by Julia Sykes
TARGET
RENEGADE #1
By Julia Sykes
Copyright © 2015 by Julia Sykes
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
julia-sykes.com
Chapter 1
Lissa
You’re doing the right thing. This is what you want, a little voice that wasn’t quite my own whispered through my mind. I gave a short nod of agreement.
The yearning to explore this taboo lifestyle had been building in me over the last few weeks. It appeared out of nowhere, but it quickly bore down on me with burning insistence.
You have to do this, the voice pressed.
Yes, I agreed.
My date was waiting for me outside the club. That is, if you could call a man you met on an internet kink site a “date.” I wasn’t exactly sure of the correct terminology.
Dominant. He’s a Dom.
Whether or not he was my Dom had yet to be determined. He seemed nice based on the messages we’d exchanged. He’d even suggested we meet in a public space so I would know he was legitimate.
Safe, Sane, Consensual. That was what I’d read online. Meeting up with Master C at Dusk was the safe choice. Even Alik, my therapist, agreed.
Alik told me to come. He knows what’s best for me.
“Lucy?” I heard, but I didn’t answer. “Lucy.” He was sterner this time. Strong fingers closed around my elbow, halting my progress toward the club entrance. I blinked and turned my attention to the speaker. Deep brown eyes looked down at me, narrowed in disapproval.
Oh, crap. That’s me. I wasn’t used to responding to my online name.
“Sorry,” I apologized quickly. “Yes, I’m Lucy. You’re Master C?” My eyes roved over him, and feminine approval warmed my insides. He was every bit as sexy as his picture: the very definition of tall, dark, and handsome. The darkness extended deeper than his outer appearance. Something sinful stirred in his eyes as he appraised me.
“I am,” he affirmed. His arm wrapped around my waist, his long fingers curling into the silky material of my little black dress. Heat flashed through my system in response to the possessive touch. My mouth went dry, and I simply stared up at him, my lips slightly parted. His smirk deepened, and I couldn’t help but find it incredibly sexy. His arrogance should be galling, but it made my clit pulse. I remembered the forbidden things he had promised to do to me in his messages, and my body responded with greater lust than I had ever known.
“I already told the bouncer I’m bringing you as my guest,” he continued, issuing the words with slow confidence. “Come.” He resumed our progress toward the club, guiding me along beside him with his firm grip on my waist.
Say something, I commanded myself. It wasn’t at all like me to turn into a mute idiot, not even around a man as gorgeous as this one.
“Do you come here often, then?” I asked, a touch breathlessly.
“Just over the last month or so. I haven’t publically explored the lifestyle until recently.”
“Oh. Were you worried about your job or something?” I understood that. If it got out that I frequented BDSM clubs, it would ruin my aspirations for a political career.
“Yes. That’s why.” The smirk lingered on his lips, as though he was enjoying a private joke. I wasn’t entirely certain it wasn’t at my expense.
Budding indignation helped me regain some of my usual composure. I straightened my shoulders and stepped up my pace, pulling free from his hold on me.
“What do you do?” I asked, more coolly than before.
He flashed a mocking grin. “You don’t ask questions like that in the lifestyle. I’ll tell you if I decide I want to.”
I bristled, annoyed with his condescension. And also more than a little embarrassed that I had committed some sort of faux pas.
“Okay,” I said slowly. “I didn’t know. I’m pretty new to all this.”
He sighed. “It’s about trust. I don’t really know you. If you accept me as your Dom, we’ll share more personal information.”
I already shared a lot of personal information, I thought, remembering how I had told him about my plans to attend Columbia Law in the fall. Not to mention the deeply personal fantasies I divulged.
I bit my tongue against a tart response.
He caught my waist again, pulling me up against him with firm insistence. “Relax.” His hot breath teased across my neck as he issued the low command. I couldn’t suppress a shiver. Even though he was beginning to irritate me, my body responded to him. I wasn’t at all sure I was comfortable with the sensation. It felt like my body was betraying me; it wasn’t like me to lose control.
That’s what you’re here for, the voice reminded me. To give up control. Give him a chance.
I relaxed, softening against Master C. He squeezed my hip in a show of approval. Heat pooled between my legs. The sensation was strange, but not unwelcome. It reassured me that I was doing the right thing.
My confidence returning, I allowed Master C to steer me toward the entrance to Dusk.
We stepped up to a bouncer, who nodded at Master C in recognition. The heavily-muscled man opened the door for us, and I crossed the threshold into a different world. Based on first appearances, we might have entered a Goth bar, but the sounds of pleasure and pain that filtered in from the next room belied that. The open space was dotted with high tables where patrons could stand and rest their drinks, and crimson leather couches created a more intimate seating area in the far corner. An ebony bar gleamed darkly under the colored lights that illuminated the room in sensuous red hues.
A high scream cut through the heavy black velvet curtain that separated the bar area and the dungeon. Jarred by the sound, I missed a step. Master C caught me around the waist as I stumbled, easily holding me upright until I found my balance again.
“You okay?” he asked, his tone low and mocking.
