One Cut Deeper
Page 1
One Cut Deeper
By Joely Sue Burkhart
Her needs are dark. His are dangerous.
Charlie MacNiall has been bringing his beautiful king shepherd to the vet clinic where Ranay Killian works for the better part of a year. She doesn’t realize he’s been slowly wooing her. She certainly has no idea that he picked her deliberately—that she is to become his. A broken heart and a desperate desire to be dominated make her the perfect victim.
His perfect victim.
Charlie fixes Ranay, testing her emotional limits while pushing her sexual boundaries past anything she’d imagined possible. Pain is their shared pleasure...until Charlie disappears and Ranay is all but destroyed.
The FBI says the man she loves is a serial killer. Ranay can’t deny there’s a darkness in Charlie, a monstrous hunger that drives him to the brink. She even believes he could kill. But Charlie’s hunger is what bonds them—it’s the foundation of their love. Would he actually kill her?
91,000 words
Dear Reader,
I’d rather be reading. How many times do you say that during your day? I know I say it probably a dozen times through my day. I love to read, and I’d pretty much always rather be reading, so I’m always stockpiling books to ensure I never run out for the times when I can read. I’m thrilled Carina Press is able to give you month after month of books to add to your TBR pile, and May is no exception!
In Lynda Aicher’s erotic contemporary romance Back in Play, fun, flirty and sexy-as-hell Rachel Fielding is the perfect distraction Scott Walters needs when the Glaciers refused to renew his contract. But he hadn’t counted on falling for her or purging his deepest secrets to her, either. Can their fledgling relationship survive the trials he has ahead?
Edie Harris’s first romantic suspense, Blamed, was a reader favorite and she’s back with book two, Ripped: A Blood Money Novel, in which a sexy, hot-blooded spy coerces an ice-cold attorney to partner with him to wreak vengeance on the villain who threatens them both.
Joely Sue Burkhart is burning up the pages and testing our boundaries with her latest erotic romance, One Cut Deeper. Her needs are dark. His are dangerous. For Charlie and Ranay, pain is their shared pleasure...until Charlie disappears, and the hunger Ranay loved in him may be even darker than she suspected.
Alyssa Cole rocked our world with her first postapocalyptic romance, Radio Silence, and she’s back with sexy male/male romance Signal Boost, set in the same technologically devastated world. Months have passed since electricity, and society, stopped working; John is wondering if a life without internet is worth living when he stumbles across a hot astrophysicist who might change his life—and the world.
Also in the male/male category and taking us to whole new worlds is Lonely Shore, book two in the stunning science-fiction romance series from Jenn Burke and Kelly Jensen. Zander and Felix are trying to make their relationship work, but two things stand in the way: a criminal cartel out for blood and the rapid deterioration of Zander’s mental health. It’s a game of duck and cover as they search for answers, and when they find one, the cost might be too high.
2014 RITA® Award-nominated author Kat Latham’s Taming the Legend rounds out our romance offerings in May. In this passionate story of lovers reunited, legendary rugby player Ash Trenton fights to help Camila Morales—his first and only love—save her indebted sports camp...while also fighting to keep from losing his heart to her all over again.
For mystery fans who like their mystery with a side of fun, you have to check out Ricardo Sanchez. You first met Floyd, the PI living his life as Elvis would have wanted, in Elvis Sightings. Now he’s back in Bigfoot Blues, and his newest case leads him to man-eating mountain lions, chupacabras and plain-old murderers.
Coming in June 2015: Lisa Marie Rice delivers another awesome alpha hero, Julie Moffett’s Lexi Carmichael returns with further adventures and Julie Rowe launches a new romantic suspense military series.
Here’s wishing you a wonderful month of books you love, remember and recommend.
Happy reading!
~Angela James
Executive Editor, Carina Press
Dedication
For my beloved sis
Acknowledgments
Thank you to my beta readers Molly Burkhart, Willa Edwards and Stephanie Christine, and my editor Alissa Davis for helping me make this book my best work possible.
Also available from Joely Sue Burkhart and Carina Press
The Bloodgate Guardian
The Bloodgate Warrior
Golden
Coming February 2016
Two Cuts Darker, the sequel to One Cut Deeper
Contents
Part One: Owned
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Part Two: Betrayed
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Part Three: Redeemed
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
About the Author
Copyright
PART ONE:
Owned
Chapter One
I could tell a lot about a man by watching him handle his dog.
At the vet clinic where I worked, we had the Lovers, who indulged their dogs’ every whim, even if that meant the animals were shredding their own leashes or terrorizing our office cat until she hid on top of the file cabinets. These men had good intentions and truly loved their animals, but they had no concept of discipline. As a result, their dogs refused to follow the most basic commands.
