by Lynda Aicher
Bonds of Trust
By Lynda Aicher
After ending her passionless marriage, Cali Reynolds is eager to live out her forbidden fantasies. Her first step is attending new members’ night at The Den, the most exclusive sex club in town. Perhaps here she can find a man who understands her desire to be dominated…
At first, Jake McCallister thinks Cali has come to his club for the wrong reasons. But when he discovers she is seeking fulfillment after years of denial, he’s intrigued—and takes it upon himself to initiate her into the pleasures she’s been missing.
Her first encounter with Jake is everything Cali has always craved, and more; she’s not prepared for the feelings he inspires in her. And Jake is just as surprised by his overwhelming attraction to Cali. As their play intensifies, so does their bond. Now, Jake doesn’t want anyone but Cali—but is he ready to officially claim her? And will she submit to being his forever?
78,000 words
Dear Reader,
Exciting things happen in November. It’s the month we first announced the creation of Carina Press, the month of my Harlequin employment anniversary and it’s the month when we in the U.S. get gorge-yourself-on-bad-carbs-and-turkey day (otherwise known as Thanksgiving). We also get Black Friday (I think they call it that because of the color of your bruises after you’ve been run over by crazy shoppers).
This November, we’re excited to release our first Carina Press book in trade print format. The Theory of Attraction, an erotic BDSM romance collection featuring novellas from Delphine Dryden, Christine d’Abo and Jodie Griffin, is on shelves and available for order online.
We also have fourteen new stories in digital for you to enjoy post-turkey coma, in that long, long line outside the mall on Black Friday or, if neither of those is your thing, to enjoy just because you like a good book! Try to avoid the crime and violence of some of those crazy holiday shoppers and enjoy some on-page suspense instead. Marie Force is back with her popular Fatal series and ongoing protagonists Nick and Sam, in her next romantic suspense, Fatal Deception. Also returning is author Shirley Wells with Dying Art, the next Dylan Scott mystery.
I’m happy to introduce debut author Jax Garren’s new trilogy, which kicks off this month with How Beauty Met the Beast. This novella grabbed my attention when I read it on submission, with off-the-charts sexual tension, a wonderful, character-driven futuristic world, a smart, sassy heroine and a tortured, scarred hero who yearns for nothing more than to keep the woman he’s secretly falling in love with safe.
Looking for something out-of-this-world to take you away from the pre-holiday madness? J.L. Hilton offers up her next cyberpunk science-fiction romance, Stellarnet Prince, continuing the adventures of futuristic blogger extraordinaire Genny. Meanwhile, Cáit Donnelly’s Now You See It gives a paranormal edge to a thrilling romantic suspense, while erotic fantasy romance Dark Dealings by Kim Knox is guaranteed to give you that “take me away” feeling.
Joining Kim with erotic romance releases this month are Jodie Griffin with her next Bondage & Breakfast novella, Forbidden Desires, and Lynda Aicher’s first of a BDSM trilogy, Bonds of Trust. All three books in this trilogy are both smokin’ hot, while delivering a wonderful, captivating story.
We have two authors with male/male releases this month, including L.B. Gregg’s contemporary romance Men of Smithfield: Adam and Holden. Also in the male/male niche, author Libby Drew has her first Carina Press release, paranormal male/male romance 40 Souls to Keep.
Susanna Fraser’s An Infamous Marriage is our lone historical romance offering this month, but one that won’t disappoint. Anchoring us in the here and now are several contemporary romance titles. Jeanette Murray’s No Mistletoe Required aims to get you into a holiday mood and December Gephart bursts onto the publishing scene with her debut, the witty, fun and romantic Undercover Professor.
And don’t miss the upcoming conclusion of Shannon Stacey’s second Kowalski family trilogy, All He Ever Dreamed.
Wherever your reading pleasure takes you, enjoy this month’s variety of releases as we gear up for the holiday season.
We love to hear from readers, and you can email us your thoughts, comments and questions to [email protected]. You can also interact with Carina Press staff and authors on our blog, Twitter stream and Facebook fan page.
Happy reading!
~Angela James
Executive Editor, Carina Press
www.carinapress.com
www.twitter.com/carinapress
www.facebook.com/carinapress
Dedication
This one goes out with a special thanks to my faithful Beta Readers, Lori, Val and Cindy, who gave me the confidence boost when I needed it the most. My friends and critique partners, Sue, Paula, Jenna and Kim, for the support, feedback and brainstorming that helped the story evolve. To my editor, Rhonda, for loving the book, making the story stronger and teaching me so much along the way. And as always, to my family, for understanding my distractions, dealing with late dinners and cheering me on the whole time.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
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
About the Author
Copyright
Prologue
“Do you like bondage?”
“I don’t know.”
“Spankings? Whips? Floggings?”
“I don’t know.”
“Exhibitionism, being a slave, serving a Master?”
“Again, I don’t know.”
