CUT THE CARDS by Desiree Holt

CUT THE CARDS by Desiree Holt

Club Fantasy Series

Kelly Leblanc had played with the top Doms at Club Fantasy. The private dungeon had truly lived up to its name for her, making all her sexual dreams come true. But one look at Tanner Sloat and she knew she hadn’t even scratched the surface. Especially when he introduced his new game, Cut he Cards. Learning that she would be performing with him before the crowd was the sexual icing on the cake. But then the game began and she discovered a whole new level of eroticism and satisfaction.

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Excerpt 1

But with all the women he’d met, all the partners he’d had, none had ever been a punch to the gut like Kelly LeBlanc. He wanted to see her naked on her knees, hands behind her back, his cock in her mouth. Maybe with a plug in her butt and a vibrator keeping her right on the edge of orgasm. He might have a lot of self control, but there was a hard edge to his desired methods of play. He hoped Kelly was ready for it, because after only one look, he certainly was. He shifted the fabric of his leather pants to ease the pressure on his swollen cock.

“Ready?” he prompted. If she licked her lip one more time he was going to open his pants and thrust his cock into that tempting mouth.

She looked up at him. Whatever she saw in his eyes made her bow her head, cut the cards, and begin to lay them out.

He’d seen them all, of course. This was a game that worked for him whenever he was a guest at a new club, or breaking in a new sub. It gave both parties a sense of what the other would tolerate, would want, would eventually crave. He watched through narrowed eyes as she discarded some cards, placed others to the side. Interesting that she kept the picture of the St. Andrews Cross, the single tail whip, the electric violet wand, and the rider fucking ball. She paused at the three pictures of butt plugs, discarded two, and kept the medium sized one.

Oh, yeah. He wanted that plug in her ass while she rode the inflated ball with the dildo in her cunt. Blindfolded. Hands cuffed behind her back so her balance was unsteady. Shit! He was getting hot just thinking about it. His cock hardened, his balls tingled and the blood in his veins flowed in a heated rush. Her scent drifting up to his nostrils aroused him even more. He bet the juice of her pussy tasted like the finest nectar. Shit, his tongue tingled just at the thought of it.

She shuffled through another few cards, kept the one with the paddle on it and the one with the spreader bar. She hesitated at one and he leaned down to get a closer look.

Excerpt 2

At this point in her life it took a lot to steal Kelly’s breath away, but the man with Reulas managed to do it in an instant. He wasn’t as tall as most of the men she played with, probably not more than five ten, which suited her petite frame just fine. But it was a well-defined, sexually sizzling five foot ten. His body was muscular, not gym-conditioned, but that of a man who did some kind of hard labor for a living. Midnight black hair hung in a thick curtain of silk just to his shoulders and matching hair dusted the hard wall of his chest. His eyes were an unusual pale grey, fringed with thick black lashes, silver beacons in a square-jawed face with high cheekbones.

He exuded raw power, masculinity, and sex. Every muscle in Kelly’s body tightened, cream flooded the tiny crotch of her thong and her nipples hardened, poking into the soft material of her halter. An image flashed through her mind of this man naked, standing before her, his cock in her mouth while she sucked on it hungrily. Would his shaft be large? Of course. Her eyes dropped involuntarily to his crotch, where the soft leather of his pants did little to hide a significant bulge. She was instantly wet and needy and he hadn’t even said hello to her yet.

When she looked up at him a tiny knowing smile flirted with the corners of his mouth and sexual hunger flared in his eyes. Tanner raked his gaze over her slowly, taking in every inch of her. Now she knew what the phrase “undressing someone with his eyes” meant, because that was exactly how she felt. At that moment, if he’d told her to strip naked, get down on her hands and knees, and let him fuck her ass she’d have done it without a moment’s hesitation.

Holy shit!

She swallowed and curved her mouth in a smile. “Welcome to Club Fantasy.”

He dipped his head once. “I can see you’re everything Reulas said you were.”

And exactly what was that?

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NOBODY'S PERFECT by Kallypso Master

NOBODY'S PERFECT by Kallypso Masters


Rescue Me Book 3

Savannah Gentry, now Savi Baker, escaped the abuse, torture, and degradation forced upon her by a sadistic father for eleven years and has made a safe life for herself and her daughter. When her father threatens her peace of mind--and her daughter's safety--Savi runs to Damian Orlando for protection. Eight years earlier, young Savannah shared one perfect day with Damian that changed both their young lives and resulted in a secret she can no longer hide. But being with Damian reawakens repressed memories and feelings she does want to keep hidden--buried. At Damian's private Masters at Arms Club, she discovers that sexual healing might be achieved through BDSM (Bondage, Dominance/submission, sadomasochism)—specifically SM administered by a loving Service Top named Damian.

Damian, a wounded warrior, has had his own dragons to fight in life, but has never forgotten Savannah. He will lay down his life to protect Savi and her daughter, but doesn't believe he can offer more than that. She deserves a whole man, something he can never be after a firefight in Iraq. Damian also has turned to SM to regain control of his life and emotions and fulfills the role of Service Top to "bottoms" in the club in need of catharsis by whipping or other SM practices he is skilled at delivering. But he could never deliver that level of pain to Savi, who needs someone gentle and loving, not the man he has become. But when Savi witnesses a cathartic whipping scene on her first night at the club--delivered by Damian--she begins to wonder if this Damian could also help her regain control of her life and reclaim her sexuality and identity.

CONTENT WARNING: Readers who have a history of past abuse (sexual, physical, and emotional) may be triggered by scenes in this story. Before reading this book, please be aware that it is primarily about an incest survivor dealing with the sexual aftermath of years of abuse. She has dealt with non-sexual issues in years of therapy, but has tamped down anything related to sex. In this story, she struggles to find healing through a trusting, consensual BDSM relationship. If you believe that reading about PTSD flashbacks of incest, whipping for catharsis, mindf**ks, and related topics might be triggering for you, but you still choose to read it, please make sure you only read this book in a safe environment with supportive people available to you.

The BDSM scenes in this book (some of them beginning and advanced sadomasochism techniques) are the result of many conversations with submissives and Dominants who have worked through similar abuse issues using activities in the BDSM community and lifestyle. Therefore, the BDSM is portrayed as healing rather than titillating. If you are looking for the latter only, this might not be an enjoyable read.

But if you want to delve into the roller-coaster journey of a young couple trying to work through intense issues in a compelling story that pulls you into the characters' world and doesn't let you go, then you might find healing and entertainment in this story. The author, also a child-sexual abuse survivor, has found that writing the story has provided catharsis for her, and hopes other survivors who read it will see that they are survivors, too, and no one is ever so wounded she or he can't find love.

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Excerpt:

[NOTE: Italics for internal thoughts and foreign language will not appear in this excerpt]

Prologue

Savi Baker opened her mini laptop to update her résumé and write a cover letter for the "office clerk" position circled in the newspaper classifieds beside her. She'd need to hurry. Marisol's practice for the church children's pageant would be over in an hour or so.

