Chapter 16

Chapter

Sixteen

Life coach tip: Don't wear shoes when you're naked unless you want to feel more naked.

The only article of clothing I'm wearing when I arrive at the Neophyte Gala is a pair of sandals that look like something out of Gladiator. Of course, instead of a fight to the death in the Colosseum, it'll be a fight to keep my snark in check and my sandaled feet off a pedestal. As Zed ushers me into the dining room, a sea of gauzy white frocks and naked bodies, I hear Han Solo's voice in my head: I have a bad feeling about this .

With a nudge at my back, I'm prodded into the room toward a row of tables bearing silver trays of appetizers. I see Jolene and Brad, each laden with a tray of water glasses, and am immediately thankful I'm not carrying one of those, as I'd likely trip and spill it. I was absent the day they taught coordination and grace.

The hum of a couple hundred voices makes me claustrophobic as Zed points to a tray of cheese puffs. My palms are sweating, and all I want to do at that moment is dive into one of the flaky hors d'oeuvres and disappear in the warmth of tasty curds. My squire has other plans. Plus, I have no shrink ray.

Leaning in close, Zed reminds me of the purpose of the evening. "The night is yours, Eden. You've already established yourself as highly desirable. Now, you must capitalize on your growing reputation and capture the attention of the one who will pluck that blossom."

Great. More flower metaphors.

I nod and dart a glance to the entrance, relieved to see Piper making her way toward me. She gives a shaky smile, and her eyes skip around the room before landing on me again. Zed doesn't allow me to speak to her, ushering me to the nearest table. I give him a pleading look, but he shakes his head and draws away to stand with the other squires who line the walls.

"You look as tasty as those cream puffs," a male voice drawls, wrenching me back to my terrifying reality.

I give a nervous laugh and hold out the tray so quickly the food slides to the edge, threatening to spill onto his lap.

"Shit!" I reach out and push the hors d'oeuvres that suddenly look like a colony of lemmings about to jump off a cliff into the center of the tray.

"I'd much rather see your lap covered in these," he says, plucking one off the tray, "so I could eat my way through them to that delicious pussy."

My legs go watery as my mind conjures the image. I can't help watching his mouth as he slowly chews, jaw flexing beneath the hint of stubble lining his face. "I… um… guess it's a good thing you're not lactose intolerant."

He guffaws, eyes dancing, and motions to my squire, who quickly separates himself from the wall and joins me. "Lorenzo, I see you've met Eden."

"Indeed." He drops a token into Zed's hand. "I would like to explore your delectable Novice further."

My squire dips his head and slips the coin into his pocket.

A woman seated opposite Lorenzo waves me over. I turn and take a step, halting when I feel fingers trailing up my thigh to my ass. Whipping my head around, I find the owner of the hand and scowl at Lorenzo's handsome face. "Unless you want me to shove a handful of cheese puffs in your face, I suggest you take your hand off my ass."

He grins and holds up his hands like a criminal before a cop. "Oh, you are a treasure." Lorenzo slowly lowers his arms and rises, towering over me. It's difficult to ignore his groin, where the white sarong he's wearing tents from the pressure of his swollen shaft. He leans down, hovering just beyond my mouth. "I want you spread-eagled and tied to my bed so I could lick every inch of you."

My face flames and my pussy aches at the scenario he conjures, which is exactly what he wants. Not one to willingly play into someone's hands, I say, "If you want a lollipop, I suggest you go to the candy store."

Lorenzo laughs and shakes his head, facing my squire. "I must have her."

"Duly noted. Of course, the decision is ultimately hers." Nodding to the Master and the others seated at the table, Zed returns to his post, leaving me to the wolves.

The woman who'd gotten my attention before calls out, "Lorenzo, don't think you can lay claim to her so quickly. Come here, my darling, and let me have a look at you. "

In her forties, the woman is both lovely and experienced, qualities that show in her face and demeanor. She takes a cheese puff from the tray and pops it into her mouth, considering me as her mouth works. "You know, some come to the island claiming to be pure, but you can see the truth in their eyes. They try to project innocence, having forgotten what it means to be untouched. But you… you are truly unsullied, and that is what Lorenzo and others, I'm sure, find so alluring. I'd wager you knew little of the, uh, intricacies of the island before coming here. Am I right?"

I nod, unnerved that she sees me so clearly.

She claps her hands. "A blank canvas for a Master to mold. What a delicacy!"

Reluctant to give the wrong impression when she's been so decent, I say, "I'm not into women."

Her lips twitch. "Things change, my dear. Give it time, and who knows what you'll be into." She takes one more cheese puff and dismisses me.

I move to the next table, the skin between my shoulders itching with the weight of Lorenzo's stare. My tray eventually empties as I drift from table to table, trying my best not to get waylaid again. But roving hands seem to find my ass, and comments manage to summon sensual images with every group I meet. When I return to the appetizer-laden table to pick up a new tray, my face feels like it's been tattooed a permanent tomato-red, and my pussy is so wet it's threatening to drip down my thighs.

The main course is an eternity away, and my composure is on a knife's edge. Either I'm going to throw myself at the next man who whispers something erotic in my ear, or someone's leaving this gala with a black eye.

Piper sidles next to me. "Did you see the guy at the front table near Madame Solara?"

I shake my head. I've been working the rear of the room.

"He's so hot." She glances over her shoulder toward the front of the room. "And he's been watching you since we arrived."

I follow her gaze and find a pair of dark eyes staring back at me. It's Mr. GQ. My stomach tightens as his mouth curves into a seductive smile, teeth flashing against his swarthy skin.

"It's him," I whisper.

"Huh?" Piper picks up a tray and looks at me.

"Mr. GQ. I saw him the day we arrived. He's the one who caught me when I did a swan dive off the pedestal."

"Maybe you should offer to be his, uh, appetizer." She winks and makes her way to the back of the room, leaving me no choice but to work the front.

I select a tray of stuffed mushrooms and take a deep breath. I can do this. Offer him a mushroom and move on to another table, Eden. Easy peasy.

He follows my path to his table, eyes raking my body, making me feel exposed. Every jiggle of my boobs, tummy, and thighs feels infinitely stronger under the heat of his stare. I'm halfway to his table when a voice rips through my composure, deftly cutting out self-control with the precision of a surgeon.

"Don't think you can saunter by, ignoring me."

My hands shake as I turn my head and find Scarlett hailing me. Lifting my chin, I look at her with cool disdain. "If I thought you were worth stopping for, I would have."

And that's how I ended up pinioned in the center of the Neophyte Gala.