Cat Haus - the Complete Story (Billionaire Bad Boys)

by Cat Johnson, Carrie Lane

  I frowned, trying to figure out which question to tackle first when the house phone rang. Amazingly, the woman reached out and lifted the receiver as if she'd worked here forever. "Hamilton Enterprises . . . uh, excuse me, I mean the Cat Haus. This is Mona speaking."

  Mona. Good whore's name. My lips twitched with a smile at that thought combined with my amusement over the staunch Mona having to answer the phone by saying the Cat Haus. If I could get her to add the line how may I service you today I might die laughing.

  "Yes, sir. It will take some getting used to," Mona said to whoever the sir was on the other end of the line. She paused, listening, before she nodded. "Yes, sir. I've made some good progress. I've gotten through a lot of what's on the computer and so far the recordkeeping looks surprisingly well-organized."

  I shamelessly eavesdropped on her conversation. She hadn't asked me to leave so I figured it was her own fault I was still in the room.

  "Yes, sir. They seem to be conducting business as usual." Her gaze cut to me. "There is a Cate here now. She was inquiring about the former owner . . . Yes, sir. Hold one moment."

  On top of her mentioning me by name, she surprised me even more by holding the phone out. "Mr. Hamilton would like to speak with you."

  Mr. Hamilton, aka John my former john, wanted to speak with me? I took the receiver. "Hello?"

  "Cate. How are you feeling this morning?" His question and the warmth and concern in his voice inexplicably threatened to bring tears to my eyes. Just like he had done last night when he'd come to my room to check on me after the poker game.

  "Fine."

  There was a pause before he said, "I’m not sure I believe you. If you need some time off or anything at all, I'll arrange it."

  "No, thanks." I didn't know what I needed to feel better about last night, but whatever it was, I doubted John could provide it.

  "I hope Mona told you that Gus is no longer an issue. You don't have to worry about him being back."

  "Yeah, she told me."

  There was another pause where I imagined I could almost hear the wheels in his brain turning. "You're wondering what's going to happen now, aren't you?"

  I let out a short laugh as he guessed exactly what I had been thinking. "Yeah, I am."

  The damn man was too observant. He knew I was wondering about my future and that of the Cat Haus, but at least he couldn't guess how my heart pounded at the sound of his voice in my ear. Or how for hours before falling to sleep last night I'd imagined John inside me, erasing the memory of the Texan plowing into me on the poker table.

  John probably couldn't guess how I'd crafted revenge scenarios for both Gus and his poker buddy, either. My favorite was the one where I paid some guy with a huge dick to bend Gus over the table and fuck him in the ass until he cried like a baby. In my fantasy the big Texan who'd used me in front of everyone last night got the same treatment after being forced to watch Gus suffer it first.

  "I wish I knew, Cate." John's voice brought me back to the conversation about the future of the Cat Haus. "Honestly, when I went there for a card game I had no plans of walking out holding the deed."

  I let out a short laugh. "If it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure Gus hadn't planned on you doing that either."

  "No doubt." He blew out a sigh. "I need some guidance here, Cate. What do I need to do to maintain operations until I figure out a plan for the long term?"

  "I'll tell you what you need. You need a madam. We had one until about two months ago. A good one too, but she and Gus had a huge fight and she stormed out. Last I heard she'd gotten hired by the competition. Gus had been covering her duties in the office since she left. You know, scheduling appointments, answering the phones, dealing with payments."

  Mona glanced sideways in my direction. She was probably praying her boss didn't assign madam duty to her after she was done balancing the books, or whatever.

  "A madam." John paused for a good beat or two. "All right. And how do I go about hiring one of those?"

  "I'm not sure." I'd only been in this business a couple of years myself, and before that I was an English student at UNLV. I was a little out of my element as far as giving advice on running a brothel, though far less so than John was. "I guess you can try to find a working girl with a lot of years in the business who wants to retire from the floor and move into management."