Her years of college and clinicals were irrelevant now. She just needed to find something fast to pay her student loans and keep up the house and car payments. She and Mari had never lived extravagantly, but losing her job last week—three weeks before Christmas—just added to her anxiety.

She'd bought and wrapped some special gifts for Mari and tucked them away on the upper shelf in her closet. At least Christmas would have some special moments, but Savi would be lucky to be able to pay for groceries, much less the expensive ingredients needed for the holiday gifts she liked to bake for her friends.

After working so hard to achieve her goal of being a social worker and helping young abuse victims cope much more easily than she had following her own years of abuse, the loss of her job hit her harder than ever. Another dream lost.

Don't think about Damián Orlando.

She still didn't know why she'd been fired. Her supervisor seemed equally confused, so it couldn't have been because her daughter, Marisol, had been sick with the flu a couple of weeks before that. Everyone at the clinic was supportive of her being a working single mother. Her friend Anita, the woman who worked as the clinic's receptionist and had been the only mother figure Savi had known most of her life, had even stayed home with Mari so that Savi had only missed two days of work.

Her supervisor had encouraged Savi to submit an appeal to the state agency responsible for her termination, which she'd done immediately. Was she fired because of the complaint the clinic had received from the mother of one of her new clients? Mrs. Reynolds accused Savi of being indifferent to her daughter's needs, but Savi and her supervisor had explained to the mother that wasn't the case at all. With the highly charged emotions in situations involving domestic and child abuse, all case workers had to remain professional, objective, and somewhat emotionally distanced. This was especially true for Savi. She couldn't let her own demons from the past come to the surface.

In the end, Mrs. Reynolds had hugged her, sobbing. The mother had claimed she understood, and Savi had thought that was the end of it. Maybe not. Had she gone to the licensing agency to complain?

Oh, what difference did the reason make? She'd been fired. It could take months, or even years, to get reinstated; unraveling bureaucracy took time. She didn't have a huge savings—or time. Her immediate concern was finding a way to support her daughter and herself until she got another job in the mental-health field—if that was even possible.

Absorbed in typing, she jumped when the doorbell chimed. She looked at the time on her screen's desktop. Too early for Mari to be dropped off—unless something had happened. Barely able to breathe, Savi nearly ran to the front door and opened it, expecting to see one of the youth leaders from the church group.

Lyle.

She gasped, nearly choking as bile rose in her throat. Stupid! Why hadn't she glanced through the peephole first? She tried to reverse the movement by slamming the door in his face, but it stopped abruptly against his Italian leather wingtip. Her muscles in her arms quivered as she pushed harder.

"What kind of greeting is that for an old friend, Savannah?"

Enemy. Not a friend. Savi wedged the side of her bare heel against the door to keep him from opening it any further. Her lungs burned as she tried to fill them with much-needed air. Dangerous. He couldn't stay here. He would hurt Mari. She had to get rid of him.

She pulled the door slightly toward her without moving her foot and then tried to slam it with all her strength. He didn't even flinch. "What do you want?"

He smiled at her and relaxed. "Let me inside. We'll talk."

Savi suppressed a shudder. "You're not coming in. Leave before I call the police!"

His eyes narrowed into slits. Fear crawled up Savi's spine for the first time since she escaped this man and her father eight years ago. Vile man. Could she fight him off?

"Open this door, you dirty slut, or you and Marisol will regret this pathetic show of bravery."

Marisol. He knew her name. Did he know where she was? Oh, God, she prayed. Don't let Mari come home early. Where was her father? Had he gone after Mari while Lyle was here with her?

"I'm not letting you inside my—"

Without warning, Lyle rammed his body full force into the door, sending the edge of the wood into Savi's cheek. She hurtled backward until she lay sprawled on the floor, looking up at him. His navy-blue dress pants and wingtip shoes made her shudder as a distant memory tried to smother her efforts to regain her breath, but she tamped it back down. The angry man towered over her.

"Ah, just where a slut like you belongs, Savannah—at my feet." He reached for her. "Let me hear you scream, for old-time's sake, you filthy whore."

No! Memories of the night he'd placed her father's brand on her could never be erased, no matter how many times she'd tried. Neither could any of the degrading things Lyle had subjected her to at her father's orders.

She rolled onto all fours and scrambled to get away, sliding on the waxed floor. Lyle's savage kick slammed into her ribs as his wingtip impacted her left side. The air whooshed from her lungs, and she fought to catch her next breath.

"Your father asked me to bring you and your brat to him. But we're going to enjoy a little playtime first. What your father doesn't know…"

Another blow from his shoe struck her side near the same place. Panic set in as her breathing became more labored. Two more kicks followed in rapid succession. The pain!

Breathe!

Maman, help me. Give me the strength to fight him off. Help me protect Mari.

Savi pulled herself up using the hallway table and tried to inhale again. She turned to find Lyle smirking at her. Bastard. She picked up a wrought-iron candlestick from the table. In one swift motion, she swung it at his head, gouging his forehead. She hoped she'd more than stunned him, but didn't wait for him to recover. She followed up by kneeing him in the groin. He doubled over and fell to the floor moaning as he held his privates. His blood trickled onto her floor.

Not unconscious yet. Cut off the blood flow to the brain.

She'd learned a number of self-defense techniques from a female Marine veteran in a study group at college. Savi cringed as her finger touched his neck, hating to place her hands anywhere on him, but finally she found the point she sought and pressed—hard. She counted. By thirty seconds, Lyle's body grew even more limp.

Escape! Now!

Running to the kitchen, she grabbed her purse and keys and stumbled out the back door. A black BMW sat parked behind her little blue Nissan. She glanced back at her bungalow. Her home, but no longer her safe place.

No sign of Lyle yet, but he wouldn't be unconscious forever. Breathing had become a struggle, but she refused to escape inside her head to that numb place where she could dull the pain. Mari needed her to stay in the moment.

Mari needed her. Period.

She filled her lungs with as much air as she could stand and held her breath. Oh dear lord. Why couldn't she breathe? She pressed her hand to her chest and tucked her elbow against her left side, near where Lyle had kicked her repeatedly. Was something broken?

How had her father and his partner found her after all these years? She'd changed her name, her looks, everything, to keep from being found. No way would she ever let them anywhere near her daughter; they'd never do to Mari any of the things they'd done to her. In some ways, while Lyle had only been her handler, he was more sadistic than her father. Lyle had been the one to place her father's shameful mark on her. He'd enjoyed hearing her scream and often inflicted even more pain than what her father had ordered.

She opened the car door, got behind the steering wheel, and turned the key in the ignition. She couldn't zone out now. She needed to get to San Miguel's…to Mari.

Then what?

The images of Damián in her office comforting Teresa, his niece and her former client, and of him later last month standing over the inert body of the girl's rapist father alternated before her eyes.

No. She couldn't get close to him again. He was dangerous in a totally different way from Lyle and her father—but still, oh, so dangerous.

