Filthy Rich Vampire Playboys

by Gisele St. Claire

  Carter: Just friends remember?

  Serena: Hmmm, with benefits though…?

  Carter: No, but thank you for asking :D

  Once again the word ‘asshole’ sprang to mind, but I couldn’t help but smile, because it looked like Carter Cole had offered me an in to the whole gang at once. Maybe I’d have to push the envelope a little and see if they offered more than friendship once the alcohol was flowing.

  My heart skipped, my stomach fizzed with excitement and a large smile stretched across my face. This job couldn’t have been going better if I’d developed magical powers to bewitch them all. It was only a matter of time before my expose was done and I was back in New York being put up for prestigious awards.

  And if I had fun in the meantime with any of the four hot guys to get that story? Well, I’d suffer for my art!

  Chapter Seven

  Serena

  I stretched out my limbs, grateful of the extra hour or so in bed my day off brought. I showered, ate breakfast and read for a while before grabbing my gymsack and heading to the Spa.

  “Morning, Serena.” The receptionist chirped looking as fresh as the sparkling countertop she stood beside.

  “It’s my day off so I’m going to check things out for myself. I could do with some chill time.” I said. She handed me a toweling robe.

  “Fresh towels are available in the changing rooms, you can use as many as you like and there are hampers around for the used ones. Showers are stocked with Bliss products. Fresh water with lemon is in the relaxation area, along with fruit. Anything else you need just let me know.”

  “Thanks. I’m looking forward to it.”

  Once inside the female changing room, I dressed in my swimsuit and placed my belongings in a locker. I placed the locker key chain around my wrist and went straight into the relaxation area. Not only was this an ambient temperature room where you could relax and read magazines and rest between using the steam and sauna rooms, but it was where clients waited both pre and post treatments. So, just as expected, Smith Henderson sat there, taking a slug of a tall glass of water.

  His head turned toward me as I looked around for a place to sit. After pretending to deliberate, I sat directly opposite him. I made sure to cross my legs so that my robe opened to reveal a shapely thigh. My blonde hair was in a side pony this morning.

  “Morning.” I said to him, barely giving him a glance before reaching over for a magazine. To my delight it was a copy of Revealed magazine I picked up.

  “They shouldn’t stock that here.” His voice washed over me like an ocean wave, its cadence cool.

  I looked up at him. “Why not?”

  “This is a place for people to relax. It should be about emptying your mind of its poison, not filling it with more.”

  I tilted my head at him and raised an eyebrow. “Interesting point.” I looked back at the magazine and started flicking through it.

  “Suit yourself.” He said sounding like a petulant child.

  I carried on ignoring him until he was called through for his massage.

  Oh this was going to be fun. I just knew it.

  I knew that Smith would be back out in forty-five minutes so while I waited I availed myself of the facilities. You don’t realize how tightly strung you are until you start to relax. I should come here on my days off anyway. I could feel my shoulders unknotting, the tension disappearing out of me and I reckoned as soon as I left here I was going to head back to my room and sleep for the afternoon.

  Returning to the relaxation room five minutes before Smith was due to come out, this time I chose one of the recliners, making sure I had a vacant one next to me. This time I toweled off, took off the robe and laid out in just my costume. I closed my eyes and hoped to God I didn’t start snoring. I focused on the gentle background music to keep me awake and thought over what to wear to the party tomorrow. Serena Saxton would wear designer to a party, but here I was Serena Ripley. I needed to dumb the clothes down—to look good but not like I had any money, although even if I’d worn my best outfits, there was no way I was playing in the same leagues as the ones here in Carbon Beach.

  I heard noises at the side of me and opened my eyes.

  “Sorry to disturb you.” said Smith as he laid down on his lounger. He was wrapped in a robe; the back of his short pale blond hair glistened with oil.

  I stretched out and yawned, then rubbed at my eyes. I waited a few minutes and then I turned to him.

  “I’m just going to get a water. Would you like one?” I asked him.

