Bowles, Jan - Claimed for the Master's Pleasure [Guilty Pleasures 5] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic)

Home > Other > Bowles, Jan - Claimed for the Master's Pleasure [Guilty Pleasures 5] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) > Page 1
Bowles, Jan - Claimed for the Master's Pleasure [Guilty Pleasures 5] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) Page 1

by Jan Bowles




  Guilty Pleasures 5

  Claimed for the Master's Pleasure

  When Lia Constantine’s father dies suddenly, she’s shocked to discover he’s left casino debts totaling more than one million dollars. Unless she sells the family home, making herself homeless, she cannot repay the debt.

  Under difficult circumstances, self-made billionaire Jake Benetti, owner of the Arabian Nights Casino, meets the incredibly beautiful Lia Constantine for the first time. As soon as he sees her, he knows she holds the key to unlocking his broken heart. He cannot allow this highly alluring woman to slip through his fingers. Caught between the past and the future, he makes her an offer she simply can’t refuse—until Lia repays her father’s gambling debts, he owns her, mind, body, and soul.

  Lia is into the BDSM lifestyle as much as Jake is, but with their D/s relationship beginning to blossom, will the money drive a wedge between them? Can they ever find happiness together?

  Genre: BDSM, Contemporary

  Length: 41,265 words

  CLAIMED FOR THE MASTER’S PLEASURE

  Guilty Pleasures 5

  Jan Bowles

  EVERLASTING CLASSIC

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer.

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  If you find a Siren-BookStrand e-book being sold or shared illegally, please let us know at

  [email protected]

  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Everlasting Classic

  CLAIMED FOR THE MASTER’S PLEASURE

  Copyright © 2012 by Jan Bowles

  E-book ISBN: 1-61926-289-4

  First E-book Publication: January 2012

  Cover design by Les Byerley

  All art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

  If you have purchased this copy of Claimed for the Master’s Pleasure by Jan Bowles from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

  Regarding E-book Piracy

  This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

  The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

  This is Jan Bowles’ livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Bowles’ right to earn a living from her work.

  Amanda Hilton, Publisher

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  www.BookStrand.com

  It’s the heart afraid of breaking that never learns to dance. It is the dream afraid of waking that never takes the chance. It is the one who won’t be taken who cannot seem to give. And the soul afraid of dying that never learns to live.

  —Bette Midler

  CLAIMED FOR THE MASTER’S PLEASURE

  Guilty Pleasures 5

  JAN BOWLES

  Copyright © 2012

  Chapter One

  The irritating rap burst once more into her dream, rousing her from the best sleep she’d had in ages. Lia Constantine pulled the pillow over her head, trying to recapture the pleasant state she’d been in.

  The noise invaded her senses again, setting her nerves on edge. “Go away,” she mumbled, fighting to return to the highly erotic dream she’d just been enjoying. A gorgeous guy, with the physique of a Greek god, was just about to make love to her. The unwanted interruption couldn’t have come at a more inappropriate moment.

  A third annoying rap broke into her dream. This time, Lia recognized the sound. There was somebody at the front door.

  “Okay, okay, I hear you, I hear you,” she shouted, stumbling from the bed and dragging on a robe. “Give me a minute, for Christ’s sake.”

  An unenviable reflection greeted her as she walked into the hallway. The full-length mirror captured her image mercilessly. Through bleary eyes she saw the destructive effect of a night out with her best friend. Her thick blonde hair stuck up in great, long tufts. Makeup was still on her face from the night before, but totally rearranged. Were panda eyes fashionable? Still, she’d had a great night out, celebrating Monica’s twenty-fifth birthday. Last night was the first time she’d really enjoyed herself since the untimely death of her father one month ago.

  Whoever was at the door would just have to take her as she was. After walking downstairs, she tentatively opened the door a few inches and wearily peered through the gap. A handsome young man with an infectious smile greeted her. He held a huge bouquet of lilies in his arms.

  “Flower delivery for you, ma’am.”

  It was the biggest bouquet of lilies Lia had ever seen, and she’d seen more than her fair share during the last year. “Are you sure they’re for me?”

  “Well, unless you know of another Lia Constantine who lives at 43 Mount Drive? Perhaps you have a secret admirer, ma’am.”

  “I doubt it,” she scoffed as they were thrust into her arms. As the young man walked away, Lia wondered whom they could be from.