Then we had the men I called the Haters. They were the assholes jerking on the leash, yelling and treating their dogs like they were a useless waste of time. It didn’t matter how hard the dogs wagged their tails, these men were never going to be affectionate. They’d probably bought cute puppies for their kids and now saw their grown dogs as nothing more than smelly chores. A dog’s loyalty and affection were wasted on them.
The bell hanging on our door jingled, and I looked up. Sheba’s human was my favorite client and in a class all by himself. I called him the Master because he made controlling a king shepherd look easy. He didn’t need to jerk on her leash or yell at her. Instead, he was as affectionate as the Lovers, while maintaining perfect control at all times. He and Sheba walked into the clinic as if they were participating in a dog show. She could have torn the place up in seconds, but instead sat quietly at her master’s feet and wagged her tail.
“Good girl,” he murmured in a soft voice that still managed to thrum with power.
I clenched my thighs together. The sound of him praising his dog shouldn’t turn me on so much. I wasn’t his good girl, though my body certainly wanted me
to be.
Sheba looked at me, her tail swishing quicker against the floor, but she didn’t move from his side. We often boarded her for days at a time, and I’d started keeping her at my desk and taking care of her myself. She followed me everywhere and I’d been tempted to ask Dr. Wentworth if I could take her home with me rather than leave her in the kennel overnight.
He chuckled, then nodded in my direction. “Go on, I know you’re dying to say hello.”
She raced around the desk and dropped her head onto my thigh. I rubbed behind her ears and scratched under her jaw, her favorite places. She melted against me until she was draped across my lap.
He laughed again and I couldn’t help but look at him. Even though it was dangerous.
Charles MacNiall wasn’t your typical tall, dark and handsome sort of man. His hair—while dark—was curly and a little too long, and while he was taller than me, that wasn’t saying much since I barely top five feet. His physical size wasn’t impressive, but he was lean and tight and hard. He had the strength, both physically and mentally, to be alpha to a hundred-pound, extremely active dog.
More importantly, he had presence. Even though he stood on the opposite side of the receptionist counter, I could feel that warm power licking at my attention. That compelling heat that made me want to curl up at his feet like Sheba.
Always mindful of his power, he rarely looked directly into my eyes, as though he sensed I was far too vulnerable.
He allowed me to peek at him without trying to draw me out or catch me staring. I’d probably fall apart if the man looked at me.
My cheeks flushed and I stared hard at the computer screen, hoping he thought I was just shy, not appalled by my own stupid weakness. It didn’t matter how many times he came in. He always hit me like a sledgehammer between the eyes.
I held my breath for several moments until I regained control, then turned and gave him my best customer-service smile—without exactly meeting his gaze. “Good afternoon, Mr. MacNiall. Dr. Wentworth is almost ready for you. You’re our last client today.”
He smiled, flashing a killer dimple in his cheek. “I’m not in a rush.”
It was all I could do not to let out a ridiculous little sigh of pleasure. He wasn’t watching me, so I soaked him in quickly—the way his curly hair tumbled down across his forehead, his full lips, the warmth in his dark eyes. His cheeks and nose were ruddy, his hair windblown more than usual, as if he’d been outside a long time. If he were younger, I would’ve guessed he’d been sledding for hours, though there was hardly enough snow to make it worthwhile.
He rubbed his hands together and I noticed he didn’t have gloves. As if he’d heard my thoughts, he said, “I’ve been playing hooky. Sheba’s had me at the park all day.”
On Christmas Eve eve, our unpredictable Missouri weather had finally chilled enough to be called winter, putting me in an extremely rare holiday mood. It had to be a temporary sugar stupor that made me open my mouth. “We’ve got a pot of hot chocolate in the back. Would you like a cup to warm you up?”
“I’d love one, thanks.”
I bit my lip to keep from cursing out loud. I wasn’t supposed to engage him in conversation. It was too risky. I certainly wasn’t supposed to serve him anything. That led my wayward fantasies down a twisty, narrow corridor to a dark room equipped with a rack and a wall of torture implements. Relax. It’s only a cup of cocoa. I’m not hitting on him. He’s not hitting on me. This is just a nice, friendly offer of a hot drink on a chilly day.
I don’t have to go into take-me-to-your-dungeon territory.
I couldn’t stifle the kernel of anticipation that had sprouted in that dark secret corner of my mind. Even worse, that little sprout threatened to grow into Jack’s beanstalk when he and Sheba followed me into the break room. Clients never came back here, but I didn’t think Dr. Wentworth would mind. She claimed not to have any favorites, but Sheba was too perfect not to be on our office’s most-beloved list.
I started to scoop him a cup from the crockpot, then decided I’d better warn him first. “This didn’t come out of a box. It’s a recipe I came up with and now it’s become a sort of tradition at the office.” I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stop babbling. “It’s got coconut milk in it. Is that okay?”
He shrugged off his coat, and I looked away so I wouldn’t try to check out his muscles. “As long as it’s hot and chocolaty, I don’t care.”
