Chapter 8
Nala had never been up in the West Hills before. It was a lofty, natural place that she could never dare to afford, so why would she go there?
Xavier Crow lived here when spending time in Portland. As far as Nala knew, it was his primary residence ever since he decided the area was where his newest ventures would take place. Get him a quick drive to the airport, and it’s weekly meetings in Seattle for this guy. Even though the sun had long set by the time they ascended the hills, Nala was still in awe over the lights illuminating large houses and even tiny, albeit adorable cottages.
“He lives way up here, huh?” They drove for several minutes, with the houses becoming sparser and the trees denser. It was hard to believe they were still in Portland.
“He’s one of the richest men on the coast. Of course he lives all the way out here, if he’s not living in a penthouse condo.”
“Oh, well, excuse me.”
“You’re excused.”
Nala almost smacked his shoulder until she realized that this was Vincent’s dry humor striking again. The more she knew this man, the more she realized that his sense of humor was a bit… off. Oftentimes, Nala was more offended than amused. She supposed that happened when she was involved with one of the most aloof men around. Even for Portland, Vincent Lane was…
“We’re almost there.” He pulled down a marked lane, slowing down as he looked around for any guards or other people hired to keep out the riff-raff. Do the crazies make their way up here? It would be quite the hike. Nala didn’t put it past them, though. “You ready?”
Nala subconsciously touched the choker around her neck. Her collar. The moment I step in Crow’s mansion, I am Nightingale. I belong to Vincent and have to do whatever he says. Nightingale was also a master spy, and tonight would be the first real night of espionage.
“Good. Did you review the layout earlier today?”
“Of course.” Vincent had sent her the public domain plans to Xavier’s mansion. He had it on Lucian’s authority that most of Crow’s home parties were hosted on the second floor, east wing, which also happened to be where his main office was located. It was their hope that, as soon as the couples broke up for “playtime,” Nala would be able to sneak into the office. How would she get in? They still had yet to figure that out.
“Good.” Vincent pulled into a roundabout and then switched gears as they went up a dirt road lined with Christmas lit trees. At the end of the road was a baroque mansion with all the trimmings. Gaudy as hell. Like Crow. His business buildings and residences are all super modern, and then there’s his personal home. No wonder he liked to watch spanking so much. “We’re here. Time to put Nala away, darling.”
She was already changing her outlook. Nala pulled her long hair around her face, framing it and her breasts as they pushed out of a black bustier. She wore one of Vincent’s smaller dinner jackets to keep out the chill until they got inside. Otherwise, it was corsets and miniskirts… and big black boots. I’m feeling more and more like a Nightingale as time goes on. Excellent. She could get shit done that way.
“Welcome sir, madam.” The butler from The Crow’s Nest came out to greet them the moment Vincent pulled up. “Parking is around the corner. Please meet us inside the foyer. Master Crow has asked everyone to gather there before heading upstairs.”
After Vincent found a suitable parking spot, he helped Nala out of the car, leading her by the hand to the front marble steps. The butler waited at the double doors, already ushering in Joseph and Starling. When Vincent approached, the butler bowed again, showing them to the far side of the grand foyer.
Nala felt like she was walking into a five-star hotel as opposed to someone’s home. Here came those open spaces again. How can people stand to live like this? She liked intimacy. She liked knowing where the walls were and that she could touch the ceiling if she had a ladder. Then again, Xavier Crow was all about showing off what he had.
Four out of five couples were there, minus Crow. A conservatively dressed maid offered Vincent and Nala some champagne, which they accepted graciously. The others were already halfway to tipsy-town.
“Just think, Lane, you could live like this sometime soon!” Lucian clapped his hand on Vincent’s shoulder, almost knocking the champagne glass out of his hand.
“I’m fine with my loft for now. It’s more my style.”
“I know what you mean! But, well, I’ve got a little woman who likes the finer things. You’re lucky. Yours seems like she’ll do whatever you desire. I know Robin loves her.”
I’m right here, you know. Robin also wasn’t that far away, although she was deep in a flippant conversation with Quail about shoe sales.
“If I may say,” Lucian continued, addressing Nala. “You are very beautiful tonight, Gale. A woman who can pull off a corset like that is one in a million.” He winked with the eye out of Vincent’s view. Nala took a small step back, clutching tight to Vincent’s arm. Okay then. Robin had mentioned something about Lucian thinking she was good looking enough to swing with. Not tonight, buddy.
“Thank you,” she said, nodding her head in appreciation. Nightingale was a thankful woman. She loved receiving compliments, especially if it would elevate her Master’s status.
Lucian wandered away after that, leaving Nala with Vincent. “This is already a crazy party,” she muttered into his bent head. “Try to keep that guy’s hands off me, if you would.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice. Remember, you belong to me tonight.” His hand went to the small of her back. Nala sucked in her breath. This was a far cry from the guy who tenderly held and caressed her last night. Nala had woken up to Vincent curled protectively around her, cloudy sunlight streaming through the nearby window and lighting up his sleeping face. He had looked so peaceful, so easygoing that Nala had to fight the urge to kiss him awake.
Now he was clutching her ass, reminding her that deep down this guy was a stone-cold Dom who liked to tie her up and call her dirty things. Good thing Nightingale was into it.
The butler returned to the front doors to welcome Jay and Maggie. Nala steeled herself. This was her first time seeing Maggie since their encounter in the women’s restroom in a fancy restaurant. The one where she all but threatened poor, confused Nala. Did she threaten me? With a woman as tight-lipped as Maggie, it was difficult to tell.
“How lovely to see you two so soon,” Maggie greeted, standing in front of Nala and sipping her champagne. Jay came up behind and put a light hand on her shoulder. It’s not the same as the other men. These two played at being a Dom/sub couple, but the more she got to know them, the more Nala realized something was incredibly amiss. They make me nervous. She wondered if she made them nervous too, and they were better at not showing it.
“Lovely to see you too,” Vincent said, managing to sound amicable. “You look particularly lovely this evening, Maggie.”
She batted her long eyelashes as her lips wrapped around the edge of her glass. “You’re such a gentleman, Master Lane. Almost as much of one as my Jay here.”
Were all of these conversations going to be so boring and yet strange? Nala was almost grateful that Xavier Crow finally made his appearance at the top of the stairs to invite everyone up. Almost! Because he had a familiar guest with him.
Hawk. Wearing a feathery mask and carrying a cat o’ nine tails at her hip. She too wore a corset, a leopard print one, paired with fishnet stockings that didn’t do much to cover her tanned legs. The way she looked at the gathering felt like a tiger overlooking a herd of gazelle.
Everywhere Nala turned, there was someone setting out to make her feel uncomfortable. First it was Lucian’s subtle sexual advances, then it was Maggie’s veiled threats, and now Hawk was about to make her the most uncomfortable of all. Crow might be too busy to keep track of what his guests were doing or thinking… especially as he got drunker and his pants started filling out. Hawk? She had gained her name for a reason. She was watching them all like a bird of prey.
Nala and Vincent brought up the rear going upstairs. Nala made sure to cling to Vincent’s arm, knowing he was the only man she could trust in this place. This place wasn’t anywhere close to being neutral. Every door was guarded by Crow’s men. Every window watched. Every woman? Leered at like meat.
Nala was used to that last part. Even as they entered a spacious salon stocked with plenty of liquor and a small stage for “demonstrations.” I hope we’re not expected to perform tonight. Nala couldn’t handle being bound or spanked in Crow’s place of residence. It was bad enough that she and Vincent would have to go into a bedroom and pretend to have sex. Or really have sex. She was Nightingale. If Vincent decided the time had come…
In the end, she wasn’t surprised when they were expected to sit and watch one of two demonstrations that night. The first was Quail and Sebastian, her subservience unparallel even for that group. Anything he told her to do, she did, including disrobing half his clothes – and then her own. Nala was getting used to this environment, but it still unnerved her to see such displays acted out right in front of her and other people. How can she do that comfortably in front of Crow? Nala could never. It was bad enough when Vincent tied her up for artistic purposes. To be degraded, verbally and physically? No way. Doesn’t help she looks like the happiest woman in the world. Nala appreciated the rougher forms of loving Vincent provided, but this was on a different plane of existence.
The second show was not much easier to handle. Hawk was formally introduced as Crow’s “old friend,” a dominatrix who stopped by town every few weeks for business. What kind of business? Wait, Nala didn’t actually want to know.
She was the guest demonstration that week, calling upon Starling to be her volunteer. Nala wondered if this was arranged beforehand, or if she had barely been not called up. I would have to find a way to avoid that. She would have to!
Nala thought that over and over once the demonstration was under away. Why wasn’t she surprised that it was spanking? Not any type of spanking, either. This was purely about erotic pleasure, since Hawk and Starling did not know each other and thus had no other kind of relationship. It wasn’t like watching a Dom spank his long-time sub. No tenderness. No blooming love for one another. Even naïve Nala was learning the difference now.
“Ow!” The sound echoed in the room in tandem with the smack on Starling’s bare ass. Her face was more pain than pleasure. Even Joseph uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, his easygoing smile disappearing in favor of concern. “I mean… thank you!”
A large red splotch appeared on her skin. Nala shuddered, instinctively taking Vincent’s hand and thanking any god out there that this wasn’t her. I’d kill her. Hawk wouldn’t live long enough to bring down another spank on Nala’s ass. Worth going to jail over.
“You have good resilience,” Hawk said with her grating voice. She patted Starling’s ass, eliciting a hiss through the teeth. “Your Master has done a fine job training you, sweetie, but there is always room for improvement. My subs are used to taking much harder spanks from me. Maybe one day you can join their ranks, hm?”
Starling did an admirable job controlling her reaction. Although Nala could tell the young woman wanted to cry out, maybe say something testy to someone considered a Domme, she didn’t. Instead she expressed more gratitude, thanking Hawk for her kind words and kinder hand. The only “tell” she had was a quick nod to Joseph, keeping him in place on his couch even though he looked ripe to jump up and pluck his girlfriend off the stage.
Yet as everyone assumed that part of the party was over, Hawk raised her paddle and brought it down – hard – on Starling’s other cheek. The girl screamed so loudly that Nala’s seat shook. She grabbed Vincent’s hand with both of hers and tried to hide her face in his shoulder. Even he wasn’t looking directly at the stage.
“This isn’t eroticism,” Nala hissed in his ear. “This is abuse.”
He squeezed her hand back. “I’m glad that isn’t you.” He then stood, excusing himself from the group so he could use the restroom down the hall.
Joseph heaved an audible sigh of relief when Starling was finally released from the stage, walking like a bow-legged fool to her boyfriend’s arms and lying askance on the couch so she wouldn’t have to sit on her bruised ass. She somehow managed to not let any tears fall. Nala had half a mind to go up to the stage and ask Hawk what her fucking problem was, but was afraid of the repercussions.
The only person not frowning – for Maggie looked like she was about to light the place on fire – was Xavier Crow, standing up to applaud both Hawk and Starling as if nothing was amiss. Nala had to remain stiff in her seat so she wouldn’t smack him next.
“I don’t know about the rest of you,” he said, much too jovially, “but I’m starting to feel the mood of the evening. Why don’t we retire?”
Usually the “mood” was a lot less sinister than this. Nala could tell that most of the other couples – especially Joseph and Starling – were interested in doing anything but retiring to a bedroom and leaving the door open.
“Yes, indeed,” Hawk reiterated. She raised a glass of champagne. “Here’s to everyone having a fine time tonight.”
Everyone, including Nala, raised their glasses and chimed that they hoped to have fun too. Where is Vincent? Granted, it hadn’t been long since he went to the bathroom, but Nala wasn’t comfortable being in the middle of this foray without her “Master” to protect her. Lucian winked at her again as he led a giggly Robin out of the salon. Maggie flashed her a stern look as she and Jay left the room as well. The only person Nala willingly made eye contact with was Starling, who put on a brave face and tried to walk as if her ass wasn’t in serious pain. Joseph led her carefully, their low voices discussing what they should do that night. “Don’t touch me down there, please,” was all Nala heard on Starling’s end.
Soon she was left alone with Crow and Hawk, two of her least favorite people. When Xavier saw her sitting alone, he came over, sending nauseous chills down Nala’s spine.
“Why, Nightingale, it appears that your Master is not back from his sojourn. You can stay here and wait for him, if you want, but my butler will also show you to your assigned room.”
When she saw the way both he and Hawk leered at her, Nala was fast to get on her feet. “I’ll wait for him in our room,” she said, channeling her inner Nightingale so she would think of nothing but Vincent and his hands all over her. Don’t actually get horny though. “I have to, um, get ready.”
Wrong thing to say. Both Hawk and Crow looked at her as if she were suddenly a piece of food on a sampler plate. Run, girl! The last thing she wanted was for Hawk to make her the next anal victim while Crow watched. Where the fuck was Vincent?
The butler saved her by offering to escort her down the hall. Nala went immediately, following the spry old man and downing the last of her champagne. She hoped there was more alcohol in the room. She needed it.
Nala went in and instantly tried to close the door as the butler walked away. However, she found out that the door did not close all the way, let alone latch. Making sure the open door policy remains in effect. Nala looked around the room, searching for cameras. She didn’t doubt there were some in there, but did they have sound?
