by Grant, Livia
His veiled threat wasn’t lost on her. He was right. What a fool she’d been to enter his room without at least knocking first. Oh, how she wished she’d gone to get Madison before confronting the asshole.
Righteous anger helped her lift her foot, crashing it down on the asshole’s bare foot at the exact moment she flailed in his arms, thrusting out her ass in an attempt to make him release her. His own grunt of pain brought her almost as much joy as her freedom. Distracted by his discomfort allowed her the time to fling the door open and rush out into the hall. She took off running as fast as she could toward the Runway office.
She didn’t make it far. Just a few doors down the hall, she crashed into the hard chest of none-other-than Shane Covington, her number one celebrity crush, as he exited the Paris suite.
“Whoa, there, little lady. Where are you off to so quickly?”
* * *
Ironically, Shane Covington was used to women, and a few men, throwing themselves at him — literally. He was even used to them crying, trembling, and even fainting when they met their celebrity crush for the first time. It went with the territory of being an international celebrity.
What he wasn’t used to was women falling apart, knowing it had nothing to do with meeting him. That was exactly what was happening as he held the shaking woman up in front of him. Her legs had given out under her, and he suspected she’d crumple to the ground in a heap if he let go of her. Her breathing was erratic as if she’d just finished running a race. The rosy hue on her olive cheeks shone with perspiration, but it was the sheer panic in her eyes that told her story.
She was afraid.
And beautiful.
But afraid.
“What’s got you spooked?” he asked after his assessment.
Her frantic glance back down the hall gave him his first clue. He followed her gaze to see the double doors at the end of the hall open and none other than Henry Ainsworth exit. He was in the process of closing the thick Runway robe provided to guests in each suite, but he hadn’t bothered to hide his erection, even after his robe was closed, tenting the terrycloth in a telltale sign of his continued arousal.
An unexpected pang of jealousy surfaced before Shane tamped it down. It was ridiculous to be jealous of the older man. Sure, the woman in his arms was beautiful, but beautiful women were a dime a dozen in Hollywood—at least for men like Shane.
“There you are, sweetheart. I know you love to play hard to get, but I really would like you to come back to our room so we can pick up where we left off.”
Lucky bastard. Shane had heard many of the hushed rumors in Hollywood about Henry Ainsworth’s notorious sexcapades. Words like orgies, swapping, and sadistic were common themes of the wagging tongues. He understood, when you are one of the richest and most powerful men in a glamorous industry, you get to make your own rules.
With regret, he prepared to release the woman in his arms, but when he glanced back down at her, fear remained etched on her face. He felt her struggling in his arms, trying to wiggle her way behind him, careful to keep Shane between her and the approaching man.
He had no idea what was happening between the two people in the hall with him, but the soft whimper from the dark-haired beauty as Ainsworth advanced triggered a fierce urge to protect her.
“Sorry, Henry. Looks like this one might be second guessing your date.” Shane kept his voice light, not wanting to make an enemy out of one of the most powerful men in the industry. He didn’t miss the hardness in the older man’s eyes as he responded.
“Oh, we aren’t on a date, are we naughty girl?” There was nothing playful in his tone.
Shane was confused until Henry continued.
“You’d better be careful. This little bitch let herself into my room while I was… predisposed. I caught her spying on me, like a stalker. For all I know, she was trying to steal something while I wasn’t paying attention.”
His accusation finally convinced the shaking woman to step out and be seen.
“That’s a lie! I would never steal from a guest!”
Shane had been so distracted by her beauty before, only now did he notice she was wearing what looked like a housekeeping uniform. Pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall into place.
“I’m sure she didn’t know the room was still occupied,” Shane interjected, trying to defuse the situation, only the woman was not helping.
“Oh, I knew the room was occupied. I only went in because I could hear a woman crying out behind the door. She was telling him she was in pain and asking him to stop!”
Fuck. I don’t need this kinda drama. I need to just mind my own business.
Even as he thought it, the protective wall he’d constructed between the housekeeper and Henry Ainsworth solidified more. While he was pretty sure Ainsworth was harmless, there was no denying the woman hiding behind him had thought she was helping someone in need.
“I won’t deny things can get loud when I’m playing with my… dates… but when I stay at Runway, I expect to have my privacy respected. Did you break into my room to take photos?”
“No! I would never…”
“Am I going to see video of this on TMZ tonight?”
She was flustered by his accusation. “I was just trying to help…”
“Well, you didn’t help. You interrupted me. Inconvenienced me. I demand to know your name. I have Jaxson Davidson on speed-dial. I think it’s time he heard about how rude some of his employees are.”
“Oh God… I can’t lose my job…” Her words were soft, under her breath. The beauty was almost hyperventilating at Henry’s threat to call her boss.
Shane didn’t know her story, but that didn’t stop him from continuing to play the role of her protector.
“I’m sure this was just a misunderstanding. I’m sure you’re really sorry, right?” He’d turned to stare down at her, waiting for her to look up into his eyes. She was a full foot shorter, so when she did look up, she had to crane her neck.
