Hot Ticket
Page 5

 Olivia Cunning

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“How did you know it was me?” he asked.
She lifted the visor of his helmet and stared into his eyes. Her cerulean blue irises stood in shocking contrast to her jet-black hair and porcelain-white skin. “Besides the fact that you’re still wearing the same clothes?”
Oh.
“It’s the way you carry yourself, angel. The tension in your body. It pulsates off you. How long has it been since you’ve had release?”
He knew what she meant. She didn’t mean sexual release. He could have that any time he wanted. She meant how long since he’d gotten what he needed. The release she could give him. “Almost a year.”
She pursed her lips with sympathy. “Poor baby. I’ll fix it.” She touched his cheek. “Make it all better.”
Ripples of delight snaked along his jaw, down his neck and belly. Grabbed him by the balls. He shuddered. Reached for her. Needing it. Her.
She slapped his hand away. “No.”
He clenched his hand into a fist and lowered it to his side. He knew she was a domme and used to men taking her orders, so he allowed her to retain her power. For now. “Let’s go.”
“Now?”
“Yeah, now. Right now.”
She laughed. The rich, husky sound made his spine tingle.
“I’ve got to go back to work, sugar.”
His breath came out in a frustrated huff. “Then when? When?”
“Tomorrow night. Ten o’clock.”
Jace’s stomach tightened. He shook his head. “I can’t wait that long.”
Her hand cupped his crotch. His breath caught. She squeezed his balls. Not too hard. Just enough to gift him with delicious agony. It hurt so good, he bit his lip to stop himself from crying out in ecstasy.
“You will wait,” she said evenly. “Say it.”
He resisted.
She squeezed harder. “Say it.”
He drew the horrible, sweet pain inside, craving more of the same.
She removed her hand, and he winced. His stomach roiled, but he wanted more pain. Lots more. And he knew she wouldn’t give it to him, ever, unless he obeyed her. “I will wait.”
She smiled and slid something into his hand. A business card. “This is the address. Be on time, or I won’t answer the bell.”
He glanced down at her plain black business card. There was just enough light in the alley to make out the blood red text.
Mistress V
Specializing in corporal punishment
Corporal punishment? Lord, he almost came down his leg, just seeing it in print.
Jace took a steadying breath to clear his thoughts. He had other responsibilities to consider. Sinners had an important performance the next night. Would the concert be over by ten? Though they usually headlined, Sinners was opening tomorrow, so their set started earlier than usual. They should be done by nine thirty, so he’d have to hurry. “I’ll be there,” he said.
“I look forward to making you beg for mercy,” she murmured.
“Then you’ll be disappointed.” He slid her card into his pocket and climbed onto his bike. He turned the key, and the engine roared to life beneath him. “Until tomorrow.”
Chapter 3
Jace moved his ice pack from his left hand to this right. The swelling was starting to go down, but he knew he wouldn’t play for shit tonight. They were opening for Exodus End, in front of a sold out crowd. In f**king Las Vegas, Nevada. This should be a huge boost to their music careers, and they were all but guaranteed to suck. Sinners was moving up in the business, but Exodus End was at the top of the genre with no signs of slowing down. Could Sinners have picked a worse concert to be off their game? Not likely.
Rock star hair wet from a recent shower, Eric sank onto the sofa beside Jace. “How’s the hand?”
Jace shrugged. “I’ll live.”
“Yeah, but more importantly, can you play?”
Jace looked up at Eric, who had three thin strips of tape on his temple holding his wound closed. “Should be able to. How’s Trey?”
“He’s taking a nap.”
Jace drew his brows together. “A nap?” That didn’t sound like Trey. Shouldn’t he be out finding some girl to f**k for a couple hours? Or some guy? Trey didn’t care either way. “Maybe we should take him to the doctor.”
“I think he’s kind of down about Brian getting married this afternoon. He won’t say anything, of course, but Brian isn’t going to have as much time for his best friend now that Wifey Sinclair is in the picture.”
Jace guessed that made sense. Trey and Brian had been best friends for almost twenty years. They were even roommates. Trey was bound to feel left out now that Brian was married. “Yeah.”
With no warning, Eric slapped Jace on the back of the head. “Why didn’t you ever mention that you fight like a UFC champion?”
Jace glanced up at him. “You never asked.”
“Where did you learn to kick ass?”
The cabin of the tour bus seemed to close in on Jace. He did not like to think about his past, much less talk about it. He stared at the ice pack on his hand and shrugged. “I dunno. How about you? You were kickin’ some ass.”
Jace hoped to change the focus from himself to Eric. It usually worked to dissuade prying. Especially with Eric, attention whore extraordinaire.
“I had no choice but to learn to fight. I was shuffled from foster home to foster home for fifteen years. I didn’t get the benefit of being matched with a sponsor who wanted to help kids or make a healthy family. They were all just looking for an easy paycheck. Half of them didn’t even feed me.” He shrugged, his blue eyes brightening as he effortlessly abandoned thoughts of his past. Jace wished he was capable of doing that. “Knocking heads together is fun though, right?”
Fun? No, not really. Validating? Yeah, totally. “I guess. What started that fight anyway?”
“You didn’t see that bouncer put Sed in a choke hold? He didn’t even release him when I told him he was a professional singer. I had to deck him one.”
Jace would have probably decked him one too. Sed’s voice was one of those things that made Sinners so unique. Jace smiled slightly. “I’m glad we kicked their asses then.”
“We should go rehearse.” Eric launched to his feet. “Our set is about half the length it usually is. I just know I’ll end up kicking off with the intro to ‘Twisted’ when I should be playing ‘Good-bye Is Not Forever.’”