Black Light: Scandalized
Page 1
Black Light: Scandalized
Livia Grant
©2019 by Livia Grant
All rights reserved.
No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published by Black Collar Press
Black Light: Scandalized
by Livia Grant
e-book ISBN: 978-1-947559-17-2
Print ISBN: 978-1-947559-18-9
Cover Art by Eris Adderly, http://erisadderly.com/
Editor: Sandy Ebel, Personal Touch Editing
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
First Electronic Publish Date, October 2019
First Print Publish Date, October 2019
Dedication
So I have a confession. There were many days this year that I wasn't sure this day would ever happen. It wasn't because I didn't love this story. On the contrary, I am going to have a hard time saying goodbye to these characters. I love each and every one of them, not only because they shared their personal stories with me (and by extension you), but because they all spent the last year rattling around in my head with me as I've struggled hard to keep my author career moving forward.
In case you didn't know it, being an author is fucking hard. I don't say this to garner any sympathy because I truly LOVE being an author. It is my passion. My dream. The only thing that could make it better is if I got to do it full time.
But, you see, I am also blessed to have a fabulous day job/career that I also love. This year my day job exploded on me (in a great way) and I have found myself struggling every single day to juggle all of the things I have on my plate. Even for a certified Type-A workaholic like myself, I know I've bitten off more than I can chew.
My family and friends have taken the biggest hit. I am so grateful for all of the help I get from so many people in my life, both in real life and authorlandia for their support and understanding behind the scenes as I do my best to get things back under control. I always worry when I list names because by definition, I'm leaving out so many others who have been there for me, but I would have lost it long ago without Niki Roge, my awesome PA, helping me so much every single day. And my alpha reader, Katie Reads, did triple duty on this book - part alpha reader, part cheerleader, part psychiatrist. And of course, my BFF, Jennifer Bene. In spite of having one of the hardest years of her life, she has always been there for me.
I am so excited (and a tad nervous) to turn Black Light: Scandalized out into the world. Any author will tell you that some books are just more special than others. We know it as we're writing. Maybe it's the characters, sometimes it's their story. This one has it all.
I can't wait to see if you agree.
To you wonderful readers, from the bottom of my heart, thanks for you support and patience as you waited for me to rip this baby out of my heart. Sorry if I left a few tears and drops of blood on your kindle.
Love,
Livia
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
About the Author
Coming Soon! Black Light: Brave
There’s more to discover in the world of Black Light!
Black Collar Press
Chapter 1
“Look what the cat dragged in. You’re almost an hour late.”
Nalani Ione teased as her good friend and boss, Madison Taylor, sauntered into the second-floor Runway office. The normally stylish manager was looking a bit crumpled in an outfit that looked suspiciously like the clothes she’d had on the day before. Nalani was pretty sure the crusty-looking white stain on her boss’s wrinkled skirt was a leftover deposit from one Trevor McLean.
Madison plopped down into her office chair with a whoosh, almost knocking over the tall cup of aromatic coffee from a shop on nearby Rodeo Drive. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m salaried and not hourly,” she snapped.
“Whoa, seems like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Nalani joked.
Her friend grabbed her coffee and took a long drag of caffeine before replying. “That would imply that I actually got some sleep.” Despite her disheveled state, Madison couldn’t hide the sly grin slowly lighting up her face. “The man is a sex god. I’ve never met anyone who comes even close to his…” Madison paused, a twinkle in her eye as she chose her words carefully. “Let’s just say he is very gifted… and he is very generous about sharing those gifts.”
A pang of longing threatened to put a damper on Nalani’s sunny Saturday as she realized how lucky her friend was to have found one of the good guys. Trevor McLean was everything a man should be in Nalani’s dreams—tall, dark, and oh so sexy. Most importantly, he was a gentleman who would treat Madison like the Valley Princess she was.
Madison took another swig of coffee and added, “Thank goodness I have another outfit here to change into, or I would have been even later.”
The mammoth grandfather clock in the hall outside the club office chimed one regal bong telling Nalani she was running late. She motioned a quick wave to the tired manager of Runway as she headed out of the office and down the long hall toward the walk-in closet where she stored the tools of her housekeeping trade.
Like every lock in the building, Nalani leaned in to provide her retinal scan to gain entry into the spacious closet, lined with shelves of linens and cleaning supplies. In the middle of the space waited her rolling cart, already stocked and ready to tackle the afternoon’s work.
