Page 17 of Velvet Sin (Elite Men of Los Angeles #5)

ELEANOR

B ack when I had to start looking for sales, picking up the cheapest ingredients I could find, including instant ramen, cereal, rice, and beans, I had gotten by, but it was nobody’s idea of thriving.

So whenever I felt slightly guilty for doing the sort of work I did, I went to the grocery store and remembered how grim things were in the weeks and months after the divorce.

Not that there was anything wrong with my job, but it wasn’t exactly something I wanted to brag about.

I’d never again be the woman I was during my marriage.

That much I knew for sure. Back when I could go to the store and buy anything and everything that looked good.

Back when I used to research recipes for Cameron, preparing sometimes lavish meals.

Anything, so long as he was happy. So long as I could hold onto the life we had built.

No, I was a different person now, buying frugally, aware of prices in a way I never had been. Not much mattered more than building my savings. I would never feel that breathless desperation again.

And I had Dante to thank.

I could still barely wrap my head around it as I unloaded my cart and placed items on the conveyor belt for the cashier.

For so long, Dante had been the symbol of everything that went wrong in my life—my broken heart, my complete drop in self-esteem, my trust issues.

All of that damage made Cameron seem like the ideal partner.

He had always adored me and was completely on my side in cursing Dante for ruining a good thing. He made me feel safe, protected.

Funny how things changed.

“Hey, girl!” I jumped in mute surprise and turned my head in time to find Casey jogging my way as I loaded a couple of bags into the back seat of my Lexus. “We were all starting to think you dropped off the face of the earth. Where have you been?”

She threw her arms around me in a fierce hug that I returned after a beat.

It was strange how little I had thought of my friends since being hired by Dante.

Why the hell was I suddenly so jumpy and nervous?

She didn’t know anything about my job or apartment.

She hadn’t asked to visit, and I hadn’t invited her since I wasn’t exactly proud of it.

Besides, there was barely room for me, much less a guest.

I had nothing to be ashamed of. So why did I keep looking around like I was afraid I’d be spotted in the parking lot? “I’ve been working long hours,” I blurted out. Oh, good move. Because obviously, what was the natural follow-up question to a statement like that?

I heard it in my head before she said a word. “Really? Where are you working? That’s great that you got a job!”

This from a woman who used to wrinkle her nose at the idea of working outside the home. She was doing her best, trying to be a friend. It was more than I could say for myself as I wished I had been a minute earlier in leaving. “Oh, I’m working the front desk at a club.”

“Like a country club? A health club?” Her head tipped to the side as she lifted her sunglasses and perched them on top of her strawberry-blonde curls. As always, she was dressed impeccably, looking rich and pampered in high-end athleisure wear.

“It’s a long story,” I said with a laugh. “Actually, I’m running so late right now. And I have frozen food thawing as we speak.” She offered that we get together soon, and I agreed because it had been much too long since I’d gone out for brunch with my girls.

I would need time to put together a decent cover story before then.

That was the thorny bit that made me gnaw on my bottom lip and tap a frantic rhythm against the steering wheel.

I had been so busy these past few weeks getting the lay of the land, adjusting to long nights that ended in the early morning that I hadn’t given much thought to the rest of my life and everyone in it.

It didn’t take long as I reached my apartment to remember why I worked somewhere I wouldn’t feel comfortable telling my friends about.

There were no overdue bills stacked up on a coffee table composed of two cardboard boxes.

My refrigerator held more than a few pathetic scraps.

I was starting to look at apartments, at least online.

It would take a little more time and a few more paychecks before I felt comfortable with concepts like security deposits.

There were a few additions that didn’t exist prior to working for Dante, like the clothes in a shopping bag sitting on the futon.

I had splurged a little on things for work—lingerie, a couple of skirts, and blouses.

I wasn’t about to wear the negligées and see-through dresses some of the other girls wore, but I was getting more comfortable with the idea of being daring.

I pulled one of the blouses from the bag and admired its softness.

Maybe I would wear it tonight. What a shame he wouldn’t be around to see it, so we might have a replay of christening his office.

How was I supposed to pretend I didn’t want more of what he gave me in his office?

Even thinking about it now, knowing it was wrong, turned up the temperature in my core until I was dangerously hot and bothered.

It would be best for everyone involved if I made and saved as much money as possible as quickly as possible. So I could quit and stop torturing myself.

* * *

“We’ve got a major problem.”

My head snapped up when I heard Blake Reed burst into the lobby, typing angrily on his phone. “Of course, something like this would happen when Dante is out of town.”

“He’s supposed to be flying in overnight,” I offered. “Though he wasn’t sure what time he’d be able to leave New York, so he told us to assume he wouldn’t come in until tomorrow night.” Chloe and I exchanged a look after she finished welcoming a few visitors.

Blake seemed sort of reactionary, very much the-sky-is-falling type of personality. It was always a good idea to take him with a grain of salt.

