by Liliana Hart
COOPER
By Liliana Hart
Copyright 2011 by Liliana Hart
Amazon Edition
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Chapter One
Club Dominique was for members only—one of the most exclusive BDSM clubs in the state that catered to an elite clientele who preferred a little something extra with their sex.
So Cooper MacKenzie was thoroughly confused when he came through the private entrance of his club and saw Claire Drexel looking like she belonged there. His gaze had been drawn to her instantly. Like always. Dammit.
He stood in the doorway of the long hallway that all the VIP members used to enter or exit the club, just observing. The dance floor was dark and strobes of light were the only way to see the writhing bodies moving to the beat of the thrumming bass coming from the speakers. Drinks were passed around freely and leather and chains decorated almost every body, including his. Including Claire’s.
When had she gotten curves like that? Her breasts spilled out the top of the bustier-style leather top she wore, and the skirt that matched stopped just short of indecent. She wore leather boots that laced to her thighs and were spiked with five inch heels. He felt his lungs seize and remembered he needed to breathe.
Maybe he’d been mistaken. Maybe that wasn’t Claire after all. She shook his head as if to clear his vision, but she was still there. Considering he saw Claire at least a couple of times a week—working at the library, grocery shopping or jogging around the park— he had a pretty good idea what she looked like. And he was pretty damned sure that was her.
She was young, too young for the thoughts that popped into his mind whenever he felt himself looking in her direction. He’d been looking in her direction—though not doing anything about it—since she was eighteen years old. Tonight was no different. She was still as stunning and exotic as she always was. And his body still thrummed with heated excitement whenever he saw her.
Her black hair was cut pixie short so it sleeked against her head like a silky cap. Her curves were lush and had caused him break out in cold sweats in the middle of the night on more than one occasion. Razor sharp cheekbones hinted at the Native American blood that ran through her veins, and her skin looked as if it had been sprinkled with gold dust. Her lips were slicked with red and her eyes were like black onyx and made up exotically.
With her stunning looks, it was no surprise she wasn’t alone. She sat on the lap of Rafael Morda, her arm draped around his neck and her legs crossed, giving a minute amount of decency to the leather table napkin she wore. Rafael’s section was roped off and elevated on a dais so he could lord over the rest of the club. Special lighting illuminated the VIP’s so those on the bottom level could see everything they were missing out on.
Morda touched her exposed thigh in slow circles where her skirt ended and the leather boots began, and Cooper saw red.
What the hell did she think she was doing? She was a librarian for God’s sake. He started towards her with every intention of making a scene and hauling her ass back to Surrender. He could probably think of a reason to throw her into the jail for the night and keep her out of trouble. No one would question his decision. He was the sheriff.
“How’s it hangin’, Coop?” Renegade, the owner of the club asked, interrupting his well laid plans. “We’ve got a nice selection of subs for you to choose from. Fresh meat. And they’re all lookin’ for someone to master them. There’s an energy in the air tonight, man. I don’t know how to explain it.”
Renegade’s eerily colored yellow eyes were enhanced by some kind of chemical substance. Cooper knew exactly what was in the air. All hell was about to break loose. And Claire had planted herself right in the middle of it.
He looked over Renegade’s shoulder and picked out an undercover female DEA agent making her sub lick her boots, and he found a state police officer making out in the corner of the dance floor. Ahh, what they wouldn’t do for the job. And then he caught the eye of the Special Agent in Charge of this whole operation, sitting at the bar nursing a beer and ignoring the women who were practically throwing themselves in his very dangerous path.
Cade MacKenzie made Cooper look like a teddy bear on his best days. Cade was Cooper’s first cousin and the reason he was involved in this whole mess to begin with. Cade’s mouth quirked at the corner and he tipped his beer in Cooper’s direction.
Bastard.
Cade MacKenzie was going to owe him a hell of a favor once they had Morda behind bars where he belonged. All they had to do was catch the bastard and seize the merchandise. You’d think it would be simple, but Morda had slipped through their fingers for three years.
When Cade had approached him asking if he’d like to be a part of the undercover team to take down Rafael Morda—along with other hand selected members from all different areas of law enforcement—Cooper had been all for it. It had given him a life outside of Surrender, Montana, and it put him in the middle of a sexual climate he happened to enjoy. Or used to enjoy.
Three years in Club Dominique had given him a taste of the freedom he’d wanted and a yearning for the mundane he’d once been bored by. He was getting too old for this shit. The things he’d been a part of in his twenties lacked appeal now that he was in his thirties. And some of the women in this place were just damned crazy.
He shot Cade a narrowed look and sighed tiredly, turning his attention back to Renegade.
“You know me, Ren. I’m always looking for a good sub. Though I think I’m looking for something a little different tonight.” Cooper grabbed a beer off a passing tray and took a long pull. “But you’re right. There is something in the air tonight.”
