Chapter 1

One

Magnolia

T he Golden Key Society is a place where fantasies come to life. The heady scent of sex and lustful indulgences lend the night an aura of the forbidden. The second you walk into the room, you feel it. And when you’re a virgin like myself, the pulsating energy is unlike anything else available outside this setting.

Any other day I would indulge in the hit of adrenaline to my libido and find a quiet moment alone in my office. But tonight has to go off without a hitch and that rides on my shoulders as manager.

It hurts to always be the wallflower, but it’s nothing new to me. It’s been this way since I can remember and that’s fine. Like always the bridesmaid and never the bride, I’ll always be the organizer and never the participant.

At least I am damn good at what I do.

I step through a curtain of red roses sprayed in gold to find a fairy-tale land behind the floral wall.

I stick to the far wall, blending into the shadows. I shouldn’t be here. I already checked over my masterpiece, but I just had to see the dancers perform.

My heart gives a small quiver when a masked woman passes in front of me. It’s not her bare body that catches my attention. It’s how her Dom parades her beauty in front of the other men that has my breath hitching. He’s proud of her and it is shown in the way he holds his shoulders pinned back and the hint of arrogance at the corners of his mouth.

I look beyond them to see the four large chandeliers line the center of the ballroom. They are dimmed low as I instructed. Luscious golden light bathes the opulent open space to create a sensual vibe to play off the accents of gold throughout the ballroom.

Tonight is solely about pleasure. By participating in tonight’s event, the unspoken rule is every inhibition and boundary is forfeited.

For the next eight hours only two rules govern this part of the Golden Key Society.

The first is you must never remove your mask.

Anonymity is where inhibitions are set free and I want everyone here tonight to live their wildest fantasies without fear. It’s through them I live vicariously so I want every member here to experience everything I never will.

But it is the second rule that holds the most power—under no circumstance is anyone allowed to offer their name or ask. What happens here tonight is to never leave this ballroom.

It’s a promise made and kept by all participating members.

Outside of those two rules, anything goes and the members of Seattle’s Golden Key Society are very good at following the rules.

Low thumping music feeds the rhythm of the night and everywhere you look someone reaches their peak.

Toward the center of the large ballroom, elegantly poised women dipped in glitter and wearing nothing more than black masks glide barefoot over the polished marble in a slow, sensual dance. Their fully-aroused partners bend, kiss and direct their women with fluid ease. Before the night is up, all those sweet edible flecks of gold will be on the tongues of the members.

The sight is breathtaking to witness. It took me three months to find professional dancers willing to perform within our set of conditions, but the visual treat is worth all the extra late nights it took to organize.

Masked members recline on overly-large settees positioned along the perimeter of the ballroom. We didn’t bother with tables. Why when the usual hors d’oeuvres and champagne are not on the menu tonight.

A petite redhead in particular catches my eye. The way she has five men twice her size in bow ties and nothing else tending to her every desire is a woman’s dream come true. If they are a Society member that is.

I pay little attention to the men. It’s her expression of bliss that captivates me. It is the way she indulges in the feel of their hands and tongues teasing and caressing over every inch of her exposed body without the fear of judgment.

A ripple of envy moves through me, but no matter how jealous I am they are impossibly intoxicating to watch.

“You’re too beautiful to hide in the shadows.”

My heart rate spikes. I draw in a sudden breath of surprise.

Electricity skates over my senses. It is like ice on overly-heated skin. I can’t describe it any other way.

And then the mystery man’s scent replaces the millions of red roses filling the ballroom.

Warm, exotic, and raw male. “Please tell me, beautiful, that you are unspoken for.” I shift my body to find an elegant man a couple of paces away from me. My brows pull together when I find his dark, captivating gaze with mine.

“My night would be in ruins if you tell me some lucky son-of-a-bitch has already claimed you. You can lie to me. I won’t mind. Just tell me the ring on your finger is for decoration and I’ll take you at your word.”

Entranced by the smooth flow and dip of his words, I stand there and blink up at the stranger. Neatly-combed hair, no beard. The white mask hides everything else. Expensive taste in clothing. Sexy. Rugged yet refined, too.

His body heat brushes against the boundaries of my personal space. He’s close, but not enough to make me nervous.

Heat creeps into my face. For a second I feel a wave of embarrassment at the blush hitting my cheeks. But one look at the man tells me he likes what he sees.

I know exactly what this is and I’m an utter fool for not shutting him down the second he called me beautiful. If that isn’t an overused one-liner I don’t know what is.

But my body betrays me and the rush of adrenaline spiking my blood causes my nipples to harden into tight peaks. And he notices.

Past trauma makes me want to throw my arms over my chest and hide my arousal.

It’s wrong to seek pleasure with anyone else. Only Daddy can touch you. When it’s time.

I shove at those long-ago tormented memories as they plague my thoughts. Bile rises in my throat. It never fails and I’ve come to expect the queasiness latching onto my insides.

Without warning, the masked stranger presses a finger beneath my chin, and I’m instantly lifted from the past. “What man has put that pain in your eyes, beautiful? Tell me and he’ll pay before the sun rises.” My masked stranger’s voice is low, serious, and catches me off guard. Who is this man?

My hands tremble. “Excuse me?”

He moves in and though I know I should back away I do nothing but take in the feel of his body heat mingling with mine.

“Who hurt you?” he restates, this time with genuine emotion attached to his words. Like he would pull out a gun right this second and put a bullet into anyone I pointed to.

“No one here,” I rush to say. “Besides, I don’t think you want that story. Tonight is about pleasure not pain.”

“If that is true, then why are you hiding in the shadows?”

Because it’s where I belong, my mind answers for me.

“I’ve grown used to it. It’s become second nature, really.” My voice holds steady while my insides shake to the core.

He leans in dangerously close.

“You don’t know true pleasure until it’s mixed with the right amount of pain. Let me be the one to show you,” he says so sweetly I want to fall into the pool of honey dripping from his words. He takes my face between his roughened palms and steals my breath away with the fierceness of how he claims my mouth. I don’t get a chance to say no or stop this before it can get started. This man is like a steamroller and I kind of like how he takes charge. I can psychoanalyze the hell out of that some other time. Right now, his mouth feels nice and so what if I steal a little moment for myself? There are no cameras on this side of the ballroom.

His hands find my hips. He angles his body in front of mine and blocks me from view. I’m not a damsel in distress or one who likes to play weak. I’m strong and badass, damn it. But this man… Lord, save me. He makes me want to hand all my control over to him.

Digging deep, I pull on my reserve of courage and let it pour through my veins like an elixir. Something tells me this man is never denied a single thing he wants.

We’re both panting heavily when he breaks away a fraction, his touch keeping me anchored to him.

He tastes of expensive scotch and forbidden desires.

My entire rule-based world tilts on its axis when I drag my eyes off his lips and let them slowly adjust to take in the rest of his face. The man who fills my vision steals my breath away. Thick dark locks frame a handsome face. Or what I can see of it. His jawline is clean-shaven. Angular. Perfect. He towers over me and with him he brings an aura of power only a sinner carries.

He lifts a hand and settles a warm palm over my cheek.

“You look stunning with that red tinge to your cheeks.”

One finger at a time, I wrap my hand around the one on my face. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

The hand still holding me on the hip comes up, and he catches a wisp of my hair between his fingers. He rubs the ends of my wayward curl before tucking it behind my ear.

I forget to breathe. But when I fill my lungs, it’s his scent that I draw in.

“The quiver I hear in your voice and the fear sparkling in your pretty eyes are crimes someone needs to be punished for.”

Dark eyes caress a hot line over my shoulder before dipping to follow the delicate line of my gown. The brush of his gaze on my skin sends an illicit flush running through me to pour hot liquid between my thighs.

“Do you usually go around playing the saving knight to perceived damsels in distress?”

His lips peel back to show a captivating smile that throws off the aura of lethal power emanating from him. “When the need arises.”

“And what would you do to protect said damsel?” Flirting is far from a skill set I possess, but talking with this stranger grows easier by the minute.

He smirks, a rueful grin lighting his handsome features.

“You tell me your secrets and I’ll answer that honestly.”

“Clever.”

“It’s beautiful and fitting for such a delicate creature.”

He’s referencing the tattoo on my shoulder. “Thank you.” The energy between us ramps up and tingles along my exposed skin.

I draw my gaze up and then a little higher to meet his. He stands a good half a foot higher, so I have to raise my chin for us to make eye contact.

“May I?” My stranger takes out a black silk handkerchief from his breast pocket and gestures toward something on my right shoulder.

I drop my gaze to see what he means. “Oh. Yes, please.” I tilt my head to the side and watch as he reaches for the large flower of my namesake draped over my shoulder. Glitter has fallen on the delicate lines and when he cleans off the shiny flakes, I notice the tattoos inked above his first knuckles. Roman numerals in thick black, bold lines. More ink covers the back of his hands and I suspect the length of his arms. In the low level of light, I can’t see much beyond hints of roses and thorns.

Calluses brush over skin. My thighs clench. Intentional or not, when his skin connects with mine I’m forced into biting the inside of my lip to keep from groaning. What would he think of me blatantly asking him to take me to his room? I can blame it on all the sighs and moans of the members wreaking havoc on my libido and it would be true, but I’m not one-night stand material.

What are you doing, Magnolia? I never flirt with the members, but this one is making it impossible to walk away.

He moves in closer, his wide body blocking the dance floor from view. My world narrows down to only him. “Are you one of the dancers?” he asks as he brushes the edible glitter from my shoulder. I must have gotten some on me while I gave final instructions to the performers this evening and he’s taking great care to clean me of every speck.

“Not quite,” I offer and leave it at that. I am not about to reveal I am part of the staff. As long as I keep my mask on, he’ll never suspect. He’s dressed in a three-piece suit that costs months of my salary. I don’t think I could take being shunned if he were to find out I am not a member.

Not prepared for the onslaught of bad ideas running through my head, I take the square cloth when he finishes in order to keep my hands busy.

“Thank you. I...I’m friends with a couple of the dancers. I wished them luck earlier. The glitter gets on everything with the slightest of touches.”

A corner of his lip tilts up. He takes my hand and I slip my palm over his. I watch in the darkness as this complete stranger places a warm kiss on each of my knuckles. “You have more on your chin, here.”

His mouth finds the soft slope of my jawline. Warm lips press against my flushed skin. I shudder in a breath and take in the new experience. My hand comes up to caress the line of his mask. How easy would it be to peel it back and see the man underneath? Learn his true identity. And then what? It wouldn’t change anything.

“Hmm, sugar on sugar.” He flicks his tongue out, barely grazing my skin. “Should I look for more glitter?”

Shocks of uncertainty run through me. Fuck yes. Burning waves of arousal fill every part of my body. His scent surrounds me. I don’t dare breathe in too deeply or I’ll lose the last bit of resistance I have in me. “I think you got all of it.”

His chuckle is a low rumble. Small talk isn’t my forte, and it shows in my next question. I look at his suit and the rest of the ballroom. “Do you feel a little overly dressed for the evening’s event?”

He must think I’m an idiot, but he’s too much of a gentleman to say anything.

His smile is slow, sexy as fuck, and has my insides quivering. For one night I wish I could forget who I am.

“You’re Daddy’s little girl.”

“No more than you do, I’m sure. I’m not here for public shows of affection. I’m more of a private person, as are my friends. What we do is enjoyed behind closed doors, Miss…?”

“No names, remember?”

“I do,” he draws out in a husky tone dripping with sex appeal.

I take a shaky breath and open my mouth. “You said we? Where are your friends?” Why do I care? There I go again playing Russian roulette. I keep pulling the trigger and I’m going to end up on the losing end of this game. As in I’ll get fired and be on the street before sun up.

Mr. Dark Eyes’ smile is made of pure wickedness. He could pull me into his arms right now and I would follow him to any of the rooms. I’ll have to change my panties the second I find it in me to excuse myself.

“Making their way toward us right now.”

He gestures to the opposite side of the ballroom. Two men in similar suits cut a path through the members. They are gorgeous, have shoulders made of granite even from this distance, and the one with the midnight-black braid down the middle of his head is interesting. They don’t take time to enjoy the sight of the dancers or other members. Their focus lasers in on their friend.

I turn back to the stranger at my side. I need to step away. And yet…

I tilt my head and lean in a little, so we don’t have to raise our voices to be heard. I shouldn’t do this. Nor should I place my hand on his chest for balance, but it’s dark, and no one is paying attention to me. My brain plays a dangerous game of what if and I give it a little rope, hoping I don’t end up hanging myself. I have no business entertaining a member, but a little harmless flirting before I excuse myself can’t hurt. It can help fuel my fantasies for when I’m alone in my apartment tonight.

Eyes black as coal caress over the slope of my exposed neck. “I have no desire to seek pleasure in front of a crowd. What I do happens behind closed doors.” He traces the edge of my neckline. “I have a feeling you would prefer the same. Will you join us?”

My heart clenches along with the rest of me.

Yes! Yes! I want to know what it feels like to have multiple men pleasure me. To be obsessed with me for just a single night.

Heat flows through my body, stopping at each point of pleasure before moving on. I draw in a shallow breath and let it out slowly.

His gravelly voice sends a thrill racing through me. Hidden behind my mask, I feel emboldened and I’m not one to waste an opportunity often. I lick my lips and raise my lashes until my eyes are level with his.

Thick, dark locks of hair glide through my fingers as I pull him impossibly close. The man is already invading my space enough to where I feel his heart rate matching mine beat for beat. The bulge in his pants throbs against my hip.

He circles my waist with a powerful arm. I mold myself against his front, feeling every inch of his hard body with mine.

God help me. This man feels savage. Like unfiltered lust when his lips dip to brush over mine. And when he takes a woman every ounce of his energy must feel raw and exhilarating to experience.

He’s gentle at first but the second his tongue dances over mine, he takes it deeper. Harder. There’s no denying something sparks between us in that second. He presses me against the glass wall behind us. Its cool surface is a stark contrast to the heat pouring off his massive body. My pulse matches the deep thumping tempo of the music. Around us the crowd of members have fallen into a lust-filled haze. I want to say it’s because of our surroundings that I’m so freaking horny, but the truth is more blunt. I’ve wanted to know a man’s touch long before tonight.

I feel the moment his two friends join us. Their energy is dark and powerful.

Before I lose all my good sense, I break contact and step away. Difficult when all three of them take up so much space. My foot falters and the one with the sexy braid reaches out and takes my elbow. Nothing too intrusive and I want to cry. Why can’t they just take the choice away from me and ravish me like wolves?

My gaze roams over our sole connection. The inked black roses covering his hand stands out against the backdrop of tanned skin. He moves his touch and takes my small hand in his larger one, raising it to his lips. Holding my gaze in the low light, he places a kiss atop each knuckle just like his friend did.

I wonder what those lips would feel like wrapped around my nipples?

“Don’t rush off on account of us.”

The man’s voice is smooth as smoke over dark wood.

I swear I’m broken somewhere inside because I would give him my virginity with a simple crook of his finger. My heart pounds. I nervously look between them, my body buzzing with anticipation.

“Thank you for catching me.” I glance up briefly to find the third man considering me beneath his black mask. His hands are at his side. Low lighting keeps his features a mystery, but his eyes tell me I could easily become this man’s prey.

The air in the room pulses through me. It would be so easy to let them take me away and fall into a fantasy. But the sight of a gold mask weaving through the members tells me my time is up. One of the owners is making his rounds and checking to make sure all members and their guests are accounted for. If he spots me with a member, it’s game over.

“I don’t mean to pull a Cinderella here and run off, but if you’ll excuse me, I must be going.”

My heart squeezes. I’m giving up my one chance at a one-night stand. But I can’t afford to lose my job. It’s the only thing that keeps me safe from him .