“Golden showers, enemas or any other classification of water sports?”
“What?” Cali Reynolds gasped then shuddered. Water sports? “God, no.”
The long-haired co-owner of The Den paused in his barrage of questions to eye her intently. He braced an elbow on the desk and leaned in, assessing her, the blue polo shirt tugging across his shoulders, his muscled biceps flexing. Seth Mathews was the last obstacle she had to pass before she could be granted membership to the exclusive club. He gave a half smile at the expression of pure disgust that had to be on her face.
“There are members here who do enjoy those activities, Ms. Reynolds,” the man said. “These are standard interview questions. I hope your opinions wouldn’t be so blatantly displayed in the presence of those who do like those things.”
She winced. Her hands clenched in her lap and she hoped the large desk between them hid the action. “I didn’t mean any disrespect. It’s just not for me.”
He nodded then glanced at the paper on his desk, making a mark on the page. He appeared younger than she’d expected, maybe late thirties, but his age didn’t hinder the authority he exuded. “What are you looking for, then?” He studied her, missing nothing.
She swallowed, her stomach knotting into a state of sickly pain. “I don’t know, exactly,” she answered, her face heating with embarrassment. She tore her gaze from his and stared at her lap. She picked uncharacteristically at the
small hangnail on her thumb, wondering if the straight-cut black slacks and purple sweater set had been too conservative for this interview.
He sighed, the pen clattering against the desk as he tossed it down and leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Then why are you here? The Den is the most exclusive BDSM club in the Twin Cities. If you don’t know what you want or like, then why come here?”
She snapped her chin up, desperation snaking into her voice. “Because you are the most exclusive club. I have to get in here.”
“Why?”
Cali ducked her head, tucking her hair behind her ear, using the habitual move to calm herself. Why, indeed. “I’ll never try this anywhere else.” She waited for him to respond, but he didn’t. So she continued, filling in the silence with the truth. “It’s taken me a very long time to understand what I desire. Just as long to accept that what I crave sexually is way outside the box of normal. And even longer to do something about it. This isn’t a game for me, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
He picked up the pen, letting the object flip absently between his fingers. “Why now?”
“If not now, then it’s never.” She took a deep breath and hoped he believed her, because it was true. This was her one and only chance of safely getting what she secretly fantasized about. She couldn’t risk the exposure by going anywhere else.
He sat forward. “Why do you think you’re a submissive if you’ve never participated in any submissive activities?”
“How did you know you were a dominant?” she fired back. He obviously was and she was tired of his game. Of the questions and disbelief. She wasn’t going to be intimidated into walking out because he doubted her intentions. “How did you discover what you liked and wanted without experiencing them? I bet you didn’t know for sure. No one can. So if inexperience is the only thing keeping me from getting into this club, then I ask you, how else am I supposed to learn?”
He stared at her and this time, she didn’t flinch away. She’d thrown down the challenge and she wasn’t backing down. Maybe he’d toss her out or maybe, just maybe, he’d throw her over the desk and spank her for her defiance. Her gut dropped at that thought as a wave of heat flashed through her.
Either way, she’d have an answer.
After a minute of tense silence, a slow smile curled over his sensual lips. He stood, his large frame towering over her as he extended his hand. “Welcome to The Den, Ms. Reynolds.”
Chapter One
Inhale, exhale. Two simple, reflexive actions that seemed almost impossible for Cali to execute. Breathe. She had to forcibly remind herself oxygen was necessary. But then, she could hardly hear her own thoughts over the pounding of her heart.
It’d been four days since her final interview. Four days to digest and stew on the fact that she’d been granted membership to the exclusive sex club. She’d be mortified if anyone ever found out she was here. Just the thought of it had her swallowing back her dinner.
They won’t, she reminded herself. She could fulfill this side of her life without anyone knowing.
She forced herself to look around the small room in an attempt to focus on something besides her increasing anxiety. The space was tastefully decorated in deep burgundies and greens. The black leather love seat where she sat was positioned across from two matching chairs. A waiting room that with its warm tones and expensive furniture was more suited for a corporate office than a sex club.
What was she waiting for?
Had the club decided to revoke her membership before she’d even started? Then why did she spend the last half hour listening to all of the rules being repeated to the small group of new members like herself? It didn’t make sense. No one else had been excluded, pulled aside and singled out.
She’d gone through the interviews, both on paper and in person. Paid the exorbitant membership fee. Completed the new member checklist filled with questions that made her cheeks flame and her heart race at the images they conjured. Submission, spanking, bondage, anal play, voyeurism, exhibitionism—oh God, she had to think of something else.
She forced another slow exhale, the breathing technique doing little to instill the calm she sought. The utter silence of the room was an added torture. No piped in music or even the insistent ticking of a clock to distract her mind. She’d been left alone with her thoughts, nerves and a barely restrained instinct to flee.