“I know that, and it’s not going to help.

” He lowered his phone, clamping a hand over his sweaty forehead.

“The girl from the impact play demonstration is sick. Why the hell somebody couldn’t have told me that before fifteen minutes ago, I don’t know.

We’ve got fifty people waiting for this demonstration, and only half of the team is ready to go. ”

“Maybe we could change it into an interactive volunteer sort of thing?” I suggested while Chloe nodded. “The guy with the toys could call on volunteers and demonstrate on them.”

“That makes us look amateur,” he insisted, shaking his head without taking the time to consider the idea. “We brought these people here for a certain purpose. They paid for a learning experience. I’m not going to tell them to participate after charging them extra for the hour.”

I laughed out loud when I realized he was looking the two of us up and down. “What about you girls?” he asked. “Either of you interested?”

Chloe choked on a laugh. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. My boyfriend would not like that.”

“What does your boyfriend have to do with anything?” he asked. I only realized when his stern expression didn’t change that he was serious.

“It’s called having boundaries, Mr. Reed, and I’m not going to overstep them. He knows what I do for a living, and he’s totally cool with it, but rules are rules. We are not supposed to participate in any activities around here,” she concluded with a shrug.

“That’s true,” I agreed. It was a good thing she spoke up first since I was too flustered to come up with a coherent refusal.

“This is an emergency,” Blake insisted, checking his phone like he was looking for a way out of this nightmare. “I’m pretty sure Dante would understand if it meant saving the event and, you know, not looking like assholes.”

When he looked at me and didn’t look away, my heart sank. Would I get fired for saying no? I’d have a hell of a lawsuit if I did, but that would mean a lot of complications I didn’t feel comfortable considering.

“All I have to do is get flogged a little?” I asked.

Did I actually just say that? Who am I?

“Seriously?” Chloe whispered, her brows drawing together. “This goes against our contract.” She didn’t need to look so stricken.

“Somebody has to do it,” I pointed out with a shrug. I could do this. I could be cool and go with the flow.

“Whatever happened to the girl who was out of her element around here?” Chloe was still in disbelief, staring at me in shock as I walked out from behind the front counter and joined Blake on the other side.

I was starting to wonder what happened to that girl too.

There was no time for that, though thinking about it might have been easier to handle than thinking about what I had just gotten myself into.

It was all fine and nice to agree to help, but reality was a little different.

I followed Blake across the main floor, sticking close to the wall, pointedly ignoring the activities going on around me.

This would be fine. A little light flogging.

Maybe I would ask for a bonus, like whatever fee Dante would have paid the girl I was replacing.

I’d be one giant step closer to my goal of affording a better apartment.

My nipples stood out against the sheer bra and almost sheer blouse I was wearing, and not out of arousal.

It was fear. Fear that did not lessen as I entered the group playroom, where couples and single guests mingled while waiting for the demonstration to begin.

Blake led me to a tall, muscular man dressed in black leather pants and boots but nothing else.

His arms, shoulders, and torso were intricately inked, making him overwhelming to take in.

Blake didn’t seem to agree. “Jake, this is Eleanor. She’ll stand in for your partner tonight. Take it easy on her,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

Jake looked me up and down with narrowed eyes before running a hand over his shaved head. “Have you ever done this?”

“Not once,” I admitted, fighting against the trembling that had started. “So, you know. Like he said, take it easy on me.”

“Fair enough. We’ll do the lighter version of my usual demonstration. If anything gets to be too much and you want me to stop…” he explained, “… use the word red. If you need me to slow down but are okay to continue, use the word yellow.”

“If I say red, you’ll stop? No matter what?” I asked, almost choking on my growing fear.

He didn’t hesitate. “Immediately.” And I believed him. He did this for a living and was clearly a professional. “You’re going to need to lose the pencil skirt, for sure. The blouse too. It looks nice, and I don’t want to rip it.”

Well, shit. If I got through this without puking or peeing myself, it would be a miracle.

With Blake tapping his foot impatiently, I unbuttoned my blouse and set it aside, then unzipped and wiggled out of my skirt.

Really, I was no more exposed than I would be if I wore a bikini, even if my bikinis weren’t normally sheer.

The blue and purple spotlights focused on the X-shaped cross in the center of the room wouldn’t leave much to the imagination.

I needed to get over it. This wasn’t about me. It was about the customers and the demonstration.

I was only a body.

Blake stood in front of the cross and welcomed the attendees to the demonstration while Jake used the leather straps attached to the cross to restrain me. He didn’t cinch them very tightly, which I was glad for, but there was no way of freeing myself.

Say red if it’s all too much. You can say red, and he’ll stop, I reminded myself with every breath I took. Those breaths came a lot faster once my attention landed on a table covered in floggers, a paddle, a riding crop, and even a small whip.

He was going to use those on me?

What the hell had I gotten myself into?