Destiny: Hilltops Series - Book One

by Faith Starr

  “Did you enjoy the show?” He set the pile down in front of him.

  “All in a day’s work.” Yeah, right. Maybe if I kept the awkward smile on my face, he’d believe me.

  My nails dug into my palms. Hopefully the indentations would come out.

  Stop this madness. I opened my hands and clasped them on my lap so I wouldn’t cause any further damage.

  “Sure it is.” He reached for a paperclip from a little plastic holder to secure his papers. Once they were to his liking, he tossed them onto some others already stacked in the corner of his desk. It was quite a huge collection too.

  What else of his was huge?

  Stop it!

  “Any questions about the scene?” His tone was serious and businesslike while my thoughts were in the gutter.

  “Yes. I do actually. The woman, Lacy. Is she single?”

  “No. She’s married.”

  Huh? “Then why didn’t her husband participate with her?”

  He swiped his hand across the front of his desk, brushing away dirt or crumbs. I didn’t see any.

  “Just to be clear, Lacy has agreed to me answering personal questions about her as long as you don’t use her name in your research. That’s all part of the confidentiality agreements you signed.”

  His attention remained fixed on me. His blue eyes almost hypnotized me to the point where I began to lose focus of what he was saying.

  “Of course.” I wasn’t quite sure of what I’d agreed to, but oh well.

  “Her husband only fulfills a certain part of what she needs. She’s found she yearns for more.”

  Ditto for me. And if Noah kept looking at me with such heat in those Sinatra eyes of his, the ice-cube exterior I tried to put forth was going to melt, like my insides were already in the process of doing.

  His desk got my full attention, anything to help get my concentration back on target. “And he doesn’t mind that his wife is having sex with other men here at the club?”

  “I’m hearing a bit of disdain in your voice. I thought psychologists were supposed to be objective?”

  Damn. He’d called me out. I felt like I’d been caught red-handed stealing Swedish fish from an open bin in a candy shop. Talk about feeling intimidated. This was definitely his dominant side talking.

  “You’re right. I was out of line. I apologize.” I shifted in my chair, this time not feeling as secure.

  “In answer to your question, neither one of us had actual intercourse with her.”

  Excuse me? “But you touched her to the point of orgasm.” That certainly counted as sexual relations in my book.

  “I’m hearing your scorn again. Members come here to explore their sexuality without judgment. Lacy’s husband understands she needs more than he can give her. They’ve agreed upon what can and can’t be done here at the club. Kissing is a hard limit for them. Sexual intercourse and penetration of any kind are prohibited in all open areas of the club as well as between staff and members, so that’s a nonissue in itself.”

  “You’re saying kissing is a hard limit for them, yet you and Master Derek bringing her to orgasm by stimulating her isn’t?” I didn’t know if I shook my head in confusion or because I still didn’t grasp his rationale.

  “It’s not your place to make that call. Those decisions were made between Lacy and her husband prior to the scene. She feels that participating in scenes here enhances her relationship at home with her husband. He feels content knowing exactly what’s going on and that she’s only role-playing. There are no emotional attachments between any of the parties involved.”

  My brain tried everything it could to separate my personal beliefs from the objective role I was supposed to be portraying.

  “Does she always do scenes with the same Dominants?”

  “Yes. She either plays with Master Derek or Master Mitch, and sometimes with both at the same time. As I’ve already told you, Mitch couldn’t be here tonight. Lacy and her husband have an agreement, if one of them can’t participate for whatever reason, I’m the only one who has the privilege to step in and substitute.”

  For some reason, the way he slouched in his chair and leaned back gave me the impression he didn’t view it as a privilege.

  “Earlier you mentioned you usually don’t do scenes here at the club. Why’s that?”

  “We all have different roles here. Like I said earlier, mine’s more behind the scenes in nature. I remain here in my office.”

  “By choice?”

  “Are we engaging in psychotherapy right now, or are you still asking me questions to assist you with your research?”

  Damn. He had caught me again.

  He folded his arms against his chest, an amused smile spread across his beautiful face. He was smarter than I’d thought.

  “Sorry. Bad habit, I guess.”

  “Let me ask you a question, Jordin.” He sat forward, leaning his elbows on his desk, his index fingers joined together against his lips.

  Ah, those lips. And the way his eyes stared into mine while waiting for my answer had me practically hyperventilating. Noah Dorian oozed sexuality and dominance, and unfortunately for me, I got to experience it firsthand. He was quite good at maintaining control. And I was usually quite good at not letting others take mine away from me.

  Until now.

  I took a slow, deep breath before responding. “Okay.” Why did I have the feeling I had just put my foot in my mouth?

  “Why did you choose to do your research on this particular topic?”

  “Curiosity.”

  “They say curiosity killed the cat.”

  “Yet here I am alive and kicking.” I prayed my crossed leg didn’t actually kick in the air to mimic what I had said. But it had. Prayer didn’t help in this specific instance.

  “That you are. I find it interesting that of all the topics one could choose to study, you chose this one. Have you ever engaged in this type of play?”

