Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Hayden
Ihave been a jittering jumble of nerves ever since Adam left me this morning. How dare he leave me a hormone-crazed mess?
That kiss. Kisses. And his hands. The way he looked at me. With warmth, and also like he wanted to devour me. Had he not pulled away, I would have done whatever he wanted. Because I wanted it too. But he did pull away, and now I’m confused.
Everything felt right. The playful way we’ve been around each other these last two days as he worked on my house. And before then, if I think about it. When we weren’t fighting, that is. My physical attraction for Adam has grown deeper and it muddles me.
I care about him.
I drop my head to my desk and knock it a couple of times.
“You’re going to give yourself a concussion if you keep that up,” Mira says, her voice ringing out.
I groan. “Don’t you ever knock?”
“Why would I do that?” She walks over and takes a seat across from me.
Her eyes narrow and her chin dips. “You look rosy. And flustered. Hayden, what have you been up to? You haven’t—Did you hook up with someone? I know we’re work friends, but I thought you’d share that kind of juicy detail.”
I roll my eyes. How does she read me so well? Oh, right, Adam said my emotions play out on my face like a book. Gotta work on that. “We are more than work friends, Mira. You’re one of my best friends in town.”
“Damn straight, so spill these horny details you’re hiding.”
I jump up and cross the room, sticking my head out the door to make sure no one overheard her. I close the door and swing around. “Keep your dang voice down,” I whisper loudly. “And there’s nothing to tell.”
“Of course there is. For one, who is he?”
I slump into my chair. And then I lower my forehead back onto the desk. “You don’t want to know.”
“Oh, I think I do.”
I look up to find her sitting forward. “I have a crush on someone I shouldn’t.”
Her eyes sparkle. “Those are the best kind.”
I shake my head and let out a sigh. “No, they’re really not.”
Mira’s warm brown gaze, a couple of shades darker than my own, drifts to the side. “Hayden, didn’t Adam come by this weekend to pay off his bet?”
I don’t say anything.
“It’s Adam?” Her voice went up an octave. “I told you to get close, but I wasn’t suggesting that.”
I stand and walk around the desk, sitting in the chair next to her. I glance nervously at the door. “Keep it down already.” I take in her expression and cock my head. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you stunned before. Is this what it takes?”
“You and Adam? Um—yeah. I mean, I figured you two would go at it eventually, but I thought it would be wild monkey sex and you’d get him out of your system. I didn’t think you’d fall in love.”
“Lo—What? Why would you say that?”
Ignoring my question, she rattles on. “Adam is working for the bad guys, Hayden. What are you thinking?”
Over the weekend, I didn’t think once about the Blue Stars and Adam’s role in what might be going on.
I bite my bottom lip. “Is he, though? Maybe I’m wrong. I’m not sure about anything anymore.”
Mira shakes her head slowly, as though she can’t believe what she’s hearing. I don’t blame her. “Don’t let your vagina speak for you.”
I give her an incredulous look. “Leave my vagina out of this. She hasn’t been as active as you’re imagining.” Not that she wouldn’t have been active if Adam hadn’t pulled the plug this morning, but Mira doesn’t know that.
Mira is silent, and then she asks softly, “You really like him?”
I nod, my lips pressed together. “I really do.”
Adam
Paul is standing in the middle of the third Bliss suite by the time I catch up to him late in the morning.
This suite is identical to the first one I visited the other day, except that it’s entirely furnished.
They all are now. The only workers milling around are the decorator and her assistant. The contractors have cleared out.
And the place is spectacular.
I can’t say I understand why members would pay a quarter of a million plus annual dues for Bliss, but they will have access to a celebrity-worthy lounge and suite when they come.
“Decided to show up?” Paul says.
I may have arrived a little late for work after my impromptu sleepover. The best night of my life, and sex wasn’t even involved.
I can’t imagine a better way to wake than next to Hayden every morning, and I don’t even feel a nudge of unease thinking that.
Which is what I realized once I got home.
I want this thing with her to work. It’s why I pulled away when I sensed her hesitation.
Hayden is important to me, and I don’t want to screw this up.
“What was it you wanted to show me?” I ask.
“That’s all you have to say?” He holds out his arms. “Well? What do you think?”
