Bind (Manhattan Lux Book 1): Manhattan Lux (8 page)

“Oh yeah,” the DJ said, shifting his headphones to his neck. “Just wait till the sex show starts. Best seats in the house man. Prime viewing.”

“Sex show?” Wyatt asked. “I thought it was just a demonstration? But with ropes?”

“Hell no man. Naked chicks getting tied up and swinging from the ceiling? That’s a sex show, as far as I know.” The guy laughed, gold-capped tooth flashing, and slapped Wyatt on the arm. “You’re gonna enjoy the hell out of it buddy. Sexy as fuck.”

Wyatt frowned. Demonstration his ass. Jinx had made it sound sterile, benign, like a presentation given at a senior citizen home.

The music surged and pulsed, and spotlights wove through the crowds. Wyatt watched as his security team pushed back the throngs and set up barriers on the center of the dance floor, carving out a long rectangle of empty floor for what would soon be the performance space.

“Yeaahhhh, man!” The DJ bounced his head and fiddled with dials as the music changed, slowed to something that sounded like Cirque du Soleil, if they ever made a porno.

Dammit. He wasn’t prepared for this, didn’t want to see Jinx naked for the first time in a room full of people. Privacy, that’s what he needed, lots of privacy. And maybe a sock, and some hand lotion.

“Whooo, here comes the pool. They always go wild when they see the pool!” The DJ glanced at Wyatt and grinned.

A panel in the dance floor began to open, revealing several thousand gallons of water, backlit by immersed multicolored LCDs.

Wyatt knew about the pool. It was one of the ridiculous security risks that had made the “what the fuck were you thinking?” list he planned on giving Jack tomorrow.

The crowd parted on one side of the barrier, and four bare chested men in tight leather pants strode forth, then progressed around the perimeter of the pool, each of them carrying a coil of black rope.

Two long swathes of shimmering fabric snaked down from the ceiling as the music swelled, their ends dangling in the pool water. Hundreds of heads tipped up, straining for a better look, and Wyatt followed suit. Although from his vantage point he had a much better view than the people on the ground. A dark haired beauty slid down one panel of fabric, weaving it around her legs with all the grace of a dancer.

Wyatt arched a brow and squinted in confusion. The woman was lovely, but she wasn’t Jinx.

“So where the fuck is she?” he muttered under his breath.

A drum beat picked up, and heads bobbed in time as the woman on the ribbon danced, soaring over the pool like a bird in flight. She was whirling around now, dancing in midair, twisting her limbs erotically around each length of silk, making her way down, closer to the audience, who was enraptured of her every move.

It was pretty, Wyatt had to give ‘em that. And sexy too. At first he thought the woman was naked, but then he spotted a seam at her hip and realized it was the costume that was nude.

She was hot, but this was not the woman he was looking for, not the one he longed to see. Wyatt shook his head and nearly slapped himself when he realized how distracted he was by this show. He was supposed to be keeping an eye out for baddies, for anybody that looked suspicious, that could be the party behind their security breach. Had he seriously just wasted precious seconds contemplating the seam on some strange woman’s underpants? Jesus.

The lighting shifted, the music grew ominous, and the crowds parted again, this time to let through what looked like some kind of industrial chariot. A shining diamond-plate carriage on four fat tires with pimped-out rims broke through the crowd and came to a stop at the barrier. Perched atop it like a desert queen in a post-industrial apocalyptic sci-fi film was Jinx. Hair billowing around her, those dangerous curves poured into shiny black Lycra that showed off every swell and cleft, she looked like the Devil’s mistress. A smoky eyed demon that ate cocks for breakfast and made you watch.

And you
liked
it.

.0005 seconds. That’s how long it took Wyatt’s cock to grow harder than a pillar of granite. A new personal record.

Jinx raised her arm and flicked something in the air. A flash of light and a loud cracking sound confirmed it was a whip. She gestured to the leather-clad men next, wild dramatic movements meant to convey something of a storyline to the audience. It looked like she was telling them to get the woman down off of the ribbons.

The men removed weird little wands from pockets and aimed them at the woman. Dots of light roamed over her body and the woman reacted to them, flinching and twisting away as if they were real weapons burning her skin, and not just laser pointers.

