The Gate (Dark Path Series) (26 page)

She swallowed. “Uh, I don’t know. All those people watching—”

Catherine moved out of the booth, plopping down next to Erika. Taking both her hands, she squeezed them, her entire face lighting up. “Hear me out. I can make sure the boys don’t go too far with the act and—”

“The boys?” Her voice came out at a higher pitch than normal.

Catherine glanced around, frowning when the two people sitting at the table next to them seemed to have overheard. They turned away, talking in low whispers.

“It might be best if I take you to The Gate to show you what I mean.” She moved in close. “We can talk as much as we want there, and I can explain to you what to expect tonight. If you say no, then fine. Either way, you’ll be able to see Max before you go, and maybe you two can talk, clear the air without going to such lengths to get his attention.”

She’d always played it safe because she had buffers to protect her. But when Max came into her life, they all faded away. This was the time to prove, not just to herself but to the world, she wasn’t limited. That she could stand on her own, no matter how daunting it might be.

“All right let’s go.”

Grinning, Catherine jumped up. “Just wait until you see what I have in store for you. The boys arrive around four to get some practice in. I’ll introduce you to them, and you can check them out.” Her eyes glossed over. “They’re quite beautiful.”

“Before you tell me more, I’m going to grab a latte. I have a feeling I’ll need it.”

She nodded. “Better make it a large. We can pick up some breakfast on the way there.”

Erika grabbed her things and gave her order, adding an extra shot of espresso. Instead of grabbing a taxi or taking the subway, a town car waited for them out front.

Catherine crossed her arms and scowled. “I guess I didn’t tire him out like I thought. I’ll have to work harder next time.”

She sipped her coffee.
Why is she upset at her lover’s thoughtfulness?

The driver opened the passenger door and announced he was at Catherine’s disposal for the entire day. She grudgingly thanked the man and pulled Erika into the car with her.

Her heart accelerated and her stomach somersaulted. Whatever the woman had in store for her, it would no doubt shock as well as tantalize. She couldn’t wait.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Max ended the phone call. Instead of his personal cell or his office phone, he used a throw away cell to make his plans. With his jet fueled, he was ready to leave whenever he decided. He also chose the two most trustworthy members of his security team to grab Erika and whisk her to the airport. Enough was enough. He was sick of waiting. After Roger Walsh’s funeral, he would have her snatched and taken to his vacation home in St. Thomas in order to hash out their problems. He would prove to her he wasn’t the cruel bastard she might think him to be.

But thanks to Milton, she might already believe that. He dug his fingers into the back of his neck, wishing he could throttle the dickhead. Every day he and Erika were separated, Christopher was one step closer in snaring her. The asshole had come first in her life, and she was fond of him—
too fond
—which allowed him to easily seduce her.

“What’s with the pouting?” Catherine walked in, her hands in the back pockets of her jeans.

“I don’t pout,” he snapped. “And why aren’t you dressed for the show?”

“I was heading up to my suite to get ready. It’s going to be amazing. I’ve outdone myself.”

“I’m not up for it. I may hang in here until—”

“No!” She rushed to him. “Enough with the pouty brooding or whatever it is you’ve been doing for the past few days.” She rested her palm on his cheek. “Erika needs time to reevaluate things.”

“I can’t wait any longer. Right now she could be with—” He grimaced and chewed his thumbnail.

She snatched his finger away. “Give her some credit. She’ll come around. Are you worried her friends are going to stop her from seeing you?”

“Yes.”
One in particular.

“Are they aware of your plans to take down Walsh Publications? Are you still going forward with that?”

“I’m undecided. In light of Walsh’s death, I might wait to see how things are in the next year.”
By then I’ll have Erika with me again and have moved forward with phase two of my plan.

“I think it’s for the best.” Catherine patted his arm, rose up onto her toes, and gave him a light kiss on his mouth. “Tonight is going to be my last hurrah for awhile. Tomorrow I leave with Raymond for places unknown.”

