Nightclub Surprise

Home > Romance > Nightclub Surprise > Page 21
Nightclub Surprise Page 21

by Michelle Love


  Sure, there weren’t any nipples to tease, but he’d kiss my scars and murmur sexy things…well, dirty things the way only August could. And when his lips touched those scars, it did something to me. It sent heat through me just the same way it did when there were double Ds there.

  August was down to only one therapy session a week on Wednesdays. My work schedule changed; I only worked on Tuesdays and Thursdays. August took care of the kids those days. Leila and I handled the wig business from our homes the rest of the week. Things were good; we all stayed busy doing good things for others, the way August promised John Black he would. I joined him in that endeavor, too.

  The day was Wednesday, and August strode into the room, a smile on his face. He went to kiss and hug the kids before coming to me on the sofa. His eyes were full of desire.

  He didn’t kiss my lips. Instead, he kissed the spot just behind my ear as he whispered, “So, I was thinking…let’s have us another baby. What do you say?”

  I hadn’t said one word to anyone about how I’d been thinking the same thing. One more added to our growing family had been on my mind for only a day or so.

  How could we be so in sync?

  He pulled back, looking at me with those sexy hazel eyes. I whispered back so the kids wouldn’t hear, “What about feeding a baby? I’ve lost the milk jugs.”

  That crooked smile pulled his lips up to one side. “That shouldn’t stop us. I do believe they make something called formula. We do have my sister to beat—she’s got a six-pack.”

  Oh, God help me. I had to be crazy, and I knew that, but I loved the way this man thought!

  “Let’s do it!” I threw my arms around his neck then he picked me up, carrying me away as Denise came in to take care of the kids.

  “You two go discuss the therapy session. I’ve got the little ones.” She gave me a knowing smile as I looked over my husband’s shoulder at her.

  I kissed my hand, then blew it to her. “Thank you, Denise. You’re a godsend.”

  Life wasn’t over for us. More battles would surely come our way, but we’d face them as a family—a strong, growing family who had found their happy for right now.

  The End.

  Swank: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

  A Nightclub Surprise Short Story

  Chapter One

  The big night had finally arrived. It was New Year’s Eve and August Harlow, Nixon Slaughter, and Gannon Forester stood outside their nightclub’s main entrance, waiting for the women they’d fallen in love with. Each of them wore tuxedos, all three looking like the ultra-wealthy and handsome men they were.

  Swank was about to make its debut to the public. Only the super wealthy had their names on the guest list. A veritable who’s who had been invited, and the paparazzi hung out in droves to capture pictures of the wealthiest people on the planet.

  The very first car to pull up let out Tawny Matthews. Her long auburn hair had been styled into a whimsical up-do that rivaled the sexiest of Hollywood’s actresses. A skin-tight dress hugged her curves, putting her ample breasts on display as the V-neck plunged daringly further, showing her belly button. One long slit ran along the inside of her leg, all the way up to her apex. As she slipped gracefully out of the car, making her way to her man August Harlow, photographers hurried to capture the back of the snow-white dress that revealed another V gracing her back, going all the way down to her ample bottom.

  Tall heels carried her to meet her man. After a brief exchange with the other owners of Swank, August and Tawny headed inside the grand establishment.

  The place was opulent—utterly fantastic. A blue light shone from nowhere and magically filled every space somehow. The entrance was phenomenal. White stone statues had been placed around the perimeter of the round room.

  “These came straight from Greece.” August pointed over at the doorway that led to the actual club. “Wait ‘til you see this.”

  Stepping through the door, red light echoed off sparkling waterfalls on either side of them. In the center of the large room, there looked to be a swimming pool. “You can swim in here?” Tawny asked him incredulously.

  “No,” he chuckled. “Come on.” He led her to the pool. “Glass covers the water. Didn’t you notice that you can’t hear the waterfalls?”

  She looked at the waterfalls, then at him. “That had to cost a lot of money.”

  “Everything in this place did.” August looked around the large room with pride. He’d been part of the trio that made their dream nightclub come to life and took pride in that fact.

