Page 16 of Velvet Sin (Elite Men of Los Angeles #5)

DANTE

N ote to self… ask Blake what the hell he told this realtor about me.

“I understand you’re fairly particular about your requirements for a home here in Las Vegas.” The woman speaking while tapping on her phone looked like she spent too much time in a tanning bed, her skin a shade of brown that stood in stark contrast to her platinum hair.

“To tell you the truth, I don’t have any strict guidelines in mind.” Looking around her office, I made a mental note not to use her decorator. The word bland didn’t begin to describe it.

She lifted her head on her way through the door, though I couldn’t see her eyes behind a pair of sunglasses that covered half her face.

In a way, they reminded me of the masks from the club, though the masks we used gave people the benefit of eye contact.

I couldn’t tell where she was looking. It was damn unnerving too.

“Mr. Reed went out of his way to explain that you have specific needs. Maybe we got our wires crossed. You are Dante West, correct?” she asked with a laugh as we stepped out into a typically warm afternoon.

“That’s what it says on my driver’s license.” I was beginning to think this was a waste of time. “All I need is a comfortable apartment, townhome, condo… whatever works best… where I can stay while in town for business. This won’t be my primary residence. I do, however, enjoy comfort.”

“That’s not so unique.”

“I didn’t think so, either. I'm sorry my business partner gave you the wrong idea.” Was I a fucking tyrant?

Granted, tyrants got shit done, but it wasn’t exactly a flattering description.

I made a mental note to ask Blake what the hell he was talking about while sliding behind the wheel of my Porsche so Jeanette could show me the first in a list of condos.

The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on me as I drove, and I had to laugh at myself. I swore I would never come back here, didn’t I? Now, here I was, prepared to buy a home. Primary residence or not, it was a step I never wanted to take.

As it turned out, the woman who played a big part in my leaving town for so long now inspired my decision. Sure, it was smarter and easier to have somewhere out here where I could stay if needed.

It was the if-needed part I could thank Lenny for because if it hadn’t been for her, I doubted I would feel the need to do this.

Getting a suite for a few nights every month or even making the short trip back to LA after a visit wasn’t enough.

Not when she was here. That little remark she made a few nights back about the invitations she and the other girls received from our guests…

The thought had me gritting my teeth and growling as I pulled in beside the realtor in front of a generic-looking condo. It looked like there was plenty of square footage, though, in a quiet area. If it meant being close to the club to keep an eye on her, it would be worth whatever it cost.

On a more selfish note, having my own home out here would mean having somewhere private to take her instead of fucking her senseless on my desk, the sofa, against the wall wherever and whenever I could steal her away for a little while.

That wouldn’t last forever. It didn’t seem like anyone had caught on yet, but it had only been a little more than a week since we started screwing like deranged rabbits.

She flat-out refused to let me see her apartment, insisting it was too small and depressing.

I could have taken her to the hotel, but people might see.

I wouldn’t turn her into yet another nameless young woman being shuttled in and out of a wealthy man’s suite.

It was the sort of thing that went on every day in this city, and she was better than that.

Was I seriously buying an entire house for the sake of fucking in comfort and privacy?

No, that was a lot even for me, and I’d been known to go overboard at times—the company jet, the properties I already owned.

Having a home out here would mean sleeping in my own bed at night instead of in a bed countless others had shared. It was just one of many perks.

Even so, I couldn’t pretend Lenny didn’t factor into the thought process.

Was this condo someplace I would want to bring her?

It was just all right—three bedrooms, two bathrooms, an open floor plan, and a new kitchen.

“I think I want a standalone house,” I decided on a whim.

“With a pool.” When Jeanette’s face went slack, I guessed that was something Blake hadn’t told her.

She scrolled through listings on her phone, nodding. “There’s a gorgeous house a few miles from here. It’s a lot bigger than this, though… you’re living alone, right?”

All the fucking questions. “Yes, but I like having a lot of space.” That was the truth, stemming from growing up in an apartment so tiny that my parents slept on the pullout sofa in the living room while I took the only bedroom.

It was so small it could have passed for a walk-in closet and could very well have been, for all I knew. I craved room, air, and light.

I wanted a goddamn swimming pool too. Would I ever use it?

Who knew? But it would be there, something I had always promised myself I’d have one day.

My house in LA did, surrounded by carefully manicured gardens.

My penthouse apartment back in New York featured a rooftop pool open to residents in the spring and summer.

I followed Jeanette to the second property—a two-story house set far back from the road behind a tall fence. It looked like the neighborhood surrounding it was still under construction, with palm trees here and there and some scattered shrubs.

“This might be a little more than you’re looking for.” Jeanette winced as she stepped out from her Mercedes. “Four bathrooms, a primary suite, secondary suite, and two more bedrooms. But the backyard is truly wonderful. Let’s take a look.”

“The owners don’t mind us showing up unannounced?” I asked as she led me around the two-story building with its cream stone facade.

“It’s never been inhabited, according to the listing.” She opened the gate and ushered me through to what could only be described as an oasis. There was an outdoor kitchen, a swim-up bar, and plenty of room for guests to relax and mingle.

I could see myself entertaining out there. Inviting VIPs, investors, partners. It was something I didn’t have the opportunity to do otherwise, normally busy going back and forth from one coast to the other. I had never opened up my life the way I was suddenly imagining.

