He dominates the charts, but can he dominate her heart?
Pop-rock singer Tamsin Keller likes to dominate, but when she breaks up with her cheating ex-boyfriend, she visits BDSM club Dante’s for another reason—to submit.
Her experience is heightened when she locks eyes with a mysterious stranger, who turns out to be rock star and Dominant Aspen LaRoche. Fascinated by Tamsin, he invites her to his holiday home for the weekend and Tamsin accepts, hoping to discover more about her submissive side.
Aspen proves to be an expert tutor, and Tamsin finds herself addicted to the pleasures he shows her. When Aspen also discovers she is a singer, he offers her band an audition with his recording company, and Tamsin jumps at the chance, knowing he can provide opportunities that she has never had before.
But when Tamsin’s jealous ex reappears in her life, will Tamsin’s career and happiness be over, or will this be the start of something for both her and Aspen?
Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of stalking and harrassment, as well as infidelity.
General Release Date: 27th December 2022
She could hear the phone ringing from the bedroom, hear its shrill call as she stripped off her daywear. Skirt—on the floor. T-shirt—thrown over the back of a chair. Socks—slung under the bed.
Click. The answering machine had kicked in.
“Tamsin. Look, I know you’re there. Pick up.”
Him. She yanked a drawer open, pulled out the components of her outfit, her movements jerky and uncontrolled.
“Look, baby, I’m sorry. I’m sorry! I know you’re angry, I know I’ve hurt you, but please, just talk to me. Tell me what to do to make it right.”
Stockings—on. Suspenders—attached. Her fingers were shaking, and she cursed herself. So stupid. So fucking stupid.
“I swear I don’t love her. I was just saying that. I didn’t mean it. She’s nothing compared to you.”
The ache in her chest made her want to scream. Want to punish him for doing this to her, want to punish herself for letting him. Should have known better. Fucking idiot.
“I’ve broken it off with her. I’ll never see her again.”
Now fully dressed, she pushed her feet into six-inch-heeled black sandals and made her way hastily downstairs, picking up the long coat that hung over the banister. She buttoned it up all the way as she crossed the hall to where her handbag lay by the front door.
“Please, just talk to me. Please.”
Fuck you, you cheating bastard.
Tamsin Keller directed one vicious scowl at the machine, its light flashing with untouched messages, before leaving, slamming the door behind her.
* * * *
The entrance to the club was down a short flight of steps, its doorway just below street level. Above the door a neon sign proclaimed its name—Dante’s. An innocent name, telling nothing of what lay within.
The security guard nodded to Tamsin as she passed him, one eyebrow raised in surprise. She didn’t usually come in on Thursday nights, and hadn’t been at all for the past three months—not since she had last been single. Inside, a dark, velvet-carpeted hallway led to a gold-framed door lit by a green light. Tamsin pushed it open, letting the sounds of the club envelop her.
Dante’s wasn’t the only BDSM club in town, but it was the best. She knew it well. She had been attending for over a year, gradually becoming a regular. Outside its walls she was Tamsin Keller. Within its walls she was Lady Night.
Darkness surrounded her, velvety, figures faintly visible in the red and green lights. To her left was a bar area glowing blue, glasses suspended from the ceiling above it, along with a chandelier made out of bottles. Voices carried over the heavy rock music in the background, making arrangements, making plans.
Jackson—her now ex-boyfriend—had had no idea she ever came here. She knew she was safe from him here.
She made her way to the varnished red door at the back. A pearlescent sign above declared it the VIP area. At this time few people were likely to be there, but of those few, she had a good idea who they would be.
As she opened the door and stepped through, she saw that she had been right. Over in the right-hand corner, just turning to face her, was Ryan Laker—or, as he was known within these walls, Master Leo.
The mirror to her right reflected them both as she stood in front of him. Opposites standing face to face. Her black hair glowed blue under the lights, cascading over the collar of her coat, designed to conceal her curves. He was tall and slim, his brown hair gelled into spikes, face covered by a half-mask. Without the mask he looked friendly, innocent—with it, he was daunting.
She knew it was the same for her. Her tanned face had a fresh, sweet quality to it, all softness and rounded edges, lacking the high cheekbones and firm jaw she would have preferred. She knew how to take charge, but the mask added the power her face needed.
“Master Leo.”
“Lady Night. This is a surprise.”
If he was surprised now, he would be stunned when she told him why she was there. She was in full costume, only missing her mask, which was in her pocket. She always wore a mask when she was dominating.
But that wasn’t what she had come for.
“I have a request.”
Ryan bowed his head. “Name it.”
“The cat.” Tamsin gestured towards the cat-o’-nine-tails flogger hanging from the wall. It was light, but she knew from experience how much it stung. “Whip me.”
Ryan’s eyes narrowed briefly, then he gave a curt nod. Tamara turned towards the nearby pole that ran against the wall, shedding her coat and stepping out of her trousers. She kicked them off to the side and reached up to grab the pole.
“Be ready,” she heard Ryan say from behind her, and automatically she arched her back, presenting herself to him.
She imagined how Ryan must be looking, what he must be thinking. The sight of her body would be no surprise to him. He had seen her in her underwear before. But she’d never let anyone whip her, never let anyone dominate her. Never.
Tonight was different.
Tonight she wanted to be punished.
Crack.
The cat-o’-nine-tails lashed across her back, leaving stinging lines behind. Tamsin closed her eyes, focussing on the pain.
Jackson.
She should have known he was cheating. Her friends had told her not to trust him. Hell, her best friend Nadia had even offered to follow him for her. But it had taken a misplaced text for her to see the light.
See you at Red’s tomorrow. Love you, baby.
Except they hadn’t had plans, and they hadn’t been talking.
Jackson had claimed he had been talking to his sister. Yeah, right. Fortunately, he had forgotten he had left himself logged into Facebook on her laptop.
The chat logs had said it all, and she had dumped him on the spot.
“I swear I don’t love her. I was just saying that.”
And he was probably saying the exact same things to his other woman.
She knew he would eventually stop calling, but until then he would be filling up her voicemail, blowing up her phone. Reminding her of what an idiot she had been.
At yet another crack of the whip she opened her eyes again and found herself focussing on a figure at the other side of the room.
Never seen him before.
The man was nursing a glass of whisky over ice, facing her, his eyes fixed on hers. Under the lights she could see his hair was a curious shade of white-blond, gelled to flop just so. His eyes were as pale as ice, glowing as they bored into hers. His face was angular, with high cheekbones, a pointed nose and firm mouth that seemed to twitch occasionally as he watched her.
She had never seen him, and yet it was as though she could read his mind.
He was watching her with desire. Watching her submit.
She was a Dominant. And yet somehow, as the whip lashed across her back, her legs, her bared arse, she felt a sting of need deep in her core—as though she were submitting to him, and enjoying it.
As though he were behind her, watching the flush rise on her skin, the faint lines of the lash, knowing that she was growing wet, that her clit was starting to pulse with longing.
Everything else had faded, even Ryan. It was as if she were alone in the room with him, as though every strike were for him. And at any moment he would throw the whip aside, pull her back towards him and bury his cock inside her.
Behind her, Ryan paused. She felt the whip pass her thigh as he lowered it, and in that moment she stifled a cry of frustration.
It was over.
And, as she looked at the blond man, she saw him nod his head once, then return his empty glass to the bar and turn to leave.
Tamsin watched him go, flushed and trembling.
She would definitely have to take a few minutes alone after this.
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