  Still half-asleep, she made her way to the kitchen and placed them on the table, then prepared herself a strong black coffee. It took enormous effort to keep her eyes open as she poured the hot beverage into her favorite mug. Once it was made, she sat at the table and cupped the steaming liquid in her hands, feeling like death warmed up.

  “Never again,” she whispered to herself. “I’m going teetotal from now on.”

  As Lia idly sipped her coffee, she noticed a small, pale pink envelope lying within the blooms. She fished it from the bouquet and tore it open. Inside was a card.

  Ms. Constantine,

  My deepest condolences on the death of your father.

  I have arranged a meeting for 2:00 p.m. today at my place of work.

  I strongly suggest you take the opportunity to attend.

  Jake Benetti

  Owner, Arabian Nights Casino, Las Vegas

  Lia scratched her he
ad in annoyance. “Jake Benetti? Who the hell is Jake Benetti? And who the hell does he think he is?” I strongly suggest you take the opportunity to attend? How dare he? She turned the card over looking for an explanation. “Damn.” There was nothing but a photograph of the casino itself—a tall building of some fifty floors or more, glittering like a tacky jewel in the Las Vegas night sky.

  “What the hell does this Benetti guy want from me?” she mumbled into her coffee. Surely he had the wrong woman? She looked at the card again. How did he know her father was dead? Did he even know her father? She couldn’t imagine he’d have any connection with a seedy casino owner. She assumed it was a case of mistaken identity.

  As someone who hated crass gambling clubs, she tossed the card dismissively away. Wild horses wouldn’t make her visit a casino. Her mother had always taught her that gambling and the pursuit of money was the root of all evil. Considering she lived within ten miles of the Strip, the nightlife of Las Vegas had been hard to ignore. The Nevada economy thrived on the gambling fever that constantly swept through the state. But her parents had not succumbed to its glitzy, tawdry lure, choosing instead to make their living from the clean, honest labor of running a simple grocery store, in one of the outlying Vegas communities. However, Lia was worldly enough to know that money from the casinos filtered through to them. The neighborhood was pretty poor, and many of the people they served in her parents’ store had taken jobs in the casinos in order to make ends meet. Just like the casinos themselves, it was something her mother chose to ignore.

  Lia shook her head. As always her mind drifted to her family. In the last twelve months she’d lost her father, and her wonderful fiancé, Joe. It had been a tough year. One that she wished not to dwell on. She moved the bouquet into the sitting area, placing it next to the photograph of her dead parents. She picked up the framed photo of her fiancé, Joe, and gently kissed his image through the glass.

  “No one could ever replace you. Sweet dreams, honey. I’m going back to bed.”

  Last night had been great. It was time to start living again. Whoever Jake Benetti was, she didn’t like him, and she wouldn’t be accepting his invitation any time soon.

  * * * *

  Three days later

  Every morning before breakfast, Lia always took an early morning jog. Since the devastating news of Joe’s death, and then some eleven months later her father, she found it therapeutic to haul herself out of bed and pound the streets in search of some normality. The exercise released the endorphins in her brain and helped her make sense of the crazy world she currently inhabited. The cool morning air and the solitude as she ran around the block set her up for the long day ahead at the fitness center where she worked as an aerobics instructor. It had been her goal to start her own business as a personal trainer. Her father had left her the money to achieve this in his will when he’d died, and she’d already taken on three new clients. Fred Constantine had been a wonderful man. He’d been marvelous when Joe had been killed in that terrible car crash all those months ago. She took a deep breath, reliving the awful incident. She’d been in the passenger seat, but had just barely survived. Her father had taken care of everything. He’d even paid for a top psychiatrist out of his own pocket when she’d been unable to cope with life anymore. The loss of the man she loved so dearly had hit her hard. She hugged her arms around herself, still feeling his warm, gentle presence. She still couldn’t believe he was dead.

  Lia quickly glanced at her watch as she jogged past the school gates. Right on schedule. In twenty minutes she’d be home, showered, and ready to start the day. All she had to do was cross the road and run up the drive to her home. A home she had once shared with her parents. Her father had wanted her to move back in with him when her fiancé had died. Little had she known that she would eventually be left on her own.

  When she heard a car approaching from behind, she moved to one side, beckoning with her arm for it to pass. She was surprised when the black sedan pulled up alongside her, and a darkened window slowly started to lower.

  A craggy-looking man in his forties peered over the glass. “Lia Constantine?”

  “I don’t know you. Go away.”

  “Get in.”

  “I’ve told you. Go away, creep.”

  “Mr. Benetti wants to see you, and he won’t be happy until he does.”

