Page 30 (1/2)
Chapter One: Extra
Jason Beck braced in the back seat of the swerving taxi, tapping his fingers on his thigh Breathe in Breathe out The smoke, crowds, and hectic cos he could control
As much as he liked control
The cab dodged a drunken pedestrian and turned on a narrow street lit by neon signs, then glided to a stop beside a low building with a scarred, black door
“This is it?” he asked the driver
“This is it,” thesmirk “I hope you have enjoy”
Jason rin He knew people perceived hiht At Cirque du Monde, he was considered a workaholic in a company of workaholics He preferred to think of himself as responsible, but at the end of the day he was mostly an out-and-out, three-alarht Maybe he needed to loosen up a bit, stop thinking about work soplace
“You’re strung so tight,” Michel Le assignment “I want you to take tiolia I’ll be disappointed if you don’t”
Jason knew Leolia’s food or scenery when he talked about local pleasures The man was a hedonist, a sex freak Jason was pretty freaky too…when he wasn’t burying himself in work
He made excuses for all the time he spent at work, for his obsession with self-discipline and control He was driven by the ideals of Cirque du Monde—that circus could be entertaining, even visionary, without the use and abuse of animals The only animals at Cirque were its human artists and performers, many of whom Jason helped train Michel Lemaitre, the CEO, had lobe, sixteen productions in all, and that only happened with a hell of a lot of self-discipline and control
Jason’s dedication to Cirque had hi He’d recently been pro team to the Departer days, a reater involvement in Lemaitre’s decisions It was a dream come true for Jason, even if his personal and social life suffered To see an act develop froe of ideas into a polished show-stopper…that brought hi, or casual scening at BDSM clubs
Then why are you sitting in a cab outside a Mongolian fetish club?
Because of Lemaitre’s little lecture? Or because, somewhere deep inside, some part of him wanted more? More than Cirque, more than talent developht? More than a string of short, controlled relationships oht Jason needed to loosen up, work less and experience ht
Jason shoved a hand in his pocket and paid the Mongolian cabbie, then ehtened the wrinkles in his charcoal suit jacket, adjusted his collar and tie, and ran a hand over his hair, ta’s door, he noticed a hand-lettered sign to one side that read BDSM Fun Club in curly letters
Maybe this would be stupid
Maybe it would be sexy
There was only one way to find out
The burlyhis suitability as a patron Ulaanbaatar was Mongolia’s largest city—nightclubs and bars abounded—but this club apparently strove for exclusivity He tried to exude his -doht in a vanilla bar somewhere, or back to the hotel
At last the head doored his monetary worth ood thing He showed his American passport rather than his French one and forked over the exorbitant cover charge Well, that was the sale men paid the most for their pleasures That done, he aved toward a pair of black curtains
“No touch girls,” the doorman warned “Pay for private room, you like Extra” He emphasized the extra with an arch of his brow
Well, obviously the sex was extra, probably a lot extra for a foreigner with an American passport It didn’t matter, since prostitutes weren’t covered under Cirque du Monde’s travel budget, not even for a newly-proht hit up his boss for the cover charge, though Michel Lemaitre loved fetish and owned his own network of BDSM clubs, all called le Citadel, one in every city where Cirque had a show Leolia, and probably would have taken over the whole daht
Jason entered thein the fahts, dark, soundproofed walls, pretty girls writhing in cages in the corners, soerie Others were cuffed to posts or racks, waiting to be played with—for a price Every woman in the club wore a thick, black collar, even the waitresses weaving between the tables Most of the patrons sat alone, although a few sat in larger groups, joking and talking
At the front of the rooht illuress A short, pudgysolish schoolmaster and French maid theme The woman was cute, if a little shrill for his tastes Her do her in the local tongue Jason figured he’d do that for a while, talk and lecture and threaten Titillate the audience to frothing needfulness so by the ti with his victim, half theextra
“Good evening, Master”
Jason turned at the soft greeting A slender, skiaze cast down in true sub to drink?”
She spoke English, sweet, slightly-clipped English with a British lilt He stared for a moment at the delicate flare of her hips above the band of her lace garter skirt, then raised his eyes to her breasts, perfect in her low-cut bra, and then to her slave collar and the sweep of her shiny black hair Her high, broad cheekbones gave her an elegant prettiness She was gorgeous Exotic
Young
“How old are you?” he asked He had standards He wasn’t going to slaver over her unless she was at least eighteen
Her pale blue eyes olians didn’t have eyes like that Cont
acts, h the blue darkened slightly around the iris, revealing her true color Blue-eyed or dark-eyed, he found her nificent Her bronze skin looked so smooth and soft
“I’h” She leaned closer, so her breasts lifted a little from the cups of her bra She was delicious, so tentative and shy There was naked flesh all around him, bold, seductive women, but all he could think was, I want this waitress I want her tied up I want her in a cage, peeking out athis thoughts “I’m here to serve you A drink,” she added, lest he misunderstand
He looked at the lales she handed hilish?”
“If you need helpa choice, Master—”
“Why are you calling me Master?” It irritated hiirl He couldn’t even touch her without getting thrown out Bouncersall the activity in the room
She looked away, focusing on the couple interacting on the stage “We’re supposed to call our visitors ‘Master’ If you don’t like it…” She blinked ain
“I don’t mind it,” he heard himself say Snort Guh Wow, she was beautiful He sed hard, fighting uncontrolled arousal Maybe…extra…
No He’d never paid for sex in his life and he wasn’t going to start now “Can you getcultural? Local? I’ve never been to Mongolia before”
“Yes, Master”
She hurried off He wondered if all these hot little sex workers spoke English, or whether she got his table because she was the only one He watched the sway of her hips as she headed for the bar, the curve of her ass cheeks barely showing beneath her tight-fitting skirt The sight of her walking aorth the cover charge he’d paid
Okay, enough gawking She was a cute young woman in a short skirt No need to be creepy There were plenty of other woestive as e was finally getting her palms whacked by the schoolmaster
Her palms? Yawn
Jason wanted to see her ass played with and punished, her cheeks scarlet with cane stripes Breasts bared and tortured with tit clamps In hisout as he caned her He pictured his hands on her delicate hips, grasping tight as he plunged inside her pussy…
“Here you go, Master”
Her melodic voice arrested hi, because everything that came to mind was inappropriate Kneel down Take out ht voice “What is it?”
“It’s a Mongolian sort of vodka It’s called har” She bit her lip “It’s very strong”