A Sypricon Masters BookDeputy Brigade Manager Rayna Donaghy is convinced she's imperfect. Abandoned and left for dead, Rayna now lives on Sypricon, a frontier planet known for its scarred surface. After a fatal blaze at one of the planet's quarries, Rayna seeks an escape at the landmark BDSM club, Tawse.
Burke, a Dom at the club, is captivated with the woman who has been under his command for the past several months. However, he's finally had enough of her self-loathing and is determined to help Rayna overcome her fears. In the center of the action, Burke lays her bare for all to see in order to show her being perfect is simply a matter of perception.
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~Excerpt~
“Block them out. Focus on me. It’s just the two of us. We’re the only ones who matter.” His voice was steady and relaxed, a sign he recognized her agitated state.
Her throat dry, she had to swallow a few times in order to gain her voice. “I can’t.” She broke protocol by not tacking on his preferred title at the end of the statement, but she blamed her shock at the suddenness of everything. Of the knowledge only moments ago she’d leaned against the wall watching Merc and his submissive.
She had to fight off the panic attack burning her gut because she felt as if hundreds of eyes openly gawked her.
“You just think you can’t only because you haven’t tried. Dig deeper find out what everyone else can see. It’s there. Believe it.”
Lack of oxygen burned her legs as she fought to breathe and Burke lifted his hand to skim it over her clavicle as he walked around her again.
“You should know better. No one is perfect here or even pretends to be. They make no apologies for what they see as the different flavors of life. Black, red, white, or purple—skin color didn’t matter. Race doesn’t matter either because nothing matters. We all step through the front door as equals, regardless.”
The inflection in his voice and his words soothed her, settling the acid violently churning in her stomach. She inhaled slowly, exhaling in order to calm her racing heart. The beat settled and found a normal rhythm again after some effort.
“Good, little one. You’re doing excellent.”
A quiet murmur rose from those in front of her. It wasn’t the reaction she expected. The whispers were muted but loud enough she could still hear them. They held an interesting quality she hadn’t expected—they sounded fascinated in her.
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