Chapter 11

Chapter

Eleven

I'm wearing sandals and a robe that's so sheer I may as well be naked—not that I'd offer. My anxiety reached level ten five minutes ago, and I'm ready to go feral if someone tries to remove it. I follow Zed as he escorts me out of The Oasis and onto the grounds. We're joined by dozens of Novices, Acolytes, and a few squires. I spy Piper standing next to a woman in a white uniform and wave to her. She gives me a nervous smile and then turns her attention to her squire. Horns blare in the distance, and I hear something come over a loudspeaker, but we're too far away to make it out.

"What's going on?"

Zed leans in. "You and the other new Novices are being announced."

Oh, just what I've been hoping for. Being the center of attention. Yay me.

"With every new crop, the residents gather to welcome you and look you over. This is your chance to catch the eye of a Master or Maven. Games will follow. "

"Games?"

He looks at me quizzically. "Don't you watch online?"

Shit. Lily was right. I should've renewed my subscription before coming here so I'd know what I was in store for. "Not for a year or so."

Zed laughs. "I would enlighten you, but I think your genuine reactions will be endearing, and I don't want to spoil the Masters' fun. Being new, you will not participate in any of the more salacious games. Consent must be established before you entertain anything of that sort. But you'll get an eyeful tonight. Perhaps you'll see something you'd like to try in the future."

I grimace, my imagination running wild with dildos and lube. What kinds of games do adults play with an audience cheering them on? Certainly not football. My memory dredges up terms like receiver and tight end. Could it be? Fuck. I really wish I'd taken Lily's advice.

The crowd of Novices and Acolytes begins to move as though drawn by the voice on the loudspeaker. Zed leans in and informs me that I'm entering the portion of the island online viewers can see. Great.

We file into a large arena filled with tables and chairs. Five pedestals are randomly placed among the hundred or so spectators, all of whom are wearing caftans, sarongs, or some flowing frippery. These are the Masters and Mavens of Pleasure Island, gathered to see the new crop of Novices. Madame Solara sits at a table on a raised dais. Put a crown on her head, and she'd look like royalty. Unlike the others, she wears a colorful pareo with geometric patterns tied just above her ample breasts.

Cheers ring out as Piper, Nick, Brad, Jolene, and I are pulled from the crowd and propelled to the pedestals scattered around the arena. Zed stops at one and slips off my sheer robe and sandals. I reach for the fabric, but he's too fast, whipping it behind his back.

Oh my fucking God! Am I supposed to stand up there like a Greek statue? He and another squire lift me onto the pedestal without giving me a chance to balk. It's white marble at the height of tabletops throughout the arena. My arms twitch with the urge to cover my nakedness, but what's the point? My boobs would pop out from between my hands anyway. If this were the Westminster Dog Show, I'd be the Mastiff. Kind of hard to miss.

The other Novices and Acolytes spread out along the perimeter of the arena, forming a wall of naked bodies. Madame Solara stands and raises her arms. The entire arena falls silent.

In a commanding voice that carries across the space, she says, "Welcome, Novices. You have taken your first step on a journey that will awaken your sexuality and test your limits. How far you go in the Pleasure Academy is entirely up to you. Let the night's festivities be your first initiation," she pauses and sweeps her eyes across the arena, landing for a moment on the five of us, "but not the last. Masters. Mavens. Greet our newest members and give their squires a token for any who interest you."

A token? What the fuck is she talking about? Regret for not adequately preparing myself multiplies like the demonic dust bunnies under my sofa. I want to ask Zed what she means, but people are getting out of their chairs and circulating among the pedestals, at least a dozen fixing their eyes on me .

I suck in a breath and clench my teeth. It'll be worth it. I can do this. Focus, Eden. Keep your eye on the prize. Pages and Pastries. Pages and Pastries. It becomes a hum, drowning out the din that's growing louder every second.

Pagesandpastriespagesandpastriespagesandpastries.

Avoiding the faces of the milling people surrounding me, I fix my eyes on the dais, where Madame Solara surveys the arena like a smutty empress. She smiles and nods to the man at her right, and every now and then, her sharp eyes flick across the scene laid out before her. They land on me, then shift, though I can feel the weight of her perusal in that brief moment. Forcing my heart rate to slow, I ball my hands and pull air in and out of my lungs in a steady rhythm.

As my body relaxes, as much as it can in these weird-ass circumstances, pride in my ability to pull my shit together fills my head. The moment is fleeting, shattered into a million pieces, when I feel a hand run up my leg toward my ass.

I spin around and find a woman with long, brown hair leaning over the lip of the pedestal to extend her reach. I don't think about my reaction. My hand flies at the same time I shout, "What the fuck?"

The smack of my hand against hers cuts through the noise. One moment, people are chatting with oohs and ahs, and the next, a bubble of silence surrounds me. Shit.

The woman glances at her hand, then up at me, a slow smile spreading across her face. "Oh, she's a spitfire!" Digging into a floral wristlet, she pulls out a copper token and slips it into Zed's hand.

My squire takes the coin and tucks it into his pocket with a nod of approval. The brunette gives me another once over, then winks and drifts toward Brad, who stands on a pedestal a few tables over.

The remaining Masters and Mavens around my platform study me with renewed interest. More than one drops a token in Zed's hand. My chest is heaving, sweat running in tiny rivers down my face, between my boobs, and down my back to the crack in my ass. There's no way I'm regaining my cool.

Panic flutters, first in my chest, where my heart pounds, then in my mind like a dull buzzing. I can't do this. I'm going to faint. Swinging my eyes to Zed, I try to get his attention, desperation making me tremble. Black spots dot my vision and I start to sway, but he's so busy talking to one of the Masters that he doesn't see my body pitch forward.

The ground fills my vision as I tumble. Startled gasps erupt as I free-fall, but my face never slams into the grassy arena. Somehow, he's there, catching me before I hit the ground with the full force of gravity pulling my mass toward the earth. My vision blurs as he turns me over, cradling my head. He's just as devastatingly handsome as I remember. Dark hair. Dark eyes. He's wearing an unbuttoned shirt again. Does he not know how to use a button? Full, sensuous lips twitch in a half-smile as I fumble for words and mutter gibberish.

Way to go, Eden. Fall off a pedestal, buck naked, into the arms of the hottest guy you've ever seen, and you can't even manage a coherent thank you. I fight it when my body decides to shut down. My lashes flutter, and I strain against the darkness, but it's trying to consume me. God, I wish this mystery man would consume me. Wait. What the fuck am I saying? I want to lift my arms and touch his face to ensure he's real, but I can't raise them. They're numb, dead weights anchored to the ground. I make a mewling noise that ends in a grumble of frustration. He tilts his head, studying me, and at that moment, I see his eyes glow with a possessive light.

What does that mean?

Blackness swamps my vision, blurring his handsome face. Fuck it. I surrender.