by Anya Summers
She had the job. No more looking over her shoulder for the next punch. No more wondering when she’d run into her ex again. Naomi wanted to tap dance across the room. She would have, too, if she were alone and did not have Jared’s green gaze intently focused on her every move. It made her skin feel like it was three sizes too small.
“Naomi? Are you certain you want the job, lass? There’s no shame in backing out if you feel you’re not up to the task.”
“No! I mean, yes, I want the job. No, I don’t want to back out.” She could deal with bits of flesh and skin, maybe a little bump and grind action taking place out in the open if it meant she could quit running.
“If you’re certain. I have a couple of things we need to address first, then, if you’ll follow me…”
Jared stood with a confident ease. Her gaze followed the tall golden Adonis, watching him rise and leave the conference table. It was the first time since he had entered the room where she did not have the full force of his vibrant green gaze upon her. She took the brief chance to study her new boss. Jared was lanky but built with it, his mint green, silk dress shirt displaying the sculpted muscles hidden underneath. Broad shouldered, he moved with a lion-like grace, assured of his position in the world. She couldn’t help but notice that his tailored black slacks fit over his tight end to perfection and it kick-started a warm ache in her belly.
He sauntered behind his desk, a mahogany piece that looked more like it belonged on Fifth Avenue than a remote island in the Bahamas.
“Come, have a seat.” He gestured to a black leather chair as he sat, like a king on his throne, at his great desk, shaking his lion-like mane of golden auburn hair, and began pulling paperwork out of drawers. He flashed her a smile, a slash of white across his tanned face, and her insides liquefied into jelly. There should really be laws against a man being so blessedly beautiful. Naomi had never been one to fawn over men, not even her ex-husband, but good lord, her new boss was a prime hunk who made her feel as giddy as a schoolgirl.
On unsteady legs, she headed over to the seat he indicated, her stomach tied up in knots.
“It’s nothing major, just a few documents for you to sign and such. This is for your room. That you are responsible for any damage and that your stay there is deducted from your weekly wages. Unfortunately, I only have a room for you here in the main hotel, all the apartment housing for employees on the other side of the island is currently full.”
“Whatever you have available is fine.”
“Great. Your key code entry number to enter your room, the gym, if you feel like it, the club on your nights off, pool area and such are all on the room agreement. This is your code specifically, so don’t share it with anyone. When you are not at work, you can take full advantage of all the amenities we have on the island as long as they are not in use by a guest.”
“What’s this one for?” She was confused by the line of questions on the latest form in the stack.
“Ah, yes. This is a consent form with your hard limits if you choose to participate in the club on the island. Here are these.” From inside his desk, he produced a pair of ivory colored cuffs with the initials ‘PI’ inscribed on them in blazing red. “Staff members of Pleasure Island have the option to participate in the BDSM activities of the club and on the island if that is your preference. By wearing the PI staff cuffs, distinguished by the colors, you are declaring that you are available to interested Doms. If you would like to join the club, you will need to inform me so I can provide you with our rules and regulations for submissives.”
“Oh.” Naomi didn’t know how to answer him. Her mouth suddenly dry as the Sahara, she wished she’d accepted the offer of coffee earlier. The cuffs were supple, smooth leather. An image of her wearing them for her new boss blossomed in her mind and she almost dropped them in her lap. She couldn’t lust after her new employer. She couldn’t mess things up here by doing something so stupid as to sleep with the boss. Besides, he wasn’t interested in her. She felt heat spread across her cheeks and dropped her gaze back down to the paperwork in front of her.
She barely read what was before her, more bothered by Jared’s direct stare as he handed her documents and waivers to sign.
“I’ll have my secretary make copies of everything for you once she arrives, for your records, of course.”
She nodded. “Of course.”
Like she would refuse him. Naomi would sign whatever he asked her to if it meant she could stay here. She didn’t want to go back to looking over her shoulder.