  “Sure. That’d be great.”

  I returned and passed him the paper cup and he thanked me.

  “I’m Smith.” He said. “Smith Henderson.”

  “Serena Ripley.” I replied, noting a flicker of recognition of my name hit his features.

  “Ah, the new Events Manager.”

  “The very one.”

  “So, shouldn’t you be arranging events?”

  “It’s my day off, so I thought what better use of my time could there be than to relax in the spa?”

  “Oh I can think of a lot of better uses for your time.” His pale blue eyes sparkled.

  “Oh yeah? Such as.” Push, push, push.

  “Well, looking at the views of the place. Seems a waste to have a day off here and spend it inside.”

  Huh? Where was his game and why wasn’t he bringing it?

  Then I remembered. They were having a woman rest. My God, even Smith?

  “I have all day. I work hard, I needed to unwind. Do you like the place? Is there anything you’d improve?”

  “More masseuse maybe. So I could choose who to book in with.”

  “Hmmm, there seems to be a problem currently with filling our vacancies. We’ve had quite the turnover. Rumor is that there’s one client who tries to get more than his money’s worth. The vulnerable ones fall for his charm and then have to leave. Fancy abusing the place like that. What a jerk.”

  For a moment Smith’s eyes widened and then he recovered himself. “Total jerk.”

  “So, without it sounding like a cliché, do you come here often?”

  “Every Thursday.”

  “Is that to unwind from your job?”

  He smiles. “I don’t have a job. I’m Smith Henderson, son of Bill?”

  I fake a look of shock. “Seriously, your dad is Bill Henderson? Who owns airlines and small islands?”

  “The very same. So I don’t work. I don’t need to. Instead I keep to a strict regime of pleasure, including massages every Thursday at eleven.”

  “A strict regime of pleasure. Hmmm, is that why you think Revealed is poison? Has your pleasure been revealed before?”

  His jaw set.

  “Not by that particular trash, but by similar. They write crap they don’t know about, regardless of whether they have proof or not.”

  “That’s why I like Revealed though.” I replied. “All of their stories are backed with facts.”

  His blue gaze fixed on my own. “And that’s why I’ve never been in Revealed, but it’s still built on the same principles—to destroy people.”

  “I’d argue it was the featured secrets and lies that destroyed the person, not the fact they were discovered and revealed.”

  “So do you have any secrets, Serena? If I dug down and found yours, would you want me to sell them to that magazine? Revealed might be mired in ‘facts’ as you call them, but they’re often subjective.”

  “I have no secrets. What you see is what you get.”

  His eyes trailed the length of my body and I expected a smart retort, but none came. Still he’d looked. My nipples pebbled under his gaze.

  “Are you not having a treatment?” He asked.

  “No. I’ve been in the steam and saunas. That’s enough. I’m going to head back to my room in a moment. What do you do after your massage?”

  “Go home and watch a movie.” He said.

  I smiled. “Oh that’s not a bad idea. I might see what’s on the hot
el menu. Curling up on my bed for a couple of hours sounds great.”

  “I watch them in my movie room.” He says. “But for some reason your way sounds a lot better.”

  “Well, I’m not inviting you to my room, Smith Henderson.” I laughed. “We just met.”

  “Doesn’t stop most women.” He said.

  “Well, it stops me.”

  “It was a pleasure to meet you, Serena. I hope you settle in and enjoy your job. I’ll see you around.”

  “You will.”

  What he did next was bring his A-game, I’d give him that. Instead of walking straight through to the showers, he shrugged his robe off. Remnants of massage oil glistened down a tanned, taut body. I could have bounced quarters off those abs. I imagined him in the shower, droplets of water bouncing off them and then my tongue licking across his torso, capturing one of those small nipples in my teeth…

  “Time to cool down, don’t you think?” He leaned closer toward me. “I don’t know if it’s just me, but it’s getting hot in here.”

