Page 189 of Sin City Dark
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.
Over and over again, Jordan caressed the woman, his palms roaming everywhere, exploring her smooth skin, and Jannie realized he was avoiding the obvious places. Jannie could only imagine how it felt to writhe under Jordan’s hands, every erogenous zone stimulated without any relief.
Meanwhile, Nick caressed Jannie, his thumb brushing back and forth over hers, making her fervently wish his thumb were in a different place, the spot that was tingling and throbbing and becoming more soaked by the second.
Jordan now moved close to the woman’s head. Jannie could see her gripping the handholds tightly. How she could keep her hands to herself, Jannie couldn’t fathom. The self-control she displayed was nothing short of phenomenal.
He reached into his other pocket, producing another fistful of pearls. He said something, and the woman immediately let go of the handholds and raised her arms, putting her hands together. Jordan quickly wound the string of pearls around her wrists, and then she was laid out for him, at his mercy, vulnerable to anything he wanted to do next.
Jannie tensed, fully expecting Jordan to take out his cock and fuck her or slide it into her mouth.
The thought of watching such an act live and not on a TV screen made Jannie squirm.
Nick immediately took notice and leaned toward her again. “If you’re uncomfortable, we’ll go.”
Leaving would be unspeakably rude, she thought. “We’re right in front.”
“Doesn’t matter.” He paused a beat. “It’s about to get intense. Just say the word if it becomes too much.”
Jannie merely nodded.
A black-clothed man appeared from the side of the stage, carrying a lowball on a small silver tray and two objects concealed by wrapping. Tipping his head politely, Jordan took the glass, raising it to the audience before he took a long pull of what Jannie assumed was whiskey or bourbon. The amber liquid caught the light, and Jannie sorely wished she, too, could have a sip.
Jordan replaced the glass, then took one object off the tray and quickly unwrapped it. It flashed in his hand.
A scalpel.
He brought the tip to her lower lip. A bead of red appeared as he pricked her. He said something, she immediately parted her lips, and he bent to swipe the tiny red drop with his tongue.
Jordan then took a sip of whiskey, taking his time to place the glass back on the tray. Then, bending over her, he opened his mouth and let the liquor dribble from his parted lips and into hers.
Her tongue emerged, swiping at the liquid pouring from his mouth and dribbling from the corner of hers, streaming down her cheek to her jaw, which Jordan gripped roughly, seizing her lips in a kiss so carnal and deep that Jannie felt as if she were melting in her seat.
On and on Jordan kissed her, his free hand moving in a languid exploration of her breasts, tugging on each pearl strand, then bending to tongue and roll the beads over her nipples.
Arching her back, she writhed under the assault of his lips. She no longer held back, whimpering and moaning, murmuring inaudible things every time Jordan looked up to check in with her. Her breasts rolled as she undulated, her chest rose and fell, and her abdomen pulled in as he kissed his way down, lower, lower, until he reached just below her navel.
His tongue circled there, but he didn’t kiss or touch her any lower.Neither did he move the sphere, for which Jannie was grateful. She, of all people, didn’t need a graphic display; the obstructed view amped up the scene’s eroticism. The woman’s reaction to Jordan pushing a finger into her, her mouth opening, chin lifting, lips parting in a silent gasp, and the motion of his hand working her was enough to arouse Jannie to the point of painful clenching.
Suddenly, Jordan stopped. The woman’s high-pitched mewl pierced the silence, causing him to grin with wicked satisfaction. He said something, and Jannie clearly read his lips:not yet.
Pressing a kiss to the woman’s navel, Jordan then reached for the third object on the tray. He tore open the pouch, revealing what looked like a folded wipe. Blue liquid dripped from it as he trailed it inches above her abdomen. With infinite care, he began wiping her down, gently and caressingly, starting at her throat, causing her to shudder.
Jannie thought to ask, but in the next moment, her nose picked up the sharp, bitter metallic smell of chlorhexidine.
And suddenly, she knew.
Eyes widening, she turned to Nick. “He’s going to cut her,” she whispered.
A curt nod. He searched her face. “How do you feel about that?”
Nervous ribbons swirled through her middle. “I … don’t know.”
She should get up now. Leave. Turn her back on this and never come back here again. But something she didn’t care to analyze whispered from a deep place inside her where she had never even dared to go.
Stay. Watch.