The spotlights scattered, tiny beams of color mimicking the laser pointers while the music amped up the tension. Combined, it was enough of a clue that Wyatt wasn’t surprised when the woman feigned a slip on the ribbons, then another, and finally fell into the pool below.

“I love that part,” the DJ shouted over at Wyatt. “It’s like Jinx is this evil villain and she’s getting her sex minions to shoot down this hot bird she wants.”

“Yeah. I figured that out.” Wyatt smirked and nodded back. “I think I’m gonna head down,” he said. “Actually do my job.”

“No!” The DJ held his hand up to stop him. “Just wait. You gotta wait. This is the best part.”

“Yeah? How’s that?”

“Naked bondage sex party time."

W
yatt left
the DJ booth anyway. Naked bondage sex party time or no, he really did need to get back to work, to focus on scanning the crowd, looking for anyone suspicious, for anyone that…what? Looked like they had hacking on the mind? This was a needle in a haystack.

As he stepped off the staircase to the first floor of the club, it was apparent that naked bondage sex party time was in full swing. The leather-clad men had fished the woman out of the pool, and the cover that hid it was once again in place. Now they wheeled a small stage out onto the floor, while Jinx stood over the dripping wet woman who knelt at her feet.

Wyatt pushed his way through the crowds, examining faces and body language as he went. No one stood out. Every last person’s attention was completely focused on the dominatrix in the center of the club.

Jinx fisted the woman’s hair and wound the wet strands around her wrist, gripping it like a handle. Urging the woman to rise, Jinx pushed her in front, steering her to the stairs at the edge of the stage and bidding her to climb.

When they reached the top, they just stood there, the two of them, facing each other. A cat and its plaything.

Jinx circled behind the woman, pulled her head to the side and lowered her lips to the woman’s neck. Then she licked, collarbone to jawbone and Wyatt shivered at the same time the woman did, as though that tongue licking had been meant for him. Jinx’s free hand slid down to the woman’s hip, and glided up her body, caressing the curve of her waist, over her stomach and finally her breasts.

Wyatt swallowed. Oh boy. This was problematic.

The woman’s nude bra top was sheer now from the water, and her nipples stood hard and erect. Jinx’s fingers teased over the woman’s breasts, plucking at her nipples, rolling them between her fingers, until the woman’s lips parted, and her cheeks flushed.

Wyatt stood transfixed. This was
not
happening.

His cock very much disagreed.

Jinx slipped one hand under the woman’s bra top and cupped a breast, those slim delicate fingers digging into the woman’s pale flesh so hard it dimpled.

Wyatt’s cock twitched hard against the fly of his jeans.

Jinx ripped the woman’s top off in one swift movement, then pulled her arms firmly behind her back and held her still. Then she snapped her fingers at a leather-clad man, beckoning them to bring her rope.

The crowd cheered, and Wyatt knew that he had to get the fuck out of here. Right
the fuck
now.

He turned away from the stage and wove his way towards the fringes. Focus. He had to focus.

Work. Do your job. Find the breach.

He made good time to the back corridors of the club. Racing down the hallways to the security room, and its bank of monitors that let them keep all eyes on every corner of the club.

Aiko was already there, her feet up on a desk, a laptop on her knees. She was watching the monitors and the jumbo TV that dominated one wall of the room.

Shit. He couldn’t escape it, couldn’t escape
her
.

Jinx was on every screen. Six feet high on the biggest one. Every sweet inch of her body, from every angle. A creeper’s wet dream.

“Fuck.” Wyatt groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “Why is every camera showing your sister?” he demanded. “Pull up some other angles please Aiko.”

“But I want to watch the show!”

Wyatt crossed to a monitor and began mashing buttons, changing the angles to something, anything other than Jinx.

“Hey!” Aiko protested. “This part’s not long, and I like to watch her work. She’s an artist, you Neanderthal.”

“Yeah, yeah. Your sister already called me that.”

Aiko slapped at his hands, and Wyatt stopped moving. It wasn’t the slapping that stopped him, it was the image on the large screen. The woman was bound, head to toe, a diamond pattern of ropes lacing over her like a net.