Abruptly she stood, hesitated then immediately sat back down. She cursed silently, berating herself for the show of nerves. Shifting, she moved to tuck the strands of her sleek bob behind her ear, but her hand stilled when she touched the unfamiliar tumble of curls instead. Like the mini-skirt and low-cut blouse she wore, the loose curls flowing untamed around her head were an extension of this other side of herself. The side that seemed so very, very dirty. So wrong.
But desperately ached to be free.
She dropped her hand and clasped it tightly with the other, refusing to fidget. Refusing to run or panic or any of the other things they were probably hoping she’d do. If this was a test, she wasn’t failing.
Determination reasserted, she breathed a little easier. She would get through this. It might have taken her forty-four years, two grown kids and a divorce to get here, but she wasn’t turning back now.
Tonight, she would once again have sex with a man.
* * *
Jake McCallister leaned back in his chair and kicked his boots up to rest on the edge of the desk. The silent action felt off, missing the persistent creak he was accustomed to hearing. Shifting against the shiny leather for a comfortable spot, he wished for his old eyesore of a chair that had fit his body perfectly.
Too bad the garbage truck came that morning.
Sighing, he closed his eyes for a quick break before the night began. Before the crowds arrived and forced their expectations on him. Two minutes. That’s all he wanted. Two minutes of silence to rest his mind.
The door to his office swung open, the booming rock music from the main floor pulsing into the room. “Hey, Jake,” Seth called out as he strode into the office. “Do you have the file with tonight’s newbie info?”
So much for two minutes. Jake opened his eyes and sat up, his boots thumping on the wood floor. He shuffled some papers around on his desk until he found the folder his business partner was searching for. It was First Friday, the one night a month new members were officially introduced to the club. “Here,” he said, holding the folder out to Seth. “Do you have the assignments done?”
All newbies were paired with an employee their first night to show them around and answer any questions. It was both a courtesy and a precaution, with no obligation from either party. Still, they took care in assigning the member escort, as those matches often ended the night together—in one fashion or another.
“For the most part,” Seth answered as he glanced at the list. “There’s one I’m having a hard time with. I was hoping you would do another interview and verify my choice before we send her out.”
Internally, Jake groaned. “When?”
“In fifteen minutes.”
“Let me guess,” Jake said as he leaned back in his chair and thought about the new client list he’d just handed to Seth. “It’s the forty-four-year-old divorcee looking for a little adventure but having no idea what she’s getting into. Desperate to hang on to her youth after her husband dumped her for a younger woman, she thinks our club will validate her desirability and boost her self-esteem.”
Seth shut the door cutting off the music and took a seat. Not a good sign. “You know I would have denied her membership if there was any indication she wasn’t serious about the lifestyle.” He shot Jake a reproachful glare before continuing. “On the surface, it seems a lot like what you just described, but I can’t pin this one down. There’s an element of almost virginal curiosity about her that doesn’t fit with her age.”
“So do the interview yourself.”
“Can’t. I have an appointment at ten and I’ve already
done the prelims. I want a second opinion.”
“What about Dek?” Deklan Winters was their third business partner. The three men had started The Den five years ago on an idea, a desire and barely enough cash to open the doors.
Seth leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “You’re the ‘people person,’ Jake. You can figure her out faster than either Dek or I can.” He furrowed his brow and tilted his head in consideration. “Why are you dodging this?”
“Why did you wait until now to let me know?”
Seth sat up. “We always get a second opinion when in doubt.”
Jake’s gaze darted to the wall of video screens. Every room in the club had a security camera. No exceptions. The club had a reputation to uphold. The three men had worked hard to establish The Den in the BDSM scene and it was currently on the top of the Twin Cities list. But they all knew the list was as fluid and quick to change as a river bed during the spring thaw.
Discretion, safety and exclusivity kept them on top.
“Fine,” Jake responded as he scanned each screen in a practiced rhythm, absorbing every action, from the clients playing in the private rooms to the Scenes taking place in the Dungeon. “Give me her information and I’ll take care of it.” He glanced back to Seth. “Who have you matched her with so far?”
Seth extracted a sheet from the file and handed it over before he leaned back, his shoulders relaxing at Jake’s agreement. Seth ran a hand through his hair, the straight, brown locks combing through his fingers before they fell back to brush over his shoulders. Jake noted the telling actions. For some reason, this client had Seth flustered.
“Marcus,” Seth replied in answer to Jake’s question, his knee bouncing in a rapid beat of contained energy. “But it’s not feeling right. Nothing against Marcus, he’s one of our best Dom’s, but my gut tells me I’m missing something.”
“Like what?”
Seth’s lips compressed in a brief line of frustration. “Shit,” he exhaled. “I don’t know. That’s why I want you to meet her.” He stood abruptly and paced across the room to the mini-fridge, yanked the door open and stared inside before slamming it closed and turning back to Jake empty-handed. “She’s not typical. The interviews I’ve had with her just don’t fit with the divorced cougar looking to feel better about herself.”