She looked so lost… so vulnerable, triggering every protective bone in his body. She opened her mouth several times as if she were going to speak, but no words came out. Wanting to bring the awkward silence that had descended on the hallway to a close, he instructed her again. “Say you’re sorry, young lady. Tell Mr. Ainsworth it will never happen again.”
He’d used his best Dom voice, the tone he used in scenes as he dominated willing submissives at Black Light. He was sure he’d never seen the woman in front of him at the club in the basement of the building. If he had, he would have remembered. She was a real beauty—even without makeup or designer clothes.
He nodded, urging her to follow his lead. When she spoke, her quiet “I’m sorry” was almost a whisper. He felt a stir as blood rushed to his own cock. He felt like a prick, getting turned on at her obvious distress, but considering humiliation was his kink of choice, it was impossible not to be affected by the vulnerable submission etched on the beauty’s face as she followed his command.
“And…” he urged.
“It will never happen again,” she answered, the tears in her caramel eyes threatening to spill over and down her cheek.
“Damn straight, it won’t. If it does, I’ll have your job. You got that?” Henry Ainsworth threatened. When she didn’t answer, he added a stern, “I didn’t hear you.”
Confusion clouded her gaze. She must have replayed Ainsworth’s threat again before she added a simple, “Yes.”
Ainsworth was a real dick. “Yes, what?”
The combination of anger and embarrassment in her eyes turned Shane’s semi-hard erection to rock. Damn, she would be fun to dominate. He found himself wishing her quiet, “Yes, sir” had been directed toward him instead of the older jerk in the hall.
He hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until the door slamming closed at the end of the hallway had her exhaling like a balloon that had been popped. Whatever bravado she’d mustered to confront Ainsworth had fled, and he could feel her trembling again.
> He was tempted to pull her into the room he’d just left to try to comfort her but refused to take further advantage of her distress. Glancing around the wide hallway, he found a padded bench just a few feet down the hall. She was like putty in his hands as she let him lead her to the seat.
“I think you should sit down,” he instructed, turning her, so her back was to the wall.
She tried to resist, “I need to get back to work. I’ve wasted….”
He cut her off with a simple command, “Sit.”
She complied immediately.
Once she was seated, he squatted down in front of her, putting them at eye level. She broke their eye contact to glance nervously down the hall, making sure they were alone, and Henry Ainsworth had indeed gone back into his room.
“Now. Let’s try to sort things out, shall we?” He asked although it wasn’t really a question.
“There is nothing to sort. I made a mistake. It won’t happen again.”
He watched her carefully, picking up on the defiant edge to her response.
“Why do I not believe you’re agreeing you made a mistake?”
“Well, I did.” Her reply was abrupt and stronger now that Ainsworth was gone.
“And what was that mistake again?” He expected her to answer going into a guest’s room without knocking.
“I forgot rich and powerful men get to do whatever the hell they want to do to defenseless women,” she snapped defensively
He wasn’t entirely sure if she was referring to herself or the unseen woman still in Ainsworth’s suite. He suspected it didn’t matter.
“Listen, I’m not really sure what was or wasn’t happening down there, but I think it’s best if you try to steer clear of Henry Ainsworth for a while, don’t you?”
“Oh, you’d better believe I want to be as far away as possible. There’s just one problem. I work here, and he stays in that suite several weekends each month.”
“That’ll make it more difficult, but I’m sure he’ll want to avoid you as well.” She didn’t look the least bit convinced of that assertion, and he had to admit, what little he knew about Ainsworth told him she was right. He decided to change the subject.
“Now, why don’t you tell me what your name is?”
“Why? So, you can report me to Jaxson and Chase?” The panic in her voice was back.
“Not at all. I’d just like to get your name. I’ll go first. I’m Shane Covington.”
“I know who you are, Mr. Covington. I’d have to be living under a rock to not know who you are.”
He was used to people recognizing him, yet it still pleased him knowing she knew his name.
“Then it’s not fair. You know my name, but I don’t know yours… yet.” Little did she know, he wouldn’t be letting her leave without it.
She hesitated, before quietly answering, “Nalani.”
“What a beautiful name. So unique.”
“Thanks. It’s a family name.”
“Spanish?”
“Hawaiian. My mom’s family was from there.” He detected sadness in her voice.
The dark hair and eyes… olive skin… it made sense. She looked Polynesian.
“It’s great to meet you, Nalani.” He’d been headed out to meet friends for a late brunch. His sudden urge to invite her to go along was ridiculous—she was a housekeeper, and he was an iconic movie star.
The blush in her cheeks as she wiggled under his stare, embarrassed, reminded him of how long it had been since he’d played. He needed to get laid. It was the only explanation for the uncharacteristic intimacy he felt with the petite woman in front of him.
He stood tall, holding his hand out like a gentleman. She yanked her hand back as soon as he’d helped her to her feet. For several long seconds, they each stood awkwardly, reluctant to say goodbye, yet unsure what else there was to say. It was Nalani who put an end to their standoff.
“I really do need to get back to work. I believe you’re staying over again tonight, right, Mr. Covington?”
