Chapter One
Fuck.
Ever since he’d been unceremoniously dumped on his ass three years ago, Logan Powell had done the world a favor by avoiding the fairer sex. Women had very real needs, emotional as well as physical. They deserved to be involved with someone who was a better person than he was.
So what the hell was he doing in the dungeon of his friend’s home, at a BDSM play party, staring at the petite blonde on the other side of the room?
It wasn’t just her strong, athletic build that attracted him, but also the short blonde hair that framed her face, fuck-me boots, tight black T-shirt and skimpy leather skirt. But what did him in was the way she tugged on the hem of her skirt in a betrayal of nerves.
He propped a foot against the wall behind him and watched her exhale as he considered his next move.
It had been months since he’d scened. And on the rare occasions when he did play, he preferred to engage with experienced submissives. If his tingling detective senses were anything to go by, the woman in question had never been dominated.
Double fuck.
He shouldn’t ache to be the one to give her the first taste of the exquisite pleasure that came from submitting. Shouldn’t. But he did.
Joe Montrose, the house’s owner and tonight’s host, walked over and stood next to Logan. “Jennifer…”
“What?” Logan cupped his ear to indicate he was having difficulty hearing over the thundering pulse of a Nine Inch Nails song.
Joe repeated himself. “Her name’s Jennifer Berklee. She works with Noelle. It’s Jennifer’s first time at one of these events.”
“I’m not interested.” Logan shook his head. When had he become a liar?
“You don’t miss it?”
“Playing with a newbie?” Teaching her about her own responses? Driving her to the edge of distraction, keeping her there, then shoving her over it so he could catch her and care for her? “No.”
“Not at all?”
Despite himself, Logan watched as Jennifer squared her shoulders and moved toward Simon, a Dom who attended a number of events in the area.
Her hips swayed alluringly, and Logan adored the way she all but strutted in those booted heels.
For a stupid, but thankfully brief second, he wished she were walking in his direction.
“Is Simon still looking for someone to collar?” Simple Simon, as Logan thought of him, though it probably wasn’t a fair nickname.
But from what Logan had seen, the man had a single approach to women, and a boring one at that.
He never seemed to drive a sub to the very edges of endurance and give her amazing completion.
The man wasn’t a bad Top, just an uninspired one.
“Yeah,” Joe replied. “He’s been looking since Lisa ditched him.”
Shouldn’t matter. Nope. Not a bit.
Joe said something that Logan missed. Even though he clearly knew he was being ignored, Joe kept running his mouth. “So, are you?”
Logan dragged his attention away from Jennifer. “Am I what?”
“Coming to Noelle’s surprise birthday party? She’s turning thirty.”
“When is it?”
“Three weeks.”
Logan turned and narrowed his gaze at the man who’d been a friend since basic training. Later, after they’d left the service, they’d returned to the Middle East as civilian contractors. They’d survived two years of skin-searing heat and an explosion where most of their team had died.
Now they worked together again, based out of the Denver office of Hawkeye Security. They still had each other’s backs. Because of what they’d shared and how well they knew each other, Logan’s vague answer meant he was hedging. “What date?” Logan asked. “Specifically.”
“Ah. February fourteenth.”
Logan scowled. “I fucking hate Valentine’s Day. You know that.” It wasn’t just the cloying expectations but the still-raw memories he preferred to leave buried. Being among happy, loving couples only made it worse.
“Missing the party will make you a bigger asshole than you already are.”
“Fuck off.”
Joe grinned. Not much bothered the man.
In silence, they watched the exchange between Jennifer and Master Simon.
“If you’re interested in playing with her, either Noelle or I can arrange it.” Without waiting for a reply, Joe moved off, leaving Logan in blessed, voyeuristic peace.
Dom and sub spoke for a few moments and eventually Master Simon nodded at the St. Andrew’s cross.
A blaze of unwelcome and unwanted possession arced through Logan as she closed the distance toward the X-shaped BDSM equipment.
As if sensing his attention, she glanced over at him.
He folded his arms across his chest as their gazes locked.