He caught the slight tremor in her voice, and wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her tightly. “You’ll be okay. Just do whatever Raymond wants. It’ll all work out.”

A watery laugh erupted from her. She wiped under her eyes where they glistened with dampness. “I’m going to miss you.”

“We’ll see each other again. You can count on it.” Cupping her face, he kissed her forehead.

“I better get ready. The doors open in less than an hour.” She pulled away.

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, he stared at her face, memorizing her every nuance. She didn’t meet his eyes, and he wondered what else she was hiding. Before he could inquire, her cell pinged with a text message. A smile broke through her agitated state.

“Your usual table will be waiting for you.” With a wave, she skipped out of the room.

Sitting in his chair, he opened his desk drawer, took out his bottle of tequila, and drank straight from it. Tonight, he would lose himself among the needy souls who entered his domain, but his yearning for Erika would remain.

***

Catherine struggled, but Bryan was too strong. Shoving her against the wall, he kissed her.
How could I be so stupid? Why didn’t I take the elevator instead of the stairs?

If she’d been more aware of her surroundings instead of shooting off a text message to Erika, she wouldn’t have been grabbed around the waist and dragged into the stairwell by him.

She tasted his frustration and lust, his tongue skirmishing with hers, his teeth nipping. Her body responded, dampening between her thighs, aroused even as she tried breaking free.

This was a new side of him. Did he know after tonight she might never see him again?

“Bryan, stop right now,” she ordered, although her voice was too shaky and breathless to halt him.

He ignored her, choosing to increase the pressure of the kiss, his hand slipping between her legs to cup her.

Her hips thrust upward. Cursing, she gave his bottom lip a sharp bite. At last, he backed off.

“What the hell are you doing? I gave you what you wanted, and you promised you’d leave me alone.”

“I didn’t promise anything.”

He ground his palm over her mound. She gasped, her eyes fluttering closed. He circled his thumb over her swelling clit, making her tremble.

“It was just a fuck between us,” she moaned. “A dirty, nasty fuck. Nothing more.” Twisting her fingers in his shirt, she hopped up onto her toes as the pressure increased in her pussy.

“And what was that after you took me up to your suite, tied me to the bed and rode me until dawn? That wasn’t just nasty fucking. That was us, making love.”

“No! You’re deluded to think it’s—”

His mouth crashed down on hers. She whimpered, digging her nails into his chest while his lips roamed over her in domination. He was a hell of a kisser.

Unzipping her jeans, he stuck his hand inside to cup her bare mound. “You shaved for me?” He swiped his finger across a moist fold.

It wasn’t for you!
She wanted to tell him nothing more would go on between them. She was already on shaky ground with Raymond. If he found out she was in the stairwell with Bryan, he would make her suffer.

When he pulled out his dick, she gasped. A silver hoop pierced the head. The tip shined with his discharge.

“What did you do?” she moaned, remembering when he said he would pierce his cock when he met
the one
.

“It’s for you. For us.” He thrust forward, his cock pressing near her entrance.

“How can you be so stupid?” Tears filled her eyes. “It means nothing!”

“You mean everything to me. Cathy, I lo—”

She slapped her palm over his mouth. Only two men had ever told her they loved her. If he said those special words, she would fall apart.

He didn’t bat her hand away. Eyes twinkling, he lapped her palm, but she didn’t remove her hand. Never taking his gaze from hers, he wrapped her leg around his hip and, holding his dick, slid inside her.

She wailed—at least to her ears it sounded like one. His cock ring nuzzled her G-spot, sending ripples of pleasure throughout her entire body. She’d never fucked a man with a cock ring before, and she was beyond sensitive to the new sensations it created.

Bryan swiveled his hips, going deeper. Latching onto his arms, she jerked her pelvis up, her eyes rolling back in her head. He reached under her ass to keep her standing. She moved her hand from his mouth, and when he dipped his head, she kissed him, whispering his name. He whispered her name back, causing the earth to move for her.

