A Very Special, Exclusive, Snippet

Since this week is all about Ragged Edge and Reclaiming the Edge, I thought I’d share a sneak peek at what I’m working on next. This will be Adam’s book, and he’s a good friend of Dalton. There’s a new sub at Second Circle and though she’s come to see the show, she finds someone else that catches her eye instead…not that I can blame her.

~*~

Jesus.

“No, I don’t think he has anything to do with what’s going on up there.”

She’d spoken out loud, hadn’t she? Damn. Biting her lip, Sutton nodded in apology to the man. She’d gotten go caught up in the scene playing out on the stage, she’d forgotten she wasn’t alone.

He smirked. “It’s all right. Ward is putting on quite the scene. One of the better ones I’ve seen him do.”

“Do you come to watch him often?”

The smirk expanded to a full grin. “Ward’s impressive, but not that impressive. I prefer partners with a little less testosterone. Just monitoring things.”

Her interest in the scene vanished despite the fact it appeared things were reaching a climax. His attention to detail suddenly made sense. The man beside her wasn’t just anyone. He was the club monitor. Should things in a scene get out of hand, he’d step in without batting an eye to gain control of the situation.

It also meant he held the title of Dominant.

While she may have admired Ward for his skills flogging his submissive, the man standing beside her intrigued her more. She didