Page 8 of Craving Paradise

“I wanted to talk to you about something more serious, though. I wished I had broached the subject earlier, and maybe it could have saved all this heartache from happening. I think it’s time I take over the estate from you. You have enough on your plate getting better.”

My father is silent as my words sink in. I notice the tears are falling more freely down his cheeks.

Shit.

Have I pushed him too far? Was it not the right time?

“It’s okay, Dad, we don’t have to decide today,” I reassure him.

“I’m not crying because I’m sad, I’m crying because it’s a relief. I never wanted the Lordship or the estate. I also had to let you find your way in the world too. I couldn’t wrap this noose around your neck,” he confesses.

“I had no idea you had been waiting all this time. I’d have taken over earlier.”

“Guess we’re not so good at communicating, are we?” my father says with a tiny chuckle.

“Guess we’re not. We need to work on that. Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“I’m of sound mind, Jasper. Yes. I’ll sign, sell, or do whatever you need me to do.”

Such a relief. “You don’t have to do a thing, Dad. I’ll sort it out with the lawyers. You need to get better. And this time, it must be for good,” I say sternly.

“It will be, son. I promise.”

I’ve heard that promise a million times before. I hope this time it lasts.

2

LAUREN

“Lauren, you’re up next,” Sara calls out to me in the waiting room. Sara is the client resources manager, making sure all The Paradise Club clients’ requests are met. I’ve arrived for the start of my shift at The Paradise Club, an elite sex club for the richest people in the world. It is beyond anything I ever knew existed, and that’s the point of the club—no one knows about it unless you are one of the privileged few.

I’ve been working here for a while now with my best friend, Eloise or Elle, as she’s known here. She’s my ride-or-die, and I’m hers. We’re soul sisters. Elle came from a messed-up family. We met at boarding school and hit it off right away. During the first school holidays, I found out that she was going home to an empty house as her parents had made plans to go to South America, and they didn’t include her. So, I asked my parents if she could come home with us because no one should be home alone for the holidays. She did, and for the rest of our schooling lives, every single school holiday, even Christmas, she came home with us. Her parents never cared, so my family adopted her.

That’s why I’m here. I’m helping Elle save money so one day she’ll have enough to open her bakery. It’s a dream she has talked about all her life. I’ve offered many times to give her the money, but the bitch is stubborn and wants to do it on her own. Hence, why we’re now working at an elite sex club.

It’s not like I had anything else going on in my life. Being a model was hard for me and didn’t come naturally. Yes, I had the look, but it’s not easy, especially because I love food. My parents own a modeling agency, and I tried helping, but I’m not cut out to be someone’s assistant or answer phone calls. This job wasn’t a last resort, and I didn’t get into working at a sex club because I couldn’t do anything else—I fell into this world because I accidentally started my own business hosting sex parties.

It wasn’t until I started working at The Paradise Club that I realized what I had done. It goes to show you how clueless I was about business, about everything. I wasn’t planning on hosting sex parties, but they sort of fell into my lap, or I fell into someone’s lap—LOL. It was people I knew getting together and having consensual sex with one or more people—normal summer holiday stuff, really. We bounced around to all the party places—Ibiza, Mykonos, London, Paris, Barcelona, Berlin. You name it, we partied there.

I wasn’t cut out for the life of a DJ, either, like my sister. I tried and failed miserably—it’s harder than it looks. I don’t have the coordination you need to be one of those. And I’m not cut out for being an actor like my brother, Lennox. I’ve done commercials before, but honestly, those performances were so wooden. So, I’m here at The Paradise Club, having fun while Elle saves up for her dream, and I try and work out mine.

I’m kind of hoping my dream pops into my head and gives me something to work toward because there isn’t much I have planned to do with my life. And as fun as this place is, I don’t want to spend the next ten years here. It’s not like I need to work. My trust fund would keep me going for the rest of my life, but that would be boring having no purpose in life. At least working here, I have a schedule to keep. If I were a socialite and spent my days shopping and doing lunch with those other rich bitches, I’m pretty sure I would go insane.

“Here’s your client. I don’t think you’ve been with Mr. Fox before, have you?” Sara asks.

The name isn’t familiar.

Sara hands me the tablet containing all of Mr. Fox’s information. I open the screen, and I’m met with a photo of a seriously hot guy, which I wasn’t expecting. The first picture looks like something taken off his LinkedIn profile, where he’s serious and dressed in a suit. There’s another one with his friends, their arms around each other’s shoulders, wearing low-slung board shorts, showing off their incredible bodies, looking tanned with enormous smiles on their faces and the ocean behind them. They look like a fun bunch of guys. Then there’s another one at what looks to be a charity event of some sort, and he’s dressed in a tuxedo. Now that man looks hot, dressed like a sexy James Bond. Some men just know how to wear a tux.

“Mr. Fox is in Room 39,” Sara tells me before turning on her heel and walking back toward her office.

“You look pleased,” Elle says, pulling me from my lust-filled thoughts.

“Sure am. Look at what’s waiting for me tonight.” I show her the tablet.

She gives a low whistle. “Have fun with that.”

“Oh, I plan to.” I wave her goodbye and head through the back corridors of the club, which is for staff only. It’s a minefield of underground tunnels zig-zagging around the building so we can move seamlessly around behind the scenes. I read Mr. Fox’s profile. He’s a thirty-two-year-old single professional who works in finance, running his own wealth management company. So, he's smart and hot—good to know. Then I read down the list of things he likes—voyeurism, multiple women, role-playing, rope bondage, orgies, oral sex, both giving and receiving, spanking, use of riding crop and hands only, blindfolding, etc. He isn’t into other men, anything to do with human bodily functions, cuckolding, and so on. He has completely normal interests for the average person. I can have fun with this.

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