“Now that we have the tedious paperwork finalized, let me take you on a tour of the island, show you where you’ll be staying, and I will describe your duties.”
“I’m sure you must be busy, and I could find my way…” Naomi wanted to escape his enigmatic presence before she did something she couldn’t take back, like run her fingers through his auburn locks and see if his shoulder-length hair was as soft as it appeared.
Jared rose from his chair and quirked a brow at her, his full lips compressed into a firm line. “What you need to understand about me, Naomi, is that I am first and foremost a Dominant and a Master, if you know the BDSM lifestyle. On this island, when I give orders, as long as they are reasonable, I expect them to be followed without question. I understand that you are likely trying to save me the trouble, but this is what I have done with each individual in my employ upon hiring them and I will not deviate from the way I do things.”
“Sorry, Mr. McTavish, I didn’t mean to imply—”
“Mr. McTavish is my father. Around here, you may address me as Sir or Master J, whichever is easier for you to remember.”
She nodded her head, fighting back tears. Way to mess up and she hadn’t even worked a day yet. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“Relax, Naomi lass, I feel it’s just good policy for you to know the rules up front. Now, if you will, come with me.” He held his large tanned hand out for her to accept.
She stared up at him, drawn in by the potent quixotic look emanating in his eyes. Instinctively she understood he was testing her response. Naomi had always hated tests; would he fire her before she began if she didn’t measure up? She’d spent a lifetime not measuring up or being what other people deemed as acceptable, and being tossed aside like yesterday’s garbage. She didn’t know why but if he turned her away now, after everything she had to do to get here, it would be worse than when she’d been fired for not sleeping with her boss.
“Lass?” he murmured huskily, his voice deepening. Her gaze dropped to his lips, which were fuller than they had a right to be on a man, making her wonder how they would feel against hers. The pink, full mouth was surrounded by a few days’ worth of stubble a shade darker than his hair. Then she glanced back into his eyes. Taking a deep breath, she placed her trembling hand in his, the callouses on his palm scraping against her skin, making her break out in goose pimples as his fingers wrapped around hers. He might own the island and be in charge of the operations here, but he was anything but a paper pusher. This was a man who worked hard and had the callouses to show for it.
Naomi let him pull her up. Her knees wobbled, probably because she hadn’t eaten anything yet today. She couldn’t eat just yet. Her nerves were shot and it could manifest into nausea or worse.
“Whoa, steady there.” His free hand reached for her and she instinctively flinched.
Naomi jerked back and realized her mistake as his eyes went cold with fury. “I’m fine,” she reassured him.
He studied her, like he was waiting for her to confess all her sins and misdeeds. She knew he’d decided not to press the issue when his lips flattened into a thin line and he gestured toward the door. “Right this way.”
Refusing to rock the boat any more than she already had, Naomi skittered past him toward the door, all but praying that the rest of the day would go smoothly. Except Jared was two steps behind her and she couldn’t stop the fear. Even though her rational mind knew he meant her no harm,
her gut instinct urged her to run.
It took everything inside Naomi to calm her flight response and not make a mad dash into the luxurious hallway. Whereas Jared’s office was decked out in dark wood and manly man colors, the hall and rest of the resort were another animal. Pristine and airy, with ivory marble floors and walls painted the color of the sky at midday, spattered intermittently with artwork. The stainless-steel doors swished open on the state of the art elevator.
Jared was two steps behind her the entire time.
“Two of the places you will be responsible for are my office and penthouse. The office needs a daily cleaning, my penthouse can be done every other day. Tomorrow morning, I’d actually like you to begin with my penthouse, then the office, as I have business off the island for a bit.”
“Yes, sir.”
A slight grin stole over his features at her response. “There are four other maids: Julia, Tami, Carmen, and Sherry. They are in charge of the eight floors of rooms in the main building. You and Sherry will be in charge of cleaning up in the club on rotating nights. The two of you can take turns and work the schedule out amongst yourselves once you are properly trained in what will be required of you there.”
