The Nightingale Trilogy: An Alpha Billionaire Romantic Suspense Page 7

  “I’m afraid that I have not yet met them.”

  “Well, come on!”

  Nala was hauled to the bevy of beauties in masks, each of whom looked up with a smile as they waved down their new friends. Robin stuck Nala behind the nearest couch, stroking her bare arms and cooing at what a beautiful code name she had.

  “This is Quail,” she said, pointing to the girl with bold red lipstick and a pair of shoes ready to dance the Charleston. “You probably remember her from Tuesday.”

  Nala couldn’t help but blush as the young woman shook hands with her. “Pleasure to meet you, Nightingale.” She had an even, airy voice that spoke of a submissive fun Nala never considered before. Confident, but deferring. “I hope you like this group. We do have a lot of fun.” She winked. “Sometimes with the other boys.”

  “Oh, hush. Don’t scare her off.” Robin flicked her friend’s pearl headband while Nala took another step back.

  “She’ll have to get used to it,” said the buxom blonde, Starling. “That Master of hers is quite the punch of man. Hi.” She extended her delicate hand to Nala. “Starling. That stud in the bold blue suit is mine, but you can have him if you give me yours for a night.” She winked. Nala shuddered. I don’t even want to sleep with “my” man. Let alone yours!

  The third woman, who until now had been quiet, took her chance to lean forward and introduce herself. Nala was instantly captivated by her strong jaw, prominent lips, and shaved head with only a bit of black fuzz coming back in. Yet she was extremely feminine, wearing a dark, gold dress over her smooth black skin and a figure to die for. Her breasts alone caught Nala’s wayward eye more than once.

  “Maggie,” she said. Then, smiling wider, “Short for Magpie. Charmed.”

  She had the strongest grip of all the women. While Nala was used to women having firm handshakes, for some reason she did not expect it in this submissive bunch. Then again, not much about Maggie seemed demure. Maybe her “Master” was only in this for the business connections, and, like Nala, Maggie was lying about being a submissive little flower.

  “We hope you aren’t too nervous about being here,” Quail said, catching Nala’s attention again. “The new couple aren’t expected to do anything for a little while. Starling didn’t put on her first show for us until a month in.”

  “Oh, and what a show,” Robin said, sitting on the arm of someone’s chair. “I got so wet watching her Master play with her that I begged for mine to fuck me done in the other room. Door open, of course.” She giggled. Nala paled.

  “The open door policy at these things is a little weird at first, but we’re all a bunch of exhibitionists and voyeurs at the heart of it.” Starling shrugged. “I don’t mind if my friends peek in at me having sex with my soul mate. It’s a beautiful thing, isn’t it?”

  “Uh…” Nala caught herself looking at Vincent, who happened to look over her way at the same time. They instantly looked away again, Nala’s cheeks bursting in flames.

  “It’s okay if you and your Master don’t have sex tonight. It can be weird at first.”

  “Weird? It’s hot!”

  “Of course you think so. You always make sure your ass is pointed toward the door so everyone gets an eyeful of your Master’s cock.”

  “All right, ladies.” Maggie stood, her long legs bringing her to Nala in one step. The gold mask on her face glittered in the light, like jewels. There’s something different about this woman. Beyond her commanding abilities. “We’re overwhelming the newbie. She’ll get the hang of things soon enough.”

  She pressed her fingers upon Nala’s shoulder before sauntering to her partner on the other side of the room. He welcomed her with an open arm, kissing her forehead before introducing her to Vincent.

  Nala went off to get another drink and deposit the old glass on a counter. More of those women in lingerie came in and out of the main gallery, taking away drinks, bringing out food, and whispering to someone here or there to make sure they were “comfortable.” When one went up to Vincent and whispered something into his ear, Nala felt a tinge of something that felt like… jealousy.

  No way.

  Vincent stepped away from Maggie and her partner before heading straight for Nala. She regained her composure, intent on staying focused before making a fool of herself in front of these new “friends.”

  “You should come over and meet the other men, too,” he said, voice low. “Get all the facts before Crow makes his great appearance.”