  "Anyone there fit that description?"

  "Here?" I laughed. "No. Gus liked his girls young. This is probably the greenest crew in the state. I've been here second to longest and I've only been around two years."

  He let out another breath, sounding weary. "All right. I'll see what I can arrange."

  "Okay. Until then, we can all take turns in the office if you need us to. And Tito can man the front door and watch the security cameras. He's done it before when Gus would disappear for the night." Gus had been disappearing more and more often recently. Now I knew he'd been gambling away the profits, and hallelujah for that because it led to him being gone now.

  "Thank you, Cate. I appreciate all your help and your suggestions."

  "No problem." I bit my tongue to keep from asking him if and when he'd be stopping by to check on his new business.

  It was crazy. It was stupid. Working girls didn't get attached to the guys they screwed. But we also didn't usually get to spend the entire night sleeping in bed with them, or in the morning have breakfast followed by more sex.

  Though I didn't think it was the sex with John that was getting to me. It was his compassion and how he treated me like I was his equal. How he acted as if he needed my advice. In this situation, I guess he did, because I certainly had more experience in a whorehouse than John and his trusty sidekick, Mona.

  "And seriously, Cate. Please try and take it easy for a while. Do whatever you need to for yourself." There he went again, being sweet and making me want to cry, which was exactly why I couldn't take the time off he'd suggested. I needed to get back on the horse, or in this case, the penis. The moment I hung up this phone, that's what I'd do.

  "Aye, aye, captain." I joked through the tightness in my throat.

  He laughed. "All right, I'll leave you be. Can you put Mona back on?"

  "Sure thing." I thrust the phone at her. "He wants to talk to you again."

  She took the receiver and I left Mona to her business so I could go tend to mine. I was only a couple of steps down the hall when I heard her say, "Yes, sir, she does seem very capable. I'll make sure to go to her if I have any questions."

  Even when I wasn't speaking directly with him, the damn man had still said something to make me feel special. I noticed how my pulse was beating faster.

  Shit. Hopefully, he'd stay far, far away for a while until I got my head on straight.

  CHAPTER 8

  A funny thing happened to me starting that day. There was a shift in my attitude. I became a no nonsense, take no shit kind of girl. Everything changed from the way it had been.

  No more negotiating. I told the customer the price, if he didn’t like it, he could leave.

  No lowering my standards in exchange for raising the price. If a customer asked for something I wasn't comfortable with, I told him sorry, I wasn't his girl but I was sure one of the others could accommodate him.

  If a guy didn't want to wear a condom, that was too damn bad. I told him it was the law and to get the hell out if he couldn't abide by it.

  My bottom line suffered, and I suppose so did the house's income, but I didn't care. John had said to do whatever I needed to for myself, and this was what I needed right now. I think my new attitude showed, and my reputation as a bitch spread. Some customers avoided me like the plague and went directly for the giggling, baby-talking airheads, but some men came right to me. Once alone with them, I realized they wanted me to dominate them. Needed me to take control over them.

  I started to see a niche market and I filled it. I didn't have the skills or the experience to be a dominatrix, but hell I figured I could learn enough
to fake it. We did have Wi-Fi in the house. I could use a search engine as well as the next girl. You can find pretty much anything on the internet these days. And most of the men who came here interested in that kind of stuff just wanted the fantasy. They didn't live the BDSM lifestyle. If they had, they would have gone to one of the clubs catering to that specifically, not to a hooker in a brothel.

  I started to dress more and more to fit the part. I bought new outfits. Black leather masks and bustiers. A latex catsuit. Thigh high boots with stiletto heels designed to hurt. I started carrying a flogger in the parlor and I invested in new toys to use on the men who wanted me to dominate them. I researched pegging and bought a strap-on harness with three different size dildos. I'd always owned a pair of handcuffs, but I upped my game and bought a ball gag, and a leash and collar.