When he’d first started coming to Club Dominique, Renegade was a man who’d taken his job seriously. He’d protected his clients identities and their safety—especially the safety of the subs, or submissives. Each member went through an extensive background check and anything shady was dealt with by dismissal from the club. The DEA had given Cooper a fake identity and all the paperwork to go with it so he could go undercover. He sometimes had moments when he wasn’t sure who the hell he was.
But he’d developed a friendship of sorts with Renegade because it had become obvious real quick that something was going on inside Club Dominique. And Cooper was willing to bet that Morda had paid Renegade off handsomely to use the club as a drop spot for the drugs that had been trafficking through Montana and across the Canadian Border.
“Who’s the girl sitting on Morda’s lap?” Cooper asked, wondering what name Claire had given at the door.
“Her name’s Vixen. Don’t she have the finest tits you ever seen? I thought about taking her for a spin for myself, but I watched her awhile and decided to pass. You don’t want to go there if you’re lookin’ for a good sub, my friend. Look at the fire in her eyes. She’s not interested in Morda. His lap just happens to be the best place to check out the action. See how she’s scanning the club. There’s no way she’s a sub. She’s looking for a challenge.”
Cooper controlled the natural instinct to bash Renegade’s face in at his crude appraisal of Claire. He needed to get out of this place, he thought again.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Coop said. “She’s not a member.”
“No. She’s a guest of Angel’s.”
Cooper gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes in annoyance. Angel had been one of his previous lovers, which meant tha
t Claire had befriended her purposefully for the sake of tracking him here. He knew Claire had had a crush on him when she was a kid. It was hard not to notice those dark eyes following him everywhere he went. It didn’t matter that somewhere along the way he’d started watching her as well.
That didn’t mean he was comfortable with it. He was ten years older than she was. And Claire had no idea what kind of trouble she was asking for in a place like this. Which was fairly obvious since she’d decided to make her first attempt at seduction on one of the most notorious drug lords in the country. When he got hold of her, he was going to paddle her ass good.
He caught Cade’s gesture from the corner of his eye and narrowed his eyes. Cade had obviously recognized Claire as well and wanted him to get her alone so she could be questioned about the conversation Morda was currently having with the two gentlemen seated across from him.
“I want her,” Coop decided, trying to think of a way to get her out of Morda’s clutches and isolated.
His cock throbbed with the words he’d been denying himself the last few years. Want didn’t begin to describe his feelings for Claire. The intensity of his feelings scared the hell out of him.
“I don’t want anyone else touching her. Pass the word around and put one of the private rooms on my tab.” A private room was the only place in the club they’d have any privacy.
Renegade laughed until tears ran down his cheeks. “You gonna steal her from Morda?” Renegade slapped him on the back and almost fell over laughing. Cooper just stared at him and waited for the storm to pass.
“He’ll kill your ass, man.”
Cooper shrugged it off. “He’s not interested in her. You can tell by his body language. He hasn’t even looked at her since she’d been sitting there. She’s the most beautiful woman in the room, so Morda automatically thinks that she should belong to him. But Morda doesn’t like women who won’t cower in his presence. And this woman won’t ever cower before anyone. Look at the defiance in her eyes. She’ll be a hell of a challenge to tame.”
“Whatever you say, my man. I’ll pass the word around, and then I’ll come to your funeral.” Renegade slapped him on the shoulder and moved closer so he wouldn’t have to shout his words over the bass coming from the speakers. “Word of caution, my friend. A little birdie told me we have a cop in the house tonight. I’m shutting down the club at midnight instead of two, so you’d better tame her fast and then get the hell out. Things is likely to get ugly. Like I said, there’s something in the air.”
Cooper kept his expression completely blank as he thanked Renegade for the warning and watched the man walk away.
Son of a bitch. They’d been compromised. He scanned the room again and scratched at a spot just below his ear. Cade obviously caught his signal because he was off the bar stool and blending into the crowd before Cooper could blink. He trusted that Cade would take care of warning the rest of the team of possible danger. Now Cooper only had to worry about Claire.
He had no idea why she’d decided to track him to this particular club at this particular time, but if Claire Drexel was so curious to find out about the life he lead, then she was about to get an education she’d never forget.
***
Claire knew Cooper had spotted her the minute he’d walked into the club. If she hadn’t been able to tell by his angry stance—the way he leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed over his massive bare chest or the way he stared at her with those glacier chip eyes—she would have been able to tell just by the way her body started tingling. Cooper MacKenzie always made her body tingle.
She’d been in love with him since she was fourteen years old. Since he’d been twenty-four at the time, he’d obviously had no interest in her crush. He probably hadn’t even known her name. Most people in town just knew her as the youngest of the Drexel pack. Since there were eight Drexel children, she could understand how it might be hard to remember everyone’s name. It was sometimes hard for her parents too.
