Taboo (Penthouse Pleasures Book 1) Read online

  Taboo

  Penthouse Pleasures, Book 1

  Jayne Rylon

  Opal Carew

  Avery Aster

  Happy Endings Publishing

  Copyright © 2017 by Jayne Rylon

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means—including email, file-sharing groups, and peer-to-peer programs—without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  If you have purchased a copy of this ebook, thank you. I greatly appreciate knowing you would never illegally share your copy of this book. This is the polite way of me saying don’t be a thieving asshole, please and thank you!

  If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Refer to the don’t-be-a-thieving-asshole section above for clarification. :)

  Cover Art by Arijana Karčić

  Editing by Mackenzie Walton

  eBook & Print Formatting by Jayne Rylon

  Version 2

  Ebook ISBN: 978-1-941785-80-5

  Print ISBN: 978-1-941785-81-2

  Contents

  About The Book

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  More Penthouse Pleasures

  Excerpt from Daddy

  Want More Steamy Menage Romances?

  Naughty News

  What Was Your Favorite Part?

  Jayne’s Shop

  Listen Up!

  About the Authors

  Also by Jayne Rylon

  One luxury building holds six penthouse apartments owned by kinky Manhattanites. Their sizzling stories will be told throughout the Penthouse Pleasures series from New York Times bestselling authors Opal Carew, Jayne Rylon, and Avery Aster.

  From trailer trash to elite New York City lawyer, Casey Clark has transformed her life. There’s only one change she regrets. The one that left her blazing her trail alone.

  Her tough ex-boyfriend Jace West has made a career of protecting people in bad situations, just like he always did for her. When Casey finds something in her new penthouse apartment that could put her in danger, he’s the first one to volunteer to keep her body safe—even if it puts their hearts at risk again.

  Jace counts on his partner Ian to chaperone his alone time with Casey. Instead, it seems the guy balances out Jace’s rough edges with a suave sophistication Casey always craved. The combination has the potential to fill the void in her life that money, power, and ambition can’t…if she’s bold enough to take what she wants from each of them.

  Venturing into taboo territory, Casey could become the woman Jace has always needed. The kind who’s enough for not just one super sexy man, but two of them.

  Additional Information

  Sign up for the Naughty News for contests, release updates, news, appearance information, sneak peek excerpts, reading-themed apparel deals, and more. www.jaynerylon.com/newsletter

  Shop for autographed books, reading-themed apparel, goodies, and more www.jaynerylon.com/shop

  A complete list of Jayne’s books can be found at www.jaynerylon.com/books

  1

  “Congratulations, you’re officially the newest resident of Beekman Place. Welcome home, Ms. Clark.” The cheery front desk manager plopped a set of golden keys in Casey’s palm. Okay, so they probably weren’t really gold, but gold-toned and shiny as fuck. They gleamed like everything else in the fancy lobby.

  Major goal achieved. Hashtag success.

  Casey officially lived in one of the most prestigious neighborhoods in Manhattan. Take that, humble beginnings.

  After thanking the manager, she twirled her new keys around her index finger, careful not to mess up her perfect manicure as she headed for the private elevator that led to the penthouse apartments on the highest floor of the iconic building. The ride straight to the top in the polished car seemed surreal.

  The woman reflected in the mirrors—with her stylish blonde hair, perfect makeup, and designer suit—was a far cry from the bedraggled white trash girl Casey had been before she’d known better. Only her wide, bright blue eyes seemed the same to her.

  Could this really be her life?

  Damn straight it was. Just because she’d grown up in a trailer park on the outskirts of some Podunk upstate town didn’t mean she didn’t belong here. After all, she’d spent the past twenty years busting her ass to make up for that inauspicious start.

  She’d sacrificed everything for this.

  Casey swallowed hard as she thought of her mom. Lorna had drank herself to death before Casey could afford the fees for a fancy rehab facility. Not that her mother would have agreed to go anyway. Then there was the one guy she’d pictured herself spending the rest of her life with.

  She scrunched her eyes closed until the unwanted ghosts of loved ones lost dissolved.

  A cheery bing announced her arrival at the top. Casey exited the elevator and crossed the wide hallway to her penthouse’s door.

  She aligned her freshly cut key with the lock. This was it. The moment she fulfilled the promise to her younger self about where she’d live when she grew up—a home without wheels, someplace classy. An apartment where she didn’t have to lie awake at night wondering if one of the neighbors would bust through her window and hurt her. Or worse, if her own mother would sell her to them for a six-pack.

  Her fingers shook as she slid it home and shoved open the door.

  Head high, shoulders back, she marched inside the penthouse apartment.

  Her penthouse apartment.

