Lunchtime Chronicles: Naked Sushi - Page 2

So, the Dragon put me on the case.

It took me a few months, but I realized an important clue. All the victims went to the same spa for a pedicure and had the same nail artist. He was a man known for placing glittery rainbows on toes.

Footman.

The hunt continued. We tried to grab him at the spa. He fled. We discovered his apartment. Rotting feet filled his closets.

I also found a metal box filled with polaroids, displaying cut-off body parts with the victims’ names written in blue, red, and yellow. Further investigation showed that there were three different handwritings. None belonged to Archer. It appeared he had pen pals.

Last week, Archer escaped Japan by stealing a business man’s yacht and identity. That was how he received an invitation to Meade’s party.

And now Footman is searching for pretty feet.

Ali took out his phone and checked the screen. “They said he’s trying to take the woman in the back for a private dance.”

“Tell them to keep a close eye on him.” I picked up my pace. “I won’t have any more victims.”

Ali typed into his phone.

It took us five minutes to get to the white room. Ali opened the door. A lavender glow filled my vision. Moans sounded from the distance.

We rounded the corner.

Okay.

A sea of naked men and women greeted my eyes. Most kept their masks on, but their costumes and gowns had been scattered across the floor. Sex flooded the space. Their bodies shone wet and slick. Ankles rose in the air. Toes pointed to the ceiling. Mouths spread open and made the lushest sounds. Breasts bounced and fat bottoms jiggled.

Everywhere I turned was sex. Every sound I heard was ecstasy.

My cock jerked in my pants. In the end, I was a man after all.

I turned my head and spotted two men playing with the same woman’s pussy. One rubbed her clit with his fingers. The other toyed with her nipples. And she wriggled in pleasure.

My ego told me I could have done better than the both of them.

Time to concentrate on the mission.

I searched for Footman in the crowd.

Instead, a dancer captured my gaze. Instantly mesmerized me.

What a lovely surprise.

The whole room was themed in white, yet she dripped in crimson red. Rubies hugged her voluptuous breasts. A feathered skirt flowed around her waist and brought out the richness of her brown skin. Her diamond shoes shimmered with each turn. She danced around the stage resembling a graceful swan.

Surely, she intended to cast spells. And that was what occurred. An awestruck thrill shot through my chest. I felt my blood carrying hot lust to my heart along with the oxygen and nutrients my body required, shifting my primal needs to more than food and breathing.

Basically, I really wanted to fuck her.

Her beauty disarmed me.

I returned my gaze up to her breasts. They bounced with her movement. My cock stiffened.

The mission left my mind.

Entranced, I watched her for several seconds, holding my breath.

And her gaze landed on me. Even among the sea of humping bodies. Even among the men surrounding the stage and drooling over her.

She looked my way and opened her mouth as if overcome by a blush.

My cock liked that.

Ali gestured in her direction. “This is the dancer that’s caught Footman’s attention.”

No. Not her.

I checked the space next to her.

There, Footman sat, gawking at her feet.

Instantly, I yearned to be her chivalrous knight, protect her from the villain, and be his deadly nightmare—the dark storm that swallows him up.

Ali leaned my way. “What do you want us to do, sir?”

I kept my attention on Archer. “Grab and carry him off without startling her or disrupting the orgy.”

Ali left with my men.

I returned to her. Still swirling her hips, the dancer’s gaze followed my people. Her eyes told me she knew something was up.

You’re a smart one. On guard and perceptive.

None of the other dancers appeared attentive. They were too focused on the money falling to the ground.

I smiled.

I will taste her when the mission is done.

1

The Handsome Stranger

Layla

T

his handsome man walked in and towered over everyone. Full lips and tanned skin. Short midnight hair and a seducing grin. His face suggested Asian descent. And he had the sort of cheekbones that made me want to kiss them. Stick my tongue out and lick them. Pull my panties down and rub my pussy on his jaw until I orgasmed all over his face.

Damn.

No man had ever triggered such filthy thoughts.

The way the other guys surrounded him, suggested they were his guards. He was some sort of boss.

And he watched as he walked forward, exuding cold, deadly confidence.

It was hard to keep dancing.

He looked like he was thinking about taking my gown off. Like his mouth wanted to spin and turn with me. Like his cock craved to twirl all night.

Tags: Kenya Wright Romance
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