Even across the distance, he saw her shiver.
Smart girl, recognizing his danger.
After a few seconds, she shook her head and turned away.
Simple Simon took a step in her direction.
Suddenly Logan realized he did want to be the man behind her, pressing her against the wood, instructing her to lift her arms high so he could affix her wrists to a pair of cuffs.
Instead, another man had that honor.
The man secured her in place, and she immediately pulled her right wrist free. If Logan were in charge, that wouldn’t have happened. Even if all she wanted was a taste of his dominance, he’d make sure she would never forget the experience.
After putting her wrist back in place, Master Simon rubbed her buttocks through her skirt.
Logan’s cock thickened.
Because he needed human contact to maintain his sanity, he showed up at Joe and Noelle’s events several times a year. While watching others scene interested him, he’d rarely gotten aroused from it.
Then again, he’d rarely had this kind of visceral reaction to a woman.
Master Simon selected a sturdy leather paddle.
It wasn’t a bad decision, Logan mused. The toy was intimate, but not overly so. And since her delectable derriere was covered by her skirt, the impact would be minimal. Good choice for a neophyte.
Master Simon gave the sub three swats.
The third made her move her body to one side—something she did easily since her ankles weren’t secured.
Another mistake Logan wouldn’t make.
He wanted his subs to feel every damn thing he did to them. He wanted them aware, aroused, interested, committed, and he wanted them to stay in place while it was happening.
Without any change to the rhythm, Master Simon delivered two more swats.
Then the man put down the paddle on a nearby bench, and she freed herself from the restraints.
Logan blinked. Was the scene already over?
Jennifer turned toward Simon, adjusted her skirt, then smiled politely before scurrying up the staircase.
With a curse, Logan pushed away from the wall and followed. If she had scened with him, there would have been no bland, polite smiles afterward. At the very least, he would have talked to her and asked questions instead of allowing her to walk away.
When he found her, she was near the front door, reaching to take her coat from a rack.
“May I?” he asked.
“I…” She dropped her hand and turned toward him before meeting his gaze.
Until they were this close, he hadn’t known her eyes were blue, bright, wide, and vibrant.
He wanted to see them widen with shock, darken with desire. “Logan Powell,” he said by way of introduction as he grabbed her coat and held it for her.
“Thank you.” She settled into it, then knotted the belt around her waist as she faced him.
“I watched your scene with Master Simon.”
Her shoulders stiffened.
“You didn’t seem all that into it.”
Her mouth was pressed into a firm line, making him realize he wasn’t any more adept than Simon had been. Bulldozing on, Logan took a business card from his wallet and offered it to her.
She hesitated, and he wasn’t sure she’d accept it.
“Feel free to call me if you want to experience a real scene.”
“That felt real to me.” She rubbed her behind.
“Perhaps I’m mistaken,” he allowed. “But it seemed as if you might have wanted something more. BDSM is not just about impact. There’s a mental and emotional component as well. Trust is involved, and so is getting exactly what you’re looking for. I think you know that.”
She glanced at his contact information before taking his card and stuffing it into her pocket.
“Joe and Noelle can vouch for me.”
After saying good night but not responding to his offer, she left, closing the door behind her with a decisive click.
“You crashed and burned,” Joe observed.
“How long have you been lurking?” Logan pivoted to level a glare at his friend.
“Lurking? I prefer to think of it as making sure my guests find their way out safely.”
Noelle joined them. “Ignore my husband. He’s being nosy.” She lightly pressed her fingertips to her husband/Dominant’s forearm.
Logan didn’t miss the sign of deference and affection. Until this moment, he hadn’t envied the pair their hard-won relationship. Tonight, though, he felt a twinge of regret for the life choices he’d made.
“I was hoping Jennifer would talk to you.” Noelle sighed. “She needs someone.”
“Maybe if Logan had more tact than your average gorilla, he might have had a chance.”
Noelle frowned at Joe.
“She took my card.” Logan needed to advocate for himself. Maybe, just maybe, she’d contact him.