Savage Chains: Scarred (Men in Chains #1.6)(30)
Author: Caris Roane

Small price to pay, Reyes.

You’re right, but you’re the one who has to pay it.

She stopped in her tracks and glanced at him. She didn’t have her head down, which she could tell made him nervous. You’re wrong about that.

He frowned. What do you mean?

I know what this is costing you.

He seemed so surprised. “Lower your gaze,” he commanded sharply.

Angelica obeyed. She’d taken a risk confronting him like that, with so many people watching them. But she wanted him to know that she understood.

Stop making me like you so damn much. You’re driving me crazy.

Angelica refrained from smiling, but her heart soared. She knew she was being ridiculous, that what she was experiencing with Reyes couldn’t possibly lead to something permanent, but she never thought she’d hear him say she was driving him crazy. It pleased her feminine soul.

He led her straight through the lobby, past the check-in desks to either side of the foyer. Two costumed vampires, both extremely tall and wearing feather-trimmed dominance gear, made the ballroom easy to find.

Music poured from the space, enlivening the foyer.

As usual, Angelica had never seen so many na**d people before, and not just women but men with erect penises. She tried to look elsewhere, but because she had to keep her head lowered certain things were hard to miss.

Once she and Reyes were inside, the main ballroom area was in a sunken space surrounded by dozens of small tables and chairs, all at different elevations. A series of at least ten steps led to a dance floor alive with couples gyrating.

So what do we do now?

We work the room and wait until Scorpion calls for us.

###

Reyes made the rounds and let any number of prominent Starlin members stare at Angelica but postured to make sure no one else touched her.

He saw Engles once, but the bastard merely nodded, his eyes cold. Reyes knew he’d destroyed a lot of goodwill in that direction, but he wouldn’t undo his actions even if he could. Engles had been determined to insinuate himself into the sex performance, and only a hard body slam like the one Reyes had delivered could have stopped Engles.

So Reyes ignored Scorpion’s right hand, especially since the invitation still stood and he’d be meeting with Scorpion for the first time. More than once, however, Reyes wondered why Scorpion was taking such an interest in him when so many other vampires, having served on the board for decades, should have had priority.

He would soon find out.

He’d just finished his second tumbler of scotch when Engles finally approached him, looking none too happy. But Reyes met him stare for stare. Reyes supposed one day he’d have to battle the ass**le for good, but not tonight.

“Scorpion is ready for you. Follow me.”

He turned on his heel and moved quickly, but he looked mad as fire. Reyes caught Angelica against his side, then levitated swiftly after him.

Engles glanced at Reyes, then switched to altered flight as well.

Reyes tracked with him, passing through solid stone.

The trip didn’t last long and Reyes’s internal signal told him they were still within the beachside resort.

The suite was empty and nicely appointed with light-blue silk drapes and matching comforter, dark wood dresser and nightstands. Off to one side, an arched, darkened doorway led to a long corridor that sloped at a downward angle.

Engles gestured toward the bed. “Your instructions are there.” With those words he shifted to altered flight and was gone.

On the bed was a box.

“What do you think this means?” Angelica asked.

“I don’t know.” Reyes drew close to the box and flipped the lid. Inside, a note rested on top of several folds of black leather as well as a flogger.

The flogger had a familiar style with a snake-head topper. Sweet Dove had owned an implement just like this one. His chest tightened. Was it a coincidence?

He unfolded the single sheet of paper and read: “Your slave must wear the costume, though you may keep on whatever you wore to the ball. Through the arched hall, you’ll find a lovely trip down memory lane waiting for you.”

A seal bearing a large S was stamped at the bottom.

Setting the paper aside, he lifted the leather costume, then glanced at Angelica. The chains vibrated against his neck as she looked at it. Her heart rate had jumped.

“You’re to wear this,” he said.

She took the jumbled leather in her hands and lifted it up. “This reminds me a little of what your friend Eve wore during her theatrical performance, only she was dressed in red.”

“You are being too familiar with me,” he said curtly, then slipped into telepathy. Remember that we might be watched.

Right. She lowered her head. “I’m sorry, master.”

As for the outfit, that would follow. The costume is essentially a dominatrix outfit.

Her brows rose. Really? Scorpion wants me to be in the dominant position?

I don’t know. I still have no idea what’s going on here.

Should I put it on?

Reyes nodded. If we’re going to move forward with this you’ll have to. Just remember, you can stop at any time.

Angelica took the costume in hand. I might need your help with this.

In other circumstances, the process of helping Angelica get into any kind of fantasy wear would probably have landed him in bed with her. As it was, despite the fact that he pulled the bustier tight and zipped her up and that her firm br**sts mounded so beautifully in the snug, too-small cups, his nerves kept him from enjoying the moment.

He had a bad feeling about this situation. Why was the flogger like the one that Sweet Dove had used on him and why was Angelica supposed to wear the dominant outfit?

The leather pants were an intricate combination of strips of leather, so that it took more than one try to get each leg through. Once the job was done and she wore the six-inch black stilettos he stood back. I won’t forget this image very soon.

“She’s like a wet dream, isn’t she?”

Reyes turned, the sound of the woman’s voice like broken glass slicing into his skin. She had frizzy red hair and deep cornflower-blue eyes, a small bow of a mouth, and cruelty emanating from every cell of her body.

Sweet Dove.

She turned in a slow circle. “How do I look, lover?”

She wore a cream silk skirt to midcalf, a sheer blouse with sleeves that ran to the wrists, ending in three-inch ruffles, and a gold metallic bra visible beneath.

Her hair was in a cloud around her head, gathered once behind with a gold clip, then flaring in more clouds and streamers down her back.