“That’s a karada,” Aiko said, pointing at the screen. “It’s like a rope harness, a foundation for suspension bondage, which is what they’re doing tonight.”

“Wow.” Wyatt shook his head. “It’s beautiful.”

“Now she’ll do a
Ushiro Takatekote
. That’s a box-tie where you bind the arms behind the back and then the breasts.” Aiko spoke and Wyatt saw Jinx’s hands doing exactly as she described, tightening ropes across the woman’s chest above and below her breasts until they plumped under the pressure, pink and jutting lewdly from her body.

Wyatt felt Aiko’s eyes on him, and he pulled his gaze away, turning back to the bank of monitors.

“You’re not even looking at that girl’s tits are you?” she asked. “You’re lusting after my sister so bad you’ve got a hard on for her technique.”

“I got a taste of her technique this afternoon,” he said, nodding.

“And?”

“And that was a memorable experience. Although…”

“What?”

“Wouldn’t mind turning the tables. If I knew—”

“They didn’t teach you knots in the Navy?”

“Hey, I can tie you a bowline, under water, on a single breath hold. But that…” Wyatt stole another look at the TV, where Jinx was drawing a rope up between the woman’s legs and twisting it around another at the front of the harness. “They don’t teach that in training.”

“Well,” Aiko said, turning back to her laptop. “If she lets you tie her up, buy a lottery ticket or something.”

Wyatt raised an eyebrow.

“Trust issues,” Aiko said, bobbing her head solemnly.

“Ah, well.” Wyatt winked. “I’ll just have to earn her trust then…oh my God, she’s trying to kill me.”

On the TV, Jinx was rubbing her cleavage all over the woman’s breasts. A leather-clad man handed her something, and she held it up for the crowd. Even back here, in the bowels of the building, he could hear them cheering. Two clamps, connected by a chain.

Wyatt held his breath and watched, Jinx’s movements controlled and graceful as they cradled the woman’s breast in her palm, clamped the end of the chain to the first nipple and then the second, and then paused to give the chain a little tug. He felt that tug deep in his groin. A pull on his cock that shot straight up his spine so fast he had to swallow hard and remind himself to breathe.
Just breathe.

“Nipple clamps,” Aiko said, staring at him. “Gets ‘em every time. She likes those, so if she doesn’t let you tie her up, you can try that. Don’t tell her I told you, of course, or she’ll—”

A sound like a klaxon from hell rang out from Aiko’s laptop, and startled her feet off the desk.

“Oh my God! Oh my God! Yes! We’ve got one on the hook, boss, check it out!” Aiko put the laptop on the desk and angled it toward Wyatt. The screen was split in two. On one side, a batch of code scrolled across the screen like credits from The Matrix. On the other side was a map of the club, where a glowing red dot was blinking down a hallway about a hundred feet away.

“Finally! Fantastic, okay let’s see—” Wyatt’s mobile phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling it out, he looked at the screen and then at Aiko. “I’m right here, why are you texting me?”

“Click the link, download the app, and you’ll be able to track the little red dot inside the club in real time within a quarter of an inch.”

“Seriously?”

“What?” Aiko shrugged. “It comes with our security system. It’s detecting a signal coming off Daisy, that she’s using to get in through the WiFi. Nevermind, you wouldn’t understand the tech. Just trust me, it works. All the guys on the team already have it. I was gonna hook you up earlier, but you were too busy trying to boink my sister.”

“I was not too—” Wyatt said as the app appeared on his screen, red dot flashing. “Wait…” He looked at Aiko. “All the guys have it?”

“Yeah why?”

Wyatt was on the radio before Aiko could ask him anything else. “Stand down,” he said. “I repeat, stand down. I do not want anyone apprehending the un-sub. If you can get eyes-on, without being made, that’s fine. But do not approach or engage.”

He clipped the radio back to his belt and glanced at Aiko. Her head was tilted to the side like she was studying him.

“What?” Wyatt asked.

“That was sexy. I can see why she has the hots for you. Maybe I’ll have to find myself a Navy SEAL of my own.”

“Former. And get back to work.” Wyatt pointed at her laptop.

“What’s an un-sub?” she asked.

“Unknown subject. Don’t you watch Criminal Minds or Law and Order or anything?”

