The Domville 3 (The Domville #3) Read online

  The Domville 3

  C.J. Fallowfield

  Kindle Edition

  ASIN: B00ZSYA8FK

  Version: E

  Copyright © 2015 C. J. Fallowfield

  All Rights Reserved Worldwide

  Any unauthorised reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations and places or events, are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  I am a British author and write in British English

  Image Copyright © 2015

  Editing by Karen J

  Proofreading by Fallowettes

  Cover Art by Kellie Dennis at Book Cover by Design

  Book content pictures purchased from Dollar Photo Club and iStock

  Foreword

  Written as standalone quick erotic reads, The Domville novellas are told in alternating points of view of the hotel guests and staff.

  My website holds the most comprehensive information about me, as well as my current and up and coming releases, but you can also follow me via my other social media sites.

  Amazon UK

  Amazon USA

  Facebook

  Goodreads

  Twitter

  Wattpad

  Website

  Dedication

  The Domville 3 is dedicated to Michelle Thompson for a whole host of reasons. She’s my chief pimpette, relentless in her devotion to sharing my teasers on so many Facebook book blog sites. She does an amazing job as my PA, sending emails requesting reviews, keeping track of who’s had what and the feedback received, sending out ARC copies of my books when they’ve been edited. She’s also one of my beta readers, reading my first drafts and giving me feedback to help make my books better. In fact she’s my only original beta, having agreed to join me way back when I was writing The Austin Series. I feel an affinity with her as we’ve shared my journey together and she’s helped me to get the recognition I have to date.

  I wanted to dedicate this book to her, not only as a way of a thank you for everything she does for me, but because the story of sudden realisation that the man of your dreams might be right in front of you, reminds me of how she told me she got together with her husband, after knowing each other since they were thirteen.

  You are a selfless, generous, huge hearted lady Michelle. I’m so happy we “met” and hope that one day, soon, we will meet in person, so I can give you the huge hug you deserve. A hug and a book dedication doesn’t actually come close to what you do deserve.

  You’ll never know just how much I appreciate all of your support.

  CJ x

  Chapters

  Foreword

  Dedication

  The History of The Domville

  Mandy Roberts

  The Bar

  The Piano Man

  The Swimming Pool

  Roger Cockburn

  Maid of Honour

  The Signature Suite

  The Morning After

  Moving Forwards

  Next Release

  Newsletter

  Other Titles by C.J. Fallowfield

  The History of The Domville

  Mr. Domville

  The Domville chain of six star hotels is my pride and joy. It took me years of hard grafting to build up to the opening of the flagship hotel in New York, but it set the benchmark for all other hotels. I now had one in every major city in the world. All hotels aspire to offer the level of comfort, service and extra finishing touches that have become standard in my chain.

  Luxury is a word that has become synonymous with The Domville and I intend for it to stay that way. Especially in my Signature suites, the crème de la crème of hotel penthouses, affordable only to the rich and famous. They were protected by bullet proof glass and the interiors adorned with suede and calf leather walls, eighteen carat gold trim, priceless works of art and artefacts. We also only used luxurious 1200 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets, embroidered with 22-carat gold, at $2,400 a sheet. What really set us apart though, were state of the art heat signature cameras, to enable staff to observe and come and go undetected, to clean up and replenish supplies. If only I had normal cameras to capture what really happened in my hotel suites, then I truly would be the richest man in the world.

  My staff are only appointed after a long and vigorous assessment, our customer service has to be second to none and when it comes to our Signature suite guests, nothing is too much trouble. Nothing is impossible.

  As for my guests, well they come from all walks of life, but the one overriding common denominator is money. My guests are people of means. They pay top dollar because they expect the best and that’s what we offer, no exceptions. While my clientele may be financially secure, it goes without saying that their private lives can be somewhat risqué. There’s a well-known saying that most definitely applies to the guests of The Domville, no matter which country they may be staying in.

  No one knows what goes on behind closed doors.

  Mandy Roberts

  I looked around the Signature suite in awe. As a makeup artist for one of the major London production studios, I was used to working in five star hotels, but The Domville, at a six star, just took it to the next level. I’d never been in a lounge so vast. I was positive you could fit my entire flat in here, let alone the dining room, cinema room or the six en-suite bedrooms. It had been all over the news that Nevada 6, the hottest band on the planet right now, had stayed in this suite not long ago. God, the thought of curling up in a bed that Sam Michaels, their lead singer, had slept in, or possibly fucked in, was quite intoxicating. I shook myself out of my daydream state. My sister Lisa needed me. It was the night before her wedding and she’d just confessed that she was having doubts. This was some serious shit on a deadline that we needed to get sorted.

  We each curled up in the corners of two large brown leather sofas, facing each other. Lisa used some fancy iPad type gadget, which controlled virtually everything in the suite, to adjust the blinds and put on some dance music to lighten the mood. I swear if I’d found a button on there that had the toilet clean your arse after you’d just taken a dump, I wouldn’t have been surprised. They’d thought of everything. I mean we even had our own personal butler, Gaston. So not the toned, athletic hottie I’d been hoping for when I’d heard he was waiting up here for us. Definitely not young, fit arm candy. He was more like the candy I found down the side of the sofa, old and covered in bits of hair that you prayed weren’t pubes as you extracted it. I reckoned it was the only area The Domville could improve on. Tailoring the butler to fit the clients in the suite.