  Right. That man was still nowhere to be seen, and this was his own party. He probably likes making grand, late entrances. Nala was sure to pick up a fresh glass of champagne before wrapping her arm around Vincent’s and letting him lead her to Maggie and a man named Jay – quite the birdlike accident, he promised.

  A flurry of names flew by her that night. When she wasn’t learning names like “Starling” and “Quail,” Nala had to remember the names of all the men who were not Vincent. She wasn’t as bad as Robin claimed to be, at least. She could remember them, in time, but she couldn’t say she was looking forward to it. These people would never be her friends. Their bright, fake smiles and constant flirting with one another unnerved her. How many of them were there solely for the business aspect and had to fake the BDSM lifestyle? How many of them were super into the lifestyle and could barely contain themselves at these gatherings? What would be expected of Nala? Would she confide the lie she was already brewing? That Vincent wanted to further his business prospects with Crow, and Nala, his “girlfriend,” was going to play along with it for the sake of her lovely man?

  It was better to share than the truth, anyway.

  God, the truth would get her killed, just like her sister!

  “Someone in my life is gone because of that man.”

  Nala gazed at Vincent while the group talked South Waterfront properties and the latest show at the opera. Was someone in his family killed too? Nala wanted to ask. She was getting to the point where she wanted to confide in someone again, but the last time she shared her suspicions, her mother threw a can of beer and told her to never bring it up again. “Xavier Crow is a good man!” she had bawled. “He paid for your sister’s funeral!”

  Because he was guilty. Nala was sure of it.

  Sure enough, when the man and host of the hour arrived not five minutes later, Nala felt even more confident that she was not losing her mind and looking for someone to blame. There was something sinister lurking behind those old, playful eyes. The other women, most of all Robin, were utterly smitten with the way Xavier kissed their hands and asked them to “twirl around and let me get a look at you.” They danced like music box figurines, blushing, giggling, and assuring the man who controlled their Masters’ business destinies that he was the most interesting man in the room.

  What’s most interesting is that he hasn’t had a date yet. Xavier either walked around alone, speaking to people here and there, or flirted with one of the servers on duty. Those women did the bare minimum to be polite and somewhat flirtatious back. Anything to keep their jobs.

  “Everyone!” he cried, holding a glass of champagne in the air. Vincent nudged Nala, forcing her to lift a glass in toast as well. “Here’s to another night of fun and relaxation. No shows tonight, unless you want to.” People laughed, least of all Nala. “Eat, drink, converse and be merry. Oh, and, do make good use of the rooms in this suite. I’m paying a pretty price for us to make merry, if you know what I mean.”

  Even Nala knew what that meant. She forced a smile. Not acting. Lying.

  Music came on a stereo. Lively orchestral tunes that would play in a fancy elevator or restaurant. Music to soothe the soul, loins, and heart… and easy to ignore, Nala noted. One moment she heard a song, and one shout from a man later, it was gone again. Always in the background, but never too distracting from the party around the room.

  “How are you holding up?” Vincent’s voice was suddenly in her ear as she went to get a third glass of champagne. “Don’t get too tipsy. I k
now how you were the other night from that one rum and Coke.”

  Nala drank it in front of him. “I don’t see any stairs to fall down around here.”

  “I don’t need you losing your cool. I don’t know what you’re like when intoxicated.”

  Nala motioned to the glass of liquor in his hand. “And I don’t know what you’re like either. For all I know you get handsy and do more than kiss by surprise. So you watch it too.”

  This quiet conversation did not go unnoticed by Maggie and Jay, who came over with plastic smiles spreading across their faces. Maggie especially looked too curious for her own good. She reminded Nala of her high school guidance counselor, who made a habit of asking fifty times a day whether Nala had turned in her college applications. No. If she had joined a club to put on her resume. No. If she was doing okay on the anniversary of her father’s death. No. They were off to a great start already.