  Sure, she’d only been able to afford it because the previous owner had vanished along with his long-overdue mortgage payments. The bank had been eager to cut her a deal on the place. Nobody had to know that, though.

  Could that be why her victory seemed so hollow? Because it wasn’t quite what it appeared?

  Fuck that. It was still a huge accomplishment.

  She hated the part of her that would never be satisfied, the side that constantly struggled to prove she was better than her roots. The piece that was a slave to ambition.

  It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with growing up in a trailer park. Not in and of itself. It was the specific bottom-of-the-barrel neighborhood and the defeatist mentality that her mother had reveled in that had been the problem. Casey couldn’t stand the thought of succumbing to those innate tendencies. There had been plenty of times when she’d felt like giving up, slinking home, and learning to settle for something simple. Easy. A comfortable existence with the boy she’d fled from.

  No. She refused to give in to the weakness she’d inherited.

  Feet spread wide in five-inch spike heels, hands on hips, and shoulders back, Casey tossed her mane over her shoulder. She admired the city laid out before her like it was her domain. Hers for the taking. Except she’d already conquered it.

  She’d graduated Columbia Law School in the top one percent of her class before a major venture capital firm recruited her to join their team as a corporate lawyer specializing in mergers and acquisitions. So far she’d been instrumental in seven takeovers and had even earned shares of the businesses she’d helped take over. Just last month, she’d been promoted to the head of her department when her mentor had reti
red.

  It would have been easier to climb the outside of the sleek skyscraper she now called home. At times she felt like she’d clung to the path upward by her fingernails. But it had been worth it.

  It was one of those moments—the defining sort—in a woman’s life. Or it should have been.

  Instead, Casey stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring out onto the city far below her while wondering how she fit in. From way up here, everything seemed so distant, separate from the heights she’d struggled to elevate herself to.

  Had she taken things too far?

  Maybe there was more to life than work, promotions to more stressful positions, and ever-increasing bonuses. A fancy car, expensive meals at world-class restaurants, and even a luxurious penthouse apartment didn’t mean as much if there wasn’t anyone around to share her success with.

  She wished her mom was here to see it, even if she would’ve been too drunk to understand the momentousness of the occasion.

  A companion of the sexy male variety to share it with would be nice, too.

  Casey promised herself she’d build an online dating profile and at least take a peek at a few eligible bachelors as soon as she’d finished unpacking and settling in. It could be fun to focus on finding a partner who could enjoy the perks of her newfound lifestyle. Someone to cheer her on and be proud of her accomplishments. Someone she could do the same for.

  Otherwise, what was the point of having all this?

  Getting laid couldn’t hurt either. It’d been far too long since she’d had a decent orgasm provided by an actual man instead of a battery-operated boyfriend.

  There she went thinking about the guy she’d left behind. Sure, he’d been gruff and immature, wild and crass. He’d also been gorgeous, and fucked like no one she’d been with since.

  Casey rubbed her palm over her stomach, trying to squash out the emptiness there.

  She nearly convinced herself it was simply hunger. After she’d finished devouring delivery from the top sushi joint in the city and the emptiness lingered, she knew it was something a lot harder to fix.

  Well, shitcakes.

  2

  Casey set the last of her law books onto the mahogany built-ins of her home office, then stood back to evaluate her handiwork. Something about a third of the way down the shelf at knee-level seemed off. Her OCD tendencies kicked in. She knelt to rearrange knickknacks from her overseas travels when her knuckles caught on a ridge she hadn’t noticed before.

  Her hand jerked. She knocked over a goldfish figurine she’d picked up in the jade market in Hong Kong a few years ago when she’d done an independent study there on international law.

  Shit! It hadn’t been very expensive, but it was priceless to her. It reminded her of how aggressively she’d educated herself—eradicating her ignorance about the world and all the possibilities it held both through formal schooling and by seeking out new life experiences—after fleeing from home.

  It also reminded her of the young badass who’d once shown her a glimpse of his softer side when he won her a fish at the county fair. He’d also helped her repair a cracked aquarium that had been sitting in an abandoned lot they walked past on the way to school, and rummaged an air pump from a garage sale so her pet was taken care of. Though it wasn’t a kitten or a puppy like she’d dreamed of, it had kept her company and given her someone to talk to on the nights she found herself alone, afraid her mother might not make it home after last call.

  The stony fish bounced off the inside edge of the bookcase then clattered to the shelf, seemingly unharmed. Whew!

  When she reached in to right it and check for chips, a panel in the back of the bookcase popped out. “What the—”

  Casey pried it open. Behind the secret section was a steel door, complete with a dial and a handle.

  A safe.