Irritation set my teeth on edge, but I shook it off. “Fine.” I stepped out of his hold. I tore my thoughts from what might be going on behind that curtain and focused on putting one foot in front of the other.
“I don’t think you’re ready to go back there yet,” Master C said condescendingly.
I considered snapping back, but he was likely right. I walked toward the couches, keeping distance between our bodies. If Master C wanted to touch me again, he would have to earn that right.
Apparently, he didn’t agree. He sat down beside me, getting right into my personal space. He regarded me intently, and for a moment I thought he was going to apologize for being rude.
“While we’re here, you will not speak without my permission,” he issued an edict instead.
I stiffened. “I don’t know if I’m comfortable with—”
His hand clamped over my mouth. Shock made me try to fight free, but his arm wrapped around my back, trapping me in place. Years of training kicked in, and I lashed out. I shoved my left hand against his face, pushing him away so I could drive the heel of my right palm into his solar plexus.
He reeled back, clutching at his chest and wheezing.
Horror struck me. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” I hadn’t liked his manhandling me, but I didn’t mean to actually hurt him. Instinct had taken over.
“Bitch!” he managed to gasp.
I went cold, all remorse leaving me. No way was I going to stay with an ass who thought it was okay to curse at me, even if I had provoked him. There was no excuse for such disrespect. “I’m going now,” I told him. “Don’t bother messaging me again.”
I turned to leave, but his hand closed around my upper arm, stopping me with bruising force.
“You’
re not going anywhere until you apologize,” he hissed.
I stared at him levelly. “I’ll give you three seconds to let go of me.”
His fingers tightened. “Or what?”
“One,” I began, letting the word hang in the air like a threat. His lips curled back in a snarl. I raised an eyebrow. “Two.”
“Three,” a new voice rumbled. A large, masculine hand closed around my captor’s wrist, squeezing. Master C cried out and released me. My savior wasn’t satisfied. He twisted Master C’s arm behind his back, pulling upward until my would-be Dom fell to his knees with a low grunt of pain.
“Are you okay?” The man asked me, ignoring Master C’s curses. My eyes flicked up to find his sapphire ones. They blazed with barely-restrained fury.
“Yes,” I said, slightly breathless from the sudden turn of events.
He gave me a curt nod, and his gaze hardened as it returned to Master C. “I’m going to let you up, and you’re going to leave. You’ll never come to this club again.”
“Motherfucker!”
The blue-eyed man frowned and increased the pressure on his arm. Master C howled.
“Do you understand me?” my savior prompted.
“Fuck! Okay!”
He released Master C, who cradled his arm against his chest, rubbing it with a grimace.
“Get up.” The man’s command cracked through the air with a sharp edge of disdain.
Master C scowled at him, but did as he was told. His glare riveted to me, and I assumed an aggressive stance. I wouldn’t allow him to get a hold on me again.
“Crazy bitch,” he muttered before he stalked away toward the exit.
“Do you want to kick the shit out of him for that, or shall I?” The blue-eyed man drawled.
I gave him a wry smile. “I think you’ve humiliated him enough. He’s leaving. I’m happy with that.”
He shook his head, and some of his golden hair fell across his eyes. He pushed it back with an air of practiced confidence. It was the gesture of a man who knew his own good looks. I stared at him, truly taking him in for the first time. With his deep blue eyes, high cheekbones, and stubble-covered square jaw, he certainly deserved the slightly cocky aura he exuded. One corner of his full lips ticked up as he caught me appraising him.
I flushed and focused on his eyes again. A playful light had replaced the anger that simmered there only moments earlier.
“You’re more forgiving than I am,” he said. “Just say the word, and I’ll go teach him a lesson about treating subs with proper respect.”
“You don’t have to do that. But thanks for offering.” I didn’t want to give Master C the satisfaction of thinking he deserved a moment more of my time. Even if that moment would end with his nose getting broken.
“And thanks for helping out,” I added.
His lips tilted up in a small smile. “I’m pretty sure you could have handled him on your own. Nice move, by the way. Krav Maga?”
“Five days a week,” I confirmed.
His eyes flicked over my body for half a second, a brief appraisal that betrayed no sensuous intent. “He didn’t hurt you,” he said as a statement of fact.
Abruptly, he sat down on the couch where Master C had tried to trap me. He patted the cushion beside him. “Come sit with me.” It wasn’t a request.
I hesitated. I didn’t dislike this man, but I had just reacted badly when in close proximity to a Dom. Sitting near him probably wasn’t the best idea.
Perfect white teeth flashed in a sharp smile. “I won’t bite.”
“I’m not worried about that,” I countered, crossing my arms over my chest.
He regarded me earnestly. “You don’t need to be worried about anything. I just want to talk. Nothing else.” He held up his hands in a show of good faith.
I sighed, my embarrassment over my violent behavior resurfacing. “I’m worried I’ll hurt you,” I admitted. “I’m a little on edge. I didn’t mean to hit Master C.”
His dark brows drew together. “He has no right to call himself Master. And if you do lash out, I assure you I can defend myself.”
