by Marie Force
“I think she was too trashed to remember much of it.”
“Ahh, so she went the liquid-courage route. That’s not an option at Devon’s club. They have a two-drink limit. Most of the better clubs do. They don’t want people getting into alcohol-fueled situations they’ll regret in the morning. Everyone has to be clearheaded and healthy to belong to his club.”
“He requires proof of health?”
“You bet. They have doctors on staff who do exams right onsite, so there’s no funny business with results. That’s something Devon doesn’t budge on. See our doctors, or no admittance.”
I swallow hard at the thought of being poked and prodded in order to obtain training, but I’ll do it if it gets me closer to understanding what makes Hayden tick.
We drive up into the hills, not far from where Flynn lives, and a few minutes later, Tenley takes a turn into a driveway that isn’t immediately visible from the road. I’m not sure what I expected, but the vast estate that unfolds before me is a surprise. It looks like someone’s house—a rich someone, but a private home nonetheless.
“We have to shut off our phones to go in there, so I always leave mine in the car.”
“I’ll do the same.” I power mine down and then do hers for her. I put them in the glove box for safekeeping.
The house has a stone façade with pillars and a grand entryway that’s staffed by handsome young men wearing black vests over white shirts with black bow ties.
One of them opens Tenley’s door and greets her by name.
“Hi, there,” she says. “This is my friend, Addison. Devon is expecting us.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He helps her out of the car while another hot young man helps me. “He let us know. You have a good night.”
“Thank you.” Tenley hooks her arm through mine as we make our way inside, where doors are opened for us by more beautiful employees—male and female.
“Is this where people who don’t score acting jobs come to pass the time until they get their big breaks?”
She laughs. “I tease Dev all the time about hiring from central casting.”
We reach a reception desk where Tenley presents her membership ID to be scanned by the attendant, another handsome young man. “I have a guest tonight.”
I’m given a detailed confidentiality form that outlines the rules of the club, the importance of confidentiality and a warning that violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. I sign and date it and return it to the attendant.
“Have a nice evening.” He presses a button that opens frosted glass doors with half of the Black Vice logo on each side.
Tenley clearly knows her way around the club and leads me up the grand staircase to what was probably once a ballroom. Today, it’s a fully functioning BDSM club. It’s almost too much to take in at one time. There are multiple stages where various performances are taking place.
I’m so transfixed by what I’m seeing that Tenley has to take me by the shoulders to steer me toward the bar. The rest of the room consists of tables and seating areas where people in street clothes and bondage attire are conversing over drinks. If you were to remove the stages and the costumes, it might resemble a regular nightclub. But there’s nothing “regular” about this place, at least not in my experience.
Between the low, sexy beat of the music, the décor that focuses on the color black and the fragrant flowers spread throughout the big room, every one of my senses is fully engaged. My skin tingles with the desire to know more, to see more, to experience it for myself.
I wonder if Hayden has figured out that I dodged his men. If so, is he worried about what kind of trouble I might get into? What would he say if he knew where I am right now? Imagining his reaction makes me smile.
“I take it you like what you see,” Tenley says, misinterpreting my smile.
“I’m overwhelmed.”
She hands me a gin and tonic with a twist of lime. “Most people are the first time they come here. It’s a lot to take in if the scene is new to you.”
I raise my glass to her. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.” She leans in closer to me. “Now how about you tell me what you’re really doing here, Addie.”
“What the fuck do you mean you lost her?” I’m overcome with rage and fear at hearing that Gordon’s men somehow managed to lose track of Addie.
“I’m so sorry, Hayden,” Gordon says, his tone tight with displeasure. “My guys were on her. They followed her to her dad’s place in Redondo Beach, but she gave them the slip by leaving through a back door. We checked with the cab companies and Uber, and Uber will only tell us they made a pickup on the next block over around eight o’clock, but they won’t tell us who they picked up or where they took her. Calls to her cell phone are going right to voice mail, which means it’s probably off.”
“Son of a bitch.” If she gave them the slip, not only did she make them, but she’s probably up to something she doesn’t want me to know about. My fear spikes into the red zone. “I want you guys checking every high-end BDSM club in LA until you find her.”
“Umm, what makes you think that’s where she’ll be?”
“Her interest is the reason I wanted you on her in the first place.”
“And you’re sure that tracking her down at one of the clubs is the best idea?”
“Yes, I’m fucking sure! She could be in danger, Gordon. I want to know where she is.”
“I’ll get right on it and call you the minute I know anything.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m sorry again, Hayden. The men who were watching her have been reprimanded.”
“Just find her. Please find her.”
“I’m all over it.”
I put my cell phone on the coffee table where I can get to it quickly if needed and go to the bar to pour a healthy shot of Pappy, noticing that my hand is trembling. Fucking hell… Taking the glass with me, I sit on the sofa and stare at the phone, willing it to ring.
But it stays stubbornly silent while my stomach churns and my brain works overtime, sending me images of Addie at the mercy of a Dom who doesn’t love her, doesn’t care about her the way I do, doesn’t even know her. I shudder, and for a brief, terrifying moment, I fear I might vomit.
I put down the glass and drop my head into my hands, focusing on breathing my way through the nausea.
The phone rings, and I pounce.
“Whoa,” Flynn says, chuckling. “What’s with you?”
“Addie ditched Gordon’s guys. She’s out there somewhere on her own, and I have no idea what she’s up to. I’m losing my freaking mind.”
“Oh shit.”
“Yeah, not so funny anymore, is it?”
“He’s looking for her?”
“Yeah, they’re all over it, but Flynn… I mean, Jesus… We both know what can happen if she ends up in the wrong hands.”
“You have to have faith in her. She’s a smart, capable woman. If she’s venturing into our world, she’ll do so carefully and cautiously.”
“I’m ashamed to say I don’t even know who her closest friends are outside our group.”
He names a few people I’ve never heard of and then he gives me a name I recognize. Tenley Stewart, stylist to the stars and major Hollywood insider. “I had no idea she and Addie were close outside of work.”
“Why would you know? You’ve gone out of your way not to encourage anything more than friendship with Addie, and when you’re with her, you’re usually with the rest of us, too.”
“Still, I hate that I don’t know these things about her. Do you know how to get in touch with Tenley?”
“Yeah, I’ve got her number. I’ll give her a call.”
“Let me know what you find out.”
“I will. So… Listen, I was thinking after we talked earlier, and I know you’re going to flip out when I say this, but I feel like I have to say it anyway…”
“Okay.”
“Which is worse? The thought of training her yourself, or the thou
ght of someone else’s hands all over her?”
Moaning loud enough for him to hear me, I say, “The second one.”
“You know what you have to do, Hayden.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. If I could go there with Natalie, you can with Addie.”
“What if…”
“What?”
“What if I do and I freak her out or scare her or turn her off me completely?”
“What if you don’t and she finds someone else who will?”
“God, you’re a fucking asshole today.”
“According to you, I’m a fucking asshole most of the time.”
“True.”
His laughter echoes through the phone. “The main reason I called is I wanted to talk to you about my idea for doing a film about Nat’s story. I’ve been thinking a lot about it, and I was hoping for a few minutes in the next few days if you can fit me into your schedule.”
“Yeah, sure. We’re going to be in even deeper shit if we can’t name the other one very soon. The studio is threatening to name it for us.”
“Let’s put that on the agenda for tomorrow. We’ll get this figured out.”
“I can’t really think about anything right now except for where Addie is.”
“I’ll call Tenley. Let me know what you hear.”
“I will. See you in the morning.”
“See you then.”
I put down the phone and reach for my glass, taking a couple of easy sips until I’m sure my stomach isn’t going to reject the bourbon. The heat of the liquor works its way through me, warming the pervasive chill that’s overtaken me. I’m scared shitless, and I feel like I should be out looking for her, but I haven’t the first idea where to start. It’s been years since I’ve played in any club other than ours. I can’t afford the potential exposure, so I’m extra careful and have become removed from the larger scene in the city.
When I was younger, I did it all without a care as to who might find out or who might see me. As my career grew along with interest from the paparazzi, I became much more circumspect about keeping my private life private.
I receive a text from Flynn. Tenley’s phone went straight to voice mail.
Fuck!
I texted a few of her other friends to casually ask if they’ve heard from her. I’ll let you know if I hear anything.
I text him back. Thanks for trying.
Keep me posted.
The phone rings, and when I see Gordon’s name on the caller ID, my heart stops for a brief, paralyzing moment. I grab the phone and take the call.
“Hayden.”
I can tell by the way he says my name that something is terribly wrong. “Did you find her?”
“No, but when we did the nine p.m. check on your mother, we found her unresponsive. EMTs are taking her to Cedars-Sinai. I’m sorry to have to tell you this—”
I don’t hear the rest of what he says. Jamming the phone into my back pocket, I grab my keys and run for the door. The post-rehab calm has just given way to the storm.
Chapter 11
“I don’t know what you mean.” Tenley’s audacious question has thrown me for a loop. “I told you why I’m here. It’s research.”
“Flynn would never send you to a BDSM club by yourself to do research for him, so tell me what’s really going on.”
I’m cornered, and we both know it. “There’s a guy. He’s into this.” I gesture to the goings-on around us. “I’m not sure how I feel about it, so I wanted to find out more.”
“Is this ‘guy’ the same guy who kissed you on national TV the other night?”
“I’m not at liberty to discuss the business of the man who may or may not be that guy.”
“Fair enough. As someone who keeps most of Hollywood’s secrets, I can respect that.”
“Thank you for not pushing me to say more.”
“Your business is yours alone, Addie, and so is his. You know how I feel about the gossip in this town. The only reason I can freely explore this lifestyle is because Devon makes it easy for me. Without him, I doubt I’d take the risk.”
Devon Black joins us shortly after ten, apologizing for being late for our appointment. He’s everything Tenley said he would be and then some. Tall and fit with an arresting face, dark hair and even darker eyes that convey a sort of intensity I haven’t often encountered. Wearing a gray suit with a black button-down shirt and no tie, he greets Tenley with a brief kiss to the lips that’s somehow hotter than a deeper kiss would be from another man.
Tenley’s face flushes when he kisses her, and her eyes brighten when she looks at him. Despite her nonchalance in describing her relationship, she seems to be a woman deeply in love.
“It’s delightful to meet you, Addison.” Devon kisses the back of my hand when Tenley introduces us. “Tenley talks about you all the time, so it’s nice to finally put a gorgeous face with a name.”
I fan my face. “Okay, I’m thoroughly charmed.”
“Told you so,” Tenley says, smiling.
Devon laughs at our commentary. A drink appears on the bar in front of him, and he checks to make sure we’re set for drinks. “I hear you’re interested in my club and what goes on here.”
“You heard right.”
“And you’re new to the lifestyle?”
“I am.”
“What do you think so far?” He gestures to the big room full of decadence.
“It’s rather overwhelming at first.”
“I take it the concept is new to you?”
“It’s all new to me.”
“This’ll be fun,” he says with a broad sexy smile for Tenley. “How about we take a walk so you can see the rest?”
“There’s more?”
“Is there more, Tenley?”
“So much more,” she says. “Wait until you see.”
Devon offers each of us an arm. “Right this way, ladies.”
On fire with curiosity, I take hold of his left arm while Tenley curls her hand into crook of the right one. I tell myself I’m not doing anything wrong by looking. I haven’t betrayed Hayden or my feelings for him by further investigating a lifestyle that’s important to him. I’m after information, and Devon Black is an excellent source.
“The most important thing to know is that everything you see happening has been negotiated in advance between the Dom and sub. We don’t believe in surprises during a scene, and the sub can put a stop to it at any time with one word that’s also negotiated in advance.”
“What’s yours?” I ask Tenley.
“Style,” she says with a big smile.
“Why am I not surprised?” I ask with a laugh.
“Tenley told me I can speak freely with you,” Devon says, “so I’ll tell you that she was about where you are when we first met at a party. She’d never heard of most of what goes on here, let alone tried it. She didn’t get to where she is now overnight. It’s a process, often undertaken by two people who have a common interest in the lifestyle as well as each other.”
“So Doms and subs are always in relationships?”
“Not in the traditional sense of the word,” Devon says. “In some cases, the only time a Dom and sub see each other is here or at another club where they might share a scene. Others live in full-time Dom/sub or Master/slave relationships.”
“Master/slave? Seriously?”
“Everyone is different, and this lifestyle caters to what makes us unique. What wouldn’t work for you works beautifully for someone else.”
After watching a scene, I’m embarrassed and horrified and unbelievably aroused. More than anything, I’m confused as to how I can feel all those emotions at the same time.
Devon smiles. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I got the sense you might’ve been aroused by some of what you saw?”
“Definitely.”
“Then you should focus on the aspects that interest you and forget about the parts that don’t.”
“It’s really that
simple?”
“It is. The last thing I or any good Dom wants is a sub who rolls over and plays dead. I want an active, willing submissive who participates fully before, during and after our scene. No one is looking for a doormat to abuse, at least not any Dom I know.”
I’m incredibly comforted by Devon’s insight.
“Do you have other questions?”
“Could I maybe run a scenario by you to get your take on it?”
“Of course. Let’s go up to my place and have a drink.” Devon extends a hand to help me up and then does the same for Tenley before leading us to an elevator tucked discreetly into a nook.
“This house is incredible,” I say.
“It’s got an amazing pedigree.” As we enter the elevator, Devon names the Hollywood glitterati who’ve called it home over the last five decades. The elevator deposits us into a penthouse that overlooks the city below.
I gravitate immediately to the floor-to-ceiling windows that look down over his property. “Wow, this is beautiful.” A pool is lit up from within, casting a warm glow over the tiled deck and lush landscaping that surround it.
“I like it,” Devon says with the understatement that I’ve come to expect from him after a couple of hours in his presence. “What can I get you to drink?”
“Is a gin and tonic doable?”
“Absolutely. Coming right up. Tenley?”
“I’ll have the same, please.”
We settle with our drinks in a sitting area near the windows. Tenley sits right next to Devon, and he slips an arm around her. They make a gorgeous couple, and I wonder if he’s as serious about her as she seems to be about him.
“I’m happy to answer any questions you have,” he says. “One thing you’ll quickly learn is people in the lifestyle love to talk about it.”
“They really do,” Tenley says with a laugh. “It took me a while to get used to the dinner party conversations in Devon’s world.”
The look that passes between them demonstrates a deep level of intimacy that makes me envious. I want that. I want it so badly, and I want it with Hayden. The thought that we could have what they have is so tantalizing and yet so out of reach at the same time.
“I have a friend,” I begin haltingly, still hesitant to say too much out of fear of violating Hayden’s privacy. “We have an emotional connection, I guess you could say, that’s recently turned physical. Today I found out he’s part of the lifestyle, and when I asked if he would share it with me, he refused. He said I’m no one’s submissive. At the same time, he indicated how important the lifestyle is to him. So here I am, crazy about a guy who wants things he thinks I can’t give him.”