Naughty Little Secret Read online

  Callie Ward has been a fugitive since she was sixteen—until she found the perfect hideout, Club Dominion. The only problem is she’s fallen for the club’s Master, Mitchell Thorpe, who keeps her at arm’s length. Little does she know that his reasons for not getting involved have everything to do with his wounded heart…and his consuming desire for her.

  To live out her wildest fantasies…

  Enter Sean Kirkpatrick, a Dom who’s recently come to Dominion and taken a pointed interest in Callie. Hoping to make Thorpe jealous, she submits to Sean one shuddering sigh at a time. It isn’t long before she realizes she’s falling for him too. But the tender lover who’s slowly seducing her body and earning her trust isn’t who he claims…

  And to fall in love.

  When emotions collide and truths are exposed, Sean is willing to risk all to keep Callie from slipping through his fingers. But he’s not the only man looking to stake a claim. Now Callie is torn between Sean and Thorpe, and though she’s unsure whom she can trust, she’ll have to surrender her body and soul to both—if she wants to elude a killer…

  * * * *

  Callie trembled as she lay back on the padded table and Sean Kirkpatrick’s strong fingers wrapped around her cuffed wrist, guiding it back to the bindings above her head.

  “I don’t know if I can do this,” she murmured.

  He paused, then drew in a breath as if he sought patience. “Breathe, lovely.”

  That gentle, deep brogue of his native Scotland brought her peace. His voice both aroused and soothed her, and she tried to let those feelings wash through her. “Can you do that for me?” he asked.

  His fingers uncurled from her wrist, and he grazed the inside of her outstretched arm with his knuckles. As always, his touch was full of quiet strength. He made her ache. She shivered again, this time for an entirely different reason.

  “I’ll try.”

  Sean shook his head, his deep blue eyes seeming to see everything she tried to hide inside. That penetrating stare scared the hell out of her. What did he see when he looked at her? How much about the real her had he pieced together?

  The thought made her panic. No one could know her secret. No one. She’d kept it from everyone, even Thorpe, during her four years at Dominion. She’d finally found a place where she felt safe, comfortable. Of course she’d have to give it up someday, probably soon. She always did. But please, not yet.

  Deep breath. Don’t panic. Sean wants your submission, not your secrets.

  “You’ll need to do better than try. You’ve been ‘trying’ for over six months,” he reminded her gently. “Do you think I’d truly hurt you?”

  No. Sean didn’t seem to have a violent bone in his body. He wasn’t a sadist. He never gripped her harshly. He never even raised his voice. She’d jokingly thought of him as the sub whisperer because he pushed her boundaries with a gentleness she found both irresistible and insidious. Certainly, he’d dragged far more out of her than any other man had. Tirelessly, he’d worked to earn her trust. Callie felt terrible that she could never give it, not when doing so could be fatal.

  Guilt battered her. She should stop wasting his time.

  “I know you wouldn’t,” she assured, blinking up at him, willing him to understand.

  “Of course not.” He pressed his chest over hers, leaning closer to delve into her eyes.

  Callie couldn’t resist lowering her lids, shutting out the rest of the world. Even knowing she shouldn’t, she sank into the soft reassurance of his kiss. Each brush of his lips over hers soothed and aroused. Every time he touched her, her heart raced. Her skin grew tight. Her nipples hardened. Her pussy moistened and swelled. Her heart ached. Sean Kirkpatrick would be so easy to love.

  As his fingers filtered into her hair, cradling her scalp, she exhaled and melted into his kiss—just for a sweet moment. It was the only one she could afford.

  A fierce yearning filled her. She longed for him to peel off his clothes, kiss her with that determination she oft en saw stamped into his eyes, and take her with the single-minded fervor she knew he was capable of. But in the months since he’d collared her, he’d done nothing more than stroke her body, tease her, and grant her orgasms when he thought she’d earned them. She hadn’t let him fully restrain her. And he hadn’t yet taken her to bed.

  Not knowing the feel of him deep inside her, of waiting and wanting until her body throbbed relentlessly, was making her buckets full of crazy.

  After another skillful brush of his lips, Sean ended the kiss and lifted his head, breathing hard. She clung, not ready to let him go. How had he gotten under her skin so quickly? His tenderness filled her veins like a drug. The way he had addicted Callie terrified her.

  “I want you. Sean, please . . .” She damn near wept.

  With a broad hand, he swept the stray hair from her face. Regret softened his blue eyes before he ever said a word. “If you’re not ready to trust me as your Dom, do you think you’re ready for me as a lover? I want you completely open to me before we take that step. All you have to do is trust me, lovely.”

