Out of the Darkness (Untwisted #2)

by Alice Raine

  OUT OF THE DARKNESS

  Untwisted Series: Book Two

  Alice Raine

  Out of the Darkness is the second novel in the highly addictive Untwisted series that begun with The Darkness Within Him.

  Businesswoman Stella Marsden has put her personal life on hold to further her career. But all work and no play has left Stella realising that she misses having someone in her life. She craves a dominant man who will help her rediscover the fantasies she wishes to explore …

  Deciding to seek out a no strings attached relationship, Stella joins Club Twist with the aim of finding some stress-relieving fun.

  What Stella finds is the sexy, cool, and domineering Nathaniel Jackson. Nathaniel appears to have it all together, but under the surface, he’s struggling to deal with a past he’d rather forget.

  Can Stella lead him out of the darkness …

  Every man is a moon and has a dark side that he never shows.

  Mark Twain

  Acknowledgements

  First and foremost I need to sing the praises of Accent Press and the wonderful people who work there! Without you taking a risk on a new author like me I literally wouldn't be sat here writing acknowledgments for my second published book. Alexandra Davies, my editor and savior when it comes to all things grammar, thank you for the hours spent pouring over my work. In particular Beth Jones, Stephanie Williams, and Ieuan Matthews, your patience with my endless queries is amazing and I thank you all for the marketing, tweaking, and advice. I know there must also be many more behind the scenes at Accent Press who have worked on my books in one way or another, and although I might not know your names, I send you my deepest gratitude.

  Next, a huge thank you to all of my friends who have supported me on this incredible journey! I can't list you all, but you know who you are! A special little mention must go out to Helen L, Karen W, Helen N, Charlotte B, Ruth W, Rosie Mc, Laura Mc, and Katie N, who read, re-read, and provided feedback, advice, and support along the way, not to mention the coffee's, takeaways, and gossip sessions :)

  I must thank my husband Paul for the support, love, and encouragement throughout this process, and also my family for their love and pride even though they knew I didn't want them to read the books! Your enthusiasm and praise means so much to me.

  Now for the really important people … all you lovely folk reading my books – a huge thank you! I can't express in words just how much it means to me to read the great reviews you post, or the fantastic emails you send me telling me you like my books. To an author, that is just the best feeling ever, so thank you, and keep them coming!

  The reason I write is for you the reader, so I hope you enjoy this next installment.

  Alice xx

  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

  Prologue

  Nathan

  Renewal Form for Club Membership

  Club Twist

  Explore Your Twisted Side.

  101 Fountain Street, Soho, London, W1D 4RF

  Name: Nathaniel Jackson

  Age: 31

  Relationship status: Single

  Sexual preference: Women

  What do you plan to use our venue for? Please tick at least one box:

  □ Drinking

  □ Socialising

  □ Dancing

  ■ Meeting sexual partners

  When you were younger what influenced the way you viewed sex, relationships and romance (e.g. friends, films, television etc.)?

  I’ve been a member of this club for the last 13 years, but every year I’m made to complete this fucking renewal form. Do you realise how damn insulting that is? I get that you need to assess members for their suitability for a club like the Twist, but the questions on here are ridiculous, especially this one, have you even read it recently? Or considered updating?

  Back to the stupid questions. When I was younger I had no best friends – no friends at all actually. I wasn’t allowed any. I didn’t socialise, it was just one of Father’s rules, and I was rarely allowed to watch television, so to put it bluntly, no, friends, films, games or television didn’t affect the way I viewed relationships, sex or romance.

  The only relationships that have ever mattered to me were those with my father and my brother and both of those are pretty screwed up. And as for romance? It’s a fucking waste of time that serves no purpose in my life. Sex I enjoy, but don’t kid yourself that sex is in any way linked to romance, it isn’t, it’s a whole different issue.

  Intrinsically men are all arseholes who use women for exactly what they want, I’m just the same – the only difference is I make sure the women I’m with know that all I want is sex to start off with. No blurred lines that way, happy endings all round.

  I’ve answered your fucking questions this time, but next year you either roll my membership over and skip this shit, or you lose me as a member.

  Stella

  Application Form for Membership to Club Twist

  Club Twist

  Explore Your Twisted Side.

  101 Fountain Street, Soho, London, W1D 4RF

  Name: Stella Marsden

  Age: 27

  Relationship status: Single

  Sexual preference: Men

  What do you plan to use our venue for? Please tick at least one box:

  ■ Drinking

  ■ Socialising

  □ Dancing

  ■ Meeting sexual partners

  When you were younger what influenced the way you viewed sex, relationships and romance (e.g. friends, films, television etc.)?

  Lots of things I suppose. When I was back in my teens my best friend Lilly had been desperately in love with the brooding character of Mr Darcy from Pride and Prejudice. We must have watched that bloody series over 20 times but I still remember the day that Lilly announced that she thought all women secretly craved a man who is a bit of a moody bad boy like Darcy. I’d laughed in her face, and in the way that only soppy pre-romance teenagers can, had declared that I would never want a bad boy, only a loving, compassionate, and gentle man like the princes in fairy tales.

