Chapter 12
Chapter
Twelve
It would be nice to say I ended up in an infirmary in the care of a plump nurse wiping my brow with a cool cloth while clicking her tongue in sympathy at my plight. Instead, Zed hauls me out of my savior’s arms and half drags me toward a small, grassy embankment.
My legs feel rubbery, and I lean into him as he slowly spins me around, lowering me to the ground. “I want to go to bed,” I mumble, flopping onto my back. I don’t even care that I’m naked.
He chuckles. “The night has just begun.”
I make a face and groan.
Zed jogs off, coming back moments later with a drink. I sit up and glare at him when he prods me with his foot, snatching the glass out of his hand and sloshing water across my boobs. My nipples immediately pebble. It’s ice cold. He smirks when I fix my eyes on him and down the whole glass, streams of water spilling from the sides of my mouth, where they eventually dribble down my chin and neck before making their way across my nipples that are still standing at attention.
I hold out the empty glass, chin jutting, and fold my arms like a spoiled child when he takes it and motions for me to rise.
I shake my head and say, “Don’t you think I should be checked out by a doctor or something? You’ve got to have an infirmary around here.”
“I think your head should be examined for making a spectacle of yourself before Madame Solara.”
“She’s got better things to do than watch me,” I snap, frowning when I see the proverbial mayor of Smutville staring at me from her throne.
Zed clears his throat and darts his eyes to the Masters and Mavens, who’ve stopped to stare. There’s an air of expectation in their blatant gawking, and I wonder if my petulance is a wise decision when the woman who tried to cop a feel nudges her way to the front of the crowd and flashes a wicked smile. Reason mumbles, oh, shit , as Damn-The-Consequences barrels her way into my brain.
My squire sees my face shift and moves to step in front of me, but he’s too late. Damn-The-Consequences takes control of my higher faculties, and there’s no stopping her. I heave myself off the ground, boobs swinging heavily as I stride toward the smirking brunette like a fluffy Amazon with a Juggernaut complex. Stopping a foot away, I rake my eyes over her gauzy outfit and strike a haughty pose that’s completely ruined by the fact that I’m naked, but my alter-ego is in charge and used up her last fuck ten seconds ago. “If you’re looking for fashion tips, honey, just ask. Staring is rude. ”
The brunette’s eyes go wide before her mouth curves into a mischievous smile that pokes the Damn-The-Consequences bear like a hot brand, and I let fly. “I hope you’re enjoying the show. Next time, bring a lawn chair and a tub of popcorn so I can shove a handful down your throat and watch you choke on it.”
Zed mutters and grabs my arm. I shove him away. “Fuck off. I’m just getting started, and we don’t want to rob our audience of the show.”
“Eden,” he says in a warning tone.
“What?” I snap, unable to look away from the brunette, now whispering to an annoyingly handsome man at her side.
“I don’t need your consent to hobble you.”
I tear my gaze away from the crowd and stare at Zed. “Excuse me?”
“When you signed your contract, you agreed to certain provisos.”
“Are you seriously legalese-ing me right now?” I feel Damn-The-Consequences wavering as Reason seeks to rein me back in. But I’m on a runaway train in an Indiana Jones movie. The track is about to run out, and my stubborn ass refuses to slow this wreck down. “Whatever. Try it, and I’ll sit on you.”
The brunette guffaws and claps her hands. I sneer at her, about to loose another snarky arrow, when Zed swings his leg out, knocking me off balance. I squawk in outrage, arms flying like a lunatic chicken. In a blur of movement, he catches me by my elbows before my face hits the dirt and wrenches my arms back, clamping silken cuffs attached to a metal rod just above each elbow. My knees buckle, and my mouth drops open with shock. Where he unearthed the other set of cuffs is beyond me, but in moments, I find myself kneeling on the ground, legs spread open by another metal bar complete with satin-lined cuffs that cinch around my legs just above each knee. With my arms pinned, my breasts jut like two jiggly balloons.
The crowd claps, many coming forward and slipping tokens into Zed’s waiting hands. I want to say something, to yell and curse, but Damn-The-Consequences is good and gone, and Reason has produced a muzzle, trapping my ravings behind my clenched teeth.
Zed stands at my side, a placid expression stamped on his face. I huff and look away, eyes sweeping the crowd and unerringly finding my savior and the future main attraction of my late-night fantasies. He hovers a head taller than everyone and stands just beyond the throng. His dark gaze dances with humor, and my face flames. Dipping his chin, he turns away, leaving me to the swarm of hungry eyes and hedonistic appetites.
So this is what it feels like to be a slab of Wagyu beef at a meat-lovers convention. I resist the urge to duck my head and meet their stares. Fuck ‘em. Maybe I’m the cut of steak that sat in the sun too long, and they’re all gonna shit their guts out when they take a bite.
A girl can dream.