“Call me Shane, and yeah. I’m staying over for a few weeks, actually. I’m having some work done at my house, and I didn’t want to deal with it.”
“Okay… Shane. When will you return? I’ll be sure to have your room cleaned before then.”
He wasn’t sure why it bothered him she would be the one to clean his room. On the one hand, it pleased him she would be in his room, intimately touching his personal things. But in the same breath, he had to acknowledge his disappointment she was a housekeeper and not a submissive on her knees in front of him at Black Light.
“No need to clean my room.”
“But…”
“No buts. I’m good, and I’d rather you take off a little early and do something fun for yourself tonight instead of working so hard.”
“Well… okay. Thank you, Mr. Covington. I mean… Mr. Shane.” The blush was back in her cheeks, and he was happy to know this time, he’d been the cause. He enjoyed watching her squirm as he raised his right eyebrow in disapproval until she finally tacked on a quiet, “Shane.”
“You’re very welcome, Nalani.”
Chapter 2
What a long day. Nalani couldn’t wait to get home and take off her uniform—mostly her bra—and slide into a hot bath. She usually finished up work by early evening when the clubs were getting busy, but she’d stayed late that night, helping Avery clean out the walk-in pantry. There was a big shipment of food arriving early next week, and the chef had asked Nalani to help her free up some space.
Normally, that was the sort of project she didn’t mind—she loved the people she worked with and enjoyed helping out where she could—but today had been anything but normal. Her brush with Henry Ainsworth, then Shane Covington hours before had left her rattled. Nalani couldn’t wait to lock herself in the privacy of her own apartment so she could unwind and think through all that happened.
One thing she already knew with clarity—she’d made an enemy today. And not just any enemy—a powerful enemy. It was clear Henry Ainsworth didn’t like nor was he used to being told no. She wished she could just forget about the ugly encounter, but Nalani couldn’t help wondering if the redhead was okay. She’d purposefully avoided being in the public areas of the mansion where she might run into the older guest, which also meant she had missed seeing him or the young woman leaving. She hoped the restrained woman had not been lying when she had assured Nalani all was well.
Nalani had just grabbed her purse and pulled her car keys out when a text chimed on her smartphone. Since almost everyone who texted her worked at Runway or Black Light, she hesitated before digging in her bag to pull out her mobile phone. When she saw the text waiting for her on the screen, she wished she hadn’t heard it. As much as she’d love to ignore the incoming message, her conscience and work ethic wouldn’t allow it.
* * *
Text from Elijah:
Sry to bug U. If U R here, come 2 BL. Accident. Help!
* * *
The brief message was so typical of the Master Dom. At least she was able to understand this message. Half the time, she had to ask for clarification on his crazy abbreviations.
* * *
Text back to Elijah:
Still here. On my way!
* * *
She threw her keys in her bag and dropped her purse on the office desk just as his return of a simple thx came through.
Her feet ached as she headed toward the small elevator that would whisk her several floors below the Runway office. She’d been on them all day and had been looking forward to taking a load off. She prayed whatever accident they’d had would be quick and easy to clean up.
“Hey, Nalani. Good to see you down here on a Saturday night. You here to play?” The question was posed by Tyler, Elijah’s second in command at Black Light, as soon as she got off the elevator in the heart of the club.
“Oh, hell, no. I’m just coming down to help Elijah clean up something. He didn’t give any details.”
; The music was pounding, and she had to lean close to his ear to be heard. Despite the dim lighting in the main dungeon, Nalani could make out several couples already getting started on their sexy scenes for the night. Always curious about the BDSM lifestyle, she did her best not to stare.
“Does he ever?” Tyler grinned as he asked the rhetorical question.
“Do you know where he is?” she asked, tearing her gaze away from the couple going at it on the stage closest to the elevator.
“Last time I saw him was in the bar around the corner.”
“Okay, thanks.” Nalani pulled the velvet curtain aside as she teased the dungeon monitor. “Have fun. Not everyone gets to watch people have sex all night while getting paid.”
“Don’t I know it. I’m living the dream,” Tyler teased, genuinely happy.
The lighting and sounds changed on the other side of the heavy velvet curtain. She’d spent a fair amount of time in the social area of the club over the year she’d been working in the mansion. Madison and Avery liked to come down on slow nights in the middle of the week for a night cap, and if Nalani was still around, she’d join them.
Tonight, being Saturday night, the place was packed. She pressed through the crowd, making her way to the bar to see if Susie knew where Elijah was. The crowd waiting for drinks was several people deep. At five foot three, she was too short to see through the crowd and knew she had to weave her way around behind the bar if she was going to find Susie.
She had just broken through a split in the crowd as she neared the back stairs where Black Light members could come down from Runway. Finding Susie became a moot point when she rounded the end of the bar to find a huge debris field on the back bar that had spilled onto the floor. Susie was bending over, a small garbage can in her hand, picking up the largest shards of glass from the mess on the floor.
“What the hell happened? Did someone start throwing bottles of booze?” she asked, trying to figure out what had caused the mess.