What other option did she have, though? She could protect herself or die trying, but what if something happened to her and they got their evil hands on Mari? She couldn't risk that.

Mari needed Damián.

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SPURRED TO SUBMISSION by Desiree Holt

SPURRED TO SUBMISSION by Desiree Holt

Rawhide Series

When the death of their fathers brings Zoe Hampton and Wade Cameron back to Big Spur, she hopes for two things—to show the hot shot New York lawyer she’s not a little girl anymore and that the ranch he hates could actually ease the pain of his past. She’s got her work cut out for her on both accounts, and she doesn’t know whether to kick Wade into next week or jump his bones.

Wade hates the ranch almost as much as he hated his father, and the only reason he’s home is to bury one and sell the other. But the old man’s will puts a hitch in Wade’s plans. And Zoe’s lush body and sassy attitude spur the Dom in him to take her over his knee for a spanking they’ll both enjoy. Even finding release at a private BDSM club becomes impossible.…until the night Zoe follows Wade to Rawhide.

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Excerpt:

“Will tells me we’ve got a good crop of calves to brand this year.”

Wade’s voice behind her startled her out of her reverie, and she lost her balance, tumbling into the pen. Before she could get to her feet, he had climbed in beside her and stood looking down at her.

She spit dust from her mouth and glowered at him. “Aren’t you even going to offer to help me up? Or did you just come out here to rub my face in the fate of the ranch again? Make up your mind, Wade. I’m too old to play games and tired of sparring with you.”

“Maybe not my kind of games,” he growled.

He stared down at her then stunned her by lowering his body over hers, his legs bracketing her hips as he knelt in the dirt. His long fingers wrapped around her wrists, holding them down to either side of her head, imprisoning her. His grip was so tight as to be painful, and it shocked her that his aggression gave her pleasure.

Wade bent low over her until his face was only inches away. His eyes darkened to the color of burnt chocolate again, and a muscle ticked in his cheek. He wasn’t as unaffected as he wanted her to think. That kiss yesterday might have been meant to frighten her, just as he was trying to do now, but it was very clear he was affected, too. Probably more than he wanted to acknowledge.

Instead of struggling, Zoe lay on the ground beneath him, waiting to see what he’d do next.

“You know what I’d like to do to you, little girl?” he ground out.

“What?” The word came out in a breathy rush of air. “What would you like to do to me, Wade?”

“Things that would scare the shit out of you.”

He was holding her forcibly in place, apparently unaware she wasn’t attempting to get up. He was holding most of his weight on his knees so he didn’t crush her, but she was essentially completely helpless. His crotch was practically at eye level, and there was no mistaking the prominent bulge. Oh, yeah. He was as hard as she was instantly wet.

“You think so?” She licked her lower lip, seeing the heat flare in his eyes again and knowing she was pulling the tiger’s tail. “You might be surprised.”

He stared at her for so long she wondered if he ever planned to speak or move. Without warning, he rose to his feet, pulling her with him. Imprisoning her wrists with one hand, he swept her over his shoulder and stomped into the barn. He carried her into the tack room and slammed the door shut, sliding the bolt into place to keep it locked.

“Big talker,” he ground out. “Let’s see where that big talk gets you.”

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UNTANGLE ME by S.J. Maylee

UNTANGLE ME by S.J. Maylee

 

Ivy’s revenge on the people behind her family’s downward spiral is simple and it’s working. There’s no need to long for help from the wealthy business owners who turned their backs on her father. Ivy may be worn out, but she’s finding herself again after joining the local BDSM club.

 

 Seth has it all. He has homes around the world and the little red speedster he dreamed of as a little boy, but none of the things he can buy satisfy him, not the socialites hanging on his arm or the submissives falling at his feet. Then, he hires Ivy to plan his next event.

 

Seth and Ivy enjoy each other’s company in and out of the planning stages for Seth’s charity event. Their playful bets lead them to a first date. When their secret kinks are revealed, the pair fall deep, but it’s not meant to last. Past hurts come back to haunt Ivy. Now, it’s time for Seth to use all he’s learned, regardless if he can win back the girl.

 

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Excerpt:

Where was Seth?

Once in the center of the dance floor she turned in a circle, looking every direction.

There.

From the center seat at the bar, Seth’s direct stare held her captive. A new song excited the crowd and cheers surrounded them, but neither of them paid it any attention.

His jacket and tie were gone, giving her a closer look at his all-male body. The top button on his white shirt was undone. She wanted to undo the rest and get a glimpse at what lay underneath. Round shoulders tapered to his waist. She bit her lip as she imagined his length.

He made no move to come to her, his elbow still rested on the bar. He was a man waiting for the world to come to him.

Not the world. Her.

The comfortable confidence and the heat shining in his eyes turned her on. She swayed her hips to the hypnotic beat. Her hands felt their way up her thighs, around her hips, and an inch past her waist, he got up and walked towards her.

In no time, his feet stepped in between hers and together they rocked to the music. The drums and base from the band pushed a rhythm into her body, driving her desire. Their fingers interlaced. She snuggled closer and breathed in his clean musky scent.

She wanted to touch him, but he kept a hold on her hands. He pushed them both behind her, causing her back to arch and her breasts to press deliciously into his hard body. Heat rolled through her. She let her head fall back, exposing her neck.

His lips brushed across her collarbone. They continued to rock back and forth, their hips swaying and rubbing together. He took her wrists in one hand and his other stroked down her neck, over her shoulder, caressed the side of her breast, and around her waist to land on her butt. He squeezed her ass and pressed her into the hard ridge of his cock. She lowered her chin and moaned as she took in his expression filled with raw desire. A slow devilish smile lit his features and sent a tremble through her.

The song ended and another began while they continued their dance. He let go of her hands and she wrapped them around his neck. Both of his hands molded her ass. She nuzzled his neck, taking a nibble and a few kisses as she breathed him in. She wanted more.

Lots more.

She made her way closer to his mouth. Before she stole a kiss, she looked into his eyes. His brown eyes had darkened to the color of night, matching his hair. She sucked on her lower lip.

“You know what you’re doing, right?” he asked.

“I know I want you.”

“The Masters work the back rooms on club nights. But we can stay on the dance floor all night, if you want.”

“You’re talking about the one on one rooms?” She sucked in a breath.

“I don’t think this crowd is prepared to see what I want to do to you.”

“Can we go back there? I want to go back there.” She looked directly into his eyes.

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MASTER MARSHAL by Gray Dixon

MASTER MARSHAL by Gray Dixon

Book 4, Masters of Tabu

A cowboy and a supermodel ignite unbridled passion in the Texas heat.

Shane Marshal struggles to keep his family’s cattle ranch above financial flood waters. With help from friends, he turns the homestead into a BDSM retreat. He can’t keep his mind on business when a single woman from New York with legs to infinity arrives. To tamp down his lustful thoughts, he goes out of his way to give her grief, but she doesn’t flinch. He needs a new strategy.