Fucking hell. I’d gone from swearing I would never return to imagining making this a home.

“I’d like to look around inside,” I decided, marveling at myself. What the fuck had gotten into me? All I needed was a grill, a spatula, and one of those corny aprons that said Kiss the Cook. That wasn’t me.

There had to be a middle ground, though.

I couldn’t spend my entire life isolated the way I was.

Even Blake had a girlfriend now. Clay Manning and his friends out in LA, with whom I had spent many memorable nights over dinner and drinks, were paired off and starting families.

I would be left behind, guarding my privacy, living only at night when I entered my clubs.

It had to be the result of reconnecting with Lenny and remembering how close we came, making the sort of commitment I had gone out of my way to avoid in the years since.

Walking through the empty living room with its fireplace and views of the backyard, my footsteps against the tile floor brought back memories of Lenny pacing frantically in my dorm room, flip-flops slapping the floor with every step.

“How could you do this? How could you do this to me?” She picked up my jeans and threw them at me, screaming as she did. “How could you do this to us? What, am I not enough? Is there anything I ever stopped you from doing? Did I ever say no to you?”

And there was nothing I could do but shake my head because she was right. She had never said no to me. She always gave me all of herself.

It took me a second to figure out she was waiting for me to give her an answer.

She didn’t understand, and I doubted she would have if I had the words to explain it. How could you do this? Don’t you care about us? Don’t you ever think of us?

I used to sit up at night, staring at my closed bedroom door and the light leaking in from underneath while my parents had it out.

Or rather, while Mom begged Dad for an explanation.

How could he have lost another job? How could he have pawned her engagement ring to pay off his debts?

How could he have gambled away the rent money when he promised he never would again?

She would ask him those questions, she would scream and cry, and she would beg, but she would never get an answer. She would only hear useless apologies that would leave her laughing scornfully or screaming louder than she had before.

And there I was. Sitting at the foot of my bed, berated, begged for answers I didn’t have.

Now, I understood better, but what was the point of bringing it all up?

She had scared the fuck out of me back then.

Somebody from a good family, somebody whose father had a steady job, investments, someone who lived an honest, comfortable life.

That was what she was used to. I didn’t know the first thing about how to be the man she needed, the man she expected me to be.

Asking me what my plans were after graduation, hounding me to apply for internships, suggesting grad school, practically ready to fill out the applications for me.

There had been no question of what I wanted or how I saw life unfolding.

And I had been too damn humiliated to admit it.

I couldn’t handle the idea of a future when I had no fucking idea what it was supposed to look like.

I was too proud to admit that. Too stupid, stubborn, scared.

So I fucked a random girl from the dorm when I knew Lenny was planning on coming over.

I’d even left the door unlocked so she’d walk in and find us.

The worst part? I told myself it was for the best. She would be happier without me. Happier with a man who could give her what she wanted.

And then she went and married that useless prick, Cameron Nichols. I’d pushed the one person that ever mattered in my life into the arms of her husband.

On a whim, I decided to call her via FaceTime. She answered after two rings, and when she did, she was wearing those under-eye mask things and a towel turban on her head. “It’s my day off, boss, ” she reminded me. “Don’t tell me you’re calling me to work tonight.”

“What, I can’t call you for any other reason? I’ll have you know, smartass, that I’m looking at houses out here, and I found a good one. I wanted to get your opinion.”

“Whoa.” She sat up straighter as I turned the camera around so it was facing away from me. “That’s not a house. That’s a freaking mansion!”

“Wait until you see the backyard,” I promised, turning toward the windows overlooking the pool. Her stunned gasp made my heart beat faster. It was like being a kid on Christmas, excitement starting to leak into my veins. I was already enthused before the call, but now I had to have it.

“You could throw the best parties out there! I mean, I’m sitting here in a shoebox,” she pointed out with a laugh. “So maybe I’m not the best one to judge. I think anything would be better than this place.”

“You should come over and visit once I move in,” I suggested, winking when I turned the camera around to face me.

“I should’ve known you would make it about that.” She shook her head and clicked her tongue, pretending to disapprove, when I knew the opposite was true. She couldn’t hide from me.

“Can you imagine swimming in that pool? Floating on your back, letting the water support your naked body…” I might’ve started this as a joke, but now the idea made my dick twitch.

“Watch it,” she warned. “I’ll come over for a housewarming, West. I’ll bring you a blender or something.”

“Slap a big bow on yourself, and I’ll be satisfied.” There was no pretending I didn’t want her. Keeping my hands to myself was enough of a challenge. She couldn’t expect more than that.

“I wonder if they sell big bows online…” No sooner did a wicked gleam flicker in her eyes than she scowled. “No. I take that back. No big bows. No anything. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

She ended the call before I had the chance to say another word.

When Jeanette stepped into the living room, her chipper voice echoed loudly in the large, empty space. “What do you think? Want to see the upstairs?”

“No need,” I decided without looking her way. “I’ll take it.”

“We… haven’t discussed price,” she reminded me with a tight, disbelieving laugh.

“We don’t need to,” I replied, turning on my heel and leveling a hard gaze her way. “The price is incidental. I know what I want when I see it. And I want this house.”

Just like I wanted to bend Lenny over a chair by the pool and make her scream. Like the house I stood in, I’d get what I wanted. No matter how determined she was to deny me.

Because Lenny wanted the same thing, whether she’d admit it or not.