  Benetti? That name sounds so familiar. Where have I heard it before? Yeah, the guy who sent the flowers.

  “I don’t care. Leave me alone, or I’ll call the cops.”

  Keep jogging, Lia. Keep moving. Don’t let these creeps see you’re scared.

  The black sedan suddenly screeched to a halt. A door slammed, and then another. Lia watched the two men stride up to her. One of them spoke. “Lia Constantine, you’re coming with us.”

  Lia looked around for support. It was six in the morning, and there was no one but her and these two very menacing-looking guys. Dressed in black suits, they were huge, the size of pro football players.

  The taller of the two guys continued speaking as he stared intently at her. “Hey, Juno, for a minute I thought…” He laughed. “The boss is gonna do a double take.”

  The other guy with a receding hairline let out a long, slow whistle. “Fuck, Moose. It’s like she’s come back from the dead.”

  Feeling threatened and very alone, Lia stepped back, putting some distance between them. “Please. Look, I don’t know who you are. Please just go away and leave me alone.”

  Without warning the bigger guy took hold of her arm, and almost lifted her from the ground. “Get in the car.”

  Instinctively she clawed her nails down his cheek and pulled herself from his grasp and began running, running, running for her life. “Please, God, somebody help me,” she screamed. Nobody. Nothing.

  She felt stagnant male breath getting closer and closer before finding her progress halted completely. “Hey, Juno, grab her other arm. For fuck’s sake, buddy, get her in the car before we’re seen.”

  Chapter Two

  Jake Benetti studied the bank of high-definition CCTV pictures covering the wall of his office. He always liked to keep an eye on his business. It made sense, when there were huge amounts of money involved. Experience had taught him not to trust anyone.

  In disbelief, he watched a woman being roughly escorted through the back door of his casino. After thirty-seven years of life, nothing much fazed him, but seeing a woman who closely resembled his dead wife made him stop and stare, openmouthed. Thank God he had time to compose himself before Juno and Moose knocked on his office door.

  He studied the CCTV images closely. The resemblance unnerved him. He’d laid his beloved wife in the casket himself. Besides, if Hannah had still been alive, she would have been thirty-five this fall. This woman was clearly in her midtwenties.

  Dressed in gray sweatpants and wearing a white sweatband around her head, she looked like she’d just been jogging. He hoped this small excursion from her daily routine wouldn’t inconvenience her too much. When his two bodyguards showed her to the private elevator, he had the distinct feeling that she wasn’t happy. He hoped Juno and Moose had behaved themselves. In the past, they’d had a tendency for being overexuberant when it came to following his instructions.

  The rap on his office door came all too soon. Jake made himself comfortable in the leather executive chair before arranging the legal documents he required on the mahogany desk. When he was completely satisfied, he called out, “Enter.”

  The door opened, and Juno poked his head around the oak panel. “Boss, we brought the Constantine woman to see you.”

  “Good. You did well to persuade her—”

  Before Jake could finish his sentence the woman burst into his office. Her green eyes flared wide. “This is outrageous!” She pointed an index finger at him and wagged it angrily several times. “Are you in charge here, Mister? How dare you tell these animals to force me into a car?” He could see she was shaking with fear and rage. “Do you know what the
penalty for kidnapping is? Especially at the whim of some lowlife casino owner?”

  If Jake hadn’t been so stunned at the beautiful vision before him, he might have taken offense. So Fred Constantine’s sassy daughter hated casino owners with a vengeance? But what did he expect? The woman was clearly here against her will.

  Although not an exact replica of his wife, she was disturbingly similar. The angry, frightened woman standing before him was a little taller, and her exquisite, heart-shaped face had more defined cheekbones than Hannah’s. It was her hair that captivated him most. Long cascades of honey blonde spread out across her shoulders and flowed down her back, just like Hannah’s had. How he longed to thread his hands through the thick, golden strands, and dream they were still together. Fuck, he’d barely looked at another woman for the three years since Hannah’s death, and it still made him feel as guilty as hell.

  Jake couldn’t help admiring the beauty of the young woman standing before him, but he didn’t want to be reminded of what he’d lost. He looked at Juno instead. The guy was certainly no oil painting. In fact his chief bruiser was ugly as fuck, but he felt uncomfortable looking at this beautiful ghost from his past.

  “Don’t you dare turn away from me. I asked you a question, Mr. Big Casino Owner. Do you often force women into the backs of cars against their will?”

  With his voice much harsher than normal, he asked Juno, “Is this true?”

 

‹ Prev