Page 11 of Velvet Sin (Elite Men of Los Angeles #5)

ELEANOR

T hat was close.

Too close.

It would’ve taken nothing for him to lay me across that supple leather sofa and do whatever he wanted. I was right there, at that moment, ready to give in until the backs of my legs touched the leather and woke me up, reminding me this was real.

The man devouring my neck was the man who humiliated me and never once apologized.

My body didn’t give a damn either way. I was uncomfortably wet as we descended the stairs and still a little dizzy.

Probably because most of the blood that was supposed to power my brain had traveled south, swelling it, heating it, and making it seem completely logical to throw my pride and self-respect out the window.

No, thank you.

It was obvious he was not the man I thought he was. A sex club owner. Of all things I could have imagined him doing, that would’ve been at the bottom of the list. Not only that, but he ran high-quality establishments.

I knew that from experience, didn’t I? As freaked out as I was, visiting his club in LA, I felt safe. I knew nobody was going to hurt or use me. That was not the reason I had run.

Now that I knew who the man in the mask was, I was more relieved than ever that I made that choice. It was embarrassing enough, finding out I had let him take me to a private room where we would have done a lot of things I’d be mortified over by now.

At least I was the one who had walked away. I made the choice to desert him. It was amazing, the things I’d tell myself.

When we reached the lobby, which was now brightly lit, I gave myself a stern lecture.

The past was the past, and even what happened a few minutes ago counted as the past. We were not going to revisit this.

It would never happen again. I was not about to let him hurt me for a second time.

I was through letting men dictate my life, my happiness.

This job was a means to an end, and I would leave it behind just as soon as I could.

Temporary. It was what I had to keep telling myself for this to work.

“Eleanor, this is Chloe.” Somehow, Dante managed to sound slightly bored as he introduced me to the stunning blonde whose slicked-back bun and dramatic makeup left me feeling severely underprepared. She was the kind of girl who turned heads and inspired fantasies.

Meanwhile, I was a thirty-two-year-old divorcee who had to pep talk myself all day to gather enough courage to leave my apartment in the skimpiest dress I owned.

Chloe’s smile was a little hard, a little cold. “Right. Blake told me I’d have someone shadowing me tonight. It’s nice to meet you,” she concluded, thrusting a hand my way, her fingernails tipped in blood-red polish.

“Nice to meet you,” I offered, wondering if Dante had set me up to be hated.

After everything he’d told me so far, I assumed he must make prospective employees bend over backward to prove they were trustworthy.

He didn’t hire random people off the street.

Chloe was probably wondering what made it special enough to show up less than an hour from opening.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he told Chloe, refusing to look at me as he added, “Don’t take it easy on her.”

“This is all so sudden,” I confessed while watching him walk away. The prick had to get the last word in, and it was just as maddening now as it ever was. “But I learn fast.”

“You better because there’s no time for fuck-ups.” She crooked a finger, beckoning me to follow her behind the long, black counter. On the wall behind the counter, a single word was written in purple neon. “Kink,” I whispered, staring at the enormous letters.

“Short, snappy, something that will remain etched in everybody’s minds.” Chloe was already on the computer, nails tapping the keys.

“You seem like you know a lot about this business,” I said. Just stop talking, stupid .

She surprised me. “I’ve worked at one of Mr. West’s Los Angeles clubs the past year.

He brought me out here to make sure everything goes smoothly over the first week or two.

If I wanted to stay, I could, though now I’m wondering if that’s true since he hired you.

” Her side-eye glance made me want to shrivel up and die.

“I’m not trying to take your job, I promise.” Fuck him for putting me in this position. Even if he was trying to help, fuck him.

Soon, I was too busy learning how to use their system to think much about Chloe’s hurt feelings or my resentment toward my boss. My boss! What a disgusting idea, but the idea of living on the streets was much worse.

“We make a copy of their ID if this is their first visit,” Chloe explained.

“Which will be the case for pretty much everybody tonight except for a few VIPs who are familiar with the brand. It doesn’t matter how many times they’ve visited, we pull up the list of rules on our tablets, and they sign with their finger to agree.

” She handed me a tablet and showed me how to pull up the agreement.

It looked familiar since I scrolled my initials on it not that long ago.

No physical contact without consent. Consent can be withdrawn at any time.

No means no. If at any point the word ‘No’ is ignored, the guest responsible will forfeit the opportunity to return. In such cases, membership fees are non-refundable.

All cell phones and recording equipment will be stored in lockers, and owners will receive claim tickets to redeem upon leaving.

Employees are entirely off-limits.

If you recognize someone from your life outside these walls, no, you don’t.

That last one made me laugh to myself. “If they don’t sign, they leave. If they break the rules, they leave. No matter who they are or who they think they are,” Chloe concluded. “Mr. West is all about privacy and safety. There’s a lot of trust involved in visiting a club like this.”

I was starting to see that.

I was starting to see a lot of things.

He ran a tight ship, for one. Everyone moved like lightning in the locker room and dressing rooms when Chloe gave me the brief tour. Everything was ultra clean, comfortable, decorated in dark colors.