  Chapter Eight

  Smith

  I wasn’t stupid, no matter how the press portrayed me as the dumb son of Bill, fit only to party all night and hook up with women. Yes, I partied and yes, I screwed around. It was called being young and having fun. I was sure guys the world over did exactly the same, they just didn’t have their every move followed.

  But this one, the new Event woman, she ‘just happened’ to have been around when I was, both before and after my treatment. Playing it cool like she didn’t know who I was. That was her first mistake. So many did that. The whole ‘I’m going to pretend I don’t know who he is to get his attention’. Fuck that. Also her whole body was on display when I came out. She either wanted to seduce me, or there was more to it. Given her speech on the massage perv, obviously directed at me, maybe that was her game. To evict me from the spa?

  But my gut told me there was more to it.

  I'd seen the calculations in her gaze. I recognized the look because it felt like home.

  Everything I did had to be a calculated move if I didn’t want to end up in the press again. Woman had become my drug of choice, to replace the liquor that could no longer burn through my veins. I'd been a careless drunk. A bad move for a human, a dangerous one if you were a vampire. What had gone down that night… never was to happen again.

  So if the worst thing I did was screw every masseuse who worked in Malibu? Well, I had access to my own private plane. There was an endless supply of willing women with magic hands.

  So I needed to do some digging on Serena Ripley, and keep a very close eye on her, which wasn’t difficult given she was hot as sin.

  Chapter Nine

  Serena

  “Are you ready to meet the gang?” Carter asked me, giving me a tilt of that gorgeously defined chin.

  “Yeah, do I look okay?” I asked him.

  “Better than okay.” He seemed to drink me in, casting his eyes over my tight black dress that came to just above my knee. I’d curled my hair, and it hung in loose waves.

  “Come in then and I’ll get you a drink.” He said.

  Carter’s home was only about three houses away from the Dream. It was literally a few minutes walk. With the view over the ocean there was no wonder he loved the surf. He stared at the ocean every day. All four of them lived on here just houses apart. What a place to grow up. It was a shame the busy Pacific Coast Highway ran at the rear although it was a reminder that I hadn’t died and gone to heaven.

  Carter’s home was all white concrete facade and tall glass windows. There was a front patio with fire pits where people were milling around with drinks. Right next to his house was his own tennis court. The hotel was basically an extension of his home; I could see that, could see the community of Billionaire’s Beach now I’d made my way inside one of the properties.

  “Feel free to have a look around.” He said. “As I have lots of guests needs to satisfy. Are you okay if I catch up with you later?”

  “Sure, go be a host. I’ll see what I can steal.” I winked.

  “Well, I have security, so only do that if you want to be caught, cuffed, and at my mercy.” He winked back and walked toward some other guests.

  I took a drink from a passing waiter with a tray and began to look around. The lounge area was vast with bookshelves and plenty of seating. Adjacent was a huge dining area where chefs were busy preparing food for guests. Trays of canapes were being brought out as well as champagne. There was an open plan staircase, and I followed it up to the second floor, taken aback by the sheer size of the rooms. The bedrooms were vast, making the beds seem like a workout to reach. There was a huge office to the rear of the building and I wondered how it was so quiet given the highway.

  “Can I help you?” A terse voice asked, and I startled, pivoting and finding myself confronted by Jayden Bryant.

  “Hey. Carter said I could come nosy. I’m Serena from the Malibu Dream.” I held out a hand to him.

  “Oh, okay." His stance relaxed a little. "Well, I know this place like the back of my hand, so fancy a tour?”

  “Sure? And you are?” I asked.

  “Yeah, okay, you know Carter then you know who I am, but for the sake of your bad memory it’s Jayden.”

  I laughed. I found his candor refreshing and could see there would be no bullshitting this one.

  “So by the look of the decor I’m guessing parents floor?”

