“Alright, then,” Nik said dubiously, and went on. “You should know that he’s a concert pianist and a composer, and he’ll be working while he’s here.”
My role in service to Lord Arden was multiple: valet, assistant, serving breakfast, lunch or dinner trays in his rooms…whatever he desired, I would provide. I gave my own grin when I heard that. “You know what?” I asked. “That job description would fit what I do at the Bellamy, too. ‘Make people happy.’”
“That was one reason Zee thought you’d fit in well here,” Nik admitted. “She said you demonstrated a natural talent for meeting people’s needs.”
I’mgoodat my job, andreallygood at concierge work. I love fulfilling the needs of our guests there. I’d never thought about it in terms of kink before, especially because I’m kind of bossy with the other staff—I give a lot of direction to the newer staff. Brandon in particular needs a lot of prodding to do anything.
“Except the food serving stuff,” I added quickly. “I’ve never worked in a restaurant.”
“You’ll pick it up,” Nik assured me.
I hoped so. Food service at the Bellamy Grand was a big fucking deal. For our waitstaff, food service was a career, not something they did while they waited to be discovered by a casting agent or music studio exec, like the rest of LA.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I’d said confidently back to Nik.
And, well, here we are.
Lord Arden rushing away to be cleaned from his red wine bath, and me wandering the halls of the house, completely lost.
CHAPTER5
Oliver
Nik’s shown me several times around the interior of the house, but still advised me to keep the map with me. I’d scoffed at the idea. Silently.
I’m regretting that now.
Eventually, I find my way back to my bedroom, wondering if I should just call it quits right now. I’m not normallysucha klutz. But ever since I saw Haughty Hottie in all his naked glory asleep on that bed, my brain’s gone on vacation or something.
When he didn’t hear me knocking at his door, I ended up opening it and sticking my head around. I was gonna call out—I assumed he was in the bathroom or something—but there he was, deeply asleep on the bed, one arm under his head and the other curling across his chest.
And he wasnaked.
Under the robe, I mean.
He was wearing a robe, but it was flopping open because of the way his legs were half-turned to his side, and my eyes just…didn’t stop in time. I got a big eyeful of his heavy cock, propped up on a ballsack about the size of my fist.
I whipped back around the door immediately and knocked a lot fucking harder, but I couldn’t get that sight out of my mind. And before you call me a size queen, it wasn’t just the glimpse of his dick that had me interested.
It waseverything, during that first meeting. His messy black bedhead hair and just-as-dark eyes, severe and judging as they took me in. But also his manner. His expectation that I’d obey, be utterly and perfectly obedient, go here and there for him… I don’t know. It got me hot in a way that I haven’t felt in alongtime, except maybe right at the beginning when I was first on the scene, and everything was new and exciting.
I got the feeling that Haughty Hottie—Lord Arden—wouldn’t let me get away with shrugging off commands or shirking my duties. And more than that, I wouldn’twantto shrug them off.
And most of all, I felt like serving him wouldn’t just be an ego trip for him. Insisting that I call himmy lordis totally pretentious…but I guess thatishis title. It kinda suits him, too.
There’s just something about him, something deep in his core that I recognize, something that justmakeshim naturally Dominant. Like the way Seth Jackson is physically big and imposing, and Tristan gets all wobbly-kneed about the way he opens jars and shit.
Haughty Hottie is the same way, only he dominates with his personality instead of his physique. Even drenched in a red tide of wine, he kept his cool, although those dark eyes snapped fire when they glared at me.
I throw my hands over my hot face again as I replay the moment for the twentieth time. As I do, I get a wet blop on my nose and a strong scent of Zinfandel.
The dance card he tied onto my wrist. It’s soaked, just like his shirt. I pull it off my wrist, angry at myself all over again.
No one else among the staff had a card tied to their wrist likeIdid. Haughty Hottie obviously thought I’d need a lot of correction.
What kills me is that drenching him like that just proved himright.
A few minutes later, there’s a soft knock at my door. “Yeah?” I call.