  Callie slammed her eyes shut. This was so fucking pointless. She wanted to trust Sean, yearned to give him everything—devotion, honesty, faith. Her past ensured that she’d never give any of those to anyone. But he had feelings for her. About that, she had no doubt. They’d grown just as hers had, unexpectedly, over time, a fledgling limb morphing into a sturdy vine that eventually created a bud just waiting to blossom . . . or die.

  She knew which. They could never have more than this faltering Dom/sub relationship, destined to perish in a premature winter.

  She should never have accepted his collar, not when she should be trying to keep her distance from everyone. The responsible choice now would be to call her safe word, walk out, quit him. Release them both from this hell. Never look back.

  For the first time in nearly a decade, Callie worried that she might not have the strength to say good-bye.

  What was wrong with her tonight? She was too emotional. She needed to pull up her big-girl panties and snap on her bratty attitude, pretend that nothing mattered. It was how she’d coped for years. But she couldn’t seem to manage that with Sean.

  “You’re up in your head, instead of here with me,” he gently rebuked her.

  Another dose of guilt blistered her. “Sorry, Sir.”

  Sean sighed heavily, stood straight, then held out his hand to her. “Come with me.”

  Callie winced. If he intended to stop the scene, that could only mean he wanted to talk. These sessions where he tried to dig through her psyche became more painful than the sexless nights she spent in unfulfilled longing under his sensual torture.

  Swallowing down her frustration, she dredged up her courage, then put her hand in his.

  Holding her in a steady grip, Sean led her to the far side of Dominion’s dungeon, to a bench in a shadowed corner. As soon as she could see the rest of the room, Callie felt eyes on her, searing her skin. With a nonchalant glance, she looked at the others scening around them, but they seemed lost in their own world of pleasure, pain, groans, sweat, and need. A lingering sweep of the room revealed another sight that had the power to drop her to her knees. Thorpe in the shadows. Staring. At her with Sean. His expression wasn’t one of disapproval exactly . . . but he wasn’t pleased.

  For more information or to purchase, click here.

  A View to a Thrill

  Master and Mercenaries, Book 7

  By Lexi Blake

  Coming August 19, 2014

  A Spy without a Country

  Simon Weston grew up royal in a place where aristocracy still mattered. Serving Queen and country meant everything to him, until MI6 marked him as damaged goods and he left his home in disgrace. Ian Taggart showed him a better way to serve his fellow man and introduced him to Sanctum, a place to pursue his passion for Dominance and submission. Topping beautiful subs was a lovely distraction until he met Chelsea, and becoming her Master turned into Simon’s most importan
t mission.

  A Woman without Hope

  Chelsea Dennis grew up a pawn to the Russian mob. Her father’s violent lessons taught her that monsters lurked inside every man and they should never be trusted. Hiding in the shadows, she became something that even the monsters would fear—an information broker who exposed their dirty secrets and toppled their empires. Everything changed when Simon Weston crossed her path. Valiant and faithful, he was everything she needed—and a risk she couldn’t afford to take.

  A Force too Strong to Resist

  When dark forces from her past threaten her newfound family at Sanctum, Chelsea must turn to Simon, the one man she can trust with her darkest secrets. Their only chance to survive lies in a mystery even Chelsea has been unable to solve. As they race to uncover the truth and stay one step ahead of the assassins on their heels, they will discover a love too powerful to deny. But to stop a killer, Simon just might have to sacrifice himself…

  * * * *

  Chelsea looked at the bed that dominated the room. The only bed. Somehow she’d managed to find the shitty motel that didn’t have two queens. No. It was way worse. It was a single queen and there was no couch. And she was pretty sure the floor was covered in disease. “I think I should sleep somewhere else. We need to find another room.”

  Blue eyes stared a hole through her. Somehow his eyes managed to be cold and hot given his mood. The color shifted, lighter, icier when he was angry. As warm as the Caribbean when he was happy.

  They often seemed so cold when he looked at her. “Your contact said to meet here. We’re staying here.”

  “He told me to meet him here. I’m sure they have another room, Weston. You don’t have to sit up all night.” Because there was no way they could share that bed. It was too small. He would take up all the space.

  He locked the door and set down his duffel bag on the table. He shrugged out of his jacket because the man wore a three-piece suit on the run. She couldn’t help but stare at his broad shoulders and the way his dress shirt tapered down to perfectly pressed slacks. He tugged at the silver tie he was wearing, pulling it free and working the buttons at his throat until she could see the start of his truly impressive chest.

  God, she hoped she wasn’t drooling.