  I accumulated my accessories and wardrobe over the weeks following Gus's departure. I guess it kind of crept up on me, building, until one day I was starting to look like a full-fledged Domme.

  When I went to a lineup suited up in an outfit so over the top that even the other girls looked at me funny, I realized I might have gone over the edge, but I couldn't help it. Gus had taken away my control the night of the poker game. I was taking it back now.

  Though if I wanted to keep earning a living, I supposed I'd have to tone it down a bit. There were only so many men who came looking for what I could provide, and it wasn't going to be enough to keep Mistress stocked with new whips and riding crops.

  And the strange part was, I was rarely having sex. I'd read online that many Dommes don't fuck their clients and my own experience supported that. I found that a lot of the men weren't looking for sex. Just for the domination. Yeah, they'd get off, but more often than not it was from them jerking themselves off while I fucked them in the ass with my strap-on. I was pretty deprived sexually, a state I wasn't used to since I was in the business of having sex. I was going to have to invest in a vibrating insert for my harness, or a double headed dildo so I could have some fun too.

  So here I was, bitchy, horny as hell, and dressed like Cat Woman when Henry appeared in the parlor.

  That was the other change around here, besides me going over to the dark side—Henry. John had made good on his promise to handle the management end of things as best he could. I'd suggested a madam, but he'd brought in Henry.

  Henry was as gay as they came, but not in a fluttery, affected kind of way. More in a British, cultured kind of way. He didn't look twice at any of the girls or what we did. Not when he'd walked in to find us topless and comparing breast sizes in the parlor one day when we were bored. Not when Tiffany had been eating Sahara out on top of the bar for the entertainment of the men here for a bachelor party.

  So yeah, he was definitely gay, but extremely professional and incredibly capable. It slipped out that he'd once managed a rock band, so he'd been around the block. I'm sure Henry had seen some crazy shit during that time. Pretty much nothing could throw him and around here, that was a good trait to have because things could get pretty weird.

  His skillset and his demeanor combined made Henry the perfect fit for the job of manager—what we called him because he got mad when we joked around and called him a madam.

  John had made a brilliant choice in choosing Henry. Hiring a straight guy to manage a whorehouse would be like having the fox guard the chicken coop. From the brief time he'd spent with slime ball Gus, John must have realized that. So Henry ran the place, and John was an absentee owner, but that was fine. We went on as usual and things were good. Different, but good.

  But now Henry was here in the parlor and signaling me to come out into the hallway. My gut told me something out of the ordinary was going on.

  "What's up?" I asked, pulling off my black mask so I could see better while I talked to him.

  "Are you busy or can you come with me?"

  I frowned, wondering what the mystery was that required I go with him. "I'm not with anyone right now, so yeah, I'm free. Why?"

  He didn't answer my question, but led the way to the rooms that used to be Gus's living quarters. I hadn't been in there since the night of the poker game. I had no reason to be, and I was grateful for that fact. Bad memories all around. But it seemed as if I was going there now.

  Henry lived on site, and the moment he opened the door to what had been Gus's sitting room I could see he'd redecorated the place to suit himself. Stereotype though it might be, I had to admire his flair and what he'd done with the space. The room had never looked so good when Gus lived here. Maybe John should let Henry and his decorating talents loose on the parlor. The bar area, as well.

  "Cate."

  I'd been so busy admiring the décor, and appreciating that the horrible table from the poker game was gone, I hadn't noticed John. He stood in the corner pouring a drink from a bottle on the side table set up as a bar.

  I sure saw him now, and couldn't help thinking how damn good he looked. It was strange because impeccably dressed businessmen had never been my type. Though tall, dark and handsome men with wavy hair meant for touching and eyes the color of the ocean could totally be my new type.

  "John. Hi. Or should I call you Mr. Hamilton?"

  "John is fine." He cocked a brow and took me in from the top of my head where I had my hair pulled back into a severe bun, down the black latex of my figure-hugging catsuit, all the way to the tips of my high platform boots. "This is a new look for you. No?"