Valentina Halston, a high fashion model, changed her name from Sharon Berger to hide her past. After finding her boyfriend in delicato with another model, she books a vacation at a dude ranch with BDSM activities in search of change. Rest and relaxation, fresh air, no phones, no paparazzi, and no cheating boyfriend sounded perfect. Instead, she finds more than she could imagine.

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EXCERPT:

He locked onto the area at the end of the aisle, the direction she’d last been seen. Her stubbornness or should he say lack of concern for others’ schedules was rude, disrespectful, and he had a mind to go drag her ass out of the washroom and teach her a lesson.

“You noticed too?”

“Yeah, them city folks. Gotta watch them to keep ‘em outta trouble.”

“Yeah.” Shane blindly stroked Lucky’s mane, staring at the end of the aisle. “I don’t know what her problem is.”

“Her, huh? Take it she didn’t read the fine print.”

“What?” Shane glanced over his shoulder at Jake. Where had his mind wandered? “No, I don’t think she did.”

“With her looks, she’s probably used to having men take care of her. She’s an easy fix. The others are another story. The men outside are acting all macho, and their ladies are giggling little girls, petting the horses like they’re puppy dogs. Ya sure you don’t want me to come along and help, ‘cuz I can tell you’ll have yer hands full with them.”

“Naw, I’m good. If I take anyone, I’ll snatch Ty to come along. I’d rather you stay here and keep an eye on Luck.”

Jake tossed his hat on the hook by the door and ran a hand through gray hair sweat plastered to his head, loosening the normally wild mop. “I really don’t mind, Shane. I’ve gone on the rides with the guests other times. I know which trails to take. Ty’s a good kid, ‘cepten he might get a little too flirty with them pretty girls and get in some trouble, ‘specially the real tall one. She’s a looker. I saw him eyeing her last night.”

Shane’s gut clenched. Ty moving in on Sharon didn’t sit well with him. “I’ll have a talk with him.”

The suspicion on his manager’s face said he didn’t quite buy the half-ass detour for an explanation. Shane knew the familiar look on the old man’s face. He swore Jake could read his mind and knew more was behind him warning Ty off than policy.

“I get yer reasoning with the no associatin’ rule. Somethin’ tells me ya’ve taken a likin’ to her too. Am I right?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s my policy, and I expect everyone to abide by the rules.”

“Lord a mighty, boy. I’d say ya’ve got it bad.” Jake patted Shane on his shoulder. “I knew it. Ya like the pretty girl who could step outta one of them New York City fashion magazines.”

How did the old cuss know anything about fashion magazines? The man lived and breathed cattle and the ranch since his wife died ten years ago. “I don’t have it bad. The only problem I have is she’s messing with my employees and with my schedule. I don’t want trouble. Golden Springs means everything to me.”

Jake leaned against the post of the stall door. “Ya don’t fool me, Shane Marshal. These old eyes of mine aren’t as strong as they used to be, but I ain’t blind to the looks passing between ya two since she got out of the van yesterday. My hearin’ is dang good too. Ya also were mumbling about missin’ supper last night to be out here with Lucky instead of gettin’ to know her. Talk to me, boy. What’s going on in yer head?”

“Nothing.” Shane scrubbed his face with both hands. Shit. Jake called him “boy” and had since he’d been a toddler. He also never put up with his crap, or “nonsense”. Jake managed to run the ranch for him and helped him out when his family died. The old man was his friend and family more than Golden Springs’ manager. When Jake called him by his name and not boy, he was serious. Who was he kidding? He’d used Jake as a sounding board since his first girlfriend in grade school. He’d never been able to talk to his father. Why should now be any different? Shane had to end this conversation and get the trail ride on the road, so to speak, not bear his soul to his old friend.

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SWEETEST SPLENDOR by Kacey Hammell

SWEETEST SPLENDOR by Kacey Hammell 

Club Splendor Book Two

Bridget Guthrie and Zander Hudson have worked at Club Splendor together for years, sharing smoldering glances, flirting, and building a friendship. Thanks to the club’s strict policy of no staff fraternization, they’ve resisted how much they truly want each another.

With Bridget leaving to explore her dreams, they no longer have to hide their passions. After hours, in one of the pleasure rooms at Club Splendor, they finally give in to the burning desire they’ve held at bay for too long. She has taken care of other people’s love lives for so long while at the club, can she find the courage to take care of her own needs and fantasies?

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Excerpt:

“I know following your dreams is important to you, Bridget. I’m happy for you.” Zander sidled closer, and massaged her stiff shoulders.

“Thank you. I know you are. It’s just—” she swallowed past the lump in her throat. “It is hard to think of leaving. I love this job. I’ll miss it.”

“You’ll miss me more though, right?” His light tone lifted her mood.

She laughed. “Of course. Who else will I get to boss around?”

He chuckled and pulled her in to his chest, aligning her against his stomach. Her breath hitched as his arms wrapped around her waist and squeezed her tight. Her nipples tingled and her heart rate accelerated.

Being this close to him, his long body behind her, the dreams she had about a moment like this…. She wished she could turn in his arms, press her lips to his and see where it led. But their friendship meant a lot to her. The fun flirting and teasing had never gone to the next level, but no other man in her life affected her more.

And now they would no longer be working together…but she wasn’t sure how deep his feelings for her ran.

“Damn, you smell good. What is that you’re wearing?” Zander asked, his face buried in her neck.

“Umm, something berry I guess.” Her words sounded breathless even to her own ears. He never held her like this before. She shivered.

“You cold?” He ran his palms over her stomach, then his arms tightened around her.

She shook her head, speechless, about to melt into a puddle at his feet. Relaxing into his embrace, she aligned with his front. “Zander--”

“You know I’ve always wondered something about you,” he murmured.

“What’s that?” she questioned, mouth dry.

“If any of what happens around this place excites you,” he whispered against her neck.

She reclined her head on his shoulder, sighing. Could she confess her innermost thoughts to him?

The air in the room heightened at least twenty degrees. The fire in her belly spread along her limbs to her fingertips. “Why is that important to you?”

Clasping her hands in his, he rasped, “I’ve always had the desire to know what makes you tick. I’ve watched you a long time, secretly wanting to know more about you. Finding reasons to be close to you.”

Excitement slithered along her body, her heart nearly leaping from her chest.

“We’ve been friends a long time, Bridget, but you know what? I want more.” He ran his lips along her neck, warming her skin until they reached her ear. “Tell me what turns you on,” he whispered, then captured her earlobe in his teeth.

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SAVANNAH SECRETS by Cheryl Dragon

SAVANNAH SECRETS by Cheryl Dragon

Sweet Submission Book 1

Raised to be a proper Southern lady, Dawn Trumbell secretly embraced her submissive side but trusted the wrong Dom. The heiress feared exposure when the bdsm club closed for good reason. She walked away from the kinky lifestyle and focused on charitable endeavors. However, there is one man, her high school boyfriend, who might draw her back into submission. She loves and wants to please him—but she won't share him!

