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He nibbles on my ear, igniting sparks of pleasure across my sensitive skin. “That depends on you.”
“What do you mean?” I ask over the sound of the music.
“Do you want to see yourself getting fucked from every angle?”
My breath quickens at the prospect of another round of sex, and I turn to meet his pale eyes. “How?”
“Do you remember those screens at the bar?”
“Of course. Is that where we’re going next?”
Nodding, Xero motions to the bald man from earlier to approach. By now, the crowd has already turned around to watch the next spectacle, but a few patrons linger to see what will happen next.
Eyes brightening, the man places his tray on the platform, then scrambles up and falls to his knees.
My chest tightens with a pang of jealousy, even though the feeling is ridiculous. Xero chose me out of hundreds, if not thousands, of people. He went to extensive lengths to win my heart, yet there’s a part of me that will always feel possessive. That doesn’t stop me from gripping his thigh to signal that he’s off-limits.
“Would you like me to pour your Armagnac, sir?” the man asks, his head bowed.
“What’s your name?” Xero asks.
He peers up at Xero through his lashes. “Scroggins, sir. May I have yours?”
“You may call me Master Nero,” Xero says. “Bring the bottle to the screen room. We’ll drink it later.”
Holding my breath, I wait for Scroggins to mutter a bunch of excuses about why we can’t access a members-only area, but he simply bows low before saying, “Please, come with me.”
Minutes later, we’re following Scroggins out of the crowded ballroom and through a winding set of corridors. I cling to Xero’s arm, my heart pounding hard enough to muffle the fading music. If this is an ambush, then Xero’s backup is far away because we’ve left Jynxson and the others behind on the dance floor.
Xero wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me close. The gesture is reassuring, but it’s a chilling reminder that this is noordinary club night. Xero already explained that the man behind the Ministry of Mayhem is also loosely connected to X-Cite Media.
My fingers drift to one of the stiletto daggers we attached to my corset. I hope to all that’s holy I don’t have to stab my way to freedom.
We reach a fire exit and step out into a courtyard of vehicles, and my gaze wanders to a forty-foot-long tour bus.
“The screen room is outside?” Xero asks.
It’s an obvious question, but I know he’s communicating to whoever’s listening on the other side of his earpiece.
“Yes, sir,” Scroggins replies, still holding the tray. “The Ministry of Mayhem is a mobile establishment that operates out of multiple locations. Something to consider if you’d like to apply for membership.”
I hold back a smirk. Of course, Xero would get invited to become a member. Men don’t get more dominant than him.
Music pounds through the tour bus, which Scroggins leads us past. He doesn’t comment on the activity inside, but I’d bet everything I own that this is where Nocturne entertains his members.
He stops outside a dented trailer connected to a silver Land Rover. It’s a shiny capsule on wheels with reflective surfaces that gleam under the moonlight.
“This is the screen room.” Scroggins opens the door, revealing a small control area with panels of switches, buttons, and monitors. My jaw drops. It’s the kind of high-tech surveillance system I’d expect to find in a secret military operation, not in a fetish club.
“Nice Airstream,” Xero says. “Who designed this setup?”
“Our leader, Mr. Nocturne, is an amateur filmmaker,” Scroggins replies with a touch of pride. “The screen room uses cutting-edge surveillance technology.”
We follow him inside the trailer, finding the rest of it empty. Every surface, from the walls and floors to the ceiling, is covered in screens. In between them are heavy duty plates and hooks, which I assume are there to hold all the equipment in place. I turn in a circle, finding my movements mirrored in real time.
“Why don’t the screens record the others?” I ask. “I thought this would be like a hall of mirrors.”
“The members found it disorienting from all angles, so we incorporated green screen technology to filter out the feeds from the surrounding images.”
