiftly started down the steps, taking her with him.
He motioned with his chin. “Our seats are in the front row.”
“Ah. Owner privilege.”
“You’d better believe it.”
The gong sounded again.
“Five … minutes,” the female voice intoned from the speakers.
They reached the front row, where, sure enough, she saw four empty seats right by the aisle and started to lower herself into one.
Nick stopped her with a slight tug on her hand. “Red one.”
“What?”
“Yours is the red one. The black one is my seat.”
“Why?”
He smirked. “You’ll know soon enough.”
She hesitated, then moved to the left and sat in the red seat. A moment later, she realized that every woman in the audience was sitting in a red chair.
Odd.
The stage curtain fluttered. Jannie smoothed her dress, running her fingertips over the delicate sequined leaves.
She now regretted refusing the champagne because her mouth was suddenly dry.
It had a lot to do with Nick’s presence beside her; something about it felt different here.
Usually a calming presence, he vibrated here with something almost unsettling.
Bondage.
What did that look like? What exactly did he do, and what else was he into?
The gong sounded again, and the lights dimmed.
Nick leaned over to murmur directly in her ear. “Here we go.”
Her heart began a wild hammering that echoed in her throat. A strange, fizzy sensation sparked in her chest and traveled to her fingertips.
The music changed to a tune she’d heard before but couldn’t quite place.
Slowly, the curtain rose, inching up to reveal some sort of …
It was a sphere. A sphere made up of clear, crisscrossing tubes, making it almost see-through. A spotlight shone on it, and it sparkled, reflecting light around it in multicolored hues.
The next moment, a man strode onto the stage, his footsteps clicking as if his heels were metal-tipped.
Jordan.
His attire reminded Jannie of a medieval knight’s.
The silver metallic knit mesh fabric of his sleeveless shirt resembled chain mail, and under the bright stage lights, it highlighted every muscle on his chest and abs.
His dark gray pants looked painted on, hugging his legs so tightly that Jannie saw a noticeable bulge as he paused just beside the sphere, which reached up to his chest.
The spotlight shone on him, and he was mesmerizing.
Jannie wanted to shift in her seat.
Except she didn’t move. Couldn’t. Every bit of her focus was on that stage and on that man, and she licked her lips as her heart seemed to take flight.
He took a step. Two. He braced his long legs apart with two metallic clicks, placed his hands on his hips, and waited, focusing intently on something to the side of the stage.
Another spotlight snapped on.
A woman.
Her head was bowed, and her glossy auburn hair hung down her back, nearly reaching her waist. She stood still, hands clasped in front of her. Barefoot and wearing a short white gauze blouse, she radiated a powerful sexual energy by simply standing there.
Never in her life had Jannie been turned on at the sight of a woman. But now …
For the longest moment, Jordan stood still, his gaze fixed on that woman, until she began trembling, and Jannie knew it wasn’t fear that made her shake.
Her shudders were barely noticeable, but they were there, and having been the recipient of Jordan’s laser stare, Jannie understood what she must have been feeling.
So much energy between the two, such a strong vibe exchanged, and yet, neither even moved. Jannie watched in fascination, feeling herself grow lightheaded, so palpable was the anticipation.
At long last, Jordan took one giant step toward the woman. Immediately, she raised her head, and their eyes met.
Pure worship.
No other way to describe the expression in the woman’s eyes.
Jannie gulped, her throat suddenly constricting at the sight. If this girl were a flower, Jordan was, without a doubt, her sun.
A tiny smile played on his lips. Slowly, he raised his arm, palm up, and beckoned with four fingers.
The woman immediately moved toward him, her steps sure and graceful, the hem of her see-through gauze shirt hitting just below her butt, swishing softly with each step as she approached the waiting Jordan.
The outline of her curves and high, round breasts was clearly visible through the sheer fabric, and Jannie wondered if she was nude underneath.
Nick leaned toward her, his face close to her neck, his breath warm in her ear, and his voice uncharacteristically gravelly as he asked, “Are you OK?”
A violent shudder coursed through Jannie’s body. Whether it was the spectacle onstage or Nick suddenly in her space, power and heat radiating from him, she didn’t know.
