Part 22 (2/2)

”Thank you.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. ”Turn back the clock to the days when I was-as the saying goes-young, dumb, and full of come. Trying to get noticed as an artist and as a performer. I was more of a songwriter than a singer, really, but I had to sing them or no one would ever hear them. And besides, singing in clubs was an excellent way to meet s.e.x partners, something I had a keen interest in at the time. Ferrara and her husband courted me. At the time I made no distinction between them wanting me for the record label and wanting me for anything else. Maybe they didn't make a distinction either. Anyway. She's the one who introduced me to the society.”

”Yeah, you told me that.”

”What I didn't tell you was that she insisted I go through six months as a trainee.”

”Really?” The thought of James prancing about half-naked while rich men and women paddled his b.u.m when they felt like it was a shocking thought. ”Did you like it?”

”Not particularly. I liked that I had found this haven of s.e.xuality that was unlike anything I knew of in the rest of the world, and I was at the age when I was game to try anything to do with s.e.x. However, there's no getting around the fact that I am essentially dominant by nature. I didn't get much out of submitting to others or in serving them, except as a kind of acting exercise.

”The one person I was concerned with pleasing, though, was Ferrara, and not merely because she and Huntington were the avenue for a record deal. Her idea of being a loyal wife was that she never had intercourse with anyone except her husband. But that one rule left a lot of leeway. She would blindfold him, put earplugs in his ears and headphones on top of that, and mummify him so the only parts of him that were accessible were his face and his c.o.c.k. She'd have slave girls fluff him with their mouths. And then to arouse herself enough to ride him, she liked to see me dominate other women.” He didn't meet my eyes. Rather than blus.h.i.+ng he looked bloodless, as if telling me this was draining him. Or maybe he was that tired. ”Tell me about the video you saw.”

”Well, there's a girl lying on top of the covers of a bed, wearing a kind of see-through nightgown.”

”Looking rather ready to be ravished?”

”Yeah, now that you mention it. And you, um...” I closed my eyes, trying to sort out the images, which had turned into a jumble in my head. ”First you kind of teased her like you were trying not to wake her up, and then you sort of leaped on her.”

”Was there a struggle?”

”Yes. She fought you, and you choked her and told her to lie still, and then she almost got away, but you pounced on her back and put a gag in her mouth since she was protesting so much. That was all I saw.”

He took my hands in his. ”Your hands are shaking.”

”The way she screamed was pretty convincing.”

”If it's who I think it was, she's a very good actress. Didn't you recognize Vanette?”

I blinked and sat up straight. ”What?”

”Have you ever seen her without makeup and her hair down?”

”No! Are you sure that was her?”

”If it's the scene I remember, yes, it's her. And it took place in one of the bedrooms at the society's club in London.”

I thought back to what it had looked like. ”You know, I was so focused on you and her, I didn't even look at the room. Or really look at her face.” What I remembered, though, certainly didn't contradict the idea.

”I'm certain Vanette would confirm the story if you asked her about it,” he said. ”We were both trainees then. She was developing a specialty in ravishment.”

”Ravishment?”

”For those members who wanted to playact that they were forcing her. Some of them had elaborate scenarios, with bodices to rip from the lady of the house and that sort of thing, while others were just playing at intruder in the night.” He shrugged. ”It was one of her favorite things. She was brilliant. Could cry on cue. I certainly couldn't have played her part.”

I s.h.i.+fted until I was lying against his chest. ”All right. Is that the whole story, then? No more secrets left in the closet?”

”Pretty much. I mean, there are more scenes I could describe, but I think you get the gist. Now, where is that coffee I ordered?” He tightened his arms around me.

”And that was what you were worried about? That I would flip out if I found out how it really was?”

”Well, there is one more thing you should know. The whole reason my recording career has been kept a secret from my mother is because I met Ferrara and did these things for her before she gave me the recording contract.”

”So it really was the 'casting couch' but with the genders reversed?”

”Not really, but you can see how someone could interpret it that way. My mother, I feared, would interpret it as extortion, that these people from the entertainment world had corrupted her son and extorted s.e.xual favors from me in exchange for the contract. I feared she'd try to put a stop to it. I most certainly didn't want that. When you're young and have stars in your eyes...” He shrugged. ”Understand, I didn't feel taken advantage of. I didn't feel preyed upon. It merely seemed a part of the world I was entering. I thought, when I bothered to think at all, that it was cool that this kinky, wild woman was into me. In the beginning, of course, she kept me hooked with a continual thread of teasing that one day she might let me f.u.c.k her. She might as well have put a ring through my nose and led me around by a chain; that's how hooked I was.”

”I can imagine.” He had certainly learned how to apply delayed gratification and withholding to his own advantage. Not that I minded. ”Are you ever going to tell your mother?”

”I plan to tell her about Lord Lightning someday. But not today.” He nuzzled me. ”I imagine I'll tell her about you long before that.”

”Have you not told her yet?”

”Sweetness, the moment I tell her, she will demand to meet you. Let's get past the show and put that all behind us, and then we can fly to London to meet her. Or perhaps she'll be ready for a trip to New York. She does love the city.”

There was a knock at the door. Most likely the coffee. I excused myself to the restroom while James answered the door. I heard the room service cart being wheeled in.

When I came out, the waiter was getting James's signature. He was an older man and his white tuxedo jacket looked a little too small for him. He was holding a hardcover book and James was signing the check using the book as a surface.

”Thank you, sir,” the waiter said, and I suddenly recognized his voice.

”Phil Betancourt?” The man who had stolen my mother's engagement ring and who knew what else was standing there, right in front of me.

”Um. My name's Jose,” he said, and then broke for the door.

Thirteen.

People on the Edge of the Night Betancourt took off like a sprinter. James lunged for him but missed, and then went tearing off down the hallway after him. I wanted to follow right after, but I was worried that we'd get locked out of the room. I went back through my own room and grabbed my key, then hurried down the hall in the direction they'd gone.

I met James coming out of the door behind the elevator lobby that led to the service elevators and laundry. He was shaking his head. ”Lost him. You're certain that was Betancourt?”

”Sure of it. What did he want, though?” We walked back to the room together and went through my room into his again. ”Spying on me? Or you?”

”I'll call Stefan and hotel security. Meanwhile, you should call your mother to be sure there's been no more trouble for her at home.”

”All right.” I went into my room and got dressed while waiting for my mother to pick up the phone. She eventually did.

”Karina! How are you, dearest?”

”Fine, Mom. Are you in the bathroom?” I could hear the echo of the tile.

”I have you on speaker. I'm curling my hair. It's grown out so much and Velvet showed me a great way to do it.”

”Awesome. Hey, has there been any more trouble from your ex?”

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