All eight guest rooms in the mansion had been occupied the night before and were expected to be fully booked again that night as well, which meant she had just a few hours to return the messy suites back into the pristine and elegant rooms rich people gladly paid up to five-grand a night for on weekends. A couple VIPs from the band performing a live concert in the ballroom-turned-dance-club would be arriving in just a few hours. And since it was a Saturday, every unspoken for room would be snapped up by the end of the night, taken by horny couples unable to wait the short drive home before consummating the sexual dance they’d started in one of the two clubs on the floors below.
She waited until she’d arrived in front of the first suite door to pull her smartphone out of the deep pocket of her neat uniform dress. It only took a moment to pull up the housekeeping app they used to track arrivals and departures of their guests. While the mansion wasn’t a traditional hotel, the trio of owners—Jaxson, Chase, and Emma—spared no expense to make sure their employees had the tools they needed to do their jobs.
Not for the first time, Nalani said a silent prayer of thanks for the steady job. Since starting at Runway, she finally felt like she was in control of her life again… no small feat, considering where she’d been just a few short years ago.
Determined to knock out her work on this floor as quickly as she could, she let herself into the London suite recently vacated by the major-league baseball player who’d slept there the night before. A quick scan of the spacious room made her suspect he’d invited half his team to party with him. She sighed as she went to work, cleaning up the dozen empty beer bottles scattered on every flat surface of the space. The number of spent condoms piled into the small wastepaper basket near the desk told the story of the debauchery that had taken place just a few hours before.
A familiar tingling sensation sprang to life in her pussy. She considered her perpetual sexual frustration a small price to pay for landing the job working for the Cartwright-Davidson’s. As if caring for the well-used bedrooms didn’t present enough sexual fodder for her imagination, cleaning in the BDSM club, Black Light, had been eye opening. She could feel her cheeks flushing red just thinking about the odd pieces of furniture, sexual equipment, and erotic artwork on display a few floors below her.
A piercing cry broke her out of her daydreaming. It had been muffled and short. She stood stock still, listening hard, finally deciding she’d been hearing things since music playing in the distance was the only sound flitting through the space. She’d just resumed scrubbing the bathroom sink when a much louder, sharper scream unmistakably rang out.
Peeling off her rubber gloves and throwing them into the sink, Nalani rushed through the suite and out into the hall. The screaming had stopped, but she was able to follow the muffled cries down the hall until she stopped in front of the Hong Kong suite. It was the last room, farthest from the grand staircase, and the most opulent.
She didn’t need to check her app to know which guest was registered in the room. Henry Ainsworth, Hollywood’s moneyman—and as best she could tell, resident asshole—loved this particular suite. In fact, he often paid a premium to secure this particular room on the weekends he was in town. He said it was because he loved the views from the balcony out onto the spacious grounds, but Nalani suspected it was the added privacy of being at the end of the hall.
This wasn’t the first time she’d heard crying behind the French double doors of the Hong Kong room and suspected it wouldn’t be the last—and she hated it. She knew she should mind her own business, after all, the privacy afforded the rich and famous while in the mansion was exactly what kept them coming back to dump their money, again and again. She’d watched the fans flock around the celebrities, selling their soul for a brush with the rich and famous. Being chosen to accompany someone like Henry Ainsworth to his expensive suite was considered a score for most women. They just wouldn’t realize the high, very personal price they would be paying for the privilege until it was too late.
The crying behind the door stopped. Nalani should leave. It was none of her business what two consenting adults chose to do in the privacy of their own suite. Since Mr. Ainsworth had rented the suite for the entire weekend, perhaps she’d be lucky enough to be able to avoid cleaning his room today. As handsome as the older gentleman was, he creeped her out.
She had just turned to walk away when a rhythmic pounding filled the hall. She didn’t need to use her imagination to picture what was happening on the other side of the French doors. For the briefest of moments, the thrum in her pussy returned, reminding her it had been entirely too long since she’d even been on a date, let alone been close enough to anyone to be intimate. But all thoughts of sex vanished when the pounding was drowned out by the long wail of “Stop!” screamed from behind the locked doors.
Nalani halted in her tracks. She was tempted to throw her hands over her ears to block the escalating sounds of distress from inside the suite. The walls weren’t thin, which meant the sharp sounds of a hard banging accompanied by escalating panicked sobs alarmed her. Unable to ignore her conscious, she spun and returned to the door. Her hand itched to pound on the wood, but she forced herself to respect the promise of extraordinary privacy for their VIP guests like Mr. Ainsworth. She froze, indecisive. Maybe she should run get Madison to see how she would like to handle….