What to answer? She licked her lips.
He didn’t retreat but stayed there and nuzzled the sensitive spot just below her earlobe.
Heat surged, pulsing deep inside her.
“Look at me,” he murmured.
I shouldn’t.
But she was helpless to stop herself. She turned her head.
Oh, the way he looked at her. She felt laid bare, penetrated without so much as the touch of one fingertip, her entire body humming with something she had never felt before.
He held her gaze a moment longer, his eyes a deep, dark fire, burning so hotly that she had to fight the urge to fist his hair and kiss him until she owned his very breath.
He seemed to know, because something flared in his dark gaze, and he nodded, then moved away and turned his attention back to the stage, a smile touching his lips.
Immediately, she missed his closeness. Needed it. She reached out, finding his hand, tracing her fingertips over his knuckles. He turned his palm up, intertwining his fingers with hers.
Onstage, Jordan was entirely focused on his lady, as if the audience didn’t exist. Not a single glance or acknowledgment to the hundred or so people watching in quiet fascination.
Smiling and never breaking eye contact, Jordan asked the girl something, and she nodded, still gazing up at him as if he owned the sky and was preparing to gift her every star.
She moved to stand in front of the sphere, and he gripped her waist, lifting her with effortless ease to drape her across the surface, her back arched beautifully, legs wide apart as she settled her feet on two barely visible footrests.
A hush fell on the crowd.
No one dared to move, it seemed, as he gripped her chin, leaning in to look into her eyes. The lights shone through the sphere, illuminating her entire body in that sheer dress, her breasts rising and falling.
Jannie was sure Jordan would kiss her. But he didn’t.
Instead, he reached for something at his hip, drawing out a wicked-looking knife, the polished steel gleaming dangerously in the spotlight. He turned it in his hand, and Jannie noted its sparkling jeweled handle. Garnets, she thought; they gleamed blood-red.
Slowly, slowly, he brought it to the base of her throat, then lifted her chin with the tip.
Jannie’s eyes widened. Her fingers spasmed over Nick’s hand, and he squeezed back reassuringly.
Jordan trailed the tip of the blade downward, caressing the woman’s throat, pausing to touch her with the flat of the blade where the life pulsed at the side of her neck.
With the curved tip, he parted the neck of her gauze shirt, toying with the thin string tied in a bow that held the ends together.
And then, with a quick flick of his wrist, he snapped the bow in two.
An audible inhale from the audience.
Jordan strutted to the other side, undoubtedly for the viewing pleasure of those with an obstructed view. A few more sure, swift cuts and the delicate blouse split in half, the fabric fluttering, parting to reveal her curvy form.
She wasn’t naked.
Jannie stared. The bra and panty set, if you could call it that, was made up entirely of strings of white pearls.
Gold O-rings connected the strands, three that fanned over each breast, three on each hip, and one string nestling perfectly in the line at her crotch.
Strings of nearly invisible gold chain held everything together.
Jordan leaned over her, bending low over her left breast to catch a strand of pearls between his teeth. He tugged, causing them to tighten and squeeze, drawing a whimper from her lips, clearly audible from where Jannie sat.
Jordan sheathed his knife, and Jannie felt electricity course through her as he began a slow, deliberate caress of the woman’s parted thighs, then downward, all the way to her ankles, where he paused to draw circles with his fingertips.
He reached into his pocket and withdrew something, holding it in his fist, looking up again to catch her gaze, a question in his eyes.
She nodded. He opened his fist, revealing a long handful of pearls, which he let unravel to show loops on the ends.
He slipped one loop over each foot.
Cuffs. He was cuffing her with pearls.
The ache between Jannie’s legs increased to the edge of uncomfortable.
She fought the insane urge to drag Nick’s hand there.
The pearl strand stretched between the woman’s feet, dipping only a bit, its luster catching the light as did Jordan’s silver mesh, his defined muscles visible beneath it as he worked.
Something else was clearly visible too, and Jannie tried, and failed, not to look at the massive erection now straining against the fabric of his tight gray pants.