“It’s fantastic. The members will love it.”
“You haven’t even seen the best part.” Paul walks into one of the bedrooms and I follow.
This room has a king-sized bed covered in red silk with a deep purple bedspread folded at the bottom.
Red satin ceiling-to-floor curtains drape behind the bed.
Across from it are more curtains over an oval tile stage.
It’s not a stripper pole, though I think the point is the same. Whoever’s on the bed gets a show.
Paul sees me staring. “That’s not all. Check this out.” He walks across the room to the bathroom.
It’s as luxurious as the one I glimpsed the other day, but there’s no hot tub. This one houses waterproof chairs and wall shower nozzles everywhere, and it piques my imagination. It’s only been a couple of hours since I left Hayden and my blood is still running hot. “Nice.”
“You haven’t seen the pièce de résistance.” Paul walks to one of two doors and opens it. And this is where my imagination screeches to a halt. “Well?” he says.
I look at him, his narrow chin that seems to take up half his face, the slick hair he combs over with a slight wave to hide his receding hairline. Paul’s navy suit is on the boring side for my taste, but it gives off a certain professional air. Seeing him standing next to a BDSM room doesn’t.
Or maybe it does. Maybe this is where the rich and powerful exercise their eccentric tastes without the public knowing. “I think you’re catering to a certain clientele.”
He chuckles. “Not even close. Our members asked for the dungeon. We provided them a taste of it with Bliss 1.0, but they wanted more. Not everyone is into it, but we’ve outfitted every Bliss suite with a dominatrix bedroom.”
I take in the space that’s the size of the luxurious bathroom.
There’s some kind of suspension frame and a leather bench.
And dozens of whips, chains, and other forms of bindings and flagellation equipment, not to mention a sleek black chest of drawers I’m certain supplies additional sex toys. “How do you keep it all clean?”
Paul laughs. “You see the fun room, and that’s the first thing you think of?”
I glance again. “I’m not a fan of STDs.”
He slaps my shoulder and squeezes. I slide my gaze to the hand, then narrow it back on his face. He drops his arm and clears his throat. “Guess we know what role you’d play.”
Yeah, I get what he’s implying. I’m still not amused.
He closes the door and walks out of the suite, talking as he goes. “Our members are paying a fortune. We provide them with their own equipment, and set up the playroom to their specifications before they arrive. There’s a menu of escorts and house mistresses to choose from.”
“House mistresses?”
Paul stops and scratches his chin. “You really haven’t been to a dominatrix?” I give him a speaking look. “Suit yourself. You don’t have to like it; our clients do.”
“You and William seem to be handling members,” I say. “As hospitality, I assume I’m expected to make sure the high-class sex dungeon runs smoothly. What else do I need to know?” My voice is tinged with irritation.
“Bliss isn’t a sex dungeon. That would be common.” Paul shakes his head. “I keep forgetting you recently came into the fold.” He walks to the bar, grabs a tumbler, and douses it with Gran Patrón. Must be his favorite, because he chose it the night of my promotion at Farley’s as well.
He offers me some and I shake my head. Paul taps his Blue sapphire ring against the glass—an especially annoying habit of his—and stares down at the liquid as though thinking.
“Bliss is meant to encompass anything and everything our clients could want.” He takes a swig and studies me.
“Come on. Best way to explain it is to show you the rest.”
He heads for a door off to the side and opens it. “Gourmet kitchen. There will be a professional chef and staff on duty twenty-four-seven.”
And from the looks of it, the kitchen is fully functional and ready to go.
Paul closes the door and strolls to what he’s referred to before as the concierge area, with opaque glass for privacy.
“This is the brains of the operation. Each suite will feature a Bliss concierge, but in actuality, she’s the pleasure director.
You’ll manage the Bliss concierges, but they will do the work of guest services.
Each concierge will keep track of member preferences and supply them with whatever they need. ”
“Supply them?” I say.
Paul punches in a code to the glass door and crosses to a computer, where he spends several seconds typing in passwords.
A new screen pops up. “Meet the Bliss database.” He clicks through images of beautiful women.
Dozens of them. “These are the escorts. As I mentioned a week ago, no need for you to look into more dancers. The few you hired are great, and we’ve taken care of the escorts.
