He wanted a Dom to love him.
The way Rogue had.
That special connection that took a sub on a flight of sensation so intense, he never wanted to land, but when he did, he could find love in the strong arms of a man he could trust with his life.
Rogue had loved him, cared for him—left him—crushed him.
What would he do when Rogue walked into Club Depravity? How could he breathe in his scent and survive without him?
AMAZON BESTSELLER
Excerpt:
Chapter One
Jackson
Moon ran his thumb through the condensation covering the glass of water and
stared at the reflection behind the bar at Club Depravity. The crowd on the
dance floor bounced as one to the heavy metal music thumping from the speakers
set high in the ceiling. Reflections from the gaudy mirrored sixties glass ball
twisted the men’s smiles into gruesome masks under the colored flashing lights.
He looked away, disinterested in blatant displays of happiness and swirled the
ice around the glass watching each piece melt away into oblivion much like him
of late. Loneliness surrounded him in a crowded club how stupid was that?
Fine,
he’d helped his twin brother, Joel, pack his belongings and move into the new
home of Reef Anderson, a fucking rock star, and the delectable Master Rhys who
happened to be the owner of Club Depravity. Oh yeah, his vanilla virgin twin
had stolen the heart of not one but two
prime ass Doms and was doing the happy ever after scene. He rolled his
shoulders. I’m not jealous.
Although
of late, his life as a house sub had become meaningless. In fact, he could
pinpoint the exact moment his life had gone straight to hell. It had coincided
with the return of his friend, Shayd from
overseas with news his old Dom and heartbreaker, Rogue. The lead singer of
Alpha Rock would be arriving back in town. He swallowed the lump in his throat
and rubbed unconsciously at the ache surrounding his heart. Oh yeah, being
dumped by his longtime lover for a woman had sent him into a spiral of
self-doubt. He’d seen it happen to other subs and recognized his fall from a
rock star’s arrogant sub to the sorry ass on the bottom of the pile of house
subs.
At
first, he’d enjoyed the variety of Masters. Big Doms, hairy Doms, the spankers,
and the edge players had relieved his itch,
his need for domination, but seeing his brother so happy with his Doms had made
him remember a time he wished he could forget. Joel’s Doms doted on his twin and the scenes his brother
had described with them—man they blew his mind. He wanted that connection
again, the special bond with a Dom that went way past trust. He wanted a Dom to
love him.
The
way Rogue had.
That
special connection that took a sub on a flight of sensation so intense, he
never wanted to land, but when he did, he found love in the strong arms of a
man he would have trusted with his life.
Rogue
had loved him, cared for him—left him —crushed him.
What
would he do when Rogue walked into Club Depravity? How could he breathe in his
scent and survive without him?
“Hey,
Jackson. Wanna play?”
Reluctantly,
he turned his head to inspect the Dom standing beside him. Yeah, he could do
the respect thing but he did not intend to do a scene with anyone. Dropping his
lashes, he shook his head. “Thank you for asking, Master Dave, but I’m already
booked. Maybe next time?”
Dave
melted into the crowd at the sight of Shayd strolling toward him. He drew a
sigh of relief, although the sight of Rogue’s brother made his stomach drop.
They were alike in many ways, the arrogant walk and tip of the head, but Shayd
had a voice like dark chocolate, and Rogue had the sexy rasp of a lead singer.
“Well,
don’t you look the picture of misery? Point out the Dom who mistreated you and
I’ll teach him a lesson in respect.” Shayd slid onto the barstool beside him
his eyes flashing with menace. “Talk to me, boy.”
“I’m
not your fucking boy, Shayd, and we have been friends far too long for me to
call you Master so back off.” He took
a long drink of water, licked his lips, and slid around on the barstool to face
him. “No one has hurt me. Do you honestly believe I would get myself into any
situation I couldn’t handle? I’m not Ben. By the way, how is my innocent cousin
handling your dungeon?”
“He
is amazingly versatile and willing to try anything.” Shayd waved at the
bartender for his usual Scotch on the rocks then turned his attention back to
him. “He is more like you than you give him credit for and he has a streak of
arrogance I like.”
Wonderful, another love match made in
heaven. Excuse me while I gag. “I’m glad you’re getting along. Now, why are
you here, Shayd? You should be with Ben not hanging out with me.” He caught the
stiffening of Shayd’s shoulders and
waited for the ax to fall.
“I’m
here to talk to you about Rogue.” As Shayd swiveled to face him, his leather
pants creaked. “Why haven’t you returned
his calls?”
Anger
walked a path up his spine and he snapped his head up to glare at him. He
forced out words between clenched teeth. “Back off. You are not going there.”
“Yeah,
I am.” Shayd closed one large hand
around Jackson’s arm. “I have been dancing around on the sidelines for long
enough. Neither of you will discuss the breakup. It’s eating you up and
affecting Rogue, which fucks up Alpha Rock and that sure as hell makes it my
business. He hasn’t written a song for two fucking years and can’t without you.
The band is losing its identity by constantly recording other people’s
material.”
Jackson
snorted and rounded on him. “Like I give a flying fuck about Alpha Rock. If I
wanted to write songs, which I don’t right now, I’d be writing with Reef
Anderson, not fucking Rogue. Like, I could be in the same fucking room with
that cheating asshole, let alone create a hit single with him.” He pushed Shayd
hard in the chest, but he didn’t loosen
his grip. “I thought you were my friend? Obviously not. Get the fuck away from
me.”
“Why
did you split up with him without a face-to-face is all I want to know?” Shayd
dragged him off the seat and toward the dungeons. “You are going to fucking
talk to me if I have to tie you up for a week.”
Jackson
pulled back and slapped him hard across the face. “Yeah?” He turned to the
bartender. “Get Rhys, now. Tell him I’m in trouble.”
“Right,
call the boss man or is he an in-law now, he’s screwing your brother?” Shayd
shook him hard enough to make his teeth rattle. “All I want to do is to get to
the bottom of this. Look at you. You’ve lost weight and you don’t give a fuck about
anything. How long since you did any work?”
Shaking
with fury, he met Shayd’s troubled gaze and swallowed hard. He had been so damn
pleased to see him return from the UK and now he wished he’d stayed there. Over
his shoulder, he caught sight of Rhys barreling toward them with an expression
hewn out of granite.
“Let
go of Jackson—now!” Rhys set one large hand on Shayd’s shoulder and glared at
him nose to nose. “What the fuck are you doing, man?”
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