  The shoulder holster was the next to go in his inadvertent striptease. “You should get settled in. We have to be up early in the morning. I’ll take the side closest to the door.”

  He couldn’t be serious. “Simon, there’s not enough room on that bed.”

  He threw that gorgeous body down, making the springs squeak. “Of course there is, love. You Americans just like to take up an enormous amount of space. When I was a child, my brother and I slept in beds much smaller than this.”

  “I’m not your brother, Simon.”

  “I understand that fully. Believe me.”

  She needed to take charge or she would make a complete fool of herself. “Look, Weston, you turned down my offer.”

  He turned lazily, one hand coming up to balance his head. He looked like a pinup in a women’s magazine—all lean and predatory lines. She could see the write-up in her head. Simon likes tea, Scotch and eating subs for breakfast. His turn-offs include everything that comes out of Chelsea Dennis’s mouth. “Are you talking about your very charming offer to use my body to lose your virginity?”

  She hadn’t put it like that. “You don’t want me. I get it. So let’s keep things simple. I hired you. I’m the boss. I’m going to see if I can rent the room next to this one and that can be yours.”

  He didn’t move. He didn’t have to. She saw the way his eyes narrowed and then his voice came out, low and in that perfect upper-crust British accent that made her nipples hard. Her nipples were really stupid and she wished they didn’t like him so damn much. “You’re under a grave misapprehension, Chelsea. You are not my boss and you did not hire me. You came to me with a problem and I told you I would solve it. I believe I also mentioned that I was in charge and that was the only way I do this for you. So you will take off your clothes and you will get into this bed and you will sleep beside me tonight. I explained this to you when you signed the bloody contract. Do I need to explain what the word submissive means?”

  Tears pricked her eyes. He was so damn unfair. She had to wonder if she would ever find a man who didn’t want to punish her. “You forced me to sign that contract.”

  Now he moved, rolling to the side of the bed and getting to his feet with pure predatory grace. “I did nothing of the kind.”

  He seemed very willing to revise history. She wasn’t about to let him forget. “If I hadn’t signed your contract, you would have let me die.”

  He sighed, a long-suffering sound. “I certainly would not and if you think that’s true then you don’t know me at all. Perhaps I should do exactly what I should have done in the first place, what I would have done if you hadn’t signed the contract.”

  That was worse than letting her die. “Please don’t call Ian.”

  His shoulders weren’t so straight as he turned and stared at her. “You’re reckless, Chelsea. If I give up even a moment’s control, I’ll lose you and I can’t stand the thought of that. The only way to save you is to be your Master and the only Master you’ll accept is not the kind I want to be.”

  “And what kind do you want to be?”

  “Indulgent. Loving. Kind. I want a sub who obeys me in the field because she understands I would never let anyone hurt her. I want the play to just be play. I want a sub who trusts me with her body, who wants me and not just some faceless Dom who’ll work her over and then walk away. And I certainly don’t want to be a curiosity.”

  She felt embarrassment flash through her system. If she could take back that first night’s utter idiocy she would. She should have known he wouldn’t want her. Not like that. “I get it. I got it when you turned me down the first time. I can get into bed with you because you won’t touch me.”

  He was suddenly in her space. He’d moved so quickly she wasn’t sure how he’d gotten there. One minute there was a bed between them and the next she was backing up until she hit the wall because he was stalking her. She’d gone as far as she could go, but he kept coming. He loomed over her, using every one of his six feet two inches. “I’ve tried to be polite about this, but you don’t want that, do you? You don’t want me to be a gentleman about this. You want me to take you because then you’ll bloody well get it over with and you can put me in the same box with all the other men who hurt you and used you and cast you aside. I would be just one more villain who did something to you.”

  “I never said that.”

  “You don’t have to. I understand you, Chelsea. You can’t comprehend that, but I do. I understand you like no other man will. So I understand that I have to explain certain things to you.” He moved closer until his mouth hovered above hers, his heat sinking into her skin. “I’m going to tell you how this is going to go. We’ll get into that bed and I’m going to put my hands on you and I’m going to put my mouth on you. I’m going to taste you. I swear by the time you get out of that bed in the morning, you’re going to know what it feels like to come against my tongue. That screaming you heard as we walked in, you’re going to make that girl’s orgasm sound like the squeaking of a mouse. But the one thing you won’t get is my cock. You won’t get that because I’m not going to take your virginity because you’re curious. I’ll take it when you can’t think about anything but me. I’ll take it when you cry out my name and tell me there’s no other man you’ll ever love the way you love me. Then and only then will I take what belongs to me. Am I understood?”