It wasn’t until we walked out to the main floor that I got a sense of how well-oiled the machine really was.

“Behind you!” somebody barked, giving me roughly two seconds to jump out of the way of a man carrying three racks of glasses which he quickly stacked at the bar.

Two men in black polos swept the already clean dance floor.

Girls in see-through lace dresses that barely covered their asses carried towels to the private rooms. I couldn’t help but remember my night in LA since the space was laid out similarly to that club.

No sense in reinventing the wheel, and he had clearly found what worked.

“Private rooms,” Chloe murmured, gesturing toward rooms lining two of the four walls. Did she notice how my face almost burst into flame? I didn’t need to look inside those rooms to know what I would find if I did.

“Around how many people generally come through in a night?” I asked. “I mean, at the club you worked in.”

“Our best nights, a few hundred.” My eyes were still wide when she added, “Though even a slow night is still around a hundred to one-fifty. You get your early crowd, then the people who show up around midnight, then you have the ones who’ve been partying and want something a little different.

Those are the times our male members bring women they met somewhere else, wanting to show off a little. ”

There was something different about this location, which Chloe proved after taking us through a door leading farther back into the first floor of the building.

“Group play,” she announced, waving an arm to indicate the sunken room with its giant X-shaped sculptures or whatever they were at opposite corners.

Chloe noticed how I stared at them. “You’ve never seen a Saint Andrew’s cross?” she asked. “I didn’t either before I worked for Mr. West.”

“This is all very new for me,” I admitted, also noticing a giant harness hanging from the ceiling. What the hell?

“This room is a new feature,” Chloe explained.

“Mr. West has already scheduled professional demonstrations on certain nights… rope play, bondage, that kind of thing. Patrons will be encouraged to participate at whatever level they feel comfortable, and there’s no pressure.

They can watch if that’s all they want to do. ”

My head was spinning even worse than it had been when we first came down from Dante’s office. “It’s a little overwhelming,” I admitted, earning a soft, genuine smile from the girl.

“I know, but it’s not like you have to handle all of it.

This is just to get you familiar with the layout.

” She led me back to the front and reviewed the process for taking payments.

By the time the doors were about to open, I only felt slightly intimidated instead of completely overwhelmed and in over my head.

A trio of girls in leather masks and those see-through lace dresses waited by the front door with champagne flutes balanced on silver trays. “Right. Almost forgot.” Sliding her hand into a drawer under the counter, Chloe withdrew a black lace mask. “Do you want to wear one?”

Nothing could’ve stopped me. I highly doubted anybody from Cameron’s world would visit a club like this, but there was no way of knowing for sure. After all, I would never have imagined working here. Life was crazy that way.

“Oh, one more thing. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you this,” Chloe added, handing me a tablet while she took one for herself. My hands were shaking. I needed to get it together. “We don’t participate, ever. ”

“God, I would never.” The idea made me a little queasy. If she had to bring it up, it probably meant there would be invitations from guests. Good to know.

“And if you see problems, let one of the bouncers know. Don’t try to settle things yourself. It’s not worth it.”

“Gotcha.” Glancing her way, I added, “Thank you. Can you tell I’m completely out of my element here?”

“You’re not the first,” she told me with a grin. “I ended up working for Mr. West once I went on my millionth audition with nothing to show for it. Now, my life is a lot more secure, and I can still act.”

Before I could ask what she meant, she purred, “Good evening. Welcome to Club Kink. Whatever you desire can be yours.” She lowered her eyelids, giving me a sexy look that made me giggle and fan myself.

“That was pretty convincing,” I told her, giggling again.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. We were all here to do a job, to sell the fantasy, and I had plenty of experience with selling something that wasn’t quite true.

The way I tried to sell to myself the idea of a happy, ideal marriage, for starters.

Dante quickly walked through, giving the lobby one last look over and clapping his hands together. Like magic, everybody fell in line, almost standing at attention like the general had just walked into the room.

“All right, everyone. This is it. Tonight makes or breaks our reputation in town. I know I can count on all of you to provide an excellent experience.” His practiced gaze moved over all of us, then he nodded. “All right. Dim the lights.”

The bright light now turned dimmer. Bright enough that it wouldn’t be a hazard but dark enough to lend a little bit of anonymity. From the second somebody stepped in the door, the illusion had to be established.

I was more impressed with every second.

Most of all, I was impressed with Dante.

He might’ve been a bastard who didn’t give a damn about how his choices impacted others, he might’ve been arrogant and unfaithful, but he knew what he was doing and took it seriously.

Most of all, he had built it all on his own.

No inheriting Daddy’s client list like my ex-husband had.

Dante squared his shoulders, then took a champagne flute from one of the trays.

All it took was turning his head ever so slightly to catch my eye.

My insides turned to molten lava. How was I supposed to work with this man without losing my mind and every shred of dignity?

Because there was no way I could ignore what he did to me.

He lost my trust, my faith, but not his hold over my body. The bastard.

“Open the doors,” he announced. “I hope you’re ready for this.” Was he talking to everyone or only to me? It didn’t matter. The doors opened, and the first guests started pouring in.

Here we go .