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Chapter Eleven
Fetish-wear shopping alone had always given Cammie a thrill, but fetish-wear shopping with a lover? Unstoppable shivers all over. The little boutique store had a surprising selection of outfits and costumes that had all titillated her, but she’d gone with a more traditional look, if there was such a thing, for both her and Zane…leather and metal. Not real leather, of course, which would have cost a fortune, but the clothing was very well made and the outfits both she and Zane had settled on fit like they were destined for them.
Zane tugged at the black paneled kilt that came mid-thigh on him and showcased his muscular legs. “You’re sure this doesn’t look ridiculous?”
Cammie appraised him with every ounce of lust she felt blasting out of her eyes. “Oh, hell no!” From the moment he’d put on the kilt, her pussy had been on fire and aching for his cock. “You look like a beast, a warrior.”
He’d pushed back on the fishnet shirt as well as the alternative leather strap getup that would have framed his chest exquisitely and instead had opted for a gray linen shirt that seemed to be missing almost all its buttons. It did little to cover his upper body, but did, indeed, give him a rough-and-tumble Highlander look. Zane had it tucked into the kilt like he was in some kind of weird prep-school. She closed the gap between them then tugged one side of the shirt out while at the same time slipping her other hand over his pec to tease his nipple.
Zane growled and attempted to scoop her up, but she slipped away quickly, dancing just out of reach. “Don’t you want to see my outfit?”
She’d put on his bathrobe before exiting his restroom, partly because she wanted to keep her outfit a surprise until the last possible minute and partly because the idea of wearing it in public was giving her heart a bit of a flutter. Sure, she’d worn fetish wear before but nothing even close to this. As soon as she’d seen the dress, she’d known immediately that Zane would love it, and she’d plucked it off the rack before he could see what she’d found.
“Hell yes! Show me.” His eyes shone with a hunger that made Cammie’s whole body quiver.
Her fingers trembled as she undid the tie around her waist then sucked in a deep breath before letting the robe slide off her shoulders to pool at her feet.
Zane took her all in. His eyes went from the tight collar encircling her throat to the way the leather corset squeezed and lifted her tits so that her nipples were almost peeking over the edge of the bodice. He trailed his gaze over the ribbon that did a very poor job of holding the front closed—one tug and she’d burst out—then he continued on to slide over her cinched waist to the impossibly tight and short lower half of the dress, which didn’t even come close to covering her whole ass. She had on a black lace thong, so it definitely looked like she had no panties on at all, followed by fishnets. She had yet to slip on her black heels, which would put her somewhere in the range of Zane’s shoulders, but as it was, Zane shifted his incendiary gaze right back up her body, leaving behind a trail of steam that made Cammie feel like the sexiest woman alive.
“I’m not sure you’re going to make it through the night with that dress on.” Zane did another sweep of her body and she practically melted all over again. He swooped in, hands on her ass, cupping her cheeks, his chest pressed to her tits and hovering his lips over hers. “I hope you’re okay with PDL, because I’m not going to be able to help myself.”
“PDL?” She gasped as he nipped her bottom lip.
“Public displays of lust,” he growled before kissing her so fiercely and thoroughly that when he abruptly stopped, her head had jettisoned into space with her body floating slowly after it.
“Yes. Totally okay with that,” she gasped out.
He squeezed her ass cheeks hard before letting go. “We should head to this party before I do something to completely derail our investigation.” He opened the door of his cabin then offered his arm for her to take.
She giggled as she slipped her heels on then clasped his arm, her heart nearly bursting from all the adrenaline coursing through her body. She wasn’t quite sure when it had happened, but somehow Zane had invaded her completely and she couldn’t imagine this vacation slash murder mystery without him.
And she had no idea what she was going to do when it was time to let him go.
* * * *
The Whips and Chains Party was exactly what Cammie expected it to be—chaos wrapped up in leather, PVC, latex and a whole lotta skin. The Sky Deck had been transformed from sun umbrellas and beach vibes to an open-air dungeon, complete with cages for brave souls to dance inside, contortionists and acrobats swinging from black-and-red ribbons, sexy servers covered in body paint and nothing else and pounding music that thudded through Cammie’s body. A lot of people were dressed similarly to Cammie and Zane, and a few wore masks, which Cammie realized would make it difficult for them to actually identify Salis among the crowd. Luckily for their investigation, each guest was required to wear a name tag to help with breaking the ice, or so it was explained to them when they were asked to find their own on a table with hundreds of magnetic name tags.
“Miss Sheppard!” A familiar voice pulled Cammie’s focus from the growing crowd of dancers to a tall, slim, totally fetished-out version of her steward, Ben. “You look so awesome!! I love that dress on you!”
“Wow, Ben, you look amazing!” Cammie meant it too. Ben was completely transformed from his charming, boyish steward persona into a five-inch heel, flowing purple and blue wig, wild makeup super Queen. He was wearing a snug PVC dress with a chain belt that encircled his waist, neck and wrists, linking them together with enough give to allow him to move while still restricting him to some extent. He couldn’t lift his arm completely up to wave, but he could flutter his hand in a gesture that looked like a greeting.
“I didn’t think you’d recognize me.” He was somewhat out of breath once he finally tottered his way to her. The heels were impressive but gave him height where he hadn’t needed it, so instead of simply being tall, he was now towering like a skyscraper over Cammie.
She wouldn’t have recognized Ben if she hadn’t heard him before she’d seen him. “I didn’t know that stewards could moonlight as party Queens.”
“We don’t, usually. I’m just lucky, I guess.” Ben grinned like this was an opportunity of a lifetime. “One of the event crew didn’t show, so they asked me if I’d like to join the party and of course I said yes! Absolutely yes! I’ve been waiting for a chance to show my stuff to Sherri…er…Ms. Bolt. And I’d do just about anything for her. She’s so amazing! I mean, I might have planted the seed already, to anyone who would listen really, that my dream job would be to be part of the event crew—”
“Sorry to interrupt, Ben, but did you say you’re filling in for another member of the crew?” Zane stepped forward so he could be part of the conversation. “Great outfit, by the way.”
“You, too! Love the kilt.” Ben beamed. “And yes, Frankie was a no-show. Probably barfing his guts out below deck. He’s a bit of a drinker.” Ben covered his mouth and cringed. “Sorry… I shouldn’t have told you that.”
“I hope he’s okay,” Cammie said with exaggerated concern. “Do you think he got himself to the infirmary?”
“Frankie? Unlikely, he’s probably just sleeping it off in our cabin.” A voice crackled through the earpiece Ben was wearing, distracting him from their conversation.
“You bunk with him?” Zane asked once Ben refocused on them.
“Uh, yeah, me, Frankie, Clem and Roberto, the Queens from cabin ten. Woo!” Ben tried to pump his arm but only managed to elbow himself because of the chains. “It was nice chatting with you both, but I have to go! Duty calls!”