I guess this means Vincent and I really have to do something. Maybe she could get him to bind her to the bed with more artistic, elaborate designs. No actual sex, but by now people might start thinking they both got off on it. They don’t have to know the truth. The truth that Nala kinda did get off on it…
She sat on the edge of the bed, out of sight from the door. Nala opened her satchel and checked the contents. Makeup. Wallet. Notebook and cell phones. The spare key Vincent gave her to his loft. Everything was still there. She wasn’t sure why she was so worried. Who would have had the chance to steal from her so far?
“You here?”
Vincent’s voice wafted into the room. Nala stood, alert, her satchel plopping to the bed behind her. “I’m in here. Hurry up before that crazy lady comes and breaks my ass too.”
He did enter, also trying to get the door to close behind him. Once he realized it didn’t, he turned around with a huff. “You okay?”
“Barely. Wasn’t that awful?’
Vincent sat next to her on the bed, readjusting the buttons on his jacket. “It wasn’t pleasant. Definitely not arousing.”
“Blech.” Nala squished her legs together for emphasis. “Did you have fun in the bathroom? Thanks for getting up and leaving me there with that mess. I was almost afraid they would pick me next for mandatory volunteerism.”
“I didn’t go to the bathroom. That’s what I told them.”
“Then…?”
He leaned in, champagne-laden breath touching Nala’s ear. “I went looking for Crow’s office. I found it. Only a few doors down from here. Looks like a standard lock, which is low-key for a man of his standing. Here.” Vincent plucked a pin from Nala’s hair. It happened to be the pin holding some of her hair back, so now it fell, obscuring her face and making it difficult to see Vincent right next to her. “I’m sure there are cameras in there, but if it’s like any other watched room, they probably focus on the center. Stick to the sides.”
“If I’m caught?” Nala held her pin between her fingers.
“Tell them you got lost and thought that was the salon.”
“Wow. Nobody is going to believe that.”
“I don’t know what else to tell you, Nala. This is one of our only chances. You want to go find evidence or not?”
When Nala fantasized about this moment, she always imagined her busting down the door and seeing a file folder on Crow’s desk labeled, “People I Had Killed.” This was different. It was real, and it wasn’t anything like her fantasy. Not the fantasy where Nala Nazarov was like those hot Russian spies every man her age thought she should be. Not even the fantasy where the Nightingale in her head could get her way with a bat of the eyelashes. What would happen if Hawk caught me? Crow would surely start making the rounds later, looking for couples to spy on as they did their thing.
“I want to go. I’ll be quick. I even brought these.” She pulled out the final items of her satchel – two leather gloves she picked up on her earlier shopping spree. “When I get back, Nightingale wants a kiss.”
“Do a good job and not get caught, and she might get more than a kiss.”
Nala sat back. “What are you saying?”
“You know what I mean.” Vincent affectionately pulled her hair back from her face, letting his hand cup one of her cheeks. “I don’t want you to get caught… not just because it would incriminate me too, but because I don’t want you in too much danger. I don’t want you in any danger, to tell you the truth, but it can’t be avoided. Do a good job and get out of there. Use the camera on your phone to take pictures of evidence, if you find any, and if you don’t… well, we tried.”
Nala was a fool if she thought she could revel in this moment. Vincent, concerned for her safety but still willing to let her go out and do what she set out to do. Vincent, touching her as if she were the most precious thing in his life. What if I am? Nala couldn’t dwell on that. She needed to leave now.
She kissed Vincent, her head turning so she could taste the whole of his lips. He froze beneath her touch before gradually lifting his hand and stroking the side of her head. He really does care about me. This man with his guarded heart, his inability to let go and move on… he was graciously accepting her tender kiss and not expecting anything more in the moment.
Nala didn’t want to break away from him. She wished they were back in his loft, where she could take her time exploring this moment between them. Don’t fall in love. That was the most dangerous thing that Nala could not afford to do. Falling in love with Vincent was more dangerous than attempting to break into Xavier Crow’s office.
As Nala was about to end their kiss, however, the bedroom door flung open and admitted two of the least – okay, most – likely people.
No, it wasn’t Crow and Hawk, thank God, but it wasn’t much better. Because how did one react to two supposed friends stumbling in, tipsy off their asses, and declaring it was “group fun time?”
Both Nala and Vincent stared before them, still wrapped in each other’s arms. Good thing, too, because Robin was halfway to falling over already. Lucian wasn’t faring much better himself.
Oh my God.