My gaze found his body again, honing in on his corded arms. His muscles bulged against the tight black t-shirt he wore.
“I’m sure you could,” I said faintly, not realizing that I spoke the words aloud.
His deep chuckle made my eyes snap back to his. Bright blue flames danced in their depths.
“So we’re in agreement,” he declared. “You can sit with me and not worry about beating me up by accident.”
I stared at him for several seconds, debating. I really should leave Dusk. The entire evening was a disaster. But something about the powerful man sitting before me, occupying the couch like a throne, made my stomach flutter. Like the giddy, nervous energy I used to feel before Taekwondo meets as a child. Only there was a decidedly adult edge to the sensation.
He stared right back, patiently waiting. Expectant. His self-assured posture told me he didn’t need to manhandle me to get me right where he wanted me. That made my sex pulse hotter than it ever had for Master C.
I blew out a breath, making a false show of resignation as I carefully settled down beside him. His smirk told me he saw right through me; I wanted to be closer to him. To feel the warmth of his skin pulsing against mine. To sample his unique masculine scent. To trace the contours of his muscles with my tongue…
“Are you all right?” His pointed question jerked me out of my fantasy.
“I’m fine.” I cut my eyes away, mortified at my lustful behavior.
“You’re welcome to look if you want. I don’t mind.” His voice was thick with amusement.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I still couldn’t bring myself to look directly at him.
Strong fingers touched beneath my chin, guiding my face back to his. His eyes glinted with disapproval.
“I don’t tolerate lies,” he told me, his tone colder than before.
“I’m sorry.” The apology tumbled out of my mouth without a thought. I didn’t like upsetting people. Well, not unless they deserved it. And all this man had done was help me.
He held his hard gaze for a few long seconds, pinning me in place with the weight of his censure. Then he nodded in approval, and I sucked in a relieved breath.
“Trust is the most important component in any BDSM relationship. Lies prevent trust.”
“Oh,” I said, a bit stupidly. “Sorry. I’m new to all this.” Master C had talked about trust, but he used it to justify keeping secrets from me. My savior’s face was open and earnest. Trustworthy.
“It’s okay to admit you find me attractive,” he continued. Calloused fingertips traced the line of my jaw, and he leaned closer to me. His hard thigh brushed against mine, and his warm breath teased across my skin. “I’m attracted to you, little sub.”
“Lissa,” I breathed. “My name’s Lissa.”
“That’s a very pretty name. I’m Ian. It’s nice to meet you, Lissa.”
I couldn’t look away from the pleased curve of his lips. He seemed to savor my name, rolling it on his tongue. It sounded deliciously sinful. I wanted to taste it.
Without realizing what I was doing, I closed the distance between us, boldly pressing my lips to his. He stilled in surprise, but a hunger I’d never known before gripped me. I wasn’t giving up so easily. My hands slid into his hair, and the thick, silken strands sliding over my skin made my fingertips crackle with electricity. He tasted like sex and dark chocolate. I moaned against his mouth with wanton abandon, tugging him closer with my grip on his hair.
Finally, he responded with sensual aggression. His low growl rumbled deep inside my body, thrumming all the way down to vibrate through my sex. His teeth nipped at my bottom lip, and I gasped at the little bite of pain. He took advantage of my open mouth, thrusting his tongue in to taste mine, to tame it.
Long fingers closed around my wrists, extricating them from his hair and guiding them behind my back with firm insi
stence. He secured them there with one hand while the other tangled in my locks, fisting the honey strands hard enough to light up my scalp with little sparks of pain. They sizzled down my spine, reaching between my legs to dance across my clit.
Acting without thought, I pressed myself up against him, rubbing my breasts against his chest. I hated the barrier of our clothes between us; I craved to stimulate my aching nipples.
He drew back slightly to give me a moment to suck in a breath. But I didn’t want a reprieve. I wanted more.
“Ian,” I groaned his name softly. It felt right on my lips.
His hands left my wrists and hair to grip my shoulders. I expected him to pull me close, but instead he pushed me away. I tried to lean into him anyway.
“No,” he commanded roughly.
I stopped short, confusion mingling with the lust that clouded my mind. “What? Why?”
He stood quickly, putting space between us. My eyes focused on the obvious erection that strained against his leathers. I licked my lips.
He grunted in irritation. I blinked hard and looked up to find that annoyance etched into his downturned features. Rejection and humiliation instantly burned the back of my throat.
“Did I do something wrong?” I asked, my voice small. “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he reassured me, but his clipped tone was far from comforting. “I shouldn’t have—” He cut himself off. “I have to go.”
“Wait,” I beseeched, unable to stop myself from extending a hand toward him. He stepped out of my reach.
“Goodbye, Lissa.”
His heat receded as he stomped away, leaving chill air in his wake. The cold seeped through my skin, freezing my insides. It helped dispel the last of the lustful warmth from my body.
What the hell just happened? The woman who had kissed Ian was nothing like my usual composed self. I had lost all control and thrown myself at him. It was embarrassing, pathetic. No wonder he left.
This is what happens when you give up control. Coming to Dusk had been a huge mistake.