Brent Lockwood has always loved the spirited Dawn but played with others when she was taken by another Dom. Now she's free to be his and he'll do everything in his power to possess her body, heart, and soul. He's also determined, with Dawn's help, to create a safe place for bdsm lovers to play. Kinky love may clash with traditional Southern manners but even in modern times, a gentleman always sees to the needs of his lady.

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Excerpt:

She’d wanted him to get away for college and figure himself out instead of going right into business with his dad, uncles and cousins. The grand Lockwood dynasty was in his blood but those years at school helped him figure out the role he wanted for himself. It also taught him to respect what his family had built.

Her being a submissive only strengthened his belief. She was the one. They had a lot of baggage and clutter to sort through but he’d win her. Convince her. Make her beg.

“Fine. I’ll give you the pitch but you can’t say no,” she said.

He studied her pretty face. Not a model, but her freckles had faded and her creamy skin tempted him. He remembered her better than any sub he’d played with. Submissive women got him going, but she still had power over his heart.

“I’ll call you to set it up. Now seriously, are you dating anyone?” He’d be proper in public.

“If I were, you’d know. Cel would know.” She looked down and away.

“Getting crap from the old biddies?” he teased.

“That doesn’t matter. I’m not rushing into anything even if my mother is warning me weekly that turning thirty isn’t too far away. Trusting men isn’t on my list of goals just yet.” She set her glass on a tray and tried to sidestep him.

“I saw Molly here. Is she doing okay?” He could keep her here for the rest of the day with small talk if he wanted. The right tone and posture and she’d give in. He’d missed talking to her.

“She’s fine.”

“It’s kind of you to give her a job. Are you in touch with many of the subs?” he whispered in her ear.

“Call me about the charity meeting. I’ll take your money. Molly is over by the signup sheets if you want to add another sub to your collection. At least she’ll be safe.” She stormed away to the outer hallway.

“Hold on.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her into an alcove. “I’m not the least bit interested in Molly for myself. Not that way. I do care about what happened to everyone. The club closed down and it was sudden. You care too or you wouldn’t be giving her a job.”

“She’s good at decorations. It’s not a charity job. I’m out of that lifestyle, but I’ll help people. Don’t make this hard, Brent. We were a long time ago.” She pressed her lips together.

He saw the struggle in her and he couldn’t give up. “I want the meeting and that dinner. We both have roots and futures here. Savannah is a big city but we’re in the same circles. True?”

“True.” She nodded.

“We need to be allies. Friends at least.” He slid his hand along her neck and leaned in. Before he caught himself, he kissed her and the spark hit him like a flogger sting wrapping around his heart. No one tasted like she did or made him feel that way.

After a few seconds, she pulled back. “Don’t. We can’t go back to high school or undo what Baxter did. We’re adults, and reality is where I need to live.”

He watched her walk back into the ballroom, her lovely ass moving under the dress. Those heels were higher than most and she walked with ease. Everything about her hinted at sexual confidence and she’d need attention eventually. That was as much reality as anything.

If she wasn’t involved with a Dom, and even if she was, Brent had to claim the right sub for him. All the bad things that happened wouldn’t get in his way.

An attack on two fronts was his only hope. He had to unlock her heart and repair the damage the bastard Baxter did while simultaneously seducing her body with discipline and sex. She’d be safe with Brent. Everyone at the club had said she was strictly a sexual sub and didn’t play with anyone but her Dom.

Brent wanted all of her attention and affection, submissive and not. Now he had to do the work to win her.

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SWEETEST SALVATION by Kacey Hammell

SWEETEST SALVATION by Kacey Hammell

After the deaths of her husband and child, tragedies that she blames herself for, Andrea “Andy” Sheaver has shut herself off from the world. The only place she finds any relief from her shattered heart is Club Splendor, where she and her husband often frequented together. There, Andy submits to pleasure and pain in situations so her grief is forgotten for a little while.

But Hunter Sullivan won’t stand idly by and watch Andy self-destruct. A friend of her husband, and the owner of Club Splendor, Hunter has kept his love for Andy hidden for years. He refuses to think of her at the club, cold and detached as she’s become, looking for an easy fix to take away the pain in her heart. Hunter wants her to be vibrant in life again and sets out to prove he is exactly who she needs.  

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Excerpt © Kacey Hammell, 2013

Hunter sighed, which caught Andy’s attention. Her eyes met his briefly before lowering to her hands, which were clenched tight in her lap.
 

“Look, Andy,” he began.
 

“What do you want, Hunter?” Her forest-green-eyed gaze met his. Anger swirled in their depths.

“I’m tired of this. Dammit.” He snarled, rising, and crossed to the fireplace. He ran his fingers through his hair and leaned one arm on the mantel. He looked over at her, stomach churning with indigestion and pain. He’d loved Patrick and Peter too. Could she not understand that she wasn’t the only one suffering?

“Tired of what? I never asked you here.”

“This!” Hunter spread his arms wide. “You. I’m so tired of seeing you locked away in this house, never leaving and pictures gone.”

“Go to hell,” Andy spat and leapt to her feet. She moved behind the loveseat, obvious fury making her hands shake as she laid them on the back of it. “You don’t have any say in how I live. I never asked for your opinion. If you don’t like it, get the hell out of my house. And my life!”

Hunter breathed deep, nostrils flaring. He could no more walk away from her than he could from the Sheavers. She was as much a part of his life, and his heart, as they were.

But his love for her went far beyond sisterly.

He pushed that thought away, buried it deep within himself as he’d done for years. She was Patrick’s girl, his wife. He always honored that.

“Dammit, I don’t want to argue with you, Andy. But you really need to move on. Live life again and leave this house.”

“I leave the house. You don’t know what I do every day.”

“Oh yes, you go out. Like the other night? Why did you go to the club? I thought we agreed you were no longer a member,” Hunter demanded, curious about her answer.

“No. You decided I was no longer a member. Not me. I never said I wanted that. Who are you to make decisions for me?” Andy retorted, cheeks flushed, hands on her hips.

Hunter had to admit he was finally seeing a glimpse of the fiery, strong woman she’d been until this last year. He liked her eyes ablaze, jaw clenched and fury radiating off her body. He just needed to provoke her enough and challenge her to move beyond these walls and back to the things she loved to do.

“I don’t want to make decisions for you.” He took a calming breath. “Listen, the club is not the place for you any longer. Without Patrick… There’s no need for you to be there anymore.”

“Why do you think that?”

“He was the one who wanted to show it to you. He never really thought you’d come to enjoy it as much as you did. Neither of you interacted with others. What can you find there now without him?”

Andy smiled, cold and detached. He hated that smirk.

“Oh, come now. You know what happens in your club. Surely, I don’t have to spell it out for you.”

Goddamn her.

