On His Knees (Blasphemy)

by Laura Kaye

  “What?” Jamie collapsed back against the tile behind him. “W-what did you say?”

  Alex pulled Jamie down until they knelt face to face. “That I love you. And I was so scared that you might not love me back that I pushed you away at the slightest sign of trouble. God, I’m so fucking sorry.”

  “So, what does this mean?” Jamie asked quietly, the rain of the shower nearly drowning him out.

  “I’d like it to mean a second chance. What do you want it to mean?” Alex asked, his heart in Jamie’s hands. Where he hoped it might always be.

  Those gray eyes appraised him. “A second chance for…?”

  “For everything,” Alex said.

  “Everything,” Jamie whispered. “Together.”

  “Yes,” Alex said. “I want you as my partner, as my submissive, and as my friend. And I wouldn’t complain if you were my roommate either because I loved waking up with you in my arms. I’m looking for forever, Jamie.”

  “I want to be that for you,” Jamie said, swallowing thickly.

  “Oh, baby, don’t you understand yet? You already are.” Alex kissed him then, a sweet, slow, soul-healing kiss. It went on and on until they were breathless and the water went from hot to warm.

  “Let’s get you dried off and into some warm clothes. And Quinton brought coffee,” Alex said, needing to take care of Jamie the same way he needed his next breath.

  A few minutes later, they were dry and warm, dressed in borrowed clothing Kyler had left, sitting together on a bench in the locker room with cups of coffee in hand.

  Jamie was quiet for a long moment, and then he chuffed out a little laugh. “We fucked that up big time.”

  Alex laughed. He actually laughed. Which just a few short hours before would’ve been an utter impossibility. “Yeah, we really fucking did.”

  Shifting closer on the bench, Jamie finally met his gaze with eyes free of the agony that’d cast shadows there not long before. “But if we’re going for forever, here, there’s going to be fucking up.”

  Nodding, Alex took Jamie’s free hand. Because he couldn’t stop touching him, each caress proof that Jamie was here and okay. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

  “Which means that what’s really important is fighting through the fuck ups and coming out the other side.”

  So damn brave, this kid. “Yes. And I promise you I will always fight for you, Jamie. I’ll never leave you to fight on your own again.”

  “Then can we go home, Alex? Because I was so scared I’d lost you. And now that I know I didn’t, I just want to be with the man I love and have him hold me in his arms,” Jamie said.

  Alex was so overwhelmed by the way this night was turning out. Overwhelmed by Jamie and this love they’d found. He pulled Jamie up, and they made for the door. “Yes, baby, let’s go home. Because forever starts right now. And I’m never wasting another moment of it again.”

  Epilogue

  Love is Love is Love

  James Edward Fielding

  and

  Alexander Michael McGarry

  Invite you to share in the joy of their wedding day

  Saturday, the eleventh of August

  Two Thousand Eighteen

  At five o’clock in the evening

  Dinner and Dancing to Follow

  She’s Here!

  Catherina Noelle Fielding-McGarry

  Born May 1, 2019 in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

  Finally home on July 7, 2022

  Overjoyed, Jamie & Alex

  Acknowledgments

  I hope you enjoyed this newest story in the Blasphemy series! And I hope you’ll join my VIP Readers – because I’d love to share all kinds of fun exclusives with you!

  I adored writing Alex and Jamie’s story, and loved the process of self-discovery they both went through. Sometimes we all need to find that person who can help us understand who and what we are, or how to get to where we need to be. And I found that powerfully relatable as I was writing these characters.

  I have a number of people who I absolutely must thank! First, my very good author friends, Christi Barth and Lea Nolan, who selflessly threw themselves into commenting and proofreading and helping me make On His Knees shine. I love these ladies like sisters and appreciate all they do for me so much.

  I must also thank KP Simmon, who is an amazing giver of pep talks.

  Certainly, this book would not have been finished without the patience of my husband and kids, who encouraged me to go work and cheered me on when I finished. My family is an amazing source of support, and I couldn’t do what I love without them.

