A strict BDSM club was out because I knew nothing about the lifestyle. I enjoy kinky sex as much as the next guy, and though I have a dominant personality, I’m not a Dominant. My need for control is geared more toward the business aspect of my life. However, my girlfriend at the time was very adventurous in the bedroom, and she loved to role-play and dress up. That’s how I came up with the idea for Veil.
A fantasy club.
Heather frowns, confused. “I thought you don’t allow couples.”
“I don’t.”
The last thing I need is an unsatisfied couple or a jealous spouse getting pissed off and making a scene or dragging the club’s reputation through the mud.
She pushes her head back against the seat and groans. “He’s cheating on her.”
It shouldn’t matter what Victor does outside Veil. It’s not my problem—or it wasn’t until I laid eyes on Makayla.
“Victor has a thing for Desiree.”
Heather gasps. “Oh my God, Cannon. Is he the guy who just paid a shit ton of money to spend three days with her?”
My grip tightens on the steering wheel. “Yep.”
She blows out a breath and turns to look out the window. “I’m happy Desiree found someone who wants her so bad that he’s willing to shell out that kind of money… but not at Makayla’s expense.”
“Makayla will be fine,” I mutter.
She turns her face to me, and I can feel the weight of her glare. “What are you up to, Cannon?” she asks skeptically.
“Why do you think I’m up to something?”
“Because I know you. Please don’t turn this into another Courtney situation.”
“Makayla is different.”
“You don’t even know Makayla. Hell, I don’t even know Makayla. And Courtney was normal until you took her to Veil.”
She’s got a point. Courtney is the reason I no longer allow a couples’ membership. I only took her to Veil once, and that was enough. She didn’t know it was a private club. She was under the impression that it was a party for the elite who enjoyed a little kink. Courtney was eager to play until she met Desiree and threw a jealous tantrum in front of the other members. I took Courtney home and broke it off. She harassed Heather relentlessly after that until my sister finally quit their sorority to get away from her.
I shake my head and give her a wry grin. “Oh, I have something else in mind for Makayla.”
Chapter Four
Makayla
Victor pulls his Mercedes into the valet entrance at The Martin Hotel. He currently lives in the penthouse, and a couple of days before his business trip he moved me in with a promise to take me apartment hunting this weekend.
Lunch went surprisingly well despite the tension between us. Victor and my father made plans to play golf, while my mother drilled me with questions about my plans for the future. Afterward, I kissed my parents goodbye and promised to call them later.
I collect my things from the back seat as Victor climbs out and comes around to my side.
Passing the valet his keys, he takes my hand and leads me into the lobby, bypassing the front desk and heading over to a bank of elevators. As we wait for the elevator to arrive, I take a moment to appreciate the lobby decor, earth tones mixed with dark wood. Pillars that resemble large vases line the main walkways. Hundreds of lights in the shape of leaves spill from the tops, giving them a floral vibe.
The elevator pings and the doors slide open. Victor gestures for me to go first, then steps inside and pushes the PH button.
The ride is silent as Victor and I stare at each other from opposite sides of the elevator. His demeanor is now cool as he leans against the wall, hands braced on the railing beside him.
He’s very attractive, tall, and fit. His chiseled jaw is lined with day-old scruff, and his blue eyes stand out against his black hair.
“What are you thinking?” he asks.
I blow out a breath and force myself to relax as much as possible. “Honestly, I don’t know what to think. My stomach has been in knots since I walked out of the auditorium today. I know you’re upset with me for what I said the other day, but I’m not going to apologize for it.”
He nods once, then flicks his gaze to the rising numbers above the door before bringing it back to me. “Don’t ever apologize for speaking your mind, Makayla.”
The elevator slows to a stop, and the doors open with a whoosh. Victor gestures for me to go first, so I step from the elevator and into the foyer. A round glass table sits in the middle of the space with a massive floral arrangement in the center.
Turning left, I follow Victor through the shiny black double doors, and down the short hall that opens up to a living, dining, and kitchen area. Victor removes his jacket and drapes it over an accent chair before making his way over to the bar. I drop my stuff on the same chair and head toward the floor-to-ceiling glass walls that give a view of the ocean that stretches on for miles.
The pop of a cork grabs my attention, and I look from the window over my shoulder to Victor standing at the bar, pouring two glasses of champagne.
He motions me over to the living area and passes me a glass as we take a seat on the sofa. Victor sits facing me, pulling his knee up on the cushion, and draping his arm across the back.
“A toast.” He raises his glass and clinks it against mine. “To new beginnings.”
He brings the champagne glass to his lips, eyeing me over the rim as he takes a mouthful. I frown. “Drink your champagne, Makayla.”
I narrow my eyes and take a tentative sip.
He tosses back the rest of his drink, before taking the flute from my hand and placing both glasses on the coffee table.
“Come here.” He shifts