Yes, he knew what she’d done inside the room she’d once used with Patrick. Though he normally didn’t interfere in his members’ activities unless there was a problem, he did ask Paige and Nolan if Andy had simply watched. He’d been shocked, then livid, to learn a few details of what happened between the three of them.

Andy had always been a devoted wife to Patrick, faithful to the core. To know she’d been an active participant at the club for the first time had suddenly left him empty and alone.

But he couldn’t allow his feelings on the matter to distract him from pushing her back into life.

He shrugged. “No. You don’t have to spell it out for me. But is that what you truly want and need in your life?  Sex with strangers? Do you need to find comfort in people who don’t care about you?”

Andy glared at him. “That is none of your business.” Her voice rose as she continued. “What I do in my life is for me to decide. I never asked to have you in my life. Don’t expect me to want you there now.”

His heart clenched. Her words were like a punch to the gut.

Yes, he’d sort of come as a package deal when she’d married Patrick. But the Sheavers were the only family he had. And when Peter was born, oh, he’d played the dutiful uncle to the little boy. Though she’d never voiced her frustration at his being in attendance at nearly all family gatherings or taking up some of Patrick’s time once a week for a guys’ night out, he’d understood the stone-faced woman who left the words unsaid.

“I always promised Patrick I’d look after you if he couldn’t.”

“Fuck off, Hunter. Don’t give me that.” Her hands fisted at her sides. “Look, please just go. I don’t need you here. I have things to do.”

He wouldn’t be so easily dismissed.

“Things to do? Like what, plan your next adventure at the club? I don’t think so. Why? Explain to me why you felt the need to go there?”

Arms wide, she yelled, “I wanted to fuck somebody. Is that what you want to hear? That I wanted to have a cock inside me for the first time in almost two years? I wanted to have a man inside, pounding me—brutal and painful. What better place to do that than at the club where I know I’m safe?”

Hunter’s heartbeat accelerated. To know she needed someone that close to her was agonizing. It was a barren and desperate act of someone who had nothing to live for. Or didn’t think she was worth much.

“Why pain? You couldn’t have found satisfaction in that. No pleasure, Andy? You, of all people, found pleasure in that kind of sex? I don’t believe for a moment that you’re now into rough sex,” Hunter said, gruff. His mouth was dry, and confusion made his head hurt. Would he never understand this woman?

Andy crossed her arms over her chest. She looked out the window behind him. Her gaze was unfocused, filled with pain.

“Yes, pain. It’s what I deserve, isn’t it?” Her gaze captured his. Hunter felt his heart crack at her desolate look.

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CONTROLLING INTEREST by Francesca Hawley

CONTROLLING INTEREST by Francesca Hawley

A book in the 1-800-DOM-help series.

Mozelle “Mouse” Vincent inherits money, a club and her boss’ son as a business partner when society leader Regine Stuart dies. Torin Stuart knows what his late mother’s wishes were for his exclusive BDSM club, Erotically Bound, but he’s pissed that he’s forced to trust Mouse—especially when her inherently submissive nature arouses the sexual Dominant in him.

After baring all in a heated, intense scene, Mouse realizes they still have to work together, but now Tor challenges any business suggestion she makes. When she wants to offer education classes, Tor dares her to organize the class and participate—as a submissive.

To his chagrin, Mouse agrees, but he can’t stand the thought of any other Dom touching her. Suddenly there’s far more at stake than the controlling interest in their club…because love is the ultimate prize in their power exchange.

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By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.
An Excerpt From: CONTROLLING INTEREST
Copyright © FRANCESCA HAWLEY, 2011
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Chapter One

“She did what?” Torin Stuart rose from his chair with a roar.

Mouse was entirely grateful that the lion’s roar was directed at his late mother’s attorney and not at her, but the attorney was unperturbed.

“Your mother left her controlling interest in your club Erotically Bound to Ms. Mozelle Vincent.”

“But Mother knew…”

“Please sit down and allow me to finish reading the will in a proper manner, Mr. Stuart.”

Tor ran his fingers through his bright ginger hair and glared at her briefly before sitting with a growl. Mouse kept her hands tightly around her purse. He’d been really kind in letting her stay in the townhouse his mother had set aside for her use, but with this news, he’d probably toss her out on her ass. Damn it. She thought she was done with being homeless.

“Ms. Vincent, shall I continue?” Mouse nodded. “Very well.” The lawyer cleared his throat. “I leave my controlling interest in the amount of fifty-one percent in the club Erotically Bound to Ms. Mozelle Vincent. In addition, I will her the townhouse and all furnishings thereof in which she has been living for the last five years. The estate will pay property taxes for two years, but then, and I quote ‘you’re on your own’. Do you understand, Ms. Vincent?”

Mouse’s jaw dropped. That townhouse was stunning. Huge and smack in the center of Washington D.C. with a multicar garage. It was located in the historic Capitol Hill district, just blocks from the Capitol building and Pennsylvania Avenue. The place was worth…millions.

“Ms. Vincent, do you understand the terms of the will regarding the townhome?”

“Yes, I own it and Regine’s estate will pay the first two years of property taxes then it’s my responsibility.”

“Precisely.”

“Is that all? Can we discuss my club now?”

The lawyer frowned at Torin over the top of his reading glasses, his bushy white brows extending over the frames. “I have not finished. Please remain silent until I do, sir.”

Tor waved his hand with a sigh and the lawyer nodded. Mouse wanted to laugh at the byplay between the two men, but she was too shocked. What had Regine been thinking?

She had to have had an ulterior motive for doing this, God knew, she always did. Regine Stuart was always three moves ahead of everyone else…a master strategist. That was how she’d managed to be one of D.C. society’s reigning queens. When Regine spoke, everyone listened…even the president.

“Ms. Vincent, please attend.”

Mouse looked up as the lawyer admonished her. “Sorry.” She shrugged.

“Finally, for—and again I quote—surviving six years in my employ as my downtrodden Jill-of-all-trades and for making my final years a pleasure instead of a burden, I will Mozelle Vincent twenty million dollars.”

Ice filled her body before unbearable heat melted her emotions. Her jaw dropped, but she was so utterly shocked she couldn’t move. Then she burst into uncontrollable tears. Throughout most of her life she’d hadn’t had a pot to piss in, but then six years ago she literally tripped over Regine Stuart and her world had completely turned on its head. The lawyer rose and approached her.

“My dear, are you quite all right?” He awkwardly patted her shoulder and she nodded, still trying to cover her abrupt emotional response.

She hated crying. She hated losing control of her emotions. She hid whatever she felt behind a façade of calm, which was something Regine had always valued in her. And it was something they had in common. Even if the world came crashing down around them, both she and Regine could remain calm to pick up the pieces and move forward.
Mouse glanced at Tor, worried that he’d think she was being overly dramatic or that she was getting money she didn’t deserve, but he seemed moved by her emotional display rather than scornful. When she could catch her breath, she cleared her throat.

“Don’t mind me, really. Go on with reading the will.”

