Inhibition-X (8 page)

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Authors: Bobbi Romans

Tags: #Contemporary; BDSM fetish

BOOK: Inhibition-X
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“Tonight will be a masquerade event beachside. All visitors are requested to join, and since you were a contest winner, you receive special armbands for you and your guests that will allow for free drinks,” Khara announced with a hint of excitement as she handed over the four wristbands. Normally Khara’s demeanor remained devoid of any emotion, maybe to help prevent any unintentional attachments.

“Like true costumes? Masks, the works?” J.D. asked.

“Yes. Whatever costume you wish, or just a mask. The only requirement is you try to hide who you are.”

“Shoot, I didn’t bring anything even close to a costume,” P.J. commented.

“As this is a customary event, not announced until guests have already arrived, we have a costume shop. All sets are free of charge but must be returned before you leave the island so they may be cleaned before the next event.”

“Oh fun.” P.J. bounced excitedly. “Where is the shop?”

“Three huts down from the main office. Have fun.” Khara waved as she headed off.

Again, Heather got the impression Khara couldn’t wait for the party. Deep down, she had to admit the idea of wearing a mask and being anonymous appealed to her on some primal level.

Being as wild and free as she wanted without anyone else knowing.

They only had two more days on the island.

She lied. She wasn’t content. She wanted to go wild and crazy one last time, and the masquerade provided the perfect background. If she was really lucky, the tattoo stud might show up. So long as any part of the tat was visible, she’d be able to recognize him.

Time to get her funky, masked groove on.

Chapter Fourteen

The costume shop should have been renamed Can of Sardines on account of how packed the place was. They’d elbowed their way past the masses and split as they each muscled their way toward any spot in the store still displaying costumes.

Heather had no clue how the others were making out, but so far she’d come up with nothing. Just bits and pieces of costumes. Then one came into view.

A black, Elvira-inspired dress, matching long wig, and small hat and veil to hide her face.

Perfect.

“Hey, how’d you fare?” P.J., came out with a dark bag. In fact, all the bags were opaque to prevent anyone from viewing the outfits within.

“I’m happy.”

“Well, what did you pick?” P.J. asked trying to peek in her bag.

“Not saying. I want to stay incognito for as long as possible.” She figured P.J. would push her on the issue, but she didn’t.

“Good for you girl. Go get your freak on.” P.J. winked and took off, pausing to quickly add, “Since the party doesn’t start until eight, the guys and I are heading to the waterslides. Wanna come and kill a few hours?”

“Sure.” A few hours in the sunshine, laughing with friends before, hopefully, the wildest night of her life, sounded like heaven. “Let’s do this.”

* * * *

Peachy. She’d managed to get a sunburn right before a big event. The tiny island store fortunately carried lidocaine, which P.J. helped douse her in. So much for being inconspicuous tonight.

Wait. She’d packed a new purchase. A thin, long-sleeved shrug. One of their regular mochaccino customers had warned her about cool, tropical ocean night air. Seemed she’d gone on a cruise, and during one of the evening island excursions in a sleeveless dress, had become uncomfortably chilled.

Her one-piece suit had covered most of her front, so only her shoulders got fried. The shrug would work perfect with her Elvira-ish outfit.

“Okay, we’re heading out. Sure you don’t want us to wait for you?” P.J. called out from the other side of the bathroom door.

“Nope, I’ll be down shortly,” she yelled back, wanting the place cleared out.

“All right. I’d say see ya there, but I guess that’s sort of missing the point,” P.J. stated as Morgan told her to hurry up. “Bye. Have fun tonight.”

“Bye.”

Finally the hut door closed. Her makeup was done and her hair dried and pinned up tightly, ready for the long, black wig.

Excitement coursed through her at the thought of gaining her desire to be unknown. To do and act like another with no one the wiser.

She slipped into the floor-length, skin-tight gown, which featured a slit from her hip all the way down. Cleavage, hell. The dress was also split from neck to belly button. Last item? The wig. Grabbing the material underneath, she pulled the mesh bottom gently over the crown of her head, tugging here and there until every hair sat perfectly in place. No way would walking in heels in sand go over, so attending barefoot seemed optimal. She wanted to enjoy herself and not be a hot, stumbling mess.