  “Mags and I were saying that you’re a cute couple,” Jay said with his broad smile. The way the both of them looked at Vincent and Nala made the latter take a small step back, as if she could use her new pal as a meat shield. “Got that fresh couple smell about you. How long you been together?”

  Oh, shit. They hadn’t even gone over such details yet!

  Nala was going to open her mouth and lie, but then remembered she was supposed to be the submissive one and defer to the man of the relationship. Gag. Perhaps it was best for Vincent to spin the tales, anyway. Knowing Nala, she would twist her tongue until none of the lies made sense anymore.

  “Six months,” Vincent said evenly. “You?”

  The seasoned couple exchanged loving glances. “Eight years.”

  “Wow,” Nala let out. “That’s a long time.”

  “Perhaps you two will be so lucky someday.” Maggie winked, revealing shining red eye shadow that blended flawlessly into her surrounding skin. “See you around. Jay and I are going to, ah, relax.”

  Their chuckles were more than telling. The moment they walked away, heading for the hall of bedrooms, Nala turned to Vincent with gossip on her lips.

  “They’re not like the other couples here,” she muttered, curling her arms around his so it looked like she whispered words of adoration into her “Master’s” ear.

  “What do you mean?” he asked. “Because I’m thinking the same thing.”

  Nala nodded. “She called him by his name, for one. All the other women say Master.”

  “And he didn’t act possessive in any way. Suppose I should work on that.”

  “You know, I’m not going to pretend I know everything there is to know about this BDSM thing, but I’m pretty sure you don’t have to act possessive.”

  “Yes, but…” Vincent’s grip tightened on Nala’s waist as their shared enemy approached, his eyes reserved just for them. “When in Rome…”

  Xavier Crow stopped two feet in front of them, his height conveniently between Vincent’s tall gait and Nala’s petite frame. It unnerved Nala how he looked at them like he looked at the other masked couples making their way down the hall to play for this man’s amusement. Open-door policy, huh? Nala already knew that Crow liked to watch more than participate. That much was as obvious as the small wine stain on the man’s white pant leg. Will one of the lingerie-clad women clean that up for him? Nala had to stop before she started to gag.

  “Ah, my new favorite couple.” His voice was like listening to a benevolent dictator appear on the radio for the seven o’clock lies. When Vincent’s fingers pressed deeply into Nala’s flesh, treading dangerously close to her thighs, she did not feel the urge to push him away. If anything, he was the only thing keeping her from having a total meltdown in the presence of her sister’s killer. “I trust that you two are enjoying the party?”

  Nala kept her lips tight. Teeth dug into them, but she would rather bleed than say something she would regret later. Instead, Vincent spoke on both of their behalves, as he should have done anyway.

  “It’s a fantastic party,” he said softly. That hand on Nala’s hip slowly moved upward, wrapping tightly around her toned but small bicep. “Forgive us for not being too active. We’re still taking in the sights and getting a feel for things.” He gently shook his partner. “Especially this one here. She’s not used to so much activity.”

  What a disgusting smile one man could have. Nala didn’t know if she was so disgusted because of who he was, or because she knew it was directed at the supposed love life between her and Vincent. “No worries at all,” Xavier said. “I’d rather new members be completely comfortable before getting too involved. We’ve had some… issues before.”

  “I’m sure you have,” Vincent was quick to say. “We’re a cautious couple, I suppose you could say.” A fun loving smile broke his otherwise stoic demeanor. It took Nala back, who had yet to see such a thing on Vincent’s face. “Although we’re trying to learn how to loosen up.”

  His fingers tapped Nala on the shoulder. She barely had time to brace herself before her head was tipped back and Vincent’s mouth came for hers.

  They must have looked the model couple. Nala, shrinking in her lover’s embrace, holding her head back so she could accept the soft lips on her own. No tongue, thank God. Yet the illusion was there, she was sure, especially as Vincent covered her cheek with his free hand and backed his mouth away without making it look like they no longer kissed. Now that was acting.

  Nala almost let the moment go. She didn’t care that Vincent kissed her, as long as he didn’t get too handsy and he gave her warning – which he did. No, what threw her off balance was realizing that Xavier Crow stood and watched them, a wretched, no, lecherous smile on his slimy face as he probably started growing a hard-on.