“There isn’t too much more.” The lawyer returned to his desk. “To my household staff…”

Mouse stared at her perfectly manicured fingers as the lawyer finished. Those nails were a luxury she’d gotten used to with a steady paycheck and Regine’s insistence that she look polished at all times. God, if she had walked past the Capitol building five minutes earlier or five minutes later six years ago, she and Regine never would have met. Regine had given her a chance when no one else would. Sometimes miracles really did happen.

“This concludes the last will and testament of Regine Stuart.”

“Can we discuss my club now? Please…” Tor growled as he turned to her. “Mouse, how much do you want for it?”

The lawyer held up his hand as the remaining listeners filed out of the room, leaving Mouse alone with the lawyer and Tor.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stuart. Your mother left explicit instructions. Mouse…rather Miss Mozelle is required to hold her interest in the club for a minimum of six months. Under the terms of the will, the two of you are required to work together during that time.”

Tor opened his mouth then closed it again. He stood and began to pace. Broad shoulders, narrow hips and the most amazing ass she’d ever seen. Add a stunning body to his ginger hair and bright blue eyes and he was a package of mischief that made better women than her melt and get silly.

Mouse looked down at her hands out of habit. Ever since she began to work for Regine, she’d quietly had the hots for Tor, but putting that attraction to the test was unthinkable. First, she was sure Regine wouldn’t have been keen on having her assistant flirt with her son. And second, and most important, Torin Stuart had been seen escorting tall, slender and decidedly beautiful super models around town—his lovers had most definitely not been chunky personal assistants with frizzy, flyaway, boring brown hair and dull brown eyes.

“Mouse… Mouse, did you hear me?”

She met Tor’s blue-eyed gaze and felt the blush crawl up her neck. Damn.

“What?”

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “You’ve had a tough six years working for Mother. Just relax for the next six months then I’ll offer you a great price for the interest in the club.”

The lawyer cleared his throat, causing Tor to whip around. “Damn it, Thompson. What the hell is it?”
“Your mother required you to work together to manage the club. If any of the terms of her bequest are violated, the shares will be sold…but not to you.”

“What?”

“If the two of you don’t work together, or if you make an offer for her shares before six months have passed, which she accepts, then the shares will be sold to anyone but you.”

“The shares belong to Mouse. She can sell to whomever she wants.”

“No, I’m afraid not. If she goes against the terms of the will, she loses everything your mother willed to her.”

God, she didn’t want to challenge Tor about this, but she wouldn’t go back to living on the streets.
She just wouldn’t.

She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, Tor. I have to abide by the will.”

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DARK DESIRE by Desiree Holt

DARK DESIRE by Desiree Holt

Tentative Club Fantasy Book Two

Risa Channing found herself stuck at one level in BDSM play and was ready for more. She asked Ruelas, the mysterious owners of Club Fantasy, to pair her with a Dom who would take her to the next level and beyond, but she got more than she expected with Master J.

The last thing Jax Schroyer expected was a woman who pushed all his buttons the way Risa did. From the moment he laid eyes on her—and hands—on her he knew one night with her would never be enough. Somehow in the few hours they’d be together he had to convince her he was the man who would always fulfill her dark desire.

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The man sitting next to him rose, and immediately, Risa felt her thong dampen even as her mouth went dry. Like Ruelas, he appeared taller than he was his shoulders broad, and his chest and abs hard and flat, with a sexy dusting of dark hair. All the rippling muscles were easy to see because he was naked from the waist up. The rest of his body was clad in leather pants tight enough that she could see the thick bulge of his cock. Below that, he was barefoot. She noticed his feet appeared as graceful as the rest of his body.

But it was his face that caught her attention. Framed by a thick fall of inky black hair, it was a warrior’s face, finely chiseled with a square jaw, startling blue eyes and lashes any woman would kill for. The power he exuded was so strong as to be nearly visible in the air around him. She could only stand there mesmerized, and so aroused she needed every bit of discipline to keep herself together.

Deep inside her something unfamiliar began to unwind like a coil tightened down for too long. Something teased at her emotions as well as her senses. Was she getting herself into something too deep here? She wasn’t looking for more than one night of intense pleasure. Was she?

“Risa,” Ruelas’ voice penetrated the fog wrapped around her brain. “This is Master J.”

Her eyes drank him in even as they kept returning to the significant bulge in his pants. She could hardly wait to feel that inside her. At his pleasure, of course.

Master J, in full Dom mode, did not extend his hand. Instead, he let his gaze travel slowly over every inch of her body, so penetrating was his stare that she might as well have been naked. He nodded at Ruelas.

“She will do very nicely.”

Ruelas smiled. “You know it is always my goal to please.” He looked at Risa. “I have passed along your desires to Master J and I assure you he can more than satisfy them. Beyond that, Risa, you can trust him completely.”

Her mouth was so dry she had to swallow before she could speak. Every nerve in her body vibrated and her pulse throbbed in her womb.

“Thank you, Ruelas.” She lowered her eyes. “And thank you, Master J.”

“The room is prepared for you,” the owner told the Dom. “Everything is as you requested.”

“Good. Then we shouldn’t waste any more time.”

Okay, so no small talk or let’s get acquainted.

Well, this was what she’d asked for, right? A complete Dom who would take her well into the next level of BDSM play. Someone who could satisfy the very dark desires that claimed her dreams and left her shaken when she awoke.

BLIND ECSTASY by Desiree Holt

BLIND ECSTASY by Desiree Holt

Tentative Club Fantasy Book One

When Johanna Devlin fell in love with Sean Devlin she thought she had it all - a man who loved her as much as she loved him and the perfect Dom for her submissive nature. On her birthday when he asked her to marry him, to wear his collar, she was sure she had it all. But the next day he disappeared and four years later he’s still missing from her life.

Except for rare visits to Club Fantasy she’s retreated from the D/s lifestyle. Then her sister insists she accept the gift of a night at Club Fantasy with a Dom who knows just how to satisfy all her sexual needs. She accepts with some reservation, especially when the dungeon master blindfolds her before taking her to the private room. Before the night is over she finds a lot more than hours of intense sexual delights.

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~Excerpt~

Fantasy discreetly stood in the north side of the city, an adobe structure with a red barrel tile roof. It sat squarely between a one-story office building and another Spanish-style building housing a home design firm. The difference between the three structures was that Fantasy owned all the property behind it to allow sufficient space for parking. Visitors entered through a canopied door at the rear of the building.

The limo deposited her right at the canopy, the driver opened her door, and she slid across the seat. She pressed the doorbell set into the adobe and swallowed hard to steady her nerves. When the heavy carved wooden door swung open she stepped into the oak-paneled reception area on legs suddenly slightly unsteady.

“Good evening, Miss Johanna.”

Lila, the greeter, smiled at her.

“We haven’t had the pleasure of your visits for some time.”

Jo smoothed her hands down the flimsy material of her dress.

“No, I’ve been, uh, somewhat busy.”

“Well, we’re certainly glad you’ve chosen to celebrate your birthday with us. Your sister has made all the arrangements. I trust you’ll find them to your liking.”

