Infamous

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Authors: Nicole Camden
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that the camera’s eye had shifted, Kim moved so that she could catch the young woman’s expression. She seemed pale, even beneath her makeup, and her eyes were fixed on the feathers. “Reminds me of the strip club,” Lille muttered. No one else heard her, but Kim knew the camera had picked up her comment. She’d said “the” strip club, not “a” strip club, so Kim knew she was talking about a particular one. She filed the information away as interesting—she wouldn’t have pegged Lille for a stripper; she seemed too fine.
    Like a little kid, Jordan did as he was told, stripping down to a pair of red bikini briefs. He seemed both gleeful, as if he was getting away with something and casting looks Kim’s way, and vulnerable, his shoulders curling in a little. He had a hard-on, but Kim tried to keep the camera trained on his face, or his butt—they were both pretty red. He practically hugged the cross, throwing himself on it comically and humping it. Carl began buckling his wrists into the restraints.
    When it was done, Jordan hung there and laughed a little.
    Carl, Lille, and Kim stood for a moment, admiring the dragon tattoo that took up most of his back. It seemed to be a friendly dragon, with big green eyes and a flopping tongue like a Labrador’s. It surprised Kim to see it there—to realize that there was something about Jordan she hadn’t known. He threw himself at her mercilessly, or at least he threw his screwball self at her. She thought maybe she was glimpsing here the real Jordan, the one she caught sometimes—the one who was fierce but kind.
    â€œNice,” Kim said finally, and Jordan tried to turn around to look at her.
    â€œA compliment? Did she just say my back was nice?”
    Kim snorted and was about to tell him that skinny painted white boys didn’t do it for her, but Lille chose that moment to step close to him, her hand on his shoulder.
    Lille trailed the cat over his back from one shoulder blade to the other, letting the suede knots run over him. He shivered as she purred, “Not your back, darling.” Then she took a step away, drawing her arm back at the same time, and lashed him; his flesh seemed paler now in between the light red stripes that were forming.
    He gasped and pressed himself against the cross.
    Lille leaned close and let her finger slide down one red welt. “She likes your dragon,” she explained, almost gently, and drew her arm back to lash him again.
    Kim, who’d been deliberately keeping her camera on Lille rather than on Jordan, was the first to notice that the big shepherd dog, Bambi, had stood and walked over to Lille.
    When she pulled back the whip, the dog jumped and caught it in her teeth, tugging Lille forward. Her beautiful face formed a startled “Oh,” and the big dog nearly managed to pull her off her heels.
    â€œBambi,” Lille ordered, her voice breathy with laughter and surprise, “drop it.”
    The dog, who was used to playing tug-of-war with Carl, held on and rolled her brown eyes in Carl’s direction, looking for an ally, or so it seemed to Kim.
    Carl was laughing too hard to help, however.
    â€œCarl, get ahold of yourself. Bambi”—Lille tugged on the whip, but she was still struggling not to laugh—“let it go.”
    Bambi dug in, her back haunches lifting, tail wagging.
    Jordan chose that moment to chime in; his voice sounded muffled since his face was pressed to the cross . . . or maybe he was laughing as well. Kim couldn’t tell over Carl’s snorts and howls. “You can’t sound like you’re laughing, or it won’t work.”
    Kim zoomed the camera in on Lille’s face, watched it change from laughing woman to woman who meant business. It was fascinating, as if Lille had the power to take her true self and hide it, shove it down in a box somewhere inside her. Kim wished she could do that, could

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