Take Me

Chapter Eleven: Bacchanal

Later that night, Milo adjusted the black domino mask that stretched across his eyes. He had reluctantly agreed to attend a party downtown with Tommy, who insisted Milo needed a night out. That he had been moping around the apartment when he wasn’t at work. Annoyed, and wanting to prove the manwhore wrong, Milo put on his best tux and got into the town car sent for them.

According to Tommy, they were shutting down one of the hottest clubs for the night to accommodate the party. A masquerade of sorts. Not many people could do that. It would take a considerable amount of money. Which was why the invite Tommy got was the hottest ticket in town.

Besides proving he wasn’t moping, Milo had agreed out of morbid curiosity. Because of his job, he attended countless parties, but nothing so secretive. Where they were going had a clandestine quality to it that attracted him. The invite was black with elaborate white calligraphy printed on the thinnest vellum he had ever seen.

“Stop fidgeting,” Tommy murmured from beside him in the dark backseat of the car. He reached out and squeezed Milo’s thigh.

Instead of calming him down, the touch made him jolt. There was a certain intimacy that came from being surrounded by a blanket of inky shadow. Images of his kiss with Kaz in a different backseat on a different night bombarded his mind. The scent of him still haunted Milo. He craved Kaz’s taste and the warmth of his mouth. And the touch of his tongue.

Not wanting to give his friend the wrong idea, Milo eased his thigh away and said, “I’m just excited. This is the first time I’m ever going to something like this.”

Tommy snorted. “Surely you’ve gone to a masquerade party before.”

“Yeah, but nothing like this. Look.” He lifted the invitation despite the gloom. “It doesn’t crumple. Isn’t that the coolest thing?”

“You’re such a little kid.”

“A little kid who wants to know what this is made of because I’m sure Cassandra would love to use it for invites to her events.”

Tommy snatched the invitation away. “Tonight is about letting loose, not work.”

Milo pouted, crossing his arms like a chastised five-year-old. “Well sue me for wanting to be good at what I do.”

“There’s good and there’s anal. All you think about is work.” A heavy pause. “Or that guy.”

His ears pricked at the insinuation. “That guy means nothing to me.”

The lie slipped out against the proclamations of his brain to shut the hell up.

“Right.”

Even in the darkness, he could see the silhouette of Tommy shaking his head. Milo squeezed his mouth shut. Of course, he had been preoccupied with thoughts of Kaz. He didn’t have his number. He had no way of contacting him. And he would rather die than use the Rebel database to search for contact info. All he knew was the guy’s address, but like hell would he find himself going there.

And if he did go, what then?

They were little more than strangers to one another. Forget the fact that Milo spent an entire day researching the man. All the articles about him were puff pieces. He wasn’t on any social media. No information floated around about his private life. Besides the tabloid stuff that included him and Tommy, there was absolutely nothing about Kazuhiko Yukifumi out there that didn’t seem intentional. It was like the guy didn’t exist.

In no time, he slid back into Mopey Land. Tommy was right. He needed a night to forget about that mysterious and often infuriating man who managed to worm his way into Milo’s life. His mother had been right too. He needed to tread with caution. It wasn’t just his reputation on the line. There was Tommy’s, his mother’s, and his father’s most of all. Archibald McLaren was a very private, very important man. In fact, he might even know who Kaz was, but Milo refused to think that far. The last thing he would ever do was go to his father for information about a man he might be infatuated with. It was a passing fling, nothing more.

Just when he couldn’t take being in his head any longer, the car eased to a stop. Tommy got out first and rounded the car to open Milo’s door. Milo smiled in silent thanks as he stepped onto the curb. Then they both headed toward Diablo. The sexy she-devil neon sign flashed red, welcoming patrons in with a sly smile and a wave of her tail.

They approached a large black man wearing an impeccably tailored suit and a red demon half-mask. Tommy handed him the invite. The man took out a lighter and set a corner on fire. In seconds, the invitation burst into flames and vanished. Milo couldn’t help but be impressed like a kid attending his first magic show.

The big man stepped aside and waved them in. Tommy gave him a nod then led the way. Afraid of getting lost, and totally not wanting to be alone, Milo trailed behind him closely. The double doors were opened by two women dressed in lingerie. They took their coats and gestured for them to continue on down a red lit corridor to another door.

“What exactly is this party again?” Milo whispered as he walked side by side with a grinning Tommy who sported a jester’s mask that covered the upper half of his face.

“You’ll see.” He winked as he opened the door.

Milo found himself stepping into a raised balcony that looked down at the main club floor. His eyes widened. Naked men and women hung from silk canopies from the ceiling, performing contortions and acrobatic dances that seemed to defy gravity.

At one corner were metal poles were women in various stages of undress danced for seated men in tuxes and masks. At another corner were large divans where people were actually having s*x while others watched—men and women alike, all holding champagne flutes. The massive bar had bare men and women lying on the top so attendees could partake in body shots. Then there was the stage where another group of men and women stood. In front of each of them was an easel with a piece of paper and pen.

Milo turned toward Tommy and hissed, “You brought me to a s*x party?”

“People here prefer to call it a Bacchanal,” his friend said nonchalantly. He also took in the entire area with the assessing eye of someone who wasn’t a stranger to these events.

“An orgy by any other name!” Milo balled his fingers into fists at his sides. “This after my mother told me to take care of my reputation. What if someone recognizes—”

Tommy interrupted him by tapping his mask. “That’s what these are for. This is a private party. Why do you think the invitation is burned before you enter? Everyone here is on the same boat as you. No one will say anything. Complete anonymity. Think of it like being in Las Vegas.”

“Whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,” Milo murmured. His previous anger and indignation lost some of its steam. “Still, I can’t say I’m comfortable with all this.”

“You’re free to leave,” Tommy whispered into his ear. His hot breath sent tingles up and down his body. “But I’m asking you not to. Have some fun tonight.”

Taking a deep breath, Milo noticed a sweetness in the air that he hadn’t when they had first come in. “What’s that smell?”

“Just something to keep everyone relaxed.”

“Drugs!”

“Oh, Milo . . .” Tommy tsked at him. “Don’t be such a prude.”

He bristled. That was the second time that day he’d been called a prude. He said yes to the party—granted he didn’t know the details at the time—so he would make the most of it. Chalk it up to personal experience.

“Come on.” Tommy moved away from the banister. “Time for watching is finished. Let’s join the party. There’s an item I want to bid on.”

“So that is a silent auction.” Milo pointed at the stage none too discreetly.

“Best escorts in the business. A night with them can be mind-blowing.”

His handsome party date wound his way through the crowd and headed straight for a significantly hung man to the left of the stage. He scanned the bids and added his own at the end. Then he made eye contact and winked.

“Is there anyone you like?” Tommy asked. “You should put in a bid . . . drain some of that tension you’ve been walking around with.”

Milo’s shoulders hitched up at the insinuation that he was sexually frustrated. But as he scanned the auction items he couldn’t see himself sleeping with any of them regardless of their supposed talents in bed. There was only one person . . .

He shook his head the instant Kaz’s face entered his mind.

“I think I’ll pass,” he said.

“Suit yourself.” Tommy led them to the bar. He pointed at the defined abs of the man stretched out before them. “Body shot?”

“Uhm . . .”

But before Milo could refuse, a shot of tequila was shoved into his hand. He was never one to turn down a free drink. So at the count of three, he threw back the liquid fire then licked off the salt on the man’s hip. The guy smiled at him suggestively after Milo straightened. A scarlet blush burned across Milo’s face. Thank goodness for the mask covering the tops of his cheeks.

“Another one?” Tommy offered.

He waved both hands to ward off the offering. “I think I’ll need something to eat first. Don’t want to get slobbering drunk too fast.”

Tommy pointed at the buffet table lining one wall. Milo nodded and made his way to the spread, passing servers who were made to wear leather straps and nothing else and partygoers already buckets into their alcohol and whatever else they were serving that night. Considering all the s*x happening around him, he wanted his wits intact. The chances of someone taking advantage of him were high. Like astronomically. If he was going by all the lewd glances being thrown his way. He figured if he stayed away from more booze and pills he would be fine.

When he reached the table, the food seemed normal enough. A rack of lamb. A whole roasted pig with an apple in its open mouth. Bowls and bowls of cherries for some reason. There were chocolate covered strawberries. Oysters on a bed of salt and ice. Shrimp cocktail. But, just to be safe, he picked up a cube of cheese skewered on a colorful toothpick and popped it into his mouth then dropped the used toothpick into a bowl set aside for them.

“Is that all you’re having?” someone asked from behind him.

Milo whirled around to face a woman in a red sequined gown that looked painted on. A black feather mask covered most of her face except for her ruby lips, which were currently smirking at him. She reached for a stack of chocolates. Her arms were covered in silk gloves past her elbows. She picked up one cube and traced the seam of Milo’s mouth with it. He could already taste the sweetness of the confection without having it on his tongue.

“Open up,” she purred.

Unable to refuse since it would mean opening his mouth anyway, and shaking his head just seemed rude, Milo did as he was told. As soon as the cube landed on his tongue, the chocolate melted. He didn’t even need to chew.

She hummed in pleasure. “Good, huh?”

“Yes,” he said.

She gave him her half-full champagne flute and Milo took it gratefully, swallowing the rest of its contents in one swig. It might not have been the smartest decision to be taking a drink from the glass of a complete stranger, but the chocolate left a mediciney aftertaste that he wanted to get rid of. It was like drinking cough syrup but sweeter.

Then, almost instantly, his heart began to pound and his skin burned from the inside. He staggered backward. The only reason why he didn’t fall was the buffet table, which he used for support. He covered his mouth with his other hand when his vision doubled and his breathing became ragged.

“What the hell did you give me?” he managed to say between pants.

The woman giggled. “You seemed like you needed to loosen up. It’s one of the best aphrodisiacs on this table. Fast acting. From the looks of you, it’s already working.”

The moment she said aphrodisiac, Milo’s c**k hardened to the point of pain. He groaned. This was the last time he was trusting Tommy to take him anywhere.

Using what little strength he had left, he shoved the woman away and moved to the stairs. Instead of screaming, the woman actually laughed. Milo didn’t bother looking back. He had to get out of there.

With each agonizing step, his heart leaped into his throat. Its beats were so strong it drowned out the music being piped into the party. Damn it. What was happening to him?

He staggered to the door and hurried as best he could down the hall to the entrance, keeping one shoulder against the wall the entire time to keep from falling over. He knew if he fell he wouldn’t be able to get up without someone relieving the strain between his legs.

At the double doors, he waved away the woman scrambling to find his coat. He stumbled out of the club and breathed in the bracing night air. Winter still lingered despite the lack of snow. But the cold did little to alleviate the lava flowing through his veins. He hugged himself and bent over. So much pain. He thought he was losing his mind from it.

The bouncer whistled and a cab stopped at the curb. The guy must have taken pity on him because he guided Milo to the waiting car. A single touch sent sparks all over his body. But he gritted his teeth through it just so he could get away. He rattled out an address off the top of his head after he was eased into the backseat.