“Nah, I mostly watch gamers on Youtube and Doctor Who reruns.”

Wyatt shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Get that hallway up on the monitors please Aiko,” he said, stifling a laugh.

They looked exactly alike, these sisters, and yet he wasn’t attracted to this one in the slightest. Nope, she’d been like a little sister from the moment he met her - nosey, annoying and occasionally sweet. Right now, she was wearing on his nerves.

“Got it,” Aiko said, pointing at the monitors. “That’s the un-sub, blonde girl, headed for an exit. Oh shit—”

“Oh shit is right,” said Wyatt. “That’s Daisy.”

He flew down the hallway, felt his knee complain at the exertion and shut out the pain, his focus on getting to Daisy before she could get out that door.

What the fuck was she thinking? Stupid girl had made a mess of her life and almost made a mess of Bryce’s in the process. Wyatt pushed past a mass of people and nearly toppled a red-haired man in a black suit with a green pocket square. Caught him before he fell over, apologized, and moved on, around the corner, down another hall. Had Jack built this place like a labyrinth on purpose?

He was too late. He saw the little red dot disappear from his mobile screen at the same time that the door clicked shut, just as he rounded the final corner. He wouldn’t chase her outside. Knowing Daisy, she’d cling to the first passerby and cry foul, cause a scene, and slip away while he was dealing with the fallout. No, if he had any chance of talking some sense into her, it would have to be just the two of them, alone.

Wyatt walked back down the hallway at a leisurely pace, giving his knee a little time to stop shouting. The same man popped up in his periphery as he walked back through the club. Red hair, black suit, green pocket square. Funny the details his SEAL mind logged without him even having to think about it. The redhead dropped back, stepped behind another patron, popped up on his other side, and retreated again. Wyatt grabbed the radio from his belt and spoke into it.

“Danny?” Maybe he was paranoid, but he had that feeling, the little itch between his shoulder blades that let him know something was off. Another set of eyes couldn’t hurt. “I feel like somebody’s dogging me. Can you confirm?”

“Will do,” the response buzzed back. A few seconds went by, Wyatt continued to walk, strolling around the perimeter of the club, watching as some patrons started waving their goodbyes and the leather-clad men cleared away the temporary stage. He’d missed the rest of the show. Naked bondage sex party. Well, he’d just have to get Jinx to demonstrate for him…privately.

“On your six,” Danny said. “Red-hair, dark suit with a green handkerchief.”

“Thanks, man. I thought so.”

“Two blues with him Wyatt. On the job or retired, but definitely for sale and definitely need a Snickers or something. They look grumpy.”

Wyatt laughed. “Keep an eye on them for me? I’m going to see if Aiko got anything on the trace.”

* * *

“
S
o Wyatt seemed
to really enjoy your sex show tonight.”

“Demonstration.” Jinx frowned at her sister as she loped into her office and crashed on the couch, one arm over her eyes to block out the light. “It’s a Japanese bondage demonstration. Not a sex show.”

“No,
your
part of the performance is just a ‘demonstration’.” Aiko held up her fingers and did little air quotes. “But Jane’s a straight up sex Goddess and burlesque performer extraordinaire, so anything she touches turns right into a sex show. Whether you like it or not.”

“I’m a professional.”

“Yeah? Then why’d you rub your titties all over hers tonight? Never seen you do that before.”

Jinx lifted her arm off her eyes and let it fall to her side. Her sister was eyeing her from behind her own desk, and that was annoying, but not nearly as annoying as how well she knew her, how clearly she knew when Jinx was full of shit.

“I did that to fuck with Wyatt,” she admitted. “He’s messing with me, and so I messed with him right back.”

No point denying the truth. She and Jane had done this show a dozen times. Jane was a friend, and since neither of them were sexually attracted to the other, they’d always managed to pull off a hell of a show, but one that was built around technique and performance, rather than real sexual tension.

But tonight, everything was different. Wyatt had been on her mind. The knowledge that he was in the club, watching her—it was such a turn on. There, on the stage, after she’d pushed her friend up the stairs and licked her neck, well Jane must’ve sensed the difference in her, must’ve realized that tonight’s show was a little special. She’d whispered to her, when their heads were close together, when the music was so loud that no one could possibly hear: