The VIP Room (13 page)

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Authors: Lauren Landish,Emilia Winters,Sarah Brooks,Alexa Wilder,Layla Wilcox,Kira Ward,Terra Wolf,Crystal Kaswell,Lily Marie

BOOK: The VIP Room
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Alexa Wilder has been a sucker for romance since she found her first Harlequin at a hospital rummage sale when she was thirteen. While she loves all forms of the written word (so much that she occasionally gets caught reading the cereal box at breakfast), love stories have always been her favorite.

She lives in the southern U.S. with her husband, two sons, an assorted menagerie of pets, and spends most of her time dreaming up sexy, domineering heroes and the feisty, strong willed heroines who will send them reeling.

Mr. Blackwell: Part One
By Emilia Winters

All three parts available on Amazon!

Tristan was everything I’d ever wanted in a one night stand. He was panty-melting hot with a body chiseled by Greek gods and a lover of filthy dirty talk that left me gasping and begging. Better yet, he gave me the best wall-banging, scream-inducing sex I’d ever had in my life.

Then he completely humiliated me once everything was said and done…

When I found out that my sex god was none other than Tristan Blackwell, billionaire heir to the famous banking empire and a notorious playboy known for getting his way, I
never
wanted to see him again. Not in a million years.

Unfortunately, luck had never been on my side…

Note: This is the first part of a serialized romance. Each installment is 25,000 words long or 100 pages and ends on a light cliffhanger. For mature audiences only (18+).

Chapter 1


K
aren said
that this is the place to find rich husbands,” my best friend, Larene, said.

The teasing note in her voice prevented one of my infamous eye rolls. Instead, I told her, “Karen sounds like my grandfather.” I was pleased that my voice didn’t tremble, considering how rapidly my heart was pounding. Staring up at the intimidating building framed against the dark, obsidian sky, I was struck by how out of character this was for me. But I was a woman on a mission. I was motivated. Yet, I was terrified.

Larene sensed my trepidation. She wrapped her slim arms around my shoulders and brightly declared, “It’s like riding a bike. You just need to get back on the saddle.”

“You just mixed idioms. A horse saddle isn’t a bike seat. It doesn’t work.”

“It works in this case, Noelle. All you need is a stud to ride you like a bike.”

I pulled a face, but couldn’t help the hysterical chuckle that bubbled from my throat. “You’re crazy, you know that, right?” I told her fondly. I loved Larene. We had been best friends since college, ever since she approached me at a house party my freshman year. I’d been the awkward loner in the corner, sipping quietly on stale, warm beer but I would’ve taken that over sitting in a lonely dorm room any day. Larene, the quintessential it girl, had befriended me that night and we’ve been inseparable ever since.

“My mother tells me that every day,” she chirped and then clapped her hands together once she released my shoulders. “Now, come on. Let’s get you laid.”

She walked in her high heels and tight body wrap dress with a grace I could never hope to replicate. Larene had managed to squeeze me into a black sequined dress that was a size too small and a hundred inches too short. And the heels…my God. The silver, strappy stilettos screamed “fuck me” and I kept wobbling around like a newborn giraffe. Tomorrow morning, hopefully post-lay, I would regret the heels. But it wasn’t like I had a choice. Larene was already a force to be reckoned with and she was scary when she wanted to be.

Valoir
was one of the most exclusive clubs in the city. Only the rich, the famous, and the drop dead gorgeous were allowed in. Since I wasn’t any of those things, I had my doubts about the evening, but Larene’s on and off again boyfriend was the owner of the club.

“Hello Hector,” she purred at the intimidating man in a dark suit at the club’s entrance.

And she apparently knew the bouncer. That was a definite plus.

“Larene,” he said with a smile, nodding. His eyes slid over me and I fought the urge to tug on the hem of my dress. I wasn’t necessarily self-conscious, but this dress could make a veteran stripper blush. He stepped aside to let us pass, much to the frustration of the people waiting in the long wrap-around line outside the club, and Larene dropped a kiss on his cheek as payment. Judging by the way Hector blushed, I could’ve worn a potato sack and I would’ve still been let in if Larene was at my side.

We slipped through the club’s heavy oak doors.

Larene obviously knew where she was going because we followed a hallway until we reached another door. Beyond it, I could hear pounding bass and laughter. A man stationed there smiled, giving Larene a familiar, friendly nod, and opened the door.

“Welcome to
Valoir
,” he greeted and I barely suppressed a nervous laugh.

Music poured out as we stepped in. I swallowed thickly, even as Larene gave me an encouraging smile. Everything was so overwhelming. Too much.

I expected a mass of bodies in the club, grinding away like animals in heat. I expected the smell of musk and sweat. I expected my skin to dampen from the heat and perspiration in the air. I discovered something else entirely.

There were still people dancing. There was still a DJ and green and blue strobe lights, like I would typically expect to find in a club. However, the vast majority of
Valoir
was made up of private booths and rooms, lined up against the walls. Even though the rooms were private, only a screen of clear glass separated them from the loud music permeating the rest of the club. People could look in, voyeurs in their own right. Most of the rooms were occupied by businessmen, clothed in their hand-tailored suits and easy, charming smiles.

Rich husbands, indeed
, I thought.

On the far side of the room, situated away from the dance floor and expansive bar, I noticed that a couple rooms were tinted, so no one could see inside. Larene saw me glancing at them and with a knowing smile, yelled over the music, “Kane had them put in. Just in case.” She winked. The look she gave me said she’d experienced those private rooms first hand. No doubt with Kane, the owner of
Valoir
.

This isn’t you
, my mind whispered as my eyes darted around like a cornered stray. This wasn’t my scene. I didn’t do the whole club, hook-up thing that my girlfriends had perfected in college. I was always the girl who had a steady relationship. The girl who liked to stay in, cook dinner, drink wine, and catch up on my TV shows after a long, satisfying day at work. Not get all dolled up and seek out filthy, hot sex.

But my dry spell had lasted too long. After Ryan, my ex-boyfriend, decided that he wanted someone more exciting, I’d holed up and separated from the rest of the world for months on end. I hadn’t had sex in over a year. I was only 25, but I was acting like a widowed spinster. So, I didn’t protest when Larene intervened. She’d been hinting about “getting me some” for weeks now and I figured it was time to try and reclaim at least some of my withered sexuality. You know it’s bad when your vibrator has literally been gathering dust.

Tonight would change that. According to Larene, I needed a one-night stand with a hot guy. The problem was that I’ve never had uncomplicated sex in my life. Sex was special to me. How could I let a stranger know me so intimately?

I shook myself out of my thoughts.

No
. I
would
have messy, dirty, fleeting sex with a gorgeous, hunky stranger tonight. I was a woman on a mission. I just needed to remember that.

Larene expertly weaved in and out of the crowd to commandeer a small table close to the bar. I sat down gingerly, wriggling my dress down to keep from flashing my crotch to everyone in the vicinity. This section of the club was a little less chaotic than the dancing side and I was happy for the momentary reprieve. I noticed how bunched my shoulders were and forced myself to relax.

“Stay here,” Larene told me. “I’ll go get us some drinks.”

I nodded and watched with a sense of panic as she left me at the table and made her way to the bar. There were at least eight bartenders working, so it wasn’t too crowded. There was a steady flow of customers coming and going. Despite my reservations about Kane, even I had to admit that the man knew how to run a club. No wonder there was a line out the door every night.

I scanned the dance floor as I waited, resisting the urge to fumble with my phone. Instead, I watched, entranced, as women cast “come-hither” glances at men and wished I could be that confident when it came to the opposite sex. Once again, I was struck by how wrong this felt. I felt like a stranger in my tight, short dress, curled hair, and heavy make-up.

And earlier this evening, when Larene unveiled her creation to me in the mirror, I’d been shocked. She’d curled my dark brown hair into soft ringlets and painted my lips red. Not one blemish marred my smooth skin, courtesy of the heavy duty foundation she’d given me last Christmas which I still hadn’t opened. A soft, shimmery pink flush highlighted my cheekbones and she’d done something to my eye make-up to enhance my hazel eyes. Larene had always complained that I didn’t do enough. She claimed that I was a natural beauty and that I could play up my features more.

I
did
take pride in my appearance. I had to being in the business I was in. But my morning ritual consisted of my no-fuss three-step face: concealer, mascara, cheek and lip stain. Done. I was always a fan of sleeping in as long as possible, but I needed to look presentable.

My skin prickled.

I swung my gaze around but saw nothing. At least until, a few moments later, I happened to glance towards one of the private rooms on the second floor directly across from me.

A flush radiated to every part of my body. Through the clear glass, my eyes locked onto a dark-haired man. He was dressed in a charcoal grey suit, his hands loosely wrapped around a tumbler of amber liquid. And he was
gorgeous
. Panty-melting gorgeous with his square, clean-shaven jaw, neat dark hair, and broad, strong shoulders. Framed inside the glass window, he looked like he belonged on a magazine cover.

And he was looking right at me. Or, at least, he seemed to be.

Awareness made me sit up a little straighter, but I instantly lowered my gaze to my lap out of reflex. I saw that my palms were trembling. From nerves or desire, I didn’t know, but I knew without a doubt that he was one of the most handsome man I’d ever seen.

And I’d wimped out and looked away.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a brief moment, taking a steadying breath. I remembered what I wanted to accomplish tonight. I remembered that I was young and that I hadn’t had sex in over a year. I remembered that I’d never had wild, crazy sex with a hot stranger and that this was my opportunity.

I opened my eyes and, with my heart pounding in my ears, glanced back towards the private room.

The dark-haired man’s sensuous lips curved into a smile as his eyes connected with mine.

Chapter 2


I
got
you a rum and apple,” Larene chirped, setting down two glasses with a hard
thump
. “With a double shot.”

I was both relieved and disappointed when I was forced to break the mystery man’s gaze. I thanked her and reached for my glass, taking a greedy gulp. The drink was strong and I immediately warmed up as the dark rum sizzled down my throat. As a certified lightweight, I knew it wouldn’t be long before I felt the alcohol’s effects.

Once I set my glass down, I chanced a look back up to the private room. He was still there, handsome as ever, but an older man had joined him. I watched as they spoke together and my heart sped up when he grinned.
God
, he could get away with anything with a smile like that. It was alluring, yet dangerous, like a predator circling prey that wanted to be caught.

His eyes flashed to me. Those same sensuous lips curved into a smile and then he turned to the older man beside him, said something, and clapped him on the back. A burst of excitement and nervousness raced through me when I realized he was leaving the private room. His movements were captivating and graceful as he headed towards the stairs leading down to the ground floor.

“What is it?” Larene asked.

“Nothing,” I said, a bit too quickly. She knew me too well. She automatically glanced in the direction my eyes had been trained in.

“Which one?” she asked. “The one in the red shirt?”

It was no use. “No. Dark grey suit. He’s coming down the stairs.”

There was a pause as she located the man in question. Then she spun around to face me, beaming. “He’s perfect!” she squealed. “Perfect one-night stand material.”

My face blazed. “He’s probably not even interested.”

“Noelle, look at me,” she ordered, her face suddenly serious. “You’re a beautiful and successful woman with a body to die for. Ryan was a complete idiot, but it’s past time for you to get back out there. You
will
have sex with that man tonight if it’s the last thing I do.” I took another hasty sip of my drink, knowing that when Larene set her mind to something, nothing would stop her. She glanced back over her shoulder. “Okay, I think he’s coming over.”

I choked. “He is?”

“Yes. Do you want me to stay or go?”

“Stay!”

“No, actually, I think I’ll go see Kane.” She winked. “You’ll be
fine
. Just text me if you decide to go home with him.”

“Larene!” I hissed, standing up from the table so I could reach out and grab her arm. Panic swarmed my veins. I wasn’t ready for this.

She evaded my grip and gave me a small flit of a wave. “You’ll thank me for this later.”

And with that, my so-called best friend disappeared into the crowd, heading towards the back of the club where Kane’s office was.

I was just starting to imagine all the ways I could make her life a living hell when a deep, velvety voice washed over me. Goosebumps spread over my bare flesh, even in the heat of the club.

“I hope I didn’t scare her off.”

His voice sounded positively sinful, beautiful. It was both rough and smooth, like the warm caress of an experienced lover.

I didn’t look at him right away. Nor did I answer him immediately. My heart was pounding so hard in my chest that I feared if I tried to speak, I would sound like a stuttering, breathless idiot.

Breathe, Noelle, breathe.

When I finally regained some of my composure—although not nearly as much as I hoped—I turned my head to regard him. The most beautiful, piercing green eyes froze me into place. I noticed, with some disbelief, that the most handsome man I’d ever seen was even
more
handsome close-up. He was tall, too. Even in my high stripper heels, my head only came up to his chin. I took in his broad shoulders and the way he filled out his expensive looking suit.

My eyes found his lips and saw that they were still quirked up into that sensual smile.
He has nice lips
, I thought in a daze.

I may as well hand him my panties now. He probably had quite the collection.

Swallowing audibly, I said the first thing that came to mind. “I can call her back for you. If you’d like.”

I wanted to slap myself.

Amusement slid onto his features and he stepped closer. I could smell his cologne. His spicy scent was intoxicating, mouthwatering.

“Why would I want her when the most beautiful woman here is right in front of me?” he murmured in that sex voice of his.

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. It was a nervous, high-pitched shrill laugh that I’d probably think about later and cringe. But the line was so over the top that I couldn’t help it. “Does that work for you? Usually?”

His eyes glittered with amusement. “You’d be surprised.”

“In all fairness, I don’t think it’s your words, so much as your looks,” I blurted.
Jesus
, this night was getting better and better. I fidgeted with my fingers, an old habit, but forced myself to still when I saw his eyes flash down to my hands.

His expression shifted as he studied me. He hid his surprise well, but I couldn’t help but wonder if he regretted approaching me.

Stop it
. I straightened my spine, remembering Larene’s words. I
was
a beautiful woman. I would take this man home. I would get laid and have hot, crazy sex tonight. I would end this dry spell and move on with my life. Finally.

“I’m Noelle,” I said, my chin lifting. I thrust my hand towards him. Did people generally shake hands on the cusp of a one-night stand? I wasn’t exactly aware of the protocol, but I didn’t know what else to do.

He grasped my palm and I barely stifled a gasp. His hands were warm and strong…unbelievably masculine. He didn’t shake my hand as I expected him to, but he used his grip to pull me closer, until I was only a breath away. If he were any other man, I’d think it was overbearing. But the heated look in his eyes made a part of me come alive that had been dormant for much too long.

“Tristan.” His voice was so deep that it seemed to emanate from deep within his chest. I swear I could feel the delicious rumble of it in my own body.

“Nice to meet you, Tristan,” I whispered, caught in the piercing green of his eyes. Despite the noise in the club, we were so close that I knew he heard me. He grinned and a rapid fluttering started up in my belly. I knew then that I had never been more attracted to a man in my entire life. It was such a strong awareness, one that both excited and frightened me with its potency.

He leaned forward until I felt his breath on the sensitive flesh of my ear. “What is it that you want tonight, Noelle?” he murmured.

My body warmed, my blood rushed. This was it. This was my opportunity, my opening.

I answered him, my voice strong. “Just one night.”

White teeth flashed and his green eyes gleamed with satisfaction and sensual promise.

“I can do that.”

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