“One can hope,” she muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing.”

Jo pasted on a smile.

“I’m ready for the festivities to begin.”

“I’m positive you’ll enjoy the evening planned for you,” Lila smoothly said. “Let’s get your purse into a locker.”

She lifted a hand and beckoned.

“Jason? Our special guest is here.”

Special guest? Jo frowned. Exactly how special? She wondered if she’d regret agreeing to this. Her palms dampened and her throat was suddenly dry. She might have turned and run back out the door, but Jason gave her a warm smile. Black leather pants and a vest outlined a husky figure that was solid muscle. His long blond hair was intricately braided with a thin silver rope and hung down his back nearly to his waist. He was a familiar face to her, a dungeon master with whom she’d interacted many times.

“Happy birthday, Miss Johanna.” He grinned at her. “We’re happy you’re spending it with us here at Fantasy.”

“Thanks, Jason.” She gave him a weak smile. “I think.”

“Miss Kira was very specific about tonight’s arrangements.”

He winked, took her arm, and led her down a short hallway to the room where people stowed their possessions and clothing before entering the club.

When Jason reached for her purse she tightly clutched it, overcome with a sudden urge to turn and make a break for the door. But the tall man placed his hand over one of hers and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

“I know you have some reservations because you haven’t been here to play in a long time,” he told her. “But let me assure you, tonight will fulfill your greatest fantasies.”

Jo had plenty of misgivings, considering the man of her fantasies had disappeared off the face of the earth. Could she actually be with another Dom in a place where she and Sean had been completely intimate and explored nearly every aspect of BDSM?

Yes, you can.

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FREEDOM TO OBEY by Cheryl Dragon

FREEDOM TO OBEY by Cheryl Dragon

Telling his girlfriend he’s a werewolf is nothing compared to sharing his secret lust for BDSM.

Dillon’s girlfriend is a single mom and, more than anyone, she needs a release, a way to put stress aside, and to learn it’s okay to let someone else be in charge!

Laurel gives in to the experimentation at a sex club, but he only gets to be the boss for her pleasure!

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~Excerpt~

Dillon Jefferies watched his girlfriend Laurel do a hurried final check of her son’s backpack. The seven-year-old wasn’t high-maintenance, but Adam’s mom definitely could be. A honk from the driveway made everyone look. 

“Behave. Call me if you need anything. Love you.” Laurel hugged Adam tight and gave him his first cell phone. They’d practiced with it all week. 

Dillon got a high five as Adam headed out for a weekend with his dad. The often absentee father didn’t get any points in Dillon’s book, but maybe, he had finally grown up. Either way, the phone connection made Dillon feel better about it. He had big plans for the weekend. 

Laurel sat down next to Dillon on the couch and rested her head on his shoulder. Her reddish brown hair curled rebelliously as always. When she pressed her curvy figure to him, Dillon felt total trust and he saw it in her big green eyes. 

“He’ll be fine. He’s got both our numbers and your parents’ programmed in there. Phone, email and text. If he needs us, he’ll get us.” He wrapped an arm around her. 

She nodded. “I know. It’s just hard. Distract me?” 

That was the plan, but it was more than a weekend of fun sex in bed that he had in mind. “You trust me?” he asked. 

Her brow scrunched. “Of course. What are you up to?” 

Checking his watch, Dillon knew the club crowd would be very light until dinner. Demented was something he’d never shared with her. It was time to take their relationship to the next level. All Dillon could do now was hope she handled it well. 

“I’m going to take you out. First, I need to tell you something.” He held her hand. 

“What?” Laurel’s face froze as if she were fighting off a cringe. Men had screwed with her before—Dillon knew that, and he had no intention of hurting her that way. He needed them to be closer. 

“It’s not bad. Really. You know how I go to see my mom every month? Four hour drive there and back.” Dillon hated that lie.

She nodded. 

“I don’t see my mom.” 

Her body went stiff, and she pulled away. “Another woman? Seriously? Just go. Get out so you’re long gone before Adam’s back.” 

Dillon smiled. He admired how she’d put her son first and didn’t take crap from men. When he started dating her, her friends had warned him one screw up was all it took to be history. Not because she’s a bitch but because she’d been hurt and after the divorce turned into a super protective mama bear. 

“I’m not cheating on you. I’d never do that. Just listen.” He rubbed the tension from her shoulders. 

“I thought you were different. Your trip isn’t always a weekend. Not consistent. Something was off.” 

“But you never asked. Never followed me. You trust me.” Dillon looked her in the eye. “I go to a safe place because I have to.” 

“Parole? Drug testing?” Her inner control freak couldn’t calm down.

“No and no. I’m a werewolf.” The words sounded silly, but the reality was anything but. 

She leaned back. “Werewolf? Like an animal?” 

“Exactly. I go into a safe environment for the full moon nights so I don’t hurt anyone.” 

“You’d never hurt anyone.” Her hands framed his face. “Is this a joke? Some role-playing sex game I don’t understand?” she asked. 

Dillon stood, removed his clothing and shifted to his wolf form. With no moon tugging at his animal side, he was in control so it was safe. When he saw the shock in her eyes, he licked her hand and shifted back. 

Grabbing him, Laurel felt his body and for once was speechless. Which was good. He had plans for more than true confessions this weekend. 

“I want to take you to the safe place. Show you everything.”

“I believe you now. I don’t want to see your cage.” She shuddered. 

“It’s not a cage. Demented has a habitat that’s safe. It caters to a lot of paranormal needs. BDSM with paranormal beings can be dangerous.” Dillon wanted to show her the fun side of dating a werewolf. 

“BDSM? Do you do that, too?” Her expression was hard to read, a mix of curiosity and caution. 

They’d been dating for four months, and Dillon had proven himself with Adam. With Laurel’s ex. With Laurel’s family. With Laurel’s stressful life. Now, he wanted to prove he could help her stressed state.

“I haven’t since I started seeing you. I’d never hurt or cheat on you. But I think you might like to try some things. If you want.” 

“I trust you…but what if I don’t like it? Don’t you think this is the sort of thing that you should tell someone early on? I mean, if we’re not really sexually compatible then there goes everything.” She threw up her hands and her toe tapped nervously. 

“There were more important things. Your ex was a jerk. Adam. Not moving too fast and screwing it up. I wanted to be sure we worked before I suggested it.” He chuckled at how the BDSM issue had completely overshadowed the werewolf fact. 

“So you think I’m a dominatrix? Some days I feel like drill sergeant.” She laughed. 

“Sometimes we need all need a change.” He tugged her to her feet. “Let’s get you dressed and head over. It’s much better to go over the details there.” 

She nodded and held his hand tight. Dillon squeezed her hand back. Her trust meant the world to him. Whether it was kinky sex or exploring the paranormal world he inhabited, he’d keep her safe. Once she had a submissive experience, he hoped that she’d understand it was a gift for both of them.

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