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