  “Yes, Carter’s rooms are on the floor above. Shall we?” He gestured back toward the stairs. I followed him, making sure I trailed behind. I’d rather I had the perfect view of his peachy ass, than he mine at this point. He led me into a room that took my breath away. From higher up, the view of the ocean just got better, and I followed Jayden out onto a patio area with a glass screen. We watched as the waves buffeted against rocks, the sound soothing to my ears. How could you ever take this view for granted?

  “Wow.” I turned back around at Carter’s bedroom. “I guess he has this view for his living space too?”

  Jayden nodded, “and his dining room, kitchen and bathroom.”

  “He has all those things on this floor, even though there’s a kitchen downstairs?”

  Jayden shrugs. “It’s self-contained for when his parents are here. He has everything.”

  And he did.

  His cinema room was to the rear of the property. “Why can’t I hear the traffic?” I asked Jayden.

  “Double walls to the rear. Architects know how to get around sound.”

  “These homes are unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “I moved here from a house share in New York.” It was one thing I didn’t need to lie about. “This is something else. It’s difficult to get my head around, but that’s kind of the point of me coming here, to expand my horizons and see something completely different to New York.”

  “Well, the Bu is definitely that. You finished looking now?”

  “Yeah. I’m ready for another drink after all this walking.” I smiled.

  We walked back downstairs, and as we went back through to the patio, I realized that just like I’d been staring at the furnishings, people were now staring at me. Staring at the woman wearing DKNY when everyone else was in Chanel and Prada. Fuck, what would their faces be like if I’d worn Topshop?

  An extremely tall woman, thin to the point of emaciation walked over to us, her long cherry-red hair swinging as she did so. “Jay.” She exclaimed, air kissing his cheeks. “So glad to see you again.”

  “Yeah, it's been like what, two days? Plus, it's Jayden to you.”

  She ignored him, looking at me. “I don’t think we’ve met before? I’m Cynthia Delaware.”

  I recognized the name. She was the heiress of a property magnate. Made sense she’d be around the Billionaire’s Beach.

  “Serena Ripley.”

  “I’d guessed you weren’t from around here.” She clearly looked me up and down as she spoke. �
��New York, right? Upper East side?”

  What a bitch.

  “I’m from Brooklyn.” I lied, playing to her assumptions.

  “So, what brings you to the Bu?”

  And how long until you leave again, was the underlying statement.

  “I’m the new Events and Conference manager at the Malibu Dream.”

  “Ah.” She said nodding. “I understand now. You came here for work. Are you arranging parties outside of the Dream now because I’m looking to throw the bash of the year?”

  “She’s a guest, Cynthia, just like you.” Carter walked over and handed me a glass of champagne, a glass I’d been ready to drink since I'd walked down the staircase, and now desperately wanted to drain. “The only difference is I actually like her.”

  “Hahahahaha, you’re so funny, Carter. Honestly, that’s not what you said when we were fucking last year. Well, excuse me, I must go say hi to Treena, who’s just arrived.”

  “Sorry about that.” Carter said. “Should have known she’d try to cause trouble.”

  “Oh don’t worry. I’m used to people like her.” I said. Rest assured while I was here I’d dig up some dirt on Cynthia Delaware and I’d make her pay for what she did to me. Karma might be a bitch, but it had nothing on me. Her humiliation would be larger than mine by far, spread all over the magazine, not relegated to a house on Carbon Beach.

  “Yeah, I bet there are people coming into the hotel who treat you like that all the time, huh?”

  I nodded at Carter.

  “Sorry, I’m late. I’ve been finishing up at the hotel. Oh, hi, Serena.”

  “Hey, Flynn.”

  He looked energized, his vivid blue eyes sparkling rather than piercing through me. “Are you around Monday?” He asked me.

  “Sure, I can be. I’ll look at my schedule when I’m home and shoot you an email.”

  “Yes, stop talking business to her, we’re here for leisure.” Carter admonished him.

  “Here for pleasure. Who’s here for pleasure? Surely not Miss Serena Ripley.” Oh God, here he came. Smith Henderson and his smart ass mouth.