  I shrugged. "Eh, you know. A girl likes to try something different once in a while."

  I realized I was fiddling with the flogger in my hand and forced myself to stop. Seeing him again after all this time made me nervous and that made me fidgety. How long had it been? Close to a month, I'd guess.

  "Yes, I see." He raised the glass to his lips and took a sip. "Can I pour you a drink?"

  "Sure. Why not?" I eyed the bottle. "It's not scotch, is it?"

  The guy who'd bent me over the poker table and fucked me in front of Gus, John and that guy I'd never met before and would be happy to never meet again had been drinking scotch that night. I didn't think I could stand to smell it, forget about drink it.

  "No. It's honey-flavored bourbon actually. Not a very manly liquor, I guess . . . "

  "It sounds perfect. Thank you." I knew from experience John was all man. He didn't need his choice of alcohol to reinforce that. I smiled. "So you do drink. I was beginning to wonder."

  He stepped forward and handed me a glass. "I only don't drink when I'm gambling, but I'm not playing cards tonight."

  I took the glass he handed me and pressed it to my lips. The bourbon was sweet on my tongue but burned a trail down my throat and into my belly. It felt nice, like a fire chasing away the shadows.

  "It's good. I like it."

  "I'm glad. So tell me how things are going here. I'm trusting you to give me the truth, Cate."

  "You afraid Henry is blowing smoke up your ass?"

  His lips twitched. "Interesting visual, but no. I trust Henry implicitly. He's worked for me for years. But I'm also smart enough to know any number of issues can exist in a business that management might never know about."

  "So I'm like your corporate spy?" I raised a brow.

  "Not at all. I'd ask the same question of any of the girls. I'm asking you because I know you and I trust you."

  He trusted me. He just obviously didn't want to bed me again—not since seeing me in action, in all my hooker glory, thanks to Gus.

  "Things are fine. I don't know what the profits are like compared to before. Henry or Mona would be the ones to tell you that. But I know business is steady and the other girls seem to be doing all right."

  John nodded. "And you? Are you all right?"

  "I'm fine." The kneejerk answer spilled out automatically.

  "So you keep saying." He took another sip while he watched me. I noticed his drink was nearly empty.

  "Let me refill that for you." I stepped forward and he let me take the glass from his hand. I turned aw
ay from him to put both of our glasses, and the flogger and mask I'd had shoved under my arm, on the table. I reached for the bottle as I asked, "Is that why you're here today? To check up on business?"

  "Yes." His answer came from closer behind me than I'd expected.

  "No other reason?" I remained facing away from him and splashed an inch of the golden liquid into his glass. It was easier to broach the subject this way.

  "What other reason? Say it, Cate. I can tell something is on your mind."

  I finally turned to face him, though I couldn't bring myself to meet his gaze. "It's just that Gus used to take the girls to his bed, pretty much every night. Now that you're the owner, I was wondering if you'd do the same."

  His brows rose. "I wasn't aware he'd done that. How did the girls feel about that practice?"

  I shrugged. "It's what we expected from him, so it was just part of the job."

  "And that was all right with you? You didn't mind?"

  "Me? I hated it, but that's because I hated him." I drew in a breath and decided on a whim to turn, pick the bottle back up and splash a bit more into my own glass. Not so much that I wanted it, but because I needed something to do and an excuse to not look at John during this conversation. My back to him, I continued, "I only brought the subject up because I'm sure the girls are wondering. At least, I know I was wondering."

  He stepped behind me and with one hand on my arm, turned me to face him. "I'm not the type of man to force myself on women based on my authority over them."

  "I know. But I'm sure there are many of us who wouldn't mind. Would like it, even." The memory of the poker game hit me. I remembered John's expression, so disgusted he was unable to watch the Texan screw me in front of him. What the hell was I doing? He didn't want me now. "I mean, I know you're not interested in me but the other girls would—"