The man with the black mask eyes the magnolia inked over my right shoulder. The way he caresses the fine edges is distracting, but I don’t shy away like I normally would. I like his eyes on me.

The stranger holding my hand exhales, giving me an understanding yet sad smile. He slowly releases me, and I step from the heat of their bodies. “As you wish, petals, but know that you are ripping our hearts out. It’s not something my brutish friend said, is it?”

His voice is commanding. Strong. Bold. He gives me a once over—a slow lingering caress of his fierce gaze along my curves before his eyes settle on mine.

“Not at all.”

Petals. I carry the husky endearment and my stolen handkerchief with me as I weave through one empty corridor and then another until the sounds of sex and low thumping music is nothing more than dull noise.

I don’t dare look behind me to see if they follow. I half hope they do. I feel scandalous for the first time in forever.

I step into an alcove where I stored my clipboard and phone so I could blend in with the crowd. I pick both up before continuing on toward the elevators. Notifications roll in when I turn it back on. A few are from different departments checking in about event details. I shoot off a couple answers and stop with my thumb over a missed call.

I recognize the Department of Corrections Victim Services number immediately. I don’t need to listen to the voice message. I knew the day was coming but with all the ball preparations I didn’t realize the man who abused me instead of caring for me is being released from jail so soon. Frankly, I thought I had a bit more time.

I take in a calming breath and release it slowly. He can’t touch me. I’m not a vulnerable teen anymore with no friends. Besides, he does not know where I am.

I take comfort in that and return my thoughts to the evening.

My phone buzzes again, this time with a message from the owner.

Fantastic job with the dancers. Expect a raise, Miss Lafleur.

I cringe inward, knowing I dodged a bullet. Yikes. “Good thing you didn’t catch me in the corner with three key bearers, then.”

Every person who has paid to be a member here carries a golden key of one version or the other inked into their skin, hence the name. They’ve paid handsomely to walk among the elite of society and the simple, yet intricate key tattoo gives them access to different areas of the Society. Nearly any fantasy they wish can come true here with their membership and it’s my job to make sure it happens——if it fits within our rules.

There are secrets about the Gilded Key not everyone is privy to. Key bearers are elite members of society outside these walls, but here their knowledge of the intimate workings of the Gilded Key Society is limited by design. To a key bearer, The Gilded Key Society is simply an opulent sex club.

But to know all the secrets one must be a key master——the highest rank within the Society. They make up the clandestine society within the sex club and hold the real power here in Seattle and our establishment in New Orleans. Empires rise from the depths of the Gilded Key Society. Thrones are built. And lost. Key masters are the ones who decide fates, unlock doors and control realms.

Those are the members of the Gilded Key Society who hold all the power.

And as of a few short months ago, I am among them. I went from being the scared abused girl without a home to someone who has the power to decide the fate of others.

I stroke the pad of my thumb over the key newly etched into the tender flesh of my arm. It was part of the hiring package as the Society’s new manager. One I cherish and value. I was wrong to mingle with the members. I know better and can’t risk my job. Besides, the way they strip key bearers and key masters of their membership is not something I want to experience.

I pause outside a locked area and raise my arm to the code readers. A black light caresses over my key, beneath the delicate flourishes of black and gold ink shines through a secondary level no unassisted human eye can detect.

The lock releases and I push through, letting the door silently close behind me as I push deeper into the Society’s upper offices.

High above Seattle’s city skyline only fantasies and sin exist. And this year I delivered both for our fifth annual Fall masquerade ball in spades. And almost fell victim to its power. I don’t know who those members are, but I am positive I’ve never seen them here before. I would recognize that braid and their eyes. Their aura of power.

They are a sin against my soul waiting to happen. Up here, among the stars, only God and His angels can judge us. For one night out of the year, I pray no otherworldly being glimpses the debauchery taking place so close to heaven or we are all bound for hell.

Should I turn back and return to them? My step falters. My phone rings but I silence it, catching a glimpse of the key on my forearm.

No. I can’t. I can’t risk breaking the rules for a quick roll between the sheets.

