Page 10 of From Russia With Blood

“Didn’t peg you as the topping type.” The small, novelty whip she holds in her hands as she tries to look fierce just makes me chuckle. She really has no clue what she’s doing, but I’m sure she’s just happy to be invited. “What are you wearing?”

Lowering the whip to her side, she balls her hands into fists and plants them on her hips, striking a heroic pose. “I’m Supernatural Female Hero. Complete with mask. And you?”

I twirl about, letting her look at the full outfit. “I’m Adult School Girl Miscreant, trademark pending. Can’t you tell?” The smile slips a bit as I watch Lizzy preen in front of the mirror. She’s so new to all of this. As much as I want to play with full abandon, I also need to keep an eye on her. It’s only right.

“Thinking about a certain, hot archeologist with a whip for days?”

“Yes.” The lie slips through my teeth with an ease I didn’t realize I was capable of. I’m usually such an honest person, but I can’t let Lizzy know that I've made myself her unofficial nanny. She would never forgive me if she knew I was foregoing my pleasure for hers.

Everyone deserves that first time, and I’m bound and determined to make hers just amazing. Looking at our reflections one last time, I double-check that my band is on before heading out the door.

I pull out our map and lead the way to the Karaoke Forever Bar. If tonight is going to be successful, I’m going to need at least one shot. The only thing I’m debating is whether or not I need to save my second drink for after or take both of them as liquid courage beforehand.

Both of us are silent as we head to the elevators, which is unusual for Lizzy. I don’t mind it though; it gives me a chance to really process some things. Now that I’m on the ship, it’s really not so bad. As long as I can keep from looking outside, a lot of the terror has ebbed away.

Then why am I still unhappy? I reach into my shirt to grab my phone, only to remember I left it in the room. It’s so weird to be without it, but the rules make sense. I don’t have anything to hide, but it’s nice knowing random photos won’t come back to haunt me.

The Karaoke Forever bar is hopping as we arrive, with costumes of all sorts in attendance. Most seem to have opted for fetish wear, which is fine, but I don’t have the desire to traipse around a cruise ship in kinky lingerie. The yowlings of some emo song pour through the speakers as people of all types try their hand at singing. It’s just too much to take in at the moment.

I turn to look at Lizzy to see if she wants to go to The Gee Spot, but she’s already at the counter looking through the book to pick out her song. So much for a quiet drink or two to calm my nerves. Shaking my head, I slide up to the bar and look out at the pool connecting us. A few people paddle around in the water, laughter spilling from their lips.

Could it really be that easy? I feel like a voyeur as I stare at the young woman being held underwater by a large Dom. He lets her flail about a bit before bringing her back up, coughing and sputtering. They share a searing kiss before he puts her under again. I’ve never tried breath play like that, and I’m not sure I want to try on this ship. My fear of water runs deep. The last thing I need is a man holding me under.

Did I list that as part of my limits? Fear seizes my heart as I stare at the frantic splashing. Over in the corner, a tall, broad man stares at the scene, eyes never leaving the two. His arms are crossed as he watches their every move. His skin is as dark as a night god as he practically melts into the shadows of the pool, and he looks just as deadly.

Turning his head, he flashes me a bright smile, the intensity a nearly-blinding contrast. I’m unable to pull away as I stare into the fathomless pools that are his eyes. They glitter for just a moment before he turns back to the two. Everything about him seems surreal, and yet, there he is in flesh and blood until his frame dips back out of sight again.

He must be a Dungeon Master. Every inch of him exudes power and competence. If all the Masters are like him, I can probably breathe a bit easier. Besides, just because I don’t list playful drowning as a limit, I’m sure that can be covered in separate negotiations. One thing’s for sure: after tonight, I’m not coming back to this bar. I don’t want anyone to even think about putting me in water.

A glass wall juts out from either side, offering a small sense of separation from us and the water. I stare, transfixed, as condensation drips down the pane, holding for just a moment, then sliding. I’m way more fascinated than I should be. It’s like time has stilled, and all that exists is that droplet and me. I follow it with my finger, tracing it down as if it were sweat dripping down a chest.

Glancing up, I see the Dungeon Master staring me down, his dark eyes glinting with the myriad of lights going on behind me. They flash across them, turning them all different colors - yellow, green, red. The red stays the longest, and I find I can’t pull away from him. Air stills in my lungs as we stare each other down. He’s sexy as sin, but not the man I wanted to play with tonight.

His eyes drop to my chest, and he snakes out his tongue, just a flash of pink. I almost didn’t notice the fangs. It shouldn’t surprise me he’d have them. It’s the easiest costume to manufacture. Anyone can be a vampire with a set of pointy teeth and the right attitude. You can wear whatever you want, look any way you want. You just have to have the right teeth.

Unbidden, the sexy stranger comes back into my mind, and I wonder if all his costumes are going to be in the archaeological realm or if he’s going to branch out into the supernatural as well. All too soon, the comfortable warmth begins to feel a little stifling. Sweat trickles down the back of my neck as I’m trapped in this man’s sights. The splashing is now a hum in the background, a soft niggle at my brain, a breath on my skin.

“You’ve got to sing with me!”

Lizzy's hands grip my arm as she shakes me - hard. The man is no longer looking at me. He’s back to watching the water players. Was he ever even looking at me? Was it all in my head? I force my gaze away and glance at Lizzy, noting the heightened pink on her cheeks. Her excitement is nearly palpable as she bounces in place at my side.

“You know I don’t sing.” I look back at the man, and he still isn’t looking at me. Is it possible to have an entire fantasy play out in your mind, and none of it be real? Shaking my head, I raise my hand to alert the bartender. At my small movement, the Dungeon Master turns to me and smiles, fangs nowhere in sight. Fuck. I haven’t even had a drink yet.

“Yes, you do. I’ve heard you in the shower.”

Heard what in the shower? What is she going on about? “I -.”

“No buts! It’s our song. You have to!”

I let her drag me to the stage. With Lizzy, it’s always easier to give in than put up a fight. Groaning, I look at the title as it flashes across the screen. I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll by Joan Jett. Great. “Fine. Just this one. But then we need to go downstairs.” I look at the near-empty cup in her hand. How did she manage to go through that entire margarita while I was sitting there? An eerie sense that time has slowed down slips over me. How long was I watching this guy?

The first few bars of the song come on, and I go into it with a gusto I don’t feel. My head throbs as the music pounds away at us. People all around us are yelling, many cheering, some jeering. It’s almost too much. I want to squirrel back away into my suite and just sit out the rest of the trip, but I know that’s the cowardly thing to do.

A few lines in, and I’m swaying along to the beat with Lizzy, trying to make myself get lost in the song, but something keeps catching my eyes. A movement I can’t quite make out. Dungeon Master is still there, but now, another man has joined him. His pale skin fairly glows in the dim light of the pool. Their heads are locked into what looks like a heated discussion until they both look up at me.

The Dungeon Master points in my direction, and the other guy smiles and nods before gliding over to our side of the bar. His movements are sleek, controlled - lethal. Where my mystery man was purposeful and to the point with his walking, this man is almost ethereal. I don’t know what it is about him, but I’m mesmerized. It takes a hard jab to my ribs to realize I’ve missed most of my section, but I don’t care.

Again, I find myself pulled towards someone I don’t know, and I don’t like the feeling. The need to submit and be out of control is strong in me, but only when I can trust the person or situation. Nothing about this seems normal or natural. It’s not like me to stare, to get so caught up with a stranger.