The renewed piercing scream of “It hurts!” followed by what sounded like rumbling laughter helped her make up her mind. She stepped up to the retinal scanner to the right of the door, and the lock clicked. Before she could lose her nerve, she barged through the door, determined to help the poor woman crying out.
She rushed through the tiled foyer, rounding the corner into the open floor plan of the opulent suite. Too late, she realized just how different it was to see a woman in distress rather than hearing it. The bravado she’d felt to rush in to help fled as quickly as the breath in her lungs when her brain caught up with the scene in front of her. The vision slammed into her, making her sway on her feet.
The redheaded woman in front of her couldn’t be more than twenty-one years old. While she may qualify as a woman, she had a child-like vulnerability compared to the much older man who presently had his hands wrapped around the young woman’s throat from behind.
It wasn’t that the crying woman was naked that shocked Nalani the most. It was the absolutely obscene position she’d been tied down in, coupled with the bright red stripes sprayed across her otherwise milky-white skin that upset her. That and the fact despite him looking directly at Nalani, Henry Ainsworth hadn’t slowed his thrusting hips at all. A devious smirk lit his otherwise handsome face as he raked his hungry gaze up and down Nalani even as he dipped his cock again and again into another woman’s body.
The redhead choked out another sob as tears and snot fell down her face to plop into the pool of wetness already waiting on the seat of the chair below her.
Why isn’t he stopping? I know he sees me.
“You’ll have to just wait your turn, honey. I’ll be done with this one soon, then we can have some fun.”
It took a full five seconds for his words to register in her brain. The asshole thought she’d come to join him, not stop him.
Well, of course, he thinks that. You haven’t said a word.
“You’re hurting her.”
The asshole had the nerve to grin, keeping his thrusts hard and fast as he stood behind the woman draped over and tied-down to the tall-backed chair in the middle of the room. He’d spread her legs wide to the outside edge of the chair while her arms and hands were tied to the armrests of the chair. The hand printed breasts swayed under her to the brutal rhythm of the fucking in action.
“She likes it.” He slapped the woman’s asscheek as he added, “Don’t you, slut?” He punctuated his question with an extra hard thrust that drew a renewed cry out of the abused woman. The resulting volley of swats against her ass increased until she was sobbing.
“Stop! Can’t you see you’re really hurting her?”
“Of course, I see, and I’m telling you she likes it, don’t you whore?” His voice had turned menacing as he grabbed the long red locks and yanked his partner’s head back with a snap.
Red fingermarks circled her stretched neck where the older man had squeezed too hard. The woman’s panicked gaze met Nalani’s as she cried her lie, “I like it! I like it!”
The asshole had the nerve to bark a laugh as he simultaneously let go of his grip on her hair, letting the woman’s head flop, pulled down by gravity and defeat, finally stepping away from her body.
Henry Ainsworth stalked around his captive, beelining his way toward Nalani in all of his naked glory. His sudden movement caught her off guard, distracted as she was by the sight of his engorged, ugly cock, jutting out from his manscaped groin. The veined shaft bent to the side at an odd angle.
He was almost all the way to her when her fight-or-flight instincts kicked in. Nalani spun around and took off, running toward the exit. When she’d entered the room, she’d only thought about the safety of the woman tied to the chair. It had never dawned on her that her own safety might be at risk if she intervened.
Her hand was on the handle, the door opened a few inches, when Henry Ainsworth slammed the weight of his bod
y against her back, crashing them both forward against the wood door, slamming it closed with a loud bang.
She fought to be free of his pressing body, alarmed at how hard the penis was poking against her lower back.
“Shhh. I’ll show you a good time. Come join our party.”
“Are you crazy? I’m working!”
“I’m sure Jaxson won’t mind you taking extra good care of one of his VIP’s. You can start by telling me your name.”
“I said, let me go!” Truly panicked, Nalani flailed as hard as she could to be free of him. He leaned in close enough, his bad breath almost made her gag.
“Now, now. If you don’t settle down, I just might be forced to let Jaxson and Chase know about your major mistake today.”
“What mistake? You’re the one making the huge mistake,” she shouted.
“No, little voyeur. I was having consensual fun with my guest. You, on the other hand, broke an important policy by letting yourself into my room without knocking first and without identifying yourself as housekeeping when you entered. Then you stood there, uninvited, spying on me having sex. I’m pretty sure you’d be in a lot of trouble with the owners… if they ever found out about it that is.”