Page 1 of Masked Indulgence
Masked Indulgence
A Billionaire Holiday Romance
PartOne
Chapter1
Nixon
Halloween Night
A slight chill took over the night air as my driver pulled up in front of the club I’d directed him to. This was where I’d always come to find a bit of relief. The darker side of me often came out around the most sinful of holidays. The Dom in me wanted a sub to play with for one night. That’s all I dared to allowmyself.
I’d trekked up to Portland, Oregon, to get away from my life in Los Angeles, California, for a speck of time. I didn’t dabble in the BDSM realm at home. I saved that for when I came to the club I’d joined when it first opened a few years back. The Dungeon of Decorum was a place I hadn’t often visited, only coming up once, or sometimes twice, ayear.
I only liked to play at being a Dominant; I wasn’t the full-time kind. I had never leased a sub or even paid for more than a night’s pleasure. It was just a way for me to blow off steam once in a while, nothingserious.
When I’d received the invitation to the club’s first annual Halloween Ball, I got the itch to have some BDSM fun and made plans to attend what the invitation assured would be a greattime.
A red carpet led me from the car I’d hired to the front door of what looked like a shack. On the outside, that’s all anyone saw. On the inside, the stairs took you underground, to where a massive structure housed a large main room, several smaller more intimate rooms, a host of private rooms, and even private suites for long-termstays.
Walking into the main room, I found a giant banner hanging over the crowd who’d gathered to take part in the eerie festivities. Cloaks covered most of the men’s tuxedos, just as mine did. A plain Lone Ranger-style mask hid my identity. The women were the real stars of the night, decked out in all kinds of sexy, sinisterattire.
I must’ve looked a bit overwhelmed by the plethora of willing women, as a man nudged my shoulder. “See any who are to yourliking?”
With a nod, I answered his question. “Many are to my liking. This is by far the sexiest Halloween party I’ve ever been invitedto.”
“Me too,” the man said then chuckled. “But I’m not here to shop for a new sub; I’ve got me a permanent one now.” He reached out to shake my hand. “Dr. OwenCantrell.”
As I shook his hand, I recalled hearing that name before—then it struck me. “You’re that plastic surgeon to the stars. Or you were before that reality show ended. I believe it was titledBeverly Hills Reconstruction. I’m based out of Los Angeles too. Nixon Slaughter. I own and operate ChamplainServices.”
“I’ve heard of that,” Owen said as he nodded. “It’s an environmentalagency.”
To say I was proud of my company was too small a word. That company had taken a lot of time to build and to make a name for itself. After years of hard work, I’d accomplished more than I had ever dreamed. We worked worldwide, and the best part was that we were helping the planet and futuregenerations.
Shoving my hands into my pockets, I rocked on my feet, pride overflowing inside of me. “So you’ve heard of my littleendeavor?”
“Who hasn’t?” he asked with a grin. “I also read something in theL.A. Timesabout you and a couple of other guys building some new club downtown. An exclusive one much like the select few nightclubs in Los Vegas. When do you suppose that’ll beopening?”
“We’re hoping to have it open for a New Year’s Eve bash. That’s the target date for the grand opening.” I pulled a business card out of the breast pocket of my jacket and handed it to Owen. “Here’s my number. Give me a call, and I’ll set you and a date up for that, on thehouse.”
He pocketed the card and clapped me on the back. “Cool. We’ll be there. Thanks, man.” He pulled out a card of his own and gave it to me. “And if you know of anyone who needs my services, you give them my number. And let them know if they say you referred them, they’ll get a ten percentdiscount.”
I put away his card as I said, “Will do,partner.”
A woman with long, silky black hair, wearing a barely-there teddy and a giant mask with peacock feathers, came to Owen’s side. He put his arm around her, pulling her close to his side. “Allow me to introduce you to the woman who’ll be my date at your grand opening. This is Petra, mywife.”
She extended a long, slender hand and I took it, delivering a kiss to the top of it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Petra. I’m Nixon Slaughter. I look forward to seeing you both at my nightclub on New Year’s Eve. You’ll be my honoredguests.”
“Oh,” she looked at her husband. “That club, I read about it.” Her dark eyes turned to mine. “Have you come up with a name for it yet? Last I read, you and your partnershadn’t.”
Shaking my head, I shoved my hands back into my pockets. “No, we’re at an impasse. But we’ll come up with something soon—just as soon as we can figure out how to get Gannon Forester to stop shooting down all of ourideas.”
Petra’s eyes lit up as she said, “How about Club Exclusive? You know, because it’s catering to an exclusive branch of society, the ultra-wealthy?”
“I’ll run it by my partners.” Our attention was then taken by someone who’d gotten to the mic on the mainstage.
“Happy Halloween, everybody!” the Master of Ceremonies calledout.