  I’m going to be sick.

  “You really are a good looking couple,” Xavier said wistfully. “Take all the time you need. Have a look around. Nobody here is shy… although right now it looks like I’m the only man to talk to.”

  He was right. The other couples had gone to separate rooms to do whatever it was they did. Deep down, Nala knew. Right now she wasn’t going to think about it. Knowing she was surrounded by couples having sex was bad enough. She didn’t need to actually imagine it.

  “Excuse me,” she muttered, gently pushing away from Vincent’s embrace. “All that champagne is catching up to me.” She wasn’t lying. Her bladder was starting to do that knowing dance and threatened to embarrass her in this lofty suite.

  “Of course.” Xavier pointed down the hall. “Bathroom is all the way down there. Good time to let us boys have a chat anyway, eh, Vince?”

  This was the second time Nala heard Vincent be called that, and both times the man flinched as if he would rather be called Dog. Nala put it in the back of her mind as she hurried down the hall, intent on making it to the bathroom before total discomfort settled in.

  Since everyone else was busy making merry the old-fashioned way, Nala had the restroom to herself, although she could see makeup smears and discarded tissues on the sink. She was less impressed with the condom wrapper in the nearest trashcan, but didn’t think much about it as she did her business and attempted to rearrange her dress so it was more comfortable. The more she walked around, the more it rode up her ass and outdid a damn thong. Maybe she had actually gained weight since moving to Portland.

  The hall was dark when she reemerged. Nala stood at the far end, opening her satchel to make sure her belongings were where they belonged. If Vincent had a habit of checking his cufflinks five times an hour, then Nala was allowed to be paranoid about her wallet.

  “Yes, yes!”

  Nala nearly dropped her satchel as that cry pierced her ear. Without thinking, she looked to her right and saw through a generous crack in the nearest door.

  The sound came from Robin, who perched upon a large bed, her fingers wrapped around the edge while her knees dug into the plush bedspread. The skirt of her dress was hiked over her hips, exposing her round, rose-colored ass which accepted yet another spank from Lucian.
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  A man whose clothes were halfway off and whose cock was rammed deep into his lover’s cunt. Oh my God.

  All right, yes, this is exactly what was meant by open-door policy. Couples having sex in supposed private, but with the doors open to varying degrees so anyone – especially Xavier – couch watch with glee. Hell no! That’s what Nala thought, and yet here she was, standing completely still while her gaze remained transfixed on the couple going at it.

  “That’s right,” Lucian growled, his hand coming back down with a heavy smack! “You love having your cunt ravaged by thick cock, don’t you? Don’t you?”

  Robin’s usually sweet face twisted into a hedonistic gape as she accepted a hard and rough fuck. “Yes, Master!” she cried again, knees slipping farther apart on the bed. Her arms moved forward to gather more purchase, revealing both of her breasts bouncing from the top of her dress. Nala remained absolutely transfixed… and she didn’t know why…

  Okay, so she had never seen people having sex like this. Okay, not in real life. The woman had seen porn before, after all. But this was her unsolicited initiation into the life of a voyeur, and dear God, was she actually getting…

  What the fuck…

  Am I getting turned on?

  No way. Nala wasn’t a super sexual creature to begin with. Plus, she was in the presence of Xavier Crow, a man who could shut down her entire sex drive for ten years with one stinkin’ glance. Yet here she was, standing in a dark hallway, peering through an ajar door and watching a beautiful woman get fucked by a man in a pristine – all right, now wrinkled – suit. The kind of man who probably spent his days put together for board meetings, video chats across the world, and the myriad of business associates who came in and out of his office. For meals in classy restaurants Nala could never afford. For limousines and Town Cars…

  Holy shit, it was hot.

  Her hand clasped across her mouth as she realized this, and shamefully – although she had no idea why she felt ashamed – she scurried to a darker corner of the hall and stared like a teenage boy finding his first Playboy.