  My eyebrows rose. I was taken aback by his question. “What? Me?” I think he knew who I was referring to. The visual of me touching my chest to clarify was totally unnecessary. “Who’s doing the psychoanalysis now? That’s a rather personal question. Don’t you think?”

  “I apologize if I broached a sore subject.”

  He leaned back in his chair again, the smug bastard.

  “It’s not a touchy subject at all. But it is rather personal. But to answer your question anyway, no, I’ve never participated in anything like this.” There. It was out on the table. I had nothing to be ashamed of. Then why was I slouching in my chair with my arms crossed in front of me like a spoiled child who didn’t get her way?

  “Are you opposed?”

  His narcissistic smile made me want to whack it off. He knew exactly where he was going with this line of questioning and seemed to be getting joy out of seeing me squirm.

  “Why the twenty questions about me all of a sudden?”

  “Just curious.”

  Smartass. And there was his frickin’ arrogance again.

  “Well, you did tell me what curiosity could do.”

  And away went the vanity, his expression now unreadable.

  “I certainly did. Do you have any additional questions before we finish up?” He tapped his desk, looking more than ready to adjourn our meeting. Seems he didn’t like seeing my assertive side. “I have some work to attend to.”

  Maybe Noah Dorian wasn’t used to women speaking up to him. If that was the case, boy, was he in for a treat with me.

  In all honesty, he affected me beyond belief. I couldn’t think straight while in his presence, so bringing up anything else was definitely out of the question.

  The worst part was I had been so enthralled by the scene I had forgotten to take notes for later clarification. Not that it mattered anyway. Noah was playing mind games with me, and my thoughts had become a jumbled mess.

  “I think I have all I need for now.” I rose from the faux safety and security of my chair.

  �
�Are you in need of more visits?”

  “I would appreciate any and all you’ll allow, but I don’t want to impose.” Could he possibly stop undressing me with his eyes?

  “Let me speak with some of the members. I’ll be in touch.” He walked around his desk to escort me out.

  “That would be great. Thank you, Noah.” His boyish smile had me breathing hard. Still, I wasn’t about to bow down and call him Sir, even if he was the sexiest man I’d ever met.

  He followed me out of his office and to the front entrance.

  “I’m glad you came tonight. You’re not at all what I expected.”

  “Really? And what did you expect?” I crossed my arms in front of me. I couldn’t help but act defensive. What in the hell did he think I was going to look like, The Creature from the Black Lagoon?

  He smiled. “Let’s just say I’m pleasantly surprised.”

  His reply surprised me. Breathe. Mouth, please don’t fail me now. “I guess, thank you.”

  “No. Thank you. I’m glad you opened your mind to something new beyond simply reading about it. I think with time you’ll come to see the pleasure this type of lifestyle can bring to people, and hopefully, it’ll take down whatever barriers are keeping you on the other side of the fence.”

  “This isn’t a personal journey, Noah.” I shook my head for emphasis and to clarify my intent, probably more for my own reassurance.

  “I think it very well can be.” His smug smile returned for the umpteenth time.

  “I think you’re trying to manipulate my research.” See? I could act as full of myself as he could.

  “I don’t think I need to manipulate anything. You’ll come to your own conclusions, and I already know what the end result will be.”

  Cocky son of a bitch. But damn if my stomach wasn’t twisted in knots and my thighs on fire.

  “Good night, Noah.” I craved air.

  “Good night, Jordin. You’ll hear from me soon.”

  Not soon enough.

  I made a beeline for my car and started the ignition, turning the A/C on high, and directing the vents in my direction.

  4

  Noah

  The hot water pouring down over my body felt heavenly. It was almost two o’clock in the morning, and I was exhausted. It had been a late night due to Derek needing assistance monitoring the fantasy suites since Mitch wasn’t there to do so.

  The two of us had spoken about hiring a separate bouncer to handle the fantasy wing. Derek couldn’t be everywhere at once, and Mitch was becoming too unreliable. Tomorrow the three of us would sit down together and make a plan.

  But right now my thoughts were flooded with images of Jordin Turner’s long curly brown hair, big amber eyes, and nice rack nestled underneath her silk top. I didn’t need thoughts about her distracting me, and yet here I was with my hand doing its thing on my cock in the middle of the night. This was a huge problem for me. Her feistiness was the ultimate turn-on. I liked it, a little too much for my own good.

  I tied my robe and sank into the soft leather of my sofa, turning on the tube to find one of my favorite HGTV shows already in progress. Unfortunately, right before it got to a good part my phone rang.

  “Hey Noah, can I come up?”

  Oh shit. “Why’re you still downstairs, Evie? It’s late.”

  “We had a few left in the dungeon who didn’t want to leave. Then I had to clean up.”

  “I’ll unlock the door.” I still had a little energy left in me. Living upstairs from the club made life convenient. Derek, Mitch, and I each had our own apartments located on the second floor. We had a separate entrance downstairs with a private and coded elevator. Nobody could get to our floor unless we allowed it, or unless it was the authorities. None of the members knew we lived up here unless we told them.

  Evie was a server in the dungeon. She had only worked with us for about three months when our business relationship took a turn for weekly fucks. No strings attached. Just the way I liked it.