My name can never touch the Golden Key Society book in this city. To enter any room, everyone must sign their name into a book stating they are willing participants. The club owners check over the signatures regularly. My boss would personally see me stripped of my key master status if he found out I broke Society rules.

The faint click of my heels against black marble echoes off the glass walls. Warm lights run along the edges of the ceiling and offer a sensual glow to the cool atmosphere.

Doors silently swoosh open and faintly snick closed as I make my way to the bank of elevators far away from temptation.

I’m going to remain a virgin for as long as I work here. But I don’t have a choice. The Golden Key Society has kept me hidden and I would be a fool to jeopardize my safety for a single night of fun.

Warm light clashes with cool blue as an elevator opens.

I step in, set on putting as much distance between me and three bad ideas.

“Evening, Ms. Lafleur.”

I offer a warm smile to a man in his thirties with kind blue eyes and neatly-combed blond hair. He’s in a black suit with gold tassels on his shoulders and a small name tag. “Mr. Carter. Good evening.”

The elevator attendant dips his head in greeting and automatically hits the button for the thirtieth floor of the building for me.

“Another late evening?”

“One more night, yes. But it is another successful year in the bag, Mr. Carter. Maybe I can get some sleep now.”

A moment later, I step off with another cordial, “Have a good evening, Ms. Lafleur.” Doors slide closed, and the attendant leaves me in blissful silence. What seems like an endless lake of liquid onyx extends in front of me. Up here, the warm light of the bottom levels is changed out for a sensual red that plays off whatever mood you’re in. Mine is reluctant acceptance? Anger? Frustration? So damn horny I can’t see straight. Is that an emotion? It’s a state of being, for damn sure.

Fuck. I’m all of the above and more.

I’m tired, too.

To my right I can enter a closed-off part of the club where my office is tucked into the back corner. To my left is where the key masters hole up when they are in town where sex, booze and a safe place to enjoy both are written into the membership contracts. It pays to be filthy rich, for damn sure.

Straight ahead is where the magic happens. I smirk at my thoughts. Magic. I never thought of hooking up with people for sex as magic, but tonight that is what it feels like.

The Golden Key Society inhabits the top six floors of one of the tallest buildings in the city, not including the rooftop. That is a whole other floor of indulgence I don’t need to think about right now. But anyone into exhibitionism thirty stories above ground level should check out the rooftop. It is the place to be seen. One floor for accepting members, another for galas and parties. And four more filled with rooms designed to fulfill fantasies.

I’ve worked here for two years, and I’ve never been inside a single one. And never will.

The corridor in front of me leads to ten rooms on this floor. Behind those black doors, any number of things are taking place right this second.

Freaking lucky souls.

I take a deep breath and turn toward my office. With no one watching me I can finally let my hands shake openly and not have to hide my jittery nerves. I drop my phone and clipboard on my desk. No man—much less three—has ever approached me before. Not and so blatantly want to have sex with me. It’s about as close to doing a line of coke as I’ll ever get.

Feeling light-headed, I loosen my hair and let the upswept twist tumble free. The relief to my scalp is bliss. Next I want to kick off my stilettos and get out of this too-tight dress, but I can’t go that far. Not until the sun is up and the club is closed for the day.

I drop my chin to my chest and rest my forehead against the window looking out over the darkened city.

“I wonder who they will find to replace me?” My breath fogs the window. I draw a heart in the condensation and then drag a ragged line through the middle. The perfect representation of my broken heart and non-existent love life.

“That’s just how your life is, Magnolia.” If I say it to myself enough times, maybe it will sink in.

Until then, I can just hide out in my office like any normal adult.

Late autumn rain washes over the large floor-to-ceiling panes. I press a heated cheek to the cool glass and let it cleanse my palate of everything I can’t have but crave with all my being. But I don’t have the luxury of hiding.

I grab my clipboard and step out of my office. I immediately sense the shift in energy.

I turn. Black meets startled green. I swear I hear a throaty growl. Genuine fear digs into my soul because I know I won’t escape these three a second time.

“Beautiful, what are you doing up here? Have you changed your mind?”