  Outside, another car pulled up to the red-carpeted walkway. Out stepped Brooke Forester, Gannon’s very new bride. Her long blond hair hung in a silken sheet down her back. A black dress hugged the top portion of her body, and at her waist, the fabric blossomed out to form a cupcake skirt. Sexy red heels adorned her feet, and they took her straight to Gannon.

  His arms wrapped around her, his lips met hers, and the flashes of light from the surrounding photographers lit them up in a halo. Nixon stepped to one side to get out of the couple’s photos. “Whoa,” he murmured as he watched the two kiss as if no one was watching.

  Gannon introduced his wife to his partner, “Nixon Slaughter, I’d like you to meet the love of my life, my saving grace, Brooke Forester.”

  Brooke held out her hand and Nixon took it, leaving a kiss on top of it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Brooke. You’ve had a real impact on this man. I’ve never seen him happier.”

  Her red lips pulled into a smile. “Thank you. It’s nice to meet you, too. And he’s had quite an impact on me as well.”

  “I’m going to go show her the club before the guests start arriving,” Gannon told Nixon. “You okay out here alone?”

  Nixon chuckled as he waved at them to go. “Yeah, I’ll be okay. Go on. I see my car bringing my girl now.”

  The other couple left Nixon and he turned to watch as his driver pulled the car up and his wife of only a week stepped out of it. Her dark hair was pulled up into a high ponytail. Although Katana was a few months pregnant, her baby bump was so little, you couldn’t even see it as she strode up the carpet to him.

  She’d bought the burgundy dress without Nixon seeing it first. He was pleased with the snug way it sheathed her body. Spaghetti straps ran over her narrow shoulders. So much of her creamy skin was exposed by the openings on each side of the short dress. Only a sliver of material covered her breasts before the fabric gaped, showing off her curvy waistline all the way to the tops of her hips. A narrow bit of fabric ran down the middle of her back and the middle of her front.

  “Oh, hell, baby,” Nixon growled softly as soon as she reached him. “This is going to be hard, keeping my dick in my pants tonight.”

  “Yes, you look nice too, Nix,” Katana said with a sexy grin.

  He couldn’t help himself and pulled her into his arms. His mouth took hers with a hungry kiss, and the cameras popped off again.

  They were all there now. The grand opening was about to begin. But would they be ready for what was to come?

  Thanks to Nixon and his affiliation with The Dungeon of Decorum, a number of Doms were on the guest list—and not all of them were as discreet as he was.

  No, some of them were extremely direct with what they wanted. And they wanted another place to live their dark lives since the Dungeon had been damaged beyond repair.

  Unbeknownst to the three businessmen who only ever wanted a nightclub for the wealthy, three more men were on their way to Swank. All three wanted to convert this club into a den of iniquity—a place where screams could be heard, a place where Dominants ruled over their Subordinates.

  And they’d do anything to get what they wanted.

  Chapter Two

  As Louis XIII de Remy Martin Grande Champagne cognac flowed like a river, Swank’s guests explored the facility. Oil tycoons rubbed elbows with CEOs from all over the world, and beautiful women were everywhere, hoping to find that one eligible bachelor who’d change their lives
forever.

  New Year’s Eve was a notorious night; many revelers expected their lives could change on these nights—and some did, while some simply stayed the same. Eliza Davis was the illegitimate daughter of an Arabian prince, and her mother was married to a prominent movie producer; thus her pedigree had earned her an invite to what was promised to become a prestigious nightclub.

  The young woman, who’d just turned twenty-one, knew her upper-class lifestyle was held in the hands of her stepfather. If anything happened to her mother’s marriage, Eliza would be destitute. And Eliza knew something that her stepfather didn’t—her mother was having an affair. Eliza knew that if he ever found that out, she and her mother would be out on their asses in no time.

  Her dark eyes scanned the room for a man without a woman on his arm.

  Three men stood together near one of the bars, and they too seemed to be scanning the room for someone. Eliza’s eyes met those of one of the men. The tall, muscular blond raised his glass to her in a greeting.