  The sound of her shoes tapping against the floor in the hallway got louder as she approached my door. I peered over at it and watched for her to enter.

  She quickly slipped inside. “Derek’s locking up downstairs.” She dropped her purse on the floor in the foyer and sashayed over to the couch, standing beside it.

  “Did he see you get in the elevator?”

  “No. Don’t worry. Nobody saw me. I don’t understand why you won’t tell him about us.”

  Excuse me? “Because there is no us.”

  She knew the drill. No kissing. No comforting. No small talk. Just fucking. We were both on the same page as far as how this shit went down.

  “You know what I mean.” Her disappointment was evident by her pout and lowered brows.

  “I keep my business private. Derek and Mitch don’t need to know about everything that goes on in my apartment.” I glanced at the TV screen. Shit, a dump of a house had gotten a complete renovation. Now I was going to miss the great reveal.

  “Would you mind if I took a quick shower?”

  “Knock yourself out. I already took one or else I’d join you.”

  “You still can.” She removed her top to reveal a lacy red bra. The shirt got chucked on the floor. She sure had a bad habit of dumping shit there.

  For some strange reason, her offer didn’t do anything for me. I just hoped she would take her time in the shower so I could finish watching this episode. I wanted to see how the piece of shit house turned out.

  “No, thanks. You go on ahead. I’ll be out here waiting.”

  Evie could sulk all she wanted to. I had no plans of moving.

  About fifteen minutes later, she strolled out wearing nothing but a towel. “Care to join me?”

  I suddenly got the urge to move.

  Another thing got tossed on the floor. My eyes weren’t on it either. I didn’t care how wide or narrow the hips were, how flat or round the stomach was, but the breasts? They were my weakness. I could drown in a pool of tits and claim to have lived a full life. And she had a nice set of them too. At least my dick thought so.

  We went into my bedroom. Her naked body got comfy on the bed where she lay down and presented herself to me.

  Nice. I nodded in appreciation and approached her. “You won’t be needing these right now.” I took hold of her hands and cuffed them to the headboard with a pair of restraints I had conveniently stashed away in my nightstand.

  Strangely, an odd sensation shot through me, and I instantaneously lost the desire. What the fuck? I never lost the desire. Well, almost never. And even worse was here Evie was handcuffed to my headboard, hunger emanating from her pores, and I wanted her to leave.

  Taking a deep breath, I turned around, rubbing my now sweaty palms together. This type of shit didn’t happen to me.

  Maybe when I looked at her again, I would have a change of heart.

  “Noah, I’m waiting.” She sang the words.

  No such luck. Her full hips gently swayed in offering on the mattress beneath her, her knees spread wide, her tongue licking her full lips, her eyes begging for me to get on with it. But I didn’t want to.

  Fuck!

  Poor Evie would be waiting a long time.

  Carefully, I unhooked the fuzzy black cuffs.

  Her brows went down questioningly. “What’re you doing? I like being tied up.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t do this tonight.”

  What guy sent away a naked and willing woman who had just been bound to his bed?

  Me, that’s fucking who.

  Back in the living room I fetched her clothing, anger now consuming me. I brought her garments into my bedroom.

  She sat on the bed, confusion written all over her. I placed her skirt and top neatly on the bed next to her.

  “I don’t get it. Did I do something wrong?”

  I hated to act like such a prick by kicking her out, but it was the right thing to do. It wasn’t fair to either of us for me to go through the motions when I wa
sn’t feeling it.

  “You did nothing, Evie. It’s me. I’m sorry.”

  She stood with a long face and started to dress. The least I could do was step out of the room to give her privacy.

  Sitting on the couch, I grabbed for the remote. I loved how I could speak into it and tell it what I wanted to watch. It was cool as shit. I resumed watching HGTV.

  She made her presence known, her feet slamming down against my marble floor. Christ, she better not fucking chip it with those heels. She stood next to the couch, glaring at me with her arms crossed in front of her. What the hell did she want me to say?

  “How about a rain check? I’m not feeling like myself tonight.”

  Her disappointment turned to concern, her brow creasing. “Are you sick? It’s not like you to say no.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I’m coming down with something.” I knew exactly what was wrong with me. I couldn’t stop thinking about Jordin Turner. That was a major problem.

  “Well, rest up. I hope you feel better.”

  I milked it for all it was worth by getting up sluggishly and dragging my feet across the floor while walking her to the door. She smiled warmly. At least she had ditched her anger. Unfortunately, I still had enough of that emotion inside for the both of us.

  “See you tomorrow.” She picked up her purse from the floor, slinging the strap over her shoulder, and made her exit.

  5

  Jordin

  “So how was it?” It was way too early for Casey’s inquisition.

  “Interesting.”

  “Interesting? Interesting is watching How Things Are Made on the Discovery Channel. Going to a private BDSM club is not interesting. It’s fucking hot. I want to know about everything and anything you saw.”

  She hooked her arm through mine and smiled. She wanted me to spill the beans. Sorry, cookie. I hadn’t been awake long enough for show-and-tell.

  “Casey, I went there to do research. That’s all.”