The original plan was to see if any of the dancers were willing to provide escort service, but we’ve come up with a better solution through Blackwell’s connections.
We have more women than we need, and you’re going to drool when you see them in person. ”
I highly doubt it, but I humor Paul. “What else?”
Paul pulls up a spreadsheet. “Here is the list of equipment we supply.”
Which consists of items I glimpsed in the sex dungeon, as well as condoms, lubricants, and other personal care. I point to another list. “What is that?”
“Decoy names we’ve come up with for the drugs our members might wish to procure during their stay,” he says. “We learned from Bliss 1.0 that keeping drugs in-house could be problematic, so our escorts deliver them when they arrive.”
“Which also encourages members to use escorts if they want drugs.” And—Jesus—puts the criminal liability on the poor girl delivering them.
Paul smirks. “Exactly. They pay the price of two for one. Though once the escort arrives, I can’t imagine they’ll want her to leave.
” He grins licentiously. “By the way, how did you like the product I sent to your house? Haven’t used it all up, I hope?
That was top grade. Costs us a fortune, but we have an inside connection. ”
The prostitutes and cocaine Paul sent to my house were more than a test of my discretion; they were a sample. Wonderful.
I knew there had to be more to Bliss with the way Paul and William were acting, I just didn’t want there to be a problem.
I told myself that as long as Blackwell kept everything legal, there wasn’t an issue, and he did.
People bring drugs to the casino all the time.
Everything else I’ve seen this morning isn’t necessarily illegal in Nevada either.
But it’s enough to have my alarms sounding.
The casino is staying within legal limits, but just barely. What’s stopping them from crossing that line every now and then if it brings in extra cash? That’s what this venture is about for Blackwell. Revenue. In large quantities.
I was selfish because I didn’t want to lose something I’d never done without.
I wanted the cash as badly as Blackwell and the others, but my morals are all jumbled up now.
I’m a little less lax and a lot more wary, because I have more to lose.
I don’t want a lifestyle that doesn’t involve Hayden, and I sure as hell don’t want her mixed up in whatever this is. I’m certain I’m not seeing all of it.
Discretion, Paul and William said. I figured the Bliss members didn’t want anyone knowing about their sexual affairs and the drugs they brought in. But why would Paul threaten me into keeping Bliss a secret? Why wouldn’t they advertise Bliss to the public?
Something isn’t adding up.
Paul finishes his grand tour of Bliss and I return to my office.
The hazy summer clouds paint the lake a gray-blue outside my window.
Paul made it clear that to talk about Bliss would be unwise.
If Blackwell is working with drug dealers, what else might he be willing to do to keep Blue Casino profitable?
I pull out my cell phone and make a couple of calls, one of them to Jeb Kendrick, Gen’s father. To hell with discretion and confidentiality. I tell Jeb about Bliss, and we discuss options for looking into who’s backing the drugs.
Paul has given me details about Bliss on an incremental basis. I’m not backing out, but I’m moving forward cautiously.
I wanted Hayden away from Bliss because of the secrecy and weirdness Paul and William exhibited over the venture, which is why I suggested our bet.
Later, Paul’s threats lent more ammunition for keeping her out of things.
The more I know, the more I’d like Hayden to leave town.
The escorts, the drugs, not to mention the sex dungeon—which I’m pretty sure the casino isn’t licensed for—it’s the kind of atmosphere that breeds trouble.
Hayden returned to Lake Tahoe to prove she deserves to be here. She wouldn’t leave even if I outlined all of the above. If anything, it would spur her on. She’d want to find evidence to take to the police, just like Lewis said.
Blackwell doesn’t want Hayden involved in Bliss, and I’m guessing that’s because he realizes Hayden wouldn’t hesitate to call him out. Smart man.
I have no idea how to manage my relationship with Hayden and my involvement in the venture. I like my job, and I think I can make it work. Bliss could well turn out to be on the up-and-up, but given the behavior of my coworkers and boss, I’ll keep in touch with Jeb just in case.
I should put a halt to what’s building between Hayden and me. If it turns out Bliss is more than I bargained for, I have decisions to make that could be dangerous. Associating with me right now isn’t smart, if it ever was.
But I’m a selfish asshole. I let Hayden walk out of my life once. I won’t do it again.