  She raised her cocktail in greeting before taking a sip. Her eyes stayed on him, and she was happy to see him bidding his friends farewell to come to her.

  The man’s eyes roamed over her five-foot four-inch frame, taking in her luscious curves. He stopped in front of her, his caramel lips pursed as he nodded in appreciation. “Good form. I have to applaud that. Short in stature, yet perfectly proportioned. A real showpiece if I do say so myself.”

  Eliza wasn’t accustomed to anyone being that forward with her. She’d been sheltered from people most of her life. Since her father was a prince, her mother worried that he’d send someone to steal her away one day. Now that Eliza was of age, her mother was no longer concerned.

  “Okay…” she said as she shifted her weight on the sky-high nude heels she wore. A dark green dress billowed around her. Her mother had picked it out, calling it an appropriate dress for a young innocent such as herself.

  “Skylar,” the man said, his blue eyes glistening as he bit his lower lip.

  “Eliza.” She sipped her drink in a vain attempt to drown the nerves she now felt.

  Although she’d prepared herself for this man-hunting expedition, she didn’t have a clue what to expect. This man looked at her with hungry eyes. She had assumed all men were gentlemen who took things nice and slowly, the way her stepfather had approached her mother.

  But her eyes were locked on a man who knew nothing about going slow or being a gentleman. And he proved that with his first sentence: “So, wanna go find a dark corner and fuck?”

  “No!” Eliza huffed then turned to walk away. She’d made a mistake when she zoomed in on this one.

  Her hasty retreat was halted by his grip on her shoulder. He came around to face her. “Why’re you here then?”

  “Not for that.” The half-full drink in her hand gave her something to toss at the man if she needed to. The thought settled her a bit. She wasn’t helpless after all. “Why do you think you can say something like that to a woman you don’t know at all?”

  He shrugged. “Probably because the places I usually frequent are all about that.”

  “Where do you usually go? Brothels?” One dark brow raised as she stared him down.

  His chuckle was deep and more than a bit arrogant. “No. BDSM clubs. My friends and I came here tonight to check this place out and see if we can talk the owners into making this a place we can find like-minded women.”

  “BDSM?” She had to ask. She had no idea what he was talking about.

  “Surely you’ve heard about it?” He eyes glinted with bemusement. The woman was gorgeous—a real beauty with a wild look to her that merged with an air of aristocracy. She was an enigma, wrapped in a dress that could’ve belonged to her grandmother.

  Now Eliza felt embarrassed. Her sheltered lifestyle was showing and she knew it. She may as well admit it to the man. “Look, I was homeschooled. My mother never let me have friends or go out at all.”

  “You didn’t have a television?” The smirk he wore should’ve made her mad, but on him, it looked sexy.

  “Not the way most people do. My mother only let me watch what she allowed. All the other channels were blocked.” Shifting her weight again, she played with the rim of her glass.

  “Then you must be a virgin, huh?” his question asked unabashedly.

  “And you must be the rudest man on the planet!” She spun away to leave him.

  But what he said next stopped her, “I’m only asking because you intrigue me, Eliza.”

  She intrigued him? She’d never intrigued anyone before. She slowly turned to look at him again. He was over six feet tall, broad-shouldered, muscular, and had twinkling blue eyes. With his short-cut blonde hair and blue eyes, he should’ve looked like an All-American kind of man. Only he didn’t. Because behind those eyes, a fire burned—a fire that told Eliza this man could be very dangerous.

  …and that excited her. “Would you care to tell me about this BDSM thing? Since I have no clue as to what it actually is?”

  He took her hand and led her to a small table in a far corner. “I’d love to, Eliza.”

  Chapter Three

  Nixon Slaughter dabbled in the Dominant world, and when he recognized a few of the men from the club he’d once been a member of, he noticed a trend. His partners would be pissed if they saw how each of the three men were coming onto their female guests.

  As good hosts, Nixon, August, and Gannon mingled as did their female counterparts. Nixon was leaving the company of the plastic surgeon he’d met at The Dungeon of Decorum the same night he’d met Katana. And that’s when he overheard a conversation that sent chills through him.