He didn’t say anything more about love as she let him pummel her. She rode the wave, wanting one more night in his arms. She would give him that and then leave him without any word or reason, at last breaking him.

A piece of her soul would be destroyed in the process.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

When Catherine didn’t text her back right away, Erika remained calm. Another thirty minutes passed then the dark-haired, mistress of ceremonies texted, saying an emergency had come up and she wouldn’t be there during the show. Erika started hyperventilating. She took so many hits from her inhaler she became woozy. It also didn’t help that Rosco, the head choreographer in charge, kept her well hydrated with orange juice. The juice ended up having a kick with vodka Catherine had okayed. She was supposed to stick to two glasses, but ended up drinking two more when she saw what Rosco and the “boys” were wearing—and what was sticking out of their asses.

She’d never heard of ponyboys until Catherine showed her a website with various BDSM terms and pictures. At first, she didn’t believe what she saw. But after reading the page and seeing all the pictures, she realized it was a real thing.

The six men she’d been introduced to had changed from their jeans and T-shirts into golden, assless Lycra shorts with matching high heel boots. They were oiled from head to toe. To complete their attire, an anal plug with a horse’s tail attached was wedged in between their ass cheeks.

The men strutted around, talking to one another as if it was a normal, everyday occurrence for them having a butt plug affixed to an animal tail up their asses. Even worse, they were all drop-dead gorgeous—muscular builds ranging from light to dark skin tones with the most well-defined abs she’d even seen. Not even Max’s physique came close to these Adonises.

Oh God, Max.
She gulped her drink. Searching for more booze, she almost twisted her ankle in the knee-high boots Catherine selected for her and sat down on a chair. Unlike the men, she was dressed all in white, wearing a tight vest with nothing underneath and a skimpy flare skirt that, when she bent over, showed off her thong. She’d been adamant in wearing the covering even though the mistress of ceremonies had urged her to go commando. She also wasn’t too keen on the gold eye shadow, blush, and lipstick or the glitter sticking to her skin, but she’d conceded when Catherine promised Max wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off of her.

She fiddled with the eye mask she would wear and took another puff from her inhaler.

“Hey girl, are you ready for your time to shine tonight?” Rosco, the dancing coach, bent down to fluff her hair away from her shoulders.

She gave him a big grin, her lips numb from the alcohol. “I’m scared shitless, but thanks for asking.” She peeked over his shoulder to look at his tail. “
How can he slouch down and still keep it up his butt?”

“It takes a lot of practice, honey.” He winked, flashing his gold painted eyelids.

She covered her mouth.
I can’t believe I said that out loud.

“I think you need a pep talk before we begin. Walk with me over to the corner.” Rising to his full height, he grabbed her hand, and led her away from the rest of the group.

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

He flipped back his dreadlocks and smiled, showing a full set of white teeth. She smiled back, getting a good look at his nipple rings glimmering on his dark chest.

“Now, listen to me. The boys won’t do anything you don’t want to do. The second I see you’re uncomfortable, we’ll stop. I’m a pro at reading body language, so I can tell when someone isn’t into something. Also, here’s backup.” He produced a whistle on a long cord, placing it around her neck. He nodded, pleased. “If one of the boys does something you don’t like, just whistle. Catherine has put us in our place many times with one blow.”

“I’m so nervous.” She held her stomach. “I hope I don’t end up puking all over the stage.”

“We’ve all been there before.” He led her to the carriage and opened the door for her to get inside. It was also white and gold, reminding her of a Roman chariot.

“Line up!” he hollered, and the men rushed to do his bidding.

They tied a combination of belts and ropes around their waists. Rosco arranged them, going as far as groping their ass cheeks to fix their tails.

Picking up the whip, she flicked her wrist. Catherine had taught her how to use it, including many other things she never thought in a million years she would end up doing. She took another puff from her inhaler.

