“Nope,” I said truthfully. “Just someone who looks an awful lot like her.”
“Now, now. Don’t be shy, Olivia. Everyone is here for the same thing, and we’re all quite discreet, aren’t we, girls?”
The women beside him purred their assent, one watching me closely as she flicked a tongue into his ear. If that was supposed to entice me, I thought, stomach flipping, it was having the opposite effect.
“Have a seat, Olivia,” the other man said, either oblivious to or ignoring Samantha’s heated glare. At least she’d stopped writhing all over him.
“Sit next to me,” the blond ear licker said, spreading her legs slightly as she angled toward me.
“No,” I told them both, and remained where I was.
“Yes,” Joaquin said, and lifted his hand from the other woman’s nipple long enough to release her hair from its messy updo. She sighed, flipping her hair to one side. He took the single chopstick that had been holding it all up, and pointed it toward the artery in her neck. I edged around the cushioned cube across from them and sat.
“What’s your poison?” the other man asked me, though I didn’t think he was talking about drinks.
“Don’t, Lucas,” Samantha warned, crossing her arms.
“Oh, Olivia likes it rough,” Joaquin answered for me. “Isn’t that right?”
“You’ve been together before?”
“We go way back,” I replied, playing along. I positioned my conduit between my legs, pointed toward Joaquin. He ran the chopstick along the blond woman’s neck. She purred and leaned into it.
Samantha, who was apparently of the if-you-can’t-beat-’em-join-’em school of thought, perched herself on the coffee table in front of me, which put her smack between Joaquin and me. Placing her hands on my knees, she rubbed her thumbs over the insides, pushing slightly outward as she offered me a promising smile. She was blocking my view of Joaquin, and my shot. I shifted so I could see him again. He smiled knowingly.
“I think Samantha wants a kiss,” he said, slowly thrusting his pelvis in my direction, as his harem started up on his pants again. I looked over to find Lucas touching himself.
For a moment I thought about shooting them all.
“Yes, Olivia,” Samantha purred like a porn star, leaning forward so her cleavage was in my face, her short skirt riding almost to her hips. Joaquin’s eyes flickered. The ear licker leaned forward to caress Samantha’s ass. Her moan rustled my hair. “I’d love to taste those lips.”
I waited until I felt her breath on my cheek, her eyes half closed, her lips parted…then put my palm on her face and pushed. Hard. Samantha flew backward, over the coffee table, and into the trio opposite us. The girls screamed. Apparently fond of violence, Lucas stroked himself harder. Joaquin merely laughed.
“Apparently you’re not her type.”
Wedged between the table and couches, Samantha looked like a sand crab struggling from its back. “Fuck you! Fuck her! I’m going to-”
Joaquin’s hands whipped from behind the other two women to yank Samantha against him. I knew it hurt because she gasped and struggled as he pushed her down between his knees, so she was still facing me. Then his hands turned into a caress. “You’re definitely my type, though. So beautiful. So perfect. So healthy and vibrant and strong.”
I lowered my conduit, letting it point at the ground. Samantha melted under Joaquin’s touch and words, ignorant of being used as a shield and of what his kiss would do to her. She shot me a haughty look, unaware the fingers playing over her flesh could snap her neck in a nanosecond.
Knowing he’d outplayed me and had me trapped-he’d kill someone if I aimed at him, if I left, if I even moved at all-Joaquin laughed again. “Somebody suck me off.”
I couldn’t watch this, I thought frantically, as the women flanking him bent toward him. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t sit and watch while both these women began to burn inside. But the chopstick tapped lightly on one of their heads, and long fingers lingered along Samantha’s neck.
“Stop!” I said as one of the women reached into his pants, pulling him out.
“No…don’t stop,” Joaquin ordered.
“I’ll do you,” I said, and Joaquin’s surprise allowed me to stand without getting anyone killed. See? I thought, taking a step forward. No harm done.
“Oh, I’ve got to see this,” Lucas said, moving closer as the blondes eased back. There was confusion and a bit of petulance on their faces, but they were willing to share. As long as Joaquin was.
“Put your toy down,” he said, warning after warning layering his voice. I took a step back and dropped my conduit on the seat I’d just vacated. The air burned with satisfaction as Joaquin smiled. “Now come here.”
I did, nudging Samantha aside with my foot, a rude gesture meant to anger her enough that she’d get far, far away, and it worked. She pushed to her feet, grumbling, and flounced to Lucas’s other side. Now they were all lined up on the couch, watching me expectantly. I swallowed hard and took another step forward.
Well, what else was I supposed to do? I couldn’t let him kill one more person. I was counting on his desire to own and possess and force me to do something I hated-to rape me yet again, but this time with my consent and an audience to watch my humiliation-to make him forget all about the potential victims around him. After all, wasn’t I Joaquin’s ultimate victim?
I stopped inches from him, so close I could feel the heat from his skin leaching through his pants, so close his hard-on was unavoidable. Violent lust swirled in the air around me, making me dizzy, coating the walls and furniture and each of us with its filth. Even the blondes, twins I realized now that I was closer up, had backed away from Joaquin slightly, though to them it probably smelled like nothing more than body odor.
“On your knees,” he ordered in a dark, silky voice. I swallowed hard and slowly lowered myself to the floor. Perceiving my reluctance as slow seduction, blonde number one giggled, while Lucas leaned back comfortably. Joaquin slumped forward and made himself available to me.
I reached up, shaking, and wrapped my hand around him. He pulsed gently in my hand, and I wanted to puke. Joaquin sensed this, half groaning, half laughing, and grew harder still. “Don’t be shy,” he said, folding his arms over his head. “Kiss me.”
“And touch yourself while you do it,” Lucas suggested.
“O-okay,” I said. Bending forward, I let my free hand trail down my body, between my legs and the slit in my skirt.
“Olivia?”
I jerked, turned my head in time to see the curtains parting and Ian’s head appear.
“Go away, Ian,” I said, voice raspy, both hands working. He stared, unable to believe his eyes.
“No,” Joaquin said, the smile a yard wide in his voice. “Join us, Ian.”
“I…I…” Ian swallowed hard, looking at me, and I knew my eyes were as black as tar.
“Don’t worry, Ian,” I said, finally locating what I wanted between my legs. “It’s not what it looks like.”
And I drove my steel stiletto as hard as I could up between Joaquin’s legs, pulling on his shaft like a gear stick, a primal cry in my throat as blood gushed over my weapon hand. My yell was nothing, however, compared to Joaquin’s roar. His arms flailed reflexively, hitting the girl on his right in the face. She cried out, dropping her martini in his lap. He screamed louder.
Everyone else scattered. I’d have said it seemed like slow motion, their cries long and hollow and blasting through the tented area, but they weren’t going slow. Joaquin and I were simply moving that much faster.
He was on the couch, up the wall, then flipped behind me in a motion so swift and smooth I lost my grip…both of them. I whirled, kicking out as I did, but his hand wrapped around my ankle and yanked. I was thrown across the coffee table and landed in a pile of limbs between Lucas, Samantha, and one of the twins. Hands scrambled at me; I didn’t know if they were pulling me forward or pushing me away, but my head was up in time to catch Joaquin’s victorious expression as he lifted my abandoned conduit and pointed it my way.