The elevator stopped on the second floor and the doors opened into the club Jared had spoken of, but it was unlike any club she’d ever entered before. Glossy black floors that glistened and refracted the overhead light were surrounded by exterior walls that were reminiscent of a stone castle in a dulcet gray tone. There were alcoves carved into the stone walls that were miniature rooms, roughly eight foot by eight foot, that held equipment for all manner of erotic activities. Naomi wasn’t a total novice when it came to the world of BDSM. She knew it was where people got their rocks off tying their partner up and using all sorts of various contraptions during sex. But she was distinctly unprepared for seeing the chains, padded horses, large cross, and there were small metal loops on just about every piece of furniture, including the couches in the center. Some of the black leather couches faced the alcoves, for attendees to watch the festivities she guessed, while those in the interior were centered around a raised dais that was perhaps a foot off the ground with a sawhorse in the center. There was furniture that she had no idea what it was called, yet there was a part of her that wondered what it would feel like to be so free and unencumbered by your past to be able to allow a man to restrain you that way.
Naomi wasn’t a nun. She had urges and fantasies just like anyone else but since her ex, she’d kept it to her vibrator. She was too hollowed out, too transient to develop anything that lasted longer than a night, and she’d never been a woman who could be with a man physically and not get attached. She could count the number of one-night stands she’d had on one hand. And while she might be curious about what it would feel like to have a man like Jared tie her up and do wicked deeds with her body, she had never been forward. Men, in her experience, wanted to score an easy lay, not deal with a woman with enough emotional baggage to fill a moving truck.
“On the nights when you are working here, you will be required to clean up stations after they have been used by guests. Questions?”
“No.” She shook her head, even though she had about a million buzzing around in her brain.
“Good. At the Pleasure Island Club, we want to ensure safety for all guests, which includes a germ-free environment. Tonight, I want you to shadow Sherry, whom I will introduce to you this evening unless we run into her on our tour. She will show you the ropes on what your duties here will be.”
Naomi nodded her understanding. “That sounds good.” It would be easier as well coming from a woman who wouldn’t make her blush continuously.
“Come, we have much of the island to view yet.”
She was thankful to escape this place. The longer she stood amidst the erotic plethora of delights, the more she wanted to explore her boss’s spectacular physique. Jared escorted her, with his hand on her lower back, to the elevator. Tendrils of heat spiraled into her core from his innocent touch. She should ask him to back off, tell him that it was inappropriate, but the delicious melty sensation was addictive. The elevators doors dinged quietly as they opened onto the ground floor level. It put them a short walking distance from the pool area, with paths to the beach and marina on the opposite end.
The pool looked like an exotic grotto with a multitude of levels, and realistic rock formations toward the opposite end. The blue water beckoned her. When was the last time she’d had a chance to relax in a pool and soak up some vitamin D? Too damn long ago.
There were a spate of guests lounging in the chairs, some wore scandalous, barely there bathing suits, while a few of them sported nothing but their birthday suits.
Naomi inhaled a deep breath as she felt a blush spread across her cheeks. The nudity was something she would get used to with time, she hoped. Sort of like a gynecologist who has seen so many women from the waist down, it barely registered when they saw another pussy. Naomi wasn’t a prude but this also wasn’t a practice she had been around much.
Taking another deep breath, she gave herself a pep talk. She could do this. She was a strong, independent woman who had escaped a horribly abusive marriage and survived. A little nudity and daily boobage was a small price to pay for her freedom.
There were two men who stood out. She could tell they weren’t guests by the white board shorts they wore emblazoned with the island’s red symbol; a life buoy with the letters PI inscrolled inside it, near the hemline on the left leg. And that was it, no shirt, no shoes, nothing but board shorts and rock hard muscles that moved and glistened in the sunlight as they worked. Naomi wanted to fan herself at the fine specimens of manhood on display. Between those two and her boss, she seemed to be surrounded by attractive, mouth wateringly, you-can-call-me-whatever-you-want type of men.