Eat your heart out, Elvira.

With one last glance in the mirror, she headed out with high hopes and a low neckline. As soon as she stepped outside, strains of music reached her ears. A live band. Wow. Nice surprise. Once she made it all the way down the path to the party, she paused to take in the magical sight.

Tiki torches lit the entire beach, along with festive paper lanterns strung from the trees along the path. Flowers that appeared to hold candles floated about in the shallows. Several bars and food tables were set up in strategic area. Island staff also walked around with trays laden with goodies. Everywhere she looked, costumed guests laughed, danced, and nibbled their way around the beach.

She understood Khara’s excited smile from earlier. The party truly appeared a magical event.

An Elvis strolled by, as did a vampire and a scantily clad cave woman. She made her way toward the bar and found Fred Flintstone nibbling a smoked turkey leg as he waited for his drink to be made.

The Marquis certainly hadn’t held anything back from this party. He’d covered every fine detail. About then the back of chubby Fred’s costume blew up.

Oh, maybe add a rule about underwear.

Chapter Fifteen

“And here you go. One amaretto sour with an extra cherry and splash of clear soda.” The bartender handed her the drink right as someone bumped into her from behind. Half the beverage sailed down the deep plunge of her neckline. No way she’d been able to hold back the shocked squeal when the ice-cold liquid hit her boobs. None.

“I’m so sorry,” a whiskey-laden voice stated from behind her.

She turned around to find a hand holding napkins out in offering. The hand belonged to none other than her tattooed mystery man. Woo-hoo for shirtless pirate costumes, as not only were they sexy on the right man, but they also exposed any recognizable waist-up tattoos. His mask appeared to be leather and only covered his upper face, but still hid enough she couldn’t quite make out his features.

“Accidents happen.” She wanted to say more but wasn’t sure how. What should she say?
Hey, what’s your name, big guy with the sexy tattoo?
Then he turned around again to get more napkins.

“Cool tattoo. Mind if I ask what it says?”

“Thanks. Means ‘follow your heart.’”

His voice didn’t seem to fit him. Whiskey-scratchy typically she loved, but somehow with him, she gathered he tried to hide his real tone. Odd, since they didn’t know each other, and she couldn’t fathom a valid reason for him to do so.

“Speaking of, can we talk?”

Before she could blink or even think his request odd, Candy sidled up to him and damn near purred. How did she recognize Candy? The boobs. Straight up, the knockers thrust from the teeny bikini with the heart tattoo blaring front and center.

“Hello, Mr. Pirate Man, where have you been hiding at?” she cooed, making sure to jiggle her jugs until Mr. Tattoo’s eyes dipped to check out her cleavage.

On one hand, yay, because this meant P.J. had made sure the bitch got the message to back off Morgan. On the other hand, boo, because now Candy’d set her sights on the one man she herself had become interested in.

“And what are you supposed to be?” She shouldn’t have asked but couldn’t seem to resist.

Candy pepped up even more.

“I’m the itsie bitsie teenie weenie bikini, like from the old song.” Candy shook her shoulders until her tits swung back and forth.

While granted the suit fit…

“And the mask?” Nope, the mask didn’t fit her theme at all. With all the garish-bright sequins the thing seemed more suited for Mardi Gras event than a beach costume party.

“The colors went well with my eyes,” she stated, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

Her pirate started laughing. All-out, belly-busting laughing.

Thing was, the mask came down so far you couldn’t make out her eyes, much less what color they were. And dingbat that she was, she hadn’t a clue. When Candy turned a confused gaze toward her sexy pirate, Heather joined him in the laughter. Candy’s glare couldn’t be missed once she did.

Candy might not be the brightest bulb, but she figured out their humor was about her and stomped off. When Candy whirled around to shoot them a bird, she ran square into the volleyball net cord and went flying backward. She took down the robust man wearing only a loincloth who’d been chowing down on barbecue ribs and potato salad. He went down, his plate went flying, and when everything stopped moving, Candy lay sprawled in the sand wearing masses of red barbecue.