  I grabbed one of the sweet, ripe and juicy, chocolate and edible gold leaf encrusted strawberries from my own bowl and sipped at the expensive champagne. Wow. This was the life, I could get used to this. Good on Brady, my future brother-in-law, for going all out to make Lisa happy. Then again, he obviously wasn’t making her happy in bed if she was having wobbles the night before. Eleven years they’d been together, it wasn’t like she hadn’t had time to think, hey, sex with Brady is shit. I had to know more and raised my eyebrows at her, impatiently waiting for her to spill the beans. I mean Brady was gorgeous. Tall, with that drool worthy athletic build, abs to die for, seriously good looking with his dirty blond hair and a pair of hypnotic green eyes. And his lips … I shook my head, trying to forget
the crush I’d had on him when I was a teenager and Lisa first brought him home. God, I’d masturbated thinking about his lips kissing me. And on top of all of that, as if that weren’t enough, he was intelligent, well off and so polite and considerate. Totally unlike his best friend Roger, or Rampant Roger as he was known to everyone. He had a mouth as dirty as a toilet and was legendary for shagging around. Christ, I must have been off my face when we hooked up at Lisa and Brady’s wedding rehearsal dinner last week. But damn, he had skills. I choked on my champagne, not concentrating properly on swallowing, as I thought back to that crazy night that was wrong on so many levels. It was Roger.

  ‘Ok?’ Lisa called, looking concerned.

  ‘Yep, great,’ I coughed, patting my chest.

  ‘You looked somewhere else for a moment.’

  ‘I’m back,’ I nodded. So back, Roger was one mistake I wouldn’t be making again, so thinking about that night was seriously off limits. ‘Ok, enough with the stalling. I want details.’

  ‘Ok, but no judging,’ she warned with a pointed finger. I choked a number of times during her exposé, hardly able to comprehend what she was telling me. My sister, my goody two shoes sister and perfect Brady, had agreed on a free pass to fuck one other person before their wedding day. Having met as virgins, neither had experienced anyone else. Brady had cashed in his card, Lisa hadn’t. She was still in shock as she’d only found out last night.

  ‘I’m going to fucking kill him!’ I hissed. I hadn’t felt this mad in a long time. ‘He cheated on you, Lisa.’

  ‘It’s not cheating when you’ve given your consent,’ she repeated, like that would make me feel better about him hurting my sister. ‘But yes, I’m pissed that he did it so close to the wedding. It’s barely given me time to process it. I’d also have liked the chance to decide if it was something I ought to do.’

  ‘No decision to be made,’ I scoffed. ‘You’re supposed to be getting married in less than twenty-four hours, we’ve got to get you laid before you put on that bloody dress and decide you’re going to put up with shit sex for life.’

  ‘It’s not all shit,’ she protested. ‘I love kissing him, he makes me come with oral and fingering, it’s just the actual act it’s so …’ she broke off and frowned as she tried to formulate the perfect words. ‘Lacklustre and … boring.’

  ‘I really didn’t see that coming,’ I sighed, shaking my head as I tried to process it. ‘I mean he’s hot. Great looking, amazing body, intelligent. You’d think he’d have clued up by watching porn or something.’

  ‘Not his style,’ she shrugged. ‘Anyway, I’m not going out to try and pull the first guy I see, just to get back at him.’

  ‘You’re not getting back at him, you’re simply taking advantage of a deal that was made for both of you and making one-hundred percent sure that you really want to marry the guy,’ I reminded her. I was suddenly struck with a brainwave. ‘I could ring that escort one of the girls at work used, she raved about him, what was his name … Logan, that was it, Logan Steele. Apparently she couldn’t walk for two days after and said she’d never come so many times.’

  ‘You know, Brady mentioned that. But if he’s that good, Mandy, he’s not exactly going to be available on a few hours’ notice. Besides, that’s just setting Brady and I up for failure. Sleeping with a guy who’s at the top of his game, how many men would compare to that?’

  ‘I’d love to find out, if I had the money to book him,’ I nodded eagerly, biting my bottom lip at the thought. His reputation really was amazing. ‘Damn it, I’m horny now. All this talk of hot musicians and escorts. We’re going down to that bar tonight and we’re going to score ourselves a couple of guys to bring back to the suite. Then you can decide what to do tomorrow,’ I stated firmly, stuffing another strawberry in my mouth. Lisa just sighed and finished her champagne as confusion raged on her face. I went to get another drink and when I returned she’d disappeared.

  ‘Get dressed sexily, we’re going out to get you laid,’ I ordered, poking my head into her en-suite, staring in amazement as she stood there with her toothbrush in her hand, getting ready for bed.

  ‘Mandy,’ she moaned, pulling a frown. ‘That’s not the answer.’

  ‘So, what? You’re really going to walk up the aisle tomorrow and never come during sex, ever?’ I raised my eyebrows as I waited for her to respond, confusion all over her face.