Claire hadn’t been like the other girls in town who’d chased after the MacKenzie boys. She’d been quiet and shy as a kid, so she’d watched Cooper from afar and observed. And when she’d gotten older, she’d paid attention to the rumors that were whispered about him and his preference for sex of the unconventional sort. She’d had no idea at the time what that meant. And in all honesty, she still didn’t know the full aspects of what went on in places like this. Since she’d never had sex before, she was still a bit shady on a few of the more pertinent details.
She might not have firsthand knowledge about sex, but she had made it her business to find out the things that might please a man with Cooper’s appetites. She was a champion researcher. Now if only she had the courage to go through with this harebrained scheme of hers in reality, as opposed to only reading about it. She’d known Cooper was meant for her from the moment she was old enough to see the dark intent in his eyes whenever he looked at her. She could do no more than be ready to give him exactly what he wanted when the time came.
And the time was now.
But if this Neanderthal who’d pulled her onto his lap and told her he was a very important man didn’t stop squeezing her thigh, she was going to accidentally elbow him in his perfect Roman nose and chip his perfectly capped teeth.
She scanned the crowd, trying to keep one eye on Cooper, one ear on the very interesting conversation her lap buddy was having, and the other eye searching for a way to escape to the dance floor.
The Neanderthal started rubbing her thigh just above her boots and she saw Cooper move from the wall like he was going to come to her rescue, but a giant of a man with skin the color of dark chocolate and hair the color of butter cream frosting intercepted before he’d taken a step. Claire let out a sigh of disgust. Where were all the damned knights in shining armor in this place?
She watched as a man was lead by a leash on hands and knees across the floor and had to fake a cough to keep from giggling. Clearly she’d have to rescue herself. She watched Cooper out of the corner of her eye and felt heat rush over her skin as his gaze seemed to devour her. He barely stopped to glance at his companion at all, and she could tell by the way they were both watching her that she was the topic of conversation. At least her plan for getting Cooper to notice her was working. Kind of. The Neanderthal had been unscripted.
If she’d waited for Cooper to approach her in Surrender, she’d be a grandmother before she saw any action. Whenever she saw him in town, his eyes darkened and skimmed over her body, and then he made it a point to turn away. She knew he was uncomfortable about their age difference. It was pretty obvious since when he was forced to actually speak with her, he addressed her as ‘Hey, kid.’ She had a Master’s Degree for Pete’s sake, and she’d been well above the legal age for some time now. It was a good thing she liked a challenge, but enough was enough. Cooper’s days of running were over.
“Let’s dance,” Angel shouted to her from across the rope that kept the Very Important Neanderthal (or VIN as she’d decided to call him for short) separated from the commoners.
Thank God for Angel.
She moved to get off VIN, but he grabbed her around the wrist and tried to pull her back. “You must always ask your Master permission to leave his presence. There will be consequences if you do not obey.”
His accent was thick and foreign and his eyes were flat. This was not a man to piss off, her subconscious was practically screaming at her. But her mouth didn’t always listen to her subconscious. She blamed it on the years she spent buried in books instead of getting out and socializing more. She hadn’t learned to carry on a decent conversation without stumbling over her words in nervousness until she’d been in college.
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to happen,” she said. “I’ve never been really good at the obedience thing. Maybe you should try that girl over there.” She pointed to a waif thin woman who was eating gourmet hors d’oeuvres out of a dog bowl.
When his gaze followed her finger,
she took the opportunity to scramble out of his lap and down the carpeted stairs that led to the dance floor. She grabbed Angel in a quick hug of thanks and they joined the ebb and flow of bodies.
They danced together out of pure enjoyment, legs and hips and arms moving in tandem to the pumping bass. They ignored the groping hands that occasionally passed their way and danced for themselves.
Angel had been her roommate her freshman year of college, and they’d been close ever since. Angel was one of the sweetest people she’d ever met, so it made sense that she was one of the more popular subs in a place like Club Dominique. Her skin was silky smooth and the color of mocha and her corkscrew curls were a shade darker.
It was because of Angel that Claire had found out about the kind of lover Cooper really was. The things he liked in bed and liked to do to his partners. It had been hard to control the jealousy that surfaced whenever Angel had talked of Cooper, but like always, Claire had focused on the research and learned more about how she might one day please Cooper. Fortunately, Cooper and Angel’s relationship hadn’t lasted more than a few weeks, so she hadn’t had to murder Angel in her sleep.
Angel grabbed her hand and spun her out into a turn that made applause break out around them, but when she spun her back in, something solid and hard was in Claire’s path. She stared eye level at a muscled chest of pure perfection. It was completely smooth and gold rings were pierced through both nipples. The thought of what those rings would feel like against her body sent a shiver across her skin.
The music changed to something slow and sultry, the bass pumped a seductive tattoo and the smell of lust lay heavy over the bodies on the dance floor. She raised her gaze slowly, taking in every inch of him until she met eyes the color of a cold lake, frosted with chips of ice.
Claire rested her hands against his chest, just below his nipple rings, and watched his eyes darken with desire.