Seemed Heather hadn’t been the only one whose nerves Candy had stomped over, as several others joined in the laughter.

She turned back to her pirate to catch him walking toward the trail that led to the huts. Disappointment clawed at her—he’d chosen to leave. She’d thought they’d been having fun and maybe things more than laughter might occur. Right as she accepted her replacement drink from the courteous and attentive bartender, a movement in her peripheral vision had her turn to see Mr. Pirate point at her, then crook his finger in a motion for her to come.

And go she did.

She sipped her sour as she made her way toward him. The closer she got, the more steps away he took, always stopping to make sure she stayed in eyeshot.

No words were needed to tell her where they headed. She knew the path all too well. She’d taken the same course once before. Of all nights for humidity to settle upon the island, it had to be the night her anxiety was heightened. Strands from the Elvira wig stuck to her cleavage. Her thoughts shot to her taped boobs. Should she remove the tape holding her boobs up to fit the dress now, somehow, or wait and see if the need really came to pass?

Gah? How do all these girls with all their fake attributes get through the night without one thing or another coming loose or free all together?

He’d disappeared into the hut, but a pale light came on and illuminated the opened door.

She paused at the small wooden steps leading inside.

This was it. Her chance to live her fantasy. She didn’t know him, nor he her. One night of ecstasy she’d never have to regret. Her chance to be wild.

Now or never.

Chapter Sixteen

The scent of jasmine hit first, then a blast of welcomed cool air.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come in,” he said as he adjusted his mask in an almost nervous fashion.

Her voice would give if she answered, so she stayed quiet and took in his room.

The entire ceiling was a window to the sky. Since his hut sat far away from the others, no light masked the breathtaking starry night view. Even the back and sidewalls of the hut were floor-to-ceiling glass.

“Wow. Nice place. You seem to have gotten the penthut.” She laughed as she took in all the lush plants that stood in every available spot.

“Penthut? Oh, like penthouse. Ah, a lady with a sense of humor. Apparently the place only allows a limited number of visitors at one time? I guess they took pity and gave me the VIP hut.”

“Well, it’s gorgeous. And all the glass opens everything up. Almost as if you were one with nature.” If anyone was out traipsing around in the jungle behind the hut, they’d be visible to them. The placement of the bed relative to the windows hid nothing.

The bed, or what she assumed to be, was built into the floor much like she’d seen at the trampoline gym she’d checked out once. Fur covered the top, so she couldn’t tell for sure if in fact the odd bed was truly a bed-oline. On the floor at each of its corners sat posts with straps. Her mouth grew dry even as other areas grew wet.

She shot back the rest of her drink and sought a place to set the glass the down. Her pirate extended a hand, and without thought she almost stepped back. At the last moment, she realized he only asked for her glass After she handed it over, he disappeared into a small kitchen area.

Shivers burst across her skin as she sensed him behind her. Her moment had come. Now or never.

She turned and grabbed his head, pulling his mouth to hers. Color her surprised when he seemed to hold back. Didn’t open to the kiss at first and even placed his hands on her shoulders as if to push her away. Mortified, she nearly stopped and fled, thinking she’d mistaken his invitation to come in and what he’d meant by it. But then she brushed her tongue over the seam of his mouth, and he ignited. The only word that came to mind was ravenous. As if he’d always longed for this. She had to admit, it was far more than she’d imagined a kiss could be. From the moment their tongues met, she grew lightheaded and saw fireworks.

He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers.

“Are you willing to let go and give in to desire?” he whispered into her ear. The heat of his breath raised goose bumps across her skin. “Are you willing to be mine, in every way possible, for the evening?”

She nodded, and he surprised her by turning her around until her back rested against his chest.

“No. I want to hear you say so,” he demanded. “During every step of our time together, I want to know you’re with me. One hundred percent.”

“Yes.” Her voice was barely audible, but when he snaked his hands around her body to her breasts, her doubts about whether she’d spoken loud enough fled.

“There will only be the two of us. No other players.” His voice turned to steel with this statement.

“Yes,” she agreed.

“Nothing tonight will include pain. Only pleasure. However, if you become uncomfortable, you need only say so. Do you understand?”

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