  Or without all of you. Thanks, as always, to my Heroes and my Reader Girls. And thank YOU, dear reader, for taking my characters into your heart and allowing them to tell their stories over and over again. ~LK

  Coming Soon from Laura Kaye…

  The Warrior Fight Club Series

  Starting with Fighting for Everything

  A new contemporary series of standalone romances about an MMA training club that helps veterans deal with PTSD and transition to civilian life.

  The first in this new series is coming May 22, 2018!

  Preorder Now!

  About Fighting for Everything

  Loving her is the biggest fight of his life…

  Home from the Marines, Noah Cortez has a secret he doesn’t want his oldest friend, Kristina Moore, to know. It kills him to push her away, especially when he’s noticing just how sexy and confident she’s become in his absence. But, angry and full of fight, he’s not the same man anymore either. Which is why Warrior Fight Club sounds so good.

  Kristina loves teaching, but she wants more out of life. She wants Noah—the boy she’s crushed on and waited for. Except Noah is all man now—in ways both oh so good and troubling, too. Still, she wants who he’s become—every war-hardened inch. And when they finally stop fighting their attraction, it’s everything Kristina never dared hope for.

  But Noah is secretly spiraling, and when he lashes out, it threatens what he and Kristina have found. The brotherhood of the fight club helps him confront his demons, but only Noah can convince the woman he loves that he’s finally ready to fight for everything.

  Preorder Now!

  About the Blasphemy Series

  About the Blasphemy Series – An erotic romance series of standalones…

  From the ruins of a church comes Baltimore’s most exclusive club

  12 Masters. Infinite Fantasies.

  Welcome to Blasphemy…

  Books In Series:

  HARD TO SERVE

  BOUND TO SUBMIT

  MASTERING HER SENSES

  EYES ON YOU

  THEIRS TO TAKE

  ON HIS KNEES

  Hard to Serve (Hard Ink #5.5/Blasphemy #.5)

  To protect and serve is all Detective Kyler Vance ever wanted to do, so when Internal Affairs investigates him as part of the new police commissioner’s bid to oust corruption, everything is on the line. Which makes meeting smart, gorgeous submissive, Mia Breslin, at an exclusive play club the perfect distraction. Their scorching scenes lure them to play together again and again. But then Kyler runs into Mia at work and learns that he’s been dominating the daughter of the hard-ass boss who has it in for him. Now Kyler must choose between life-long duty and forbidden desire before Mia finds another who’s not so hard to serve.

  Bound to Submit (Blasphemy #1) – FREE ON ALL RETAILERS

  He thinks he caused her pain, but she knows he’s the only one who can heal her…

  Kenna Sloane lost her career and her arm in the Marines, and now she feels like she’s losing herself. Submission is the only thing that ever freed her from pain and made her feel secure, and Kenna needs to serve again. Bad. The only problem is the Dom she wants once refused her submission and broke her heart, but, scarred on the inside and out, she’s not looking for love this time. She’s not even sure she’s capable. Griffin Hudson is haunted by the mistakes that cost him the only woman he ever loved. Now she’s ba
ck at his BDSM club, Blasphemy, and more beautiful than ever, and she’s asking for his help with the pain he knows he caused. Even though he’s scared to hurt her again, he can’t refuse her, because he’d give anything to earn a second chance. And this time, he’ll hold on forever.

  Mastering Her Senses (Blasphemy #2)

  He wants to dominate her senses—and her heart…

  Quinton Ross has always been a thrill-seeker—so it’s no surprise that he’s drawn to extremes in the bedroom and at his BDSM club, Blasphemy, where he creates sense-depriving scenarios that blow submissives’ minds. Now if he could just find one who needs the rush as much as him… Cassia Locke hasn’t played at Blasphemy since a caving accident left her with a paralyzing fear of the dark. Ready to fight, she knows just who to ask for help—the hard-bodied, funny-as-hell Dom she’d always crushed on—and once stood up. Quinton is shocked and a little leery to see Cassia, but he can’t pass up the chance to dominate the alluring little sub this time. Introducing her to sensory deprivation becomes his new favorite obsession, and watching her fight fear is its own thrill. But when doubt threatens to send her running again, Quinton must find a way to master her senses—and her heart.

  Eyes on You (Blasphemy #3)

  She wants to explore her true desires, and he wants to watch…

  When a sexy stranger asks Wolf Henrikson to rescue her from a bad date, he never expected to want the woman for himself. But their playful conversation turns into a scorching one-night stand that reveals the shy beauty gets off on the idea of being seen, even if she’s a little scared of it, too. And Wolf loves to watch. In the wake of discovering her fiancé’s infidelity, florist Olivia Foster never expected to find someone who not only understood her wildest, darkest fantasies, but would bring them to life. As Wolf introduces her to his world at the play club, Blasphemy, Liv finds herself tempted to explore submission and exhibitionism with the hard-bodied Dom even as she’s scared to trust again. But Wolf is a master of getting what he wants—and he’s got his eyes set on her…

  Theirs to Take (Blasphemy #4)

  She’s they’ve always wanted to share…

  Best friends Jonathan Allen and Cruz Ramos share almost everything—a history in the Navy, their sailboat building and restoration business, and the desire to dominate a woman together, which they do at Baltimore’s exclusive club, Blasphemy. Now if they could find someone who wants to play for keeps…All Hartley Farren has in the world is the charter sailing business she inherited from her beloved father. So when a storm damages her boat, she throws herself on the mercy of business acquaintances to do the repairs—stat. She never expected to find herself desiring the sexy, hard-bodied builders, but being around Jonathan and Cruz reminds Hartley of how much she longs for connection. If only she could decide which man she wants to pursue more…As their attraction flashes hot, Jonathan and Cruz determine to have Hartley for their own. But the men’s erotic world is new and overwhelming, and Hartley’s unsure if she could really submit to being both of theirs to take…forever.

  On His Knees (Blasphemy #5)

  Getting on his knees makes him question everything…and want even more…

  Another failed relationship has lawyer Jamie Fielding confronting the truth—he’ll never be satisfied with any woman until he admits what he needs…to submit and to be used—hard. When a friend invites him to the exclusive Blasphemy club, Jamie is stunned to find everything he ever wanted—in the fierce, ruthless hands of a man. Psychiatrist Alex McGarry will play with anyone who craves his rough brand of domination, but what he really wants is to settle down. Which makes the submissive male he meets at his club a bad idea—the man might be hot as hell but he’s also new to everything Alex has to offer. Except that doesn’t keep them from coming together again and again, sating every one of their darkest desires. Master Alex sets Jamie’s whole world on fire and makes him question everything—and that’s good. Because Alex won’t tolerate hiding what they have for long and he wants much more than just having Jamie on his knees...

  Need more Masters?: Meet Master Griffin in

  BOUND TO SUBMIT

  As Kenna Sloane stood on the stage in front of the applauding audience, one word kept echoing through her brain.

  Fraud.

  Fraudfraudfraud.

  Keeping the smile plastered on her face, she looked out over the ballroom full of women from a local business and professional organization.

  Since being medically discharged from the United States Marine Corps two years before, Kenna had become something of a motivational speaker. She didn’t feel particularly motivational or inspirational, for that matter, and she certainly hadn’t set out to be any such thing.

  It had started when her physical therapist at Walter Reed asked her to speak a few times to the new amputees. And then her nephew’s teacher invited her to speak to his school assembly around Veteran’s Day. One of the kid’s fathers turned out to be a reporter for the local paper who pushed her to do a story until she finally agreed. Though the Baltimore Sun wasn’t just any local paper. It was big. And so was the story. After it ran, the invitations came in from all over. And though some part of her always resisted agreeing, another part wondered how she could consider turning them down.