The crowd’s screams and cheers increased. Her heart seemed to jump into her throat.

Rosco came to her side, rubbing his palms together. “In a few minutes, the DJ will introduce us, and we’ll trot out as you slash that whip of yours in the air. When we reach the center of the stage, we’ll stop. I’ll escort you out, and we’ll dance around like we practiced.” He grabbed her wrist, kissing her knuckles. “Just go with the flow. You might be amazed by how easy it is to let your inhibitions fall away. I promise I don’t bite.” He kissed her hand again, slapped her ass.

She yelped from the unexpected sting.

He laughed then walked away. “Just whistle.”

Just whistle. Something so easy to remember.
She lifted the whistle to her mouth, ready to blow the moment anything got out of hand. But the show tonight served a purpose. She needed to remember that. She would prove to Max she was strong, able to handle anything.
I just hope he doesn’t go batshit when he realizes what I’ve done.

Before she forgot, she pulled on the eye mask. When a booming voice came over the speaker, the crowd screamed. Christina Aguilera’s
Dirrty
started playing. When the curtains fell away, Erika and her entourage moved forward.

She slashed the whip high in the air, commanding her ponies to move faster. In no time, they were in the middle of the stage where she stared bravely into the audience. She couldn’t make out any faces because of the spotlight overhead, but still tried locating Max at his table near the edge of the stage. A flashing light blinded her, triggering big purple spots to dance in front of her eyes.

Rosco opened the door and took her hand.

“Remember, the whistle,” he whispered, and she nodded at him. Boosting her high in his arms, he circled the stage.

People cheered. She held her hands over her head, waving them around. When he placed on the floor, he grabbed her hips, grinding his pelvis into her ass. She was stunned for a moment, although they’d practiced the move many times earlier.

Remembering the whip, she snapped it in the air. The other men dropped to their knees, rocking their asses high in the air, their tails whipping around to the crowd’s delight.

Her other hand cramped. Not realizing she still held her inhaler, it tumbled to the floor and rolled off the stage. She almost cried out, but stopped when Rosco cupped her breast.

“Perfect, Erika,” he whispered in her ear.

Arching up into his hold, she moved her ass over his crotch. All of a sudden, she was torn away from him and twisted around.

Blinking, she stared up at a furious Max.

***

A red haze filled his vision. Livid with rage, he wanted to roar and smash someone’s face in. Shocked to the very core, he never expected to find Erika of all people half naked and involved in a depraved orgy skit. She must be high on something.

Her eyes were glazed over, her skin dotted with perspiration under the heat of the lights.
What the hell?
The urge to throw her over his shoulder and beat her took all rational thoughts out of his head.

A growl rose in his throat, and he jabbed his finger at Rosco. The tall, black man stepped away and folded his arms behind his back. He got down on his knees, bending forward to rest his forehead on stage like the other men behind him.

They bowed to their master in supplication. It was a good thing they did because he would have stomped on every last one of them.

“Max,” she whispered, holding out her hand—the one still holding the whip.

He grabbed the whip, tugging hard. She stumbled forward, and he captured her around the waist, her back to his front, then twined the supple length of leather around her body. His hand wrapped around her neck, keeping her captive.

The crowd went wild, the music changing to a loud electronic beat that shook the stage.

“You can stop us at anytime. Say your safe word or use the whistle,” he growled, squeezing her throat lightly.

She was in
his
playground. If she thought she would take over and manage him, he would teach her he bowed to no one, least of all here, where he was king.

***

It would have been so simple to say her safe word or lift the whistle to her lips and blow, but she wanted to see how far she could push Max. Two could play this game. Reaching behind her, she fondled his cock. He gasped, his tongue licking the whorl of her ear.

“You don’t want to test me.” He bit down on her lobe.

“Yes, I do.” She tugged on him, enjoying the way he expanded in her hand.