And then he looked at me.
I mean, he really looked at me. Not at my breasts or checking me out, but as if he could see everything inside me. Everything I’d fought to fix and the things I pretended weren’t broken and painful. Some days those things ached so badly I was afraid I’d shatter into a thousand pieces. He saw that darkness in me. He saw how damaged I was.
And he didn’t turn away.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t blink. I couldn’t breathe.
With all that scorching intensity, he was either all in or completely out. No in-between. No safety net. No flirting. No escape.
A lot like me.
Which makes him entirely off-limits. I jerked my gaze away. Too dangerous by far.
He took a long drink and I was able to suck in a loud breath. I managed to get my heart beating again. My fingers were icy, my hands shaking, and as hot as my face felt, I was probably glowing as brightly as Rudolph’s nose. Desperate to hide my reaction, I knelt and concentrated on Sheba.
The dog gave me a knowing look, as though to say, I know he’s a great master, but he’s all mine, human. I scratched behind her big perked-up ears. If she jumped up on her rear legs she’d be almost as tall as me, yet, like her master, she was unfailingly gentle despite her power.
“Ranay?”
The soft tone of his voice made me close my eyes, even as I wanted to turn my face up to him and let my hunger show on my face. Hunger for him, for the control he wielded so effortlessly. I was already on my knees. It’d be so easy...
Too easy.
I buried my face against Sheba’s neck and made a sound I hoped he took for “Yes?”
“May I ask you a personal question?”
I clutched the big dog harder. She licked my cheek and made a low whuff in my ear. “Of course, Mr. MacNiall.”
“Mac,” he chided. “Hell, you could call me Charlie and I wouldn’t mind, though the only other person who called me that was Mom. I’ve been coming to Dr. Wentworth for a year and I’ve known you since the first day she hired you. Surely you can call me by my first name now?”
Had Dr. Wentworth talked to him about me? How much did she know about my past?
Considering she was Mom’s best friend, probably way more than I wanted her to know. But I was never late, I loved the animals and I was determined to do my best work every single day. I was holding it together. Nobody had any cause to suspect I might have a few screws loose. “Dr. Wentworth prefers for us to be professional at all times.”
“She calls me Mac. Why can’t you?”
I wished I’d never looked into Sheba’s human’s eyes. I wished I’d been able to crush that first hint of attraction. I wished he wasn’t such a dedicated pet owner, who brought Sheba in faithfully every month for grooming. I especially wished he’d never given me a hint of the kind of dominance he wielded so effortlessly. What that dominance could do for me.
How could I begin to explain it to him? If I cracked that door open even a little, the whole avalanche would slip free and bury me beneath roiling, uncontrollable emotion. It took all my will and effort to keep all that locked away so I could function. It’d taken me two years to get over the last man I’d dated.
Though dating wasn’t exactly the right word for that relationship.
“I have to get back to the front desk.” Without looking up, I pushed to my feet and carefully edged around him. Part of me hoped he would grab both my arms and haul me against him until I had no choice but to tell the truth. I refused to feel disappointed when he merely followed me to the front of the office.<
br />
I took my seat behind the high counter that walled me off from the world. I’d worked a long time to be able to communicate like a normal person. I had to for my job. But he’d always been different. If he looked too deeply into my eyes, he’d see all my secrets.
Instead, I studied his sweater, tracing the weave of each thread, the way the colors met and blended. That distracted me enough to answer him. “What do you want to know?”
He stared at me, waiting.
Oh God. This man was so dangerous. He knew how to play me. How to tempt me. I’d never talked to him about more than Sheba’s next appointment, but he knew the secrets I tried so hard to hide.
I didn’t want to let him in. I didn’t want to play his game.
That’s a lie. I want to play his game so badly I’m scared to death.
I’d been lying to myself. I threw out all my toys. I cut back on chatting in my favorite forums. I broke all contact with everyone I’d known in St. Paul before moving back home. I had a job and my own apartment. I fed myself and went to work every day and pretended everything was normal.
But I’m not okay. I’m not ever going to be okay. All he’s done is look at me and ask me an innocent question and I’m already slipping.
My muscles ached with strain. My body wanted to surrender and give him exactly what he wanted. There wasn’t any safe territory for me to play at mind or control games. My body had already decided it was his to command.
My mind was quivering with the need to be his slave. If he crooked his finger at me...
I gritted my teeth together. No. No!
For a moment, I was afraid I’d said it out loud. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth, though my heart pounded so hard I couldn’t understand whatever he said. My eyes burned from the heat coursing through my body. I wasn’t afraid of him, but if he didn’t stop, I’d humiliate myself in the office and lose my job. I fought to keep myself under control. To stay in my seat instead of sliding to my knees. But my mind was already picturing the way he’d look down at me as I unbuttoned his pants. I could almost taste his cock in my mouth. I swayed toward him.