  Because she was alive when others weren’t. She could share their stories when they couldn’t tell them themselves. She could perhaps offer other veterans and their families the hope that was so hard to grasp onto in those early months after a serious injury.

  It was her duty. One way she could continue to serve. The only way she could continue to serve.

  The long minutes after her speech passed in a blur of congratulations on her talk and introductions to dignitaries in the audience.

  “Thank you for your service, Miss Sloane.”

  “Fantastic speech, Kenna. Truly inspirational.”

  “You’re a real survivor, Miss Sloane. Thank you for sharing your story.”

  Kenna was grateful for everyone’s appreciation—being thanked for her service and sacrifice meant a lot. But it was also hard to hear sometimes.

  Hard to hear because so often—too often—she felt like such a damn fraud.

  Everyone thought she’d adjusted so well—to the loss of her career, to the loss of her best friend in the Corps, to the loss of her right forearm and hand—but on the inside, she felt like a disaster. Grief, regret, guilt. And so much pain that sometimes she had to give into the promising lure of the narcotics her doctor prescribed.

  She should be stronger. She should be able to fight all this. She was a damn Marine—and always would be, whether she still wore the uniform or not. At least, that’s what she tried to remind herself.

  “How did it go?” Sierra asked through the car speaker phone not five minutes after Kenna pulled out of the hotel’s downtown Baltimore lot. Her sister was one of the few people who understood even a little of the inner turmoil Kenna tried to keep hidden from the world.

  “Fine. Good. It was a nice crowd,” Kenna said, her hands at ten and two on the steering wheel. One hand real, the other hand part of her myoelectric prosthesis. The hand was matte black and connected to a black and silver forearm shaft that cradled and covered the small stump of forearm that remained. Her gaze dropped for just a moment to the way the almost skeletal-looking fingers wrapped around the wheel.

  Be thankful for what you have.

  Because the prosthetic’s cost of over fifty thousand dollars had been mostly, and generously, covered by a foundation.

  “You there, Kenna?” Sierra asked.

  “Yeah, sorry. How’s Jake?”

  “He’s good,” her sister said, a smile clear in her tone. “He lost a tooth at school today and I’m waiting to make sure he’s asleep so I can play tooth fairy.”

  As Kenna maneuvered through Baltimore traffic, she couldn’t help the small smile that crept up her face. “How much does a tooth earn these days?”

  Sierra chuckled. “I’m giving him two bucks. The little bugger’
s losing teeth so frequently lately that I’m half convinced he’s yanking them out for the cash. How was physical therapy? Didn’t you have an appointment this morning?”

  And there went that smile. Kenna didn’t question the effectiveness of physical therapy—the muscles in her residual limb were stronger, which enhanced her ability to control the movement of the prosthetic—it operated in part based on the electrical signals her remaining muscles generated. She also had more mobility in her right shoulder, and her neck and upper back pain had improved a lot.

  But physical therapy also left her arm fatigued and her body emotionally drained. And an intense session always seemed to exacerbate her phantom pain for a night or three after.

  “It was fine. Good.” Kenna merged into the right lane and turned.

  “That’s the same thing you said about your speech,” Sierra said, her tone easy-going but obviously concerned.

  Despite the light touch her sister tried to use, the comment still tripped Kenna’s shorter-than-usual temper. “What the hell do you want me to say, Si? That I’m exhausted? That I’m randomly driving around right now to avoid going home because I know the second I lay down the phantom pain will start, and I’ll have to grit my teeth through it all night in order to resist downing more pain killers? Which don’t always work anyway. That I’m terrified that the pain will never go away and I won’t be able to carry it, and I’m terrified that it will go away and how can I deserve that when George is dead? That every time I give a speech it makes the fear worse because now all these fucking people think I’m some kind of hero which means when I finally crash and burn they’ll all know I never deserved their praise and applause in the first place? Is that what you want to hear?” By the time Kenna finished the tirade she was breathing hard and shaking, her eyes dry as always. Why couldn’t she have a good cry and feel better like a normal person?