  It makes me feel old to think about it but quite a few years have passed since that conversation with Lilly, I’m no longer a silly teenager with dreams of fairy tale love, in fact I’m probably rather bitter, having done the relationship thing a few times now, all unsuccessfully, and to be honest rather unsatisfactorily.

  It’s funny this question is on here, though, because for some reason Lily’s words came back to me this afternoon as I sat debating my latest failed romance. After quite a bit of soul-searching and at least half a tub of Ben and Jerry’s finest chocolate chip ice cream, I realised that Lilly’s statement is quite possibly true for me. I’ve had gentle and caring boyfriends, but they’ve lost their appeal pretty quickly, dull, dull and duller … so I’ve decided that perhaps it’s time I started branching out into brooding bad boy territory too.

  That’s why I’m here, really; I want to join Club Twist to help me in my search. Even with
my decision made I still can’t help wondering if the reality of being with a “bad boy” will live up to the fantasy. I suspect not, but I suppose there’s only one way to find out – give in this form and then start my search.

  Chapter One – Stella

  Surely this can’t be the place? Unconvinced, I glanced along the street again as I approached the blank exterior of what could only be described as an abandoned theatre. A big, boarded-up, empty-looking theatre that had probably seen its heyday back in the seventies. My shoulders sagged – it certainly didn’t appear to be a trendy bar and nightclub as I’d been led to believe. Damn, I’d sneaked out of work early and come all this way for a frigging wild goose chase. Sighing, I made the last few steps of my journey anyway and then stopped to glance around the deserted street curiously. I winced, it had a bit of a sleazy feel to it actually; run down, graffiti-covered, and generally just a little bit scummy.

  This part of the Soho district of London was totally unknown to me, hell, the whole of Soho was unknown to me. I knew Ronnie Scott’s Jazz Club was around here somewhere, and clearly from the sex shops I’d just walked past the local community were somewhat … exuberant in their tastes, shall we say, but that was the sum total of my knowledge.

  I myself lived up in Victoria Park, a nice leafy suburb of London that was such a complete contrast to the chewing gum covered pavement where I was currently standing that I had to seriously doubt my sanity for coming here at all. Talk about ‘out of your comfort zone’. Mind you, the reason for my visit here today was even crazier, and a little relieved bubble of laughter escaped my throat as I realised that my trip was going to be a dud.

  A piece of newspaper blew along the street on the breeze, but even my swift sidestep couldn’t stop it from wrapping its greasy pages around my ankle. Just bloody typical. Huffing impatiently, I leant on the theatre wall with a grimace as I tried to shake off the chip wrappings from where it clung to my bare leg. Ugh. Finally detaching it I looked up at the broad white columns that lined the old entrance. Frowning, I looked closer. Actually the building wasn’t quite as shabby as I’d first believed. From a distance, I’d thought the windows were boarded up, but now I realised that they were covered by discreet but modern shutters.

  Narrowing my eyes, I wondered if perhaps I’d been wrong with my first assumption that this theatre had long since seen better days, and as I began to look over the building again I noticed the entrance doors were plain with no markings, but on closer inspection also appeared new and solid.

  Standing back a little, I chewed my lower lip nervously as I contemplated the building before me, noticing a discreet logo cast in bronze that was mounted above the set of double doors and glowing a warm amber colour in the afternoon sunshine. I hadn’t noticed it on my initial scan of the frontage but it looked like a loose hanging spring, or an apple peel when someone had peeled the entire fruit in one go leaving a long curling piece. It might be simple, but this image told me I had indeed found my destination because it matched the one on the card I clutched in my clammy hand.

  Absently fiddling with the ring on my thumb as I did when I was nervous, I glanced down at the slightly crumpled card again . ‘Club Twist. Explore your twisted side.’

  One of my eyebrows rose as I read the strap line again. They’d clearly chosen a discreet marketing strategy because the name wasn’t exactly specific in its description, but when you turned over the card, the wording and images made it blatantly obvious that Club Twist was a sex club.

  Yes, that’s right. I, Stella Marsden, professional, independent woman and otherwise sane person, am standing outside the doors to a sex club. I rolled my eyes at my stupid self for ever thinking that this was a good idea. Turning the card in my hand I blushed a prize winning shade of red, apparently Club Twist was no ordinary sex club either, no, they make it their mission to cater for a whole variety of tastes, I know this because there’s a frigging list on the reverse of the card that just makes me cringe even reading it.

  I now had a big decision to make, after thinking the address had been a dud and that I might have escaped the reason for my trip today I now had to determine if I really wanted to go through with this or not. Did I? Could I?

  It was now or never. My thumb ring was getting a vigorous twirling as I stood here and considered my options and anxiousness settled so heavily in my belly that I started to feel a bit sick. What was it my flatmate Kenny had told me this morning as he’d seen me off with a bright wave and an encouraging little pep talk … ah yes, that’s right … “You’re a sexually liberated young woman who should go out and get what she damn well wants.” Yes, he’s all in favour of this crazy plan, but seeing as Kenny is also the sluttiest guy I know I do have to question exactly why it is that I’m following his advice.