  That made sense, she supposed. Anyone who could afford to live here would likely have valuables to secure. Even she had a few nice pieces of jewelry she wouldn’t mind tucking away, and she was almost certainly the riffraff in this neighborhood.

  She’d tried not to let the mystery of the previous owner’s disappearance color her feelings about the penthouse apartment she’d snagged at auction. Other people had obviously been turned off by the potential bad luck that could befall someone living in a place a man had disappeared from. It was the only thing that could explain how she’d practically stolen this apartment.

  With a shrug, she tugged on the handle. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t budge.

  Casey took out her cell and tapped the contact for Everly Wright, the building manager.

  The chipper woman answered in less than three seconds. “Good morning, Ms. Clark. How can I help you?”

  “Hey, Everly. I was wondering if you have the combination to the safe in my library. Is there some default code I need to enter before I can reset it?”

  “Oh. Um. No. I mean, I double-checked the files before you moved in, when I was compiling the folder of reference information.” The usually unflustered woman hesitated. “There is no record of a safe we installed in that apartment. It must have been added by the previous owner after closing.”

  Casey had probably read a few too many battered Nancy Drew books from the mobile library van that had been the highlight of her summer days as a kid. In addition to sparking her interest in the law and discovering the truth, they had instilled her with an obsession with puzzling situations that piqued her curiosity now. Besides, her contract on this place had included a few unusual terms due to the absent previous owner. For example, she’d agreed to accept everything in the apartment as part of the transaction.

  Of course, that had saved the bank some money cleaning the place out, and had spared her the hassle of buying new furniture. What if there was something valuable in the safe? Or a clue as to where the preceding resident had wound up?

  It would rightfully belong to her.

  This was even better than taking a box of junk on Antiques Roadshow and finding out you’d been living with a Fabergé egg in the attic. Kind of.

  “Could you put me in touch with the locksmith you use for the building?” Casey asked.

  “Absolutely.” Everly chuckled then. “I hope you don’t mind me saying, I’m dying to know what’s in there.”

  “You and me both.” Casey grinned. “I’ll keep you in the loop. Or you can come up with the locksmith if you’d like to see for yourself.”

  “If you don’t mind, I think I will.”

  “Maybe I should make some popcorn. I don’t have any beer or wine here yet.” And never will, she added silently. “But I’ve got some pretty fabulous herbal teas if you’d like a cup while we wait. It’s the most excitement I’m likely to have this weekend.”

  “You and me both,” Everly grumbled, then cleared her throat, attempting to maintain her cloak of professionalism. “Thank you, but I need to finish some things here in the office. I’ll buzz you when the locksmith arrives, Ms. Clark.”

  Casey hoped she could start her transformation from a woman on a professional mission to someone who knew how to make friends with Everly and socialize again. She could relate to the woman, who was young and driven, obviously working her ass off to climb the hospitality ladder. Maybe they could go out for dinner or to a yoga class or catch a show sometime.

  “Please, just call me Casey. Offer the guy double if he hustles, would you?”

  “You got it. Thanks.” Everly disconnected.

  Casey ran her fingers over the sealed safe. Sometimes things were better left uncracked. If you knew what was inside them, it might not be what you had hoped for.

  She’d learned that lesson the hard way.

  For the third time in a single day, she thought of Jason West. Sometimes she went months without him crossing her mind. Others times, like now, she fixated on what he would think of the woman she’d become.

  Would he approve? Or would he despise the new, stronger, independent version of the girl he’d tried to shelter from the world
, including his own secrets?

  It’d be unfair of him to judge, considering how much of himself he’d hidden from her. While pretending to be the romantic guy who won his girlfriend a goldfish, all along he’d been concealing his deepest desires. Taboo lusts that had simultaneously freaked her the fuck out and made her curious when she’d heard rumors of what he really liked.

  After a lifetime of being known as the daughter of the town drunk, Casey hadn’t been willing to risk another label. One a lot more damning, which would give the gossips enough ammunition to take down her fledgling career.

  Besides that, he’d shattered her trust. He’d been the only person she leaned on with no reservations. Yet when she’d confronted him about what she’d heard, he had neither confirmed nor denied it. He hadn’t come clean with her. She could see it in his eyes.

  His betrayal had ripped her open. It hurt worse than the perpetual disappointment she’d suffered with her mom. At least she expected that.

  So she’d run.

  And he’d let her go.

  Casey shook her head and concentrated on what had to be done next. It was how she’d survived those first indescribably painful months on her own and all the years that followed. If she was having trouble maintaining her edge lately, it was only because she’d checked so many of her goals off her list. Here she was, at the top and floundering.

  She needed to sit down and map out what she wanted to strive for next to keep her thoughts from wandering to unproductive places. Soon. As soon as she found out what was lurking behind her bookcase.