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“Because she’s not afraid to take what she wants.”
Heather’s lips stretch into a wide grin. “Samantha it is.” She reaches over, grabs my hand, and says, “Don’t worry, Makayla. I’ve got you.”
And though my head is swimming with a gallon of alcohol, I know she means it.
SEVEN
X
Iroll to a stop beside the call box and punch in the four-digit code. A moment later, the gate swings open and I continue up the driveway.
I’d always wanted to open my own club at some point, even while working for my father’s company. I traveled all over the country, attending one grand opening after another, and while I found each one more impressive than the next, they all had the same common denominators: music, flashing lights, and alcohol. I decided nightclubs were too much work, that the shine would eventually fade, and the patrons would move on to the next “it” club. I needed something more appealing.
A strict BDSM club was out because I knew nothing about the lifestyle. I enjoy kinky sex as much as the next guy, and though I have a dominant personality, I’m not a Dominant. My need for control is geared more toward the business aspect of my life.
So, ten years ago, I opened a private club where people with money and power come to play out their sexual fantasies, kinks, and fetishes.
A fantasy club.
Veil.
I park in one of the empty bays of the six-car garage and enter the mansion. Dim light spills into the hallway from the open door of Desiree’s office.
Her gaze lifts from her laptop as I walk inside and over to the bar. “What are you doing here?”
I snort, reaching for a glass to pour myself a drink. “Well, hello to you too. Last I checked, I still own this place.”
“Smartass. That’s not what I meant.”
Desiree and I met twelve years ago at a grand opening of a new club downtown. We hit it off instantly. She was hot, sexy, and uninhibited. We talked, laughed, drank, danced, and fucked around in the dark corners. Then we went back to her place and fucked six ways to Sunday.
She was very adventurous in the bedroom throughout our seven-year relationship. She loved to role-play and was open to anything and everything that could get her off.
She was my inspiration for Veil.
Drink in hand, I move over to the sofa and take a seat, kicking my feet up on the coffee table.
Turning her chair to the side, she props her arms on the rests and crosses one long, toned leg over the other. “Heather called,” she says. “She’s coming to the club tomorrow evening and bringing a friend.”
“Call her back and tell her I said no.”
“I’ve already told her yes.”
Leaning my head back, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “We have rules for a reason. Only members are allowed to bring guests. Heather is not a member.”
“I’m making an exception.” She smirks. “Last I checked, I’m the one in charge.”
Desiree has always had a soft spot for her one and only female friend, Heather, but her retort pisses me off. “You’re abusing your power,” I warn lightly.
Desiree’s head jerks back as if I’d slapped her, hurt flashing in her dark eyes.
Three years after I opened Veil, my father died tragically and unexpectedly. Unfortunately, I couldn’t keep up with running two businesses while taking care of my family. Desiree was my rock. She took over Veil while I worked endlessly on building my father’s empire. That left little time for a relationship, and Desiree needed attention. She lived in a fantasy world. While I was struggling with my new reality, our romantic relationship shifted into a partnership.
I confess, I found myself back in Desiree’s bed from time to time, but that fizzled out years ago. Despite that, she’s still my best friend, partner, and one of the few people I trust. She’s made a few decisions over the years that I wasn’t happy about, but then she broke my number one rule: never get romantically involved with a member or a potential member. For nearly seven years, she’s held the reins. And while she likes to play, she did so with her partner. Until he broke her heart.
When Victor showed up looking for a partner to feed his sexual appetite, Desiree dove in headfirst. While she wasn’t aware of my history with Victor, it didn’t change anything. She still broke the rules.
Bringing the glass to my lips, I eye her over the rim. “Have you heard from Victor?”