  After a few more minutes of deliberation, I shrugged and rolled my shoulders in an attempt to relax them. Ah hell, why not, I thought. I can always walk out again can’t I? So taking a deep breath I advanced on the large double doors and tentatively gave them a push, surprising myself when I found them unlocked. Taking a shaky breath, I bravely pushed them open, stumbling forwards as their weight gave way and I found myself struggling to see in the darkness within.

  ‘Well hello there,’ came a voice through the gloom making me jump out of my frigging skin. Blinking rapidly as my eyes adjusted I calmed myself enough to register that it was indeed a bar inside, and actually it wasn’t dingy as I had first thought – merely dimmer than it had been outside in the late afternoon sunshine. The space inside matched the exterior; it was a theatre, or at least it had been at some point before being converted to a bar and nightclub. Crikey, it was cavernous and my inquisitive eyes roved around trying to take it all in while also searching for the source of the voice.

  I have to say, it wasn’t at all what I had expected of a sex club. There was no leopard print wallpaper, no plastic-covered wipe-clean couches, and not a bed in sight. In fact, there was no obvious sleaziness at all. On the whole, it looked pretty high end, and a whooshing breath of relief flew from my lungs.

  My work brain clicked on as I surveyed the room from an interior design perspective. Most of the original features of the theatre seemed to have been maintained, including the huge velvet stage curtains and all the boxes on the upper levels. The only real change seemed to be that the ground floor seats had been removed and replaced with a dance floor and large curved bar with small clusters of tables scattered around the edges. It was surprisingly tasteful and I loved how the original stage had been preserved and neatly joined to the dance floor to form an elevated platform. Whoever had done their interior design had done well, and I felt a vague twinge of envy that it hadn’t been my company.

  Seeing as the inside looked normal maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. Blinking back from my thoughts I looked around and realised that the voice I had heard must belong to the lone barman I now saw, who I noticed was unashamedly giving me a very thorough once over before placing down the glass he had been drying.

  ‘H-hi.’ My reply was shaky to say the least. The nerves I’d felt as I forced myself to walk through the doors were now completely swamping me and my step faltered before I was even half way across the large room. The cause for my hesitation wasn’t just my nerves though, no, a good deal of my sudden anxiousness could definitely be attributed to the feeling of nakedness that swept over my body as the man continued to give me a deep scrutinising look that literally felt like it was stripping me of my clothing, piece by piece. Wow, I’d heard jokes about men who could look through women’s clothes with a hot glance, but I’d never experienced it until now. My eyes widened and I swallowed loudly at his inspection, I have to say it was extremely unnerving.

  ‘We’re not open yet, sweetheart. Besides, I’m thinking perhaps you’re in the wrong place.’ The barman continued with a sly smile, sliding his way out from behind the large aluminium covered counter and sauntering towards me. I frowned as his gaze settled happily on my chest so I pulled my ja
cket protectively around me – not that it would really hide my ample bosoms much – and then stood my ground and raised my chin in an attempt to give myself more confidence. It unfortunately failed, I was still terrified, but hopefully my stance would look convincing to him.

  I’d checked the address on the business card practically a dozen times out on the pavement so I knew it was the correct place, but at his words I unnecessarily glanced down at the card in my hand anyway, then frowned and shook my head. ‘Nope, this is definitely the right address,’ I replied, sounding a little more confident this time as I looked up and met his eyes which had thankfully raised from my cleavage to meet my gaze.

  He reached my side and stopped, crossing a thick pair of tattooed arms across his chest. ‘Really?’ he scoffed, sounding like he didn’t believe me for a second. I noticed the smell of alcohol on his breath and dark smudges under his eyes, and wondered if he’d been having a sneaky ‘hair of the dog’ to help him recover from a big night, or perhaps was just starting early on tonight’s session.

  ‘Well, do you want to tell me what a clean-looking little lady like you is doing in my big dirty club then?’ he asked in a gravelly tone as his lips turned up in an unnervingly confident smile.

  Oh God. I flushed bright red, immediately knowing that his reference to ‘dirty’ had nothing whatsoever to do with the cleanliness of the club. Even my brief glance earlier had shown it was spotless. No, on this occasion the word was definitely being used in an altogether different context that made me hot under the collar just thinking about it. Was my pursuit of the ultimate ‘bad boy’ really worth this degree of mortification?

  ‘I’m looking to explore,’ I mumbled softly, dying of embarrassment and hoping the barman would understand without making me explain my thoughts in further more humiliating detail.

  ‘Explore? Then you’re definitely in the wrong place, sweetheart, but there’s a stop for a big red tour bus that does the London tourist route just down the road, why don’t you try there,’ he suggested helpfully while turning me and guiding me back towards the doors with a gentle hand on my back which slipped a bit lower with every step I took.