Lord & Master

By Emma Holly

My name is Mia, and I’m a lucky girl . . .

Billionaire Damien didn’t magically stop being moody just because Jake and I moved in with him. Fortunately, I've devised a strategy. I inherited a share in an exclusive erotic club, and they’re beta testing a role-play game. Surrounded by period detail, members pretend to be Edwardian lords and ladies . . . or stable masters, if they prefer.

By switching up our dynamic, I hope to smooth the snags in our otherwise fabulous ménage. Neither of my lovers has trouble opening his heart to me, but Damien would benefit from exploring his dominant side, and he and Jake could be easier with each other.

That’s my goal anyway. My plan might go up in smoke when Jake and Damien concoct their own scheme for me!

The sequel to Beck & Call

“So good it defies description”—Jean Smith, xtreme-delusions.com

“Spellbinding . . . I cannot say enough good things about this book”—April Symes, Goodreads

“Heart pounding sensuality”—Deb Markanton, Goodreads

• Language: English
• Publisher: Emma Holly
• Release date: Sep 4, 2015
• ISBN: 9780996771801

Emma Holly

Emma Holly is the award winning, USA Today bestselling author of more than forty romantic books featuring billionaires, genies, faeries and just plain extraordinary folks. She loves the hot stuff, both to read and to write!

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Lord & Master: The Billionaires

Emma Holly

Smashwords edition

Copyright 2015 Emma Holly. All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission of the author.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the vendor and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This story is a work of fiction and should be treated as such. It includes sexually explicit content that is only appropriate for adults—and not every adult at that. Those who are offended by more adventurous depictions of sexuality or frank language possibly shouldn’t read it. Literary license has been taken in this book. It is not intended to be a sexual manual. Any resemblance to actual places, events, or persons living or dead is either fictitious or coincidental. That said, the author hopes you enjoy this tale!

Lord & Master: the Billionaires is an approximately 56,000-word novel.

eISBN-13: 978-0-9967718-0-1

Discover other exciting Emma Holly titles at http://www.emmaholly.com

Cover photos: istockphoto.com/CoffeeAndMilk

Lord & Master

My name is Mia Beck, and I’m a lucky girl . . .

BILLIONAIRE Damien Call didn’t magically stop being moody just because Jake and I moved in with him. I’d be discouraged if I hadn’t devised a strategy. I recently inherited a share in an exclusive erotic club, and they’re beta testing a role-play game. Surrounded by period perfect detail, members pretend to be Edwardian lords and ladies . . . or stable masters, if they prefer.

I hope switching up our dynamic will smooth the snags in our otherwise fabulous ménage. Neither of my lovers has trouble opening his heart to me, but I suspect Damien would benefit from exploring his dominant side, and he and Jake could be easier with each other.

That’s my goal anyway. My plan might go up in smoke when Jake and Damien concoct their own scheme for me!

The sequel to Beck & Call

Chapter One

Manhattan, present day

DAMIEN Call didn’t magically stop being moody just because we moved in with him. Though Jake and I tried to be considerate roomies, Damien was the CEO of a multinational corporation—his corporation, actually. His engineering smarts made WorldWide a leader in fast planes, fast cars, and assorted other stuff that went zoom. To put it bluntly, our sexy egghead lover was a Type A control freak.

Trying not to control us probably put a strain on him.

Jake and I worked at a PI firm. I was a secretary with a supercharged memory. Jake was an investigator and former CIA operative. We’d grown close going undercover to dig into Damien. In the process, we’d gotten close to him.

I counted my blessings for that every day. Thanks to my odd brain and my introversion, I’d grown up feeling like a weirdo in my own family. I never dreamed I’d find one awesome man to love, much less two. Both men loving me back was almost too much good luck to fathom.

No ordinary woman could deserve my guys. A saint maybe. Or a really good sinner.

Smiling at that, I let myself into our sixtieth floor penthouse with my palm print and voice code. I’d been on a special mission this evening. The files on the laptop I’d tucked beneath my arm just might hold the key to working out the snags in our otherwise fabulous ménage.

As I stepped into the foyer, the ultramodern glass-roofed residence was silent.

Hello, I called, my voice echoing. It was nearly ten. Even Damien ought to be home from work by now.

Living room, Jake answered.

Damien’s place extended over the whole top floor. Reaching Jake took a little walk. I found his rangy frame sprawled on a stark white couch, one leg up, one leg down, while he read the New York Times on his sleek WorldWide brand phablet. Since moving in with Damien, both our gadget collections had expanded.

Jake looked up briefly and smiled at me. Per usual, the crooked expression triggered my Maltese Falcon fantasies. Hey, doll. You’re home late. How was your meeting with Management?

By Management he meant the two unnamed woman who oversaw Club Diogenes, an exclusive erotic establishment housed in a mansion north of NYC. Management guarded their identity as carefully as they did that of club members. Considering what people got up to there, this was important.