She hazarded a glance at Jared, trying to imagine what he would look like in those white board shorts, his immense chest bare to the gleaming rays of sunlight. The visual imagery was almost too much. Naomi’s body heated, liquid pooled at her apex, and the desire to touch him, to discover if his chest muscles were as solid as they appeared through his dress shirt, nearly overwhelmed her.
As she ripped her gaze away from Jared’s super fine body, the two other beefcakes nodded in their direction by way of greeting.
“That’s Juan.” Jared indicated to the Latino gentleman at the far side of the pool acting as lifeguard. “And then this here,” they stopped their forward progression, “is Nick Santos. Nick is in charge of the pool area.”
Nick gave her a potent once over with interest swimming in his dark gaze. Skin the color of roasted espresso beans was stretched and sculpted over the eight-pack of muscles gracing his belly. He reminded her of those muscle-bound weight lifters that you find at the gym, and was a good half-foot taller than Jared, which put him in Gigantor territory.
“So, we’ve got ourselves a newbie?” Nick said. His voice was like gravel scraping against stone.
“Yes, Nick, this is Naomi Cates, our newest maid. She will be helping Sherry out in the club and the villas.”
Trying to act like Nick’s size did not intimidate her in the slightest, Naomi shot her hand out, saying, “It’s nice to meet you.”
Nick’s full lips spread into a deep grin and there was laughter in his eyes as he took her hand. “Likewise, little one. Some of the exotic sheen of the place will wear off after a bit.”
Did she really look that shocked by the display of flesh? It wasn’t like she had never seen another woman undressed, or never been with a man without his clothes on. It was just that she’d never seen it all on display quite like this. One of the couples had started making out on an ivory lounge chair. The gentleman’s dark head was squarely between the woman’s spread thighs as she reclined on the lounge chair with her wrists bound in cuffs above her head.
Naomi averted her gaze from the spectacle but couldn’t unhear the breathy moans the woman made, nor ignore the fact that hearing and seeing
the sexual act made her body respond to the overt sexual display.
Nick chortled a deep laugh in her direction. “Anything I can do for you, Master J, like take the little one off your hands?”
She blushed clean to her toes because she did not think he meant it in a PG, ‘I’ll show her around the island, boss,’ kind of way—more like what the guests were doing in speaker surround sound at this point.
Instinctively she moved closer to Jared. She didn’t know why she felt safe around him, because other than knowing him a smidgeon longer, it didn’t make any sense. Except she knew he wouldn’t let any harm come to her.
“I have a feeling, Nick, that this little lass is not up for the taking,” Jared said.
Nick’s dark, almost black, gaze gave her a once over before he said, “Pity.” Then he swiveled and sauntered back to his work like the exchange was normal.
“Let’s head toward the golf carts over there.” Jared pointed to a bank of twenty or so golf carts.
Ready to be out of hearing distance from the moans and slapping of flesh, since it seemed the couple had amped up their encounter, Naomi needed no urging and power-walked to the nearest cart. The couple in the pool area had moved from merely oral to full on power bang. Her nipples pebbled beneath her sundress as the grunts and groans increased. She’d never considered herself a voyeur but if just the sounds of the couple were inciting an ache between her thighs, she may have to rethink that theory. Although, it had been a long time since she’d experienced an orgasm from something that wasn’t battery operated, so she had been in a bit of a drought.
Jared climbed into the driver’s seat, apparently completely unfazed by the coitus in progress, and patted the leather seat beside him. How could the man be unaffected at the sex happening twenty feet from them? Was that what he meant when he said he was a Dominant? That he could control his sexual urges? She gave him a sideways glance as he started the golf cart. Not wanting to be too obvious as she studied him, her gaze trailed his profile until she was innocuously staring at his crotch.