Private Paris (Private 10)

The truth was that they were looking for someone. Ten minutes later, they spotted her at the satellite bar upstairs, drinking a salt-and-pepper martini. In her forties, with short silver hair and a long, lithe body clad in a pearl-colored pantsuit, she was watching a writhing group of people in a room with glass walls.

“Ready?” Amé asked.

Mfune nodded. “Let’s do this.”

They sidled up next to her and ordered drinks. It didn’t take long for the woman to take her eyes off the orgy and glance their way. The instant she did, she turned fully toward them as Amé had suspected she would. Based on her surveillance, she knew that the woman liked black men and bisexual white women.

“My, my,” the woman said. “And who might you two be?”

Amé pursed lips glossed ruby red and smiled. “Lynette and Nico. And you?”

“Lourdes,” she said. “I’ve never seen you here before. First time?”

“First time for Nico,” Amé said, squeezing Mfune’s hand. “Not for me. I used to come here regularly with my lipstick girlfriends.”

“I’ve done that too,” Lourdes said softly as she raised one eyebrow. “So fun.”

The captain said, “You’re quite beautiful, Lourdes.”

“And you, Nico, are the definition of a man’s man.”

“You have no idea,” Amé said mischievously.

Lourdes’s eyebrow went up again. “C’est vrai?”

“Shockingly true,” Amé said, and pressed back languidly against Mfune, who beamed to expose that gold tooth.

“I must say, you two have made me rather breathless,” Lourdes said, setting her drink down and fanning her face. “And my skin—look. It’s gooseflesh.”

“We could solve that,” Amé said, “and any other problem you have.”

“And I yours,” Lourdes said, beaming. “Shall we go someplace private?”

Chapter 42

LOURDES TRIED TO lead them into the dungeon, but Mfune said he’d feel better in one of the tents. Amé found an empty one at the back of the club.

She let Lourdes and the captain enter the tent first. Glancing about, she saw no one else in the immediate vicinity—at least not in the visible vicinity. As Amé let down the flaps and tied them shut, she heard the smack of a paddle on flesh from the tent to the left, and cries of orgasm to their right.

She turned and saw the king-size bed with fresh sheets, and the sex swing above it hanging from a cable that ran down through a hole in the tent peak. Lourdes was finishing the last of her drink and eyeing Mfune hungrily.

“Do you like textures, Lourdes?” Amé asked, sinuously stroking her black gloves one against the other.

“I like everything,” Lourdes said. “Engage my body. Engage my mind.”

“I guess that’s a yes.”

“It’s a definite yes,” Lourdes purred. “What did you have in mind?”

“We want to worship you,” Amé said.

“You’re our goddess tonight,” Mfune said.

“You don’t know how right you are,” Lourdes said huskily, as the captain moved behind her and pressed his hips against her back. She trailed her hand along the side of his leg.

Amé sandwiched the woman. She and Mfune caressed Lourdes through her clothes until she was trembling with desire.

“Show us how beautiful the goddess is,” Amé said, standing back.