I, a humble secretary, knew who the women were for one reason. A few months ago, on my twenty-third birthday, I inherited a share in the club from my big brother Mike, who’d won it in a poker game. When Mike died five years ago—totally too young—he split the ownership between my boss and me. More than just my employer, Curtis was my friend and stand-in sibling. He and Mike had been the love of each other’s lives. I was glad they’d had each other, though lately I’d been hoping Curtis would stop treating sex as an intellectual pursuit and open his heart again.

None of that was germane to Jake’s question.

The meeting went great, I said. We discussed the new service they want to beta test. I think it has the potential to really add value for members.

I’d answered absently, but Jake seemed to find me funny. You sound like one of Damien’s gung ho VPs.

I guess talking about sex games like something you’d sell at Kmart was amusing. At the moment, I couldn’t muster much humor. Where is Damien?

Jake grimaced. Roof terrace. Puttering with his drones, he says. I haven’t seen him since dinner.

He’s been going off like that more and more. And working overtime. Why ask us to move in if he’s going to avoid us?

I don’t think he’s avoiding us. I think he’s . . . adjusting.

Jake was older than me and better at social interaction. In spite of knowing this, I couldn’t help bursting out with my opinion. If he’s ‘adjusting,’ he’s doing a crap job of it.

Jake’s cough served him as a laugh. That’s the Mia I know and love. Always a straight shooter.

Sorry, I mumbled, aware I was overly frank sometimes.

Jake got up and pulled me into a hug. Don’t be sorry. Damien and I both like knowing where you stand. Plus you’re right. He has been withdrawn lately. I can talk to him about it, if you’d rather not confront him.

I rubbed my face against Jake’s chest, breathing in the warm male scent that never failed to comfort me. Before we dated, smelling him in the office drove me crazy. I’m afraid if I nag, Damien will withdraw more.

He’ll try not to, Jake said reasonably. Damien always tries. And usually gets it right in the end.

I pushed back and looked at him. I might have a different solution, an out of the box idea.

Jake’s expression turned comically wary. Do I want to hear?

I thought he’d like what I was proposing but couldn’t say for certain. Would you be willing to take some vacation days?

Sure. But if you want us to go away, Damien might be a harder sell.

That much I expected. Damien was the quintessential workaholic. Heck, he lived above his headquarters. I’d rather explain my plan to both of you at once. If I get you onboard first, Damien might think we’re ganging up on him.

Jake blinked. O-kay, he said cautiously.

Cautious or not, I knew he’d hear me out. Great! I said, suddenly energized. I’ll run and get Damien.

He wasn’t in the shed where he kept his—mostly—legal lightweight drones. Instead, he was in his favorite brooding spot on the terrace. One Worldwide, the gleaming tower in which we lived, rose from the island of Manhattan’s southern tip. If a person stood on the northern edge of the building, behind the plexi wind barrier, he had a bird’s eye view of the whole city. At night with the lights twinkling, the vista was breathtaking.

It was hard to tell if Damien were admiring it. He’d braced straight-armed against the wall and was pushing into it with his weight, almost like he wanted to topple the barrier. The pose made me think he was frustrated.

It also made me admire his spectacular physique.

Both he and Jake topped six feet, but Damien’s build was substantial—like a very fit offensive lineman versus a soccer player. Golden where Jake was dark, Damien loved sharp clothes, close shaves, and minimalist decor. Though I liked to think I was smart, keeping up with everything he knew was impossible. We did have being oddballs in common. As a kid, he hadn’t fit in with his peers any more than me. In some ways, his good looks made his life harder. When he was seventeen, his twenty-six-year-old high school guidance counselor pressured him into having sex . . . and then she turned stalker. When Damien told his father, hoping to enlist his aid keeping her away, his dad had ended up marrying her.

For more than a dozen years, Janine used her position as his father’s wife to keep up her harassment.

My slightly awkward relationship with my parents was idyllic compared to that.

Telling myself to be patient, I slipped my arms around his waist from behind. Hey, you, I said softly.

Damien stiffened for just a second and then relaxed. He gave my forearms a fond rub. I didn’t hear you come out.

I kissed the center of his back and then released him so he could turn. He smoothed my hair around my face. I loved how gentle he could be, despite the self-imposed isolation he was used to. As bizarre luck would have it, Janine wasn’t the only woman who’d stalked him. Damien had started to believe he was a freak magnet. He’d decided the only way to avoid attracting more was to keep everyone at arm’s length.

You know I love you, right? I began.

Of course, he answered. I love you too.

I have a favor to ask, and it’s kind of a big one.

He stroked my cheek with the backs of two fingers. If it’s in my power, I’d do anything for you.

I broke into a grin that might not have been strategic. Remember you said that when I tell you what it is.

Uh, he hemmed, but he’d already ceded the advantage. Before he could regroup, I took his wrist and tugged him inside.