“Oh lady, you’re in trouble now.” He nibbled on the side of her neck.

Relaxing her grip, she dug her fingers into his inner thigh.

He snapped his finger, and Rosco crawled on all fours until he knelt in front of both of them. He rested his palms on his knees, gazing up at Max, waiting for his next direction.

“Continue,” he commanded in a booming voice.

Rising to their feet, the other men danced around one another, touching and caressing each other to the music that had become more carnal and stimulating with each beat.

Max licked the side of her throat as his hands moved up and down the front of her chest, swiping across her breasts. She rocked into his crotch, her arousal increasing, her inner thighs becoming slick with need. Overcome from the flashing lights, the thumping music, and the smell of sex in the air, she was afraid she would orgasm in front of all these people. The vodka she’d consumed left her lethargic, so when he inserted his leg between hers, she lowered on the limb for support, her eyes flickering closed.

His hand dipped beneath her vest to strum her nipple. She mewled, riding his thigh, rubbing fast. Her pussy spasmed, her core moistening, pooling in her thong.

Max said something, but she didn’t catch it. She opened her eyes halfway, spotting Rosco whose eyes were wide as quarters. Sweat covered his face. Max growled his name, and the choreographer moved forward, bunching her skirt up around her thighs.

“Whistle?” Rosco mouthed as he shoved her knees apart.

The crowd hollered in response. She blinked, trying to concentrate on what he asked. He stared up at her, waiting for her answer.

“Blow the whistle or tell me your safe word.” Max cupped her breast, his fingers locking around her beaded flesh. “If you don’t, I’ll make Rosco eat you out in front of everyone here.”

She looked out at the sea of faces but saw shadows. The blaring music muffled the crowd’s piercing screams and rowdy cheers. The ponyboys kissed one another, humping each other, their tails swinging back and forth. One knelt in front of another, pulling down the other ponyboy’s shorts until his large cock and shaved testicles were bared for all to see.

Looping her fingers around Max’s hand encircling her throat, she brushed her mouth over his cheek. “Have him do his worst,” she taunted, expecting him to stop Rosco from moving forward.

“So be it.” He snapped his fingers.

Inching forward, the man rose onto his knees. As his head disappeared under her skirt, he slid his palms up her thighs. When he shifted aside her thong, his tongue lapping the corner of her inner leg, she tensed.

His tongue wiggled in deep, licking over her slit. Max caught her around the waist, turning her face to him. He ate at her mouth, using his tongue to invade the same way Rosco used his to stimulate her.

Max never broke the kiss. Rosco never ceased his licking and sucking. He set her leg over his shoulder to gain more leverage as his tongue entered her. He circled up and around, lapping over her clit, flicking it with the tip of his tongue then laving it up and down.

She arched her back, strung tight as every nerve was torn asunder. Max moved his hand down, sliding until he joined Rosco’s tongue. He entered three fingers inside her, pumping into her swollen lips while Rosco slurped away her pooling juices. She jutted her hips up, crying out as she came. Her body throbbed, her release seeming to go on forever. Both men never halted their movements.

“Whiskers,” she whispered, struggling to find the voice to say the word.

Giving her clit a pinch, Max removed his hand. He then took the whistle and blew.

Rosco dropped onto his heels, his mouth glistening. He bowed his head, setting his palms on his thighs, submissive once again.

The boys around them didn’t stop, too involved in their playing. A few brought up a mix of men and women to join them. Soon, all were dancing or kissing one another. Clothes were removed and thrown on the stage.

Her knees gave out, but Max swept her up on his arm. She hid her face in his chest while he stepped down from the stage. His heartbeat thumped under her ear, soothing her. Her entire body twitched, her inner pussy muscles clenching, wanting more of the same she had experienced moments ago.

She had no idea where he was taking her, didn’t care. She hoped it was to his suite were they would be alone, so he could finish her off before she burst into flames.