  ‘We can work on it. We can become more spontaneous and try new things,’ she replied, not sounding totally convinced. I sure wasn’t.

  ‘If it hasn’t happened in eleven years, I really don’t see things changing now,’ I retorted. ‘You’ll always be resentful if you marry him and never got to experience it with someone else.’

  ‘Mandy,’ she sighed.

  ‘Fine. Whatever. But I’m telling you that you’re making a massive mistake and I, for one, will be flying the “I told you so” banner proudly when it all goes tits up,’ I muttered. I stormed out and slammed the door behind me. She was making a huge mistake by not trying someone else. God if I’d stuck with the guy who took my virginity, I’d never have experienced a single orgasm, other than by my own hand. I plonked myself on the bed, folding my arms across my chest in frustration. If legal advice was needed I’d trust my sister, no questions asked. Sex I was skilled in, yet she was ignoring my suggestions. This was something I knew better than her. She was making a massive mistake by not listening to me. I looked around as my bedroom door opened, framing her in it.

  ‘Get dressed before I change my mind. We’re going down to the bar,’ she advised with conviction.

  ‘I have just the dress for you to wear,’ I grinned, speeding to the wardrobe. ‘Go and get your makeup done, I’ll bring it to you when I’m done.

  I made the most of my luxurious en-suite as I got ready. The powerful rain shower and massage jets were sensational, the towels were so soft and fluffy I was tempted to wear one to go out. I sat at the dressing table area and applied my makeup. Being a makeup artist I had it down to a fine art and it hardly took me any time at all. I made sure my dark, straight hair was sleek and shining and clipped in some art deco chandelier earrings, spraying a touch of my favourite perfume, Chanel Allure, behind each ear and a dab on the inside of each wrist. I eyed up my outfits. I’d brought three evening outfits with me, one for the wedding party night and a choice of two for tonight, just in case we went out for a drink. Thank God for forward planning. I decided on my classic little black dress, as we were heading down to the Champagne bar in the hotel. With the drinks prices I’d seen on the Spa menu and drinks list, you had to be loaded to come here for a night out. I slipped my feet into a pair of my highest designer black heels. Shoes were a complete weakness of mine and where most of my money went each month. I was only five foot five, Lisa was five foot nine. She’d got all the good genes. Super intelligent, tall, curvaceous with great tits. I sighed as I looked down at my petite body. My breasts were smaller, my backside not as voluptuous, but I had amazing legs which looked even better in my heels. I grabbed my spare dress and a pair of high heeled cage shoes and headed over to the master suite to see if Lisa was nearly ready.

  ‘Come in,’ she called, in response to my knock on her door. She was sitting on the edge of the bed holding up a dress that would do nothing to show off her amazing figure, but she’d made an effort with her hair and makeup. There was no doubting we were sisters when you looked at our faces. Same brown eyes, slightly upturned nose, full lips and our expresso dark brown hair.

  ‘Wow, you look so pretty with your eye liner flicked out like that,’ I smiled.

  ‘Thanks, well it helps to have an amazing makeup artist as a sister, who passes on all of her tips.’ She gave me a wink as she eyed up the items in her hands, then looked up at me and cocked a surprised brow.

  ‘Your dress is Lisa professional lawyer at work Roberts, not Lisa sexy wanna get laid tonight Roberts,’ I confirmed.

  ‘I never said I wanted to get laid,’ she objected.

&n
bsp; ‘You’re telling me if you lay eyes on a guy who gets your motor revved, has you squirming to scratch that itch, you’re going to say no?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’ve never slept with anyone but Brady, I’ve never really looked at someone else, let alone felt any chemistry with them. I mean Roger hangs around us all the time and does nothing for me, yet women fawn over him constantly.’

  ‘They do?’ I asked, surprised to feel a twinge of jealousy at the thought of it.

  ‘He’s a good looking guy, women look at him like they’d chew off their right arm to be with him, but you …’ she broke off and shook her head.

  ‘Me what?’ I scowled.

  ‘The two of you constantly spar with each other, the chemistry is obvious and yet you seem determined to steer as far clear from him as possible. I don’t get it?’

  ‘He’s a player,’ I shrugged. ‘And I’m not looking to settle down, not for a few years anyway.’

  ‘You’re a player,’ she reminded me, getting the full force of my narrowed eyed glare. She held her hands up in surrender. ‘Just saying, not judging. It’s made you very happy over the years, but it’s time you thought about going steady with someone. You have no idea how wonderful it is to have someone who’s there for you after a hard day’s work. Someone to hold hands with, snuggle and kiss. To hold your hair back while you’re being sick. Relationships can be wonderful things, sex isn’t everything.’

  ‘Says the woman who’s not getting great sex. I’d rather have an orgasm than all that thanks! Stop stalling, you’re wearing this dress and these heels. You’ll be fighting men off with a stick.’ I handed them over, amidst a load of protests and had to help her to do up the zip. Her curves filled out the dress far better than mine did. When she stood up, she grabbed my arm as she wobbled in her heels. ‘I thought you wore heels to work, with your power suits?’ I laughed.