Sit on the couch with Jake, I said. I need this favor from both of you.

The men sat while I stood in front of them. Though I didn’t like being the center of attention, I knew there was no avoiding it for this.

Are you sure I shouldn’t make popcorn first? Jake joked.

Shush, Damien scolded. Give Mia’s nerves a chance to calm.

He’d probably seen lots of anxious people present ideas to him. Chances were, a few of them had done worse jobs than I was about to.

I blew out my breath and began. I want us to take a LARPing vacation.

LARPing? Jake repeated.

Live Action Role Play, Damien answered. People dress up like characters from games and movies and pretend to be them all day.

I know what it is, Jake said. I just can’t picture you in a Wookiee suit.

Ha-ha, Damien said. I’m sure that isn’t what Mia has in mind.

It isn’t. I twisted my hands together, silently cursing my jitters. "As you know, I had my monthly briefing with Management tonight. They’ve been refurbishing Diogenes House, kitting it out to be more period authentic. A lot of club members like role-playing, and the most popular setting these days is Edwardian—probably on account of Downton Abbey and Highclere.

Management and I were thinking of offering a new service. Members who want to immerse themselves in a historical re-creation can hire full-time staff for longer than just one scene. They can actually play at being a lord or lady . . . or a scullery maid, if that’s what they’re into. Staff have been training—and enjoying it, I hear—but they could use a dress rehearsal.

A beta test, you mean. Damien leaned forward across his knees.

Yes. They’ve recruited a few club members with historical expertise to play butlers and things like that. Some of them will be running their own stories, but Management asked if I’d serve as lady of the house and give them detailed feedback. I said I would if I you two consented to join me.

Exactly how authentic will this be? There won’t be chamber pots, will there? And who’s doing the cooking?

My mouth twitched with amusement. Damien did like his haute cuisine. Pretty authentic but nothing dire. Everybody gets running water. Diogenes regular catering will do the heavy lifting on the food. No Internet, though. No newspapers or media from the modern world. We’ve decided people talking on their smart phones would ruin the fantasy.

Damien’s brow furrowed. I worried the idea of being disconnected might be a deal breaker, but this wasn’t his concern. Are we supposed to improvise in character the whole time?

Not exactly. Prepared for this question, I opened my laptop and set it on the Lucite table in front of them. I know you like things organized, so I drew up a loose outline. It’s an expansion of the Victorian scenario Jake came up with the first time we played at the club with you.

When you pretended to be my wife and I wanted Jake to help pleasure you?

Exactly. I thought that was pretty fun and used it as a starting point. Mind you, these are only suggestions. If you want to change this or that about the story, you should feel free.

All right. Let me look at this. Damien pulled the laptop onto his knees, turning the screen so Jake could see it too.

Watching them read was one of the more nerve-racking things I’d done. Though I meant to let them take in my proposal undisturbed, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. I know the time you have to spend will be limited. Some of the events I’ve suggested can happen in a contracted way. We’d just pretend they take longer.

Mm, Damien said, paging forward in the document. The outline was clear, I thought. I’d avoided making it too detailed to leave room for him and Jake to add their own two cents. Damien read through all of it and sat back. He didn’t speak at first but stared into space, thinking. I struggled not to gnaw my thumbnail. If his executives could stand sitting in the hot seat, so could I.

Finally, Damien blinked. I notice you want Jake and I to play the original couple in this drama, rather than you and him meeting first.

I had my reasons for that, but I thought it might be interesting to switch up our dynamic, I explained.

Damien rubbed his chin. I don’t feel comfortable playing an aristocrat. Maybe that’s silly, but I think I’d rather be an industrialist. Perhaps a railroad tycoon?

That’s fine with me. Management simply wants male and female characters to pretend to head the estate.

To my surprise, Jake objected to my laissez-faire attitude. I don’t think it’s fine. If you’re not a lord, Mia can’t be Lady Call.

Hm, Damien said, as if he also considered this important. I’d definitely enjoying calling her ‘milady’—

—and seeing people curtsey—

—and her laced up under those dresses. Damien nodded to himself. Yes, Mia ought to be an aristocrat. I am concerned about pulling this off myself. I know you and Jake are good actors from when you went undercover to fool me. Mia, in particular, can rely on her memory to help her stay in character.

You wouldn’t have to be perfect, I assured him.

He pulled a face, because naturally the great Damien Call wanted to be perfect at everything—if not on the first try then no more than the third.

Realizing I’d miscalculated, I shot a help me out here look to Jake. He understood it with no trouble.

Research, he said, which was more in the CEO’s wheelhouse. "We can watch that Downton show and Google things. I know how quick you are. You’ll have it down in no time. Anyway, it’s not hard to pretend. Everyone did it as a kid. You just be yourself but in another role."

I don’t know, Damien said. Mia’s storyline is . . . ambitious.

I decided it