  “See if you can get her to let you take her somewhere secluded, Skylar. Spank that ass and see if she likes it.”

  Nixon turned his attention to the man who spoke the words that sent chills down his spine. “Hi. Nixon Slaughter. And you guys are?”

  “Slaughter, you mean to tell me you don’t remember us?” one of them asked.

  Another said bluntly, “From the Dungeon.”

  “Ah, no wonder. I’ve only ever seen you guys in masks. Now, if I recall correctly, I invited only five members from that club. I’ve just visited with two of them, so you three have got to be Skylar Preston, Luke Sanborn, and James McKenzie.”

  The blond nodded. “Skylar here.”

  Next came the man with dark waves of shiny hair. “Luke.”

  And last, the man who preferred a clean-shaven head replied, “And I’m James. It’s nice to see you again, Nixon. It’s been a while.”

  “It has. I only sent invitations to those men who live in the Los Angeles area.” Nixon shoved his left hand into his pocket as his right gestured to the place. “So, what do you guys think?”

  Skylar wasted no time in telling him what he thought, “I think this place is great—but it could be better. I don’t suppose you have any private rooms you’ve yet to show us.”

  Nixon shook his head. “This isn’t that kind of establishment. My partners and I might’ve been up for that a year ago, but since we’ve all found women, and all either have kids or are about to have kids, that’s not a thing we want to promote.”

  “Why the hell not?” Luke asked, taking a swig of his beer.

  Nixon laughed as he shook his head. “I know—you guys don’t get it. Don’t get me wrong. My wife and I like to mess around with a little light stuff. But Hollywood, with all the sexual misconduct scandals going on right now, isn’t the place for a club like the one we enjoyed in Portland.”

  “If people had to sign similar things the way The Dungeon of Decorum did, then it would be okay, wouldn’t it?” Skylar asked.

  “I doubt it. And I know our significant others would have fits if we did something like that.” Nixon looked around the room and then back at the men. “I did overhear one of you talking about taking someone to a secluded area and spanking them. I must advise you not to do that. We don’t want any trouble here, if you know what I mean.”

/>   Skylar growled, “Sounds like you guys all lost your balls to me. How’d you force the Dom in you to roll over and play dead, Slaughter?”

  Nixon didn’t like the way the man talked and let him know it. “Hey. Not cool, bro. You guys are all single men who have no idea what it means to love someone and want to make them happy. My wife wouldn’t be happy if we changed this into a BDSM club, and I can go so far as to say my partners’ wives wouldn’t either. So, play nice, be civilized, and don’t play out your Dom roles while you’re in this club. Got it?”

  The hard stares of all three very dominant men might’ve unnerved a lesser man, but Nixon Slaughter wasn’t a lesser man. His shoulders squared, his chin jutted out just enough, and his unflinching demeanor told them not to mess with him.

  With nods, the three appeared to understand they had to mind their P’s and Q’s if they wanted to stay. But Nixon didn’t know that once he was out of earshot, the men returned to talking about the plan they’d made.

  “He’s pussy-whipped,” Skylar was the first to say. The other two nodded in agreement.

  James pointed out another wallflower who looked young and innocent. “That one over there looks like she’s not sure if she’s coming or going. She’d be another perfect Sub.”

  Luke looked around, spotting a couple more prospects. “Maybe we can figure something out. Maybe build our own club.”

  “You have no idea how hard that is, Luke.” James took a seat at a nearby table, and the others joined him. “There’s so much legal shit to do. It took years for The Dungeon to get to where it was before it was destroyed.”

  Skylar looked around, glaring over at August and Gannon. “If these guys weren’t such pussies, then we could have it all right here in Los Angeles.”

  “To be fair, we haven’t talked to the other two men who own this fine establishment,” James reminded him.

  Across the room, August stayed wrapped around his woman, and Gannon held tight to his young wife like he was afraid he’d lose her. Nixon and his wife only separated long enough for her to go to the ladies’ room. Once she came back to the main part of the club, Nixon had her securely wrapped in his arms.

 

‹ Prev