“Looks pretty good to me,” Nash chuckled.
Fairchild punched his arm.
“That’s not what I mean, dumbass. There’s no way we’re going to be able to top what they’re doing out there.”
“Don’t worry,” Reece soothed into her other ear. “You’ve already caught Slayn’s eye.”
Dutton didn’t say anything. He was standing right behind her, still and steadfast as a pillar of stone. Fairchild leaned back into him for support.
Maybe, she thought.
Maybe…
But who was to say she was the only target Slayn had his eye on? For all she knew, the creep had sent champagne and roses to every team in the competition. And even if she was the only one who had grabbed his attention, that didn’t guarantee she’d be able to hold it. She was in grave danger of getting overshadowed.
She tossed a glance in Slayn’s direction. He had his opera glasses pressed to his eyes as he watched the performance with laserlike intent. Fairchild couldn’t see the blonde anymore, but she had a feeling the woman was still in the box with Slayn, on her knees and working.
Fairchild frowned and leaned back into Dutton.
The second team was even more devastating than the first.
“The hell?” Nash whispered as the performance neared its climax. “What are they doing?”
Fairchild had been wondering the same thing. She watched as the three male performers lay down on their backs and wove their legs together in a complex, triangular pattern that brought all three of their pelvises into alignment. After a bit of graceful maneuvering, their three massive erections were pressed together in a single, thick column of flesh.
The fourth and final member of the team, a petite little female, moved into position above the supine men. She took a wide stance. A hush fell over the crowd.
“No way,” Fairchild whispered. “Shecan’t…”
She did.
As Fairchild and her teammates watched in silent astonishment, the woman slowly crouched, lowering herself onto the three hard cocks below her. In spite of her small size, she seemed to accept them with ease, her pussy stretching to accommodate the triple girth of her partners.
The crowd erupted into a roar of applause. In his box above the stage, Slayn set down his opera glasses so he could add his hands to the ovation.
Fairchild cursed under her breath.
She and her guys had been planning to improvise their performance, but it was clear that wasn’t going to cut it. If she wanted to hold Slayn’s attention, she was going to have to think of something, and fast.
What though?
She remembered the briefing. Slayn liked strong women. He liked to dominate them.
And he was a weapons dealer. That meant he had a taste for violence. Power dynamics. Control.
Fairchild turned and started to walk, heading deeper into the backstage area.
“Hey!” Reece hissed behind her. “Where are you going?”
Fairchild didn’t answer. She just stomped ahead, looking for the wardrobe area she’d seen a few minutes earlier when they had first arrived backstage. In addition to competitions like this one, the theater hosted a whole variety of live entertainment for Calyxia’s guests. Showgirls. Erotic magic. Full-length dramatic plays with real sex scenes. Musicals.
Fairchild pushed through the door of the wardrobe department and barged inside. A couple of dressers were sharing a narco stick, and they started to protest, but as soon as they saw the three big men who were with her, they changed their minds.
Fairchild marched over to one of the racks and started rifling through the costumes. It didn’t take her long to find something that might work. A leather jacket embellished with chains and pointed studs. The type a back-alley bruiser might wear. She turned and held it up in front of Reece’s frame.
“Think this’ll fit you?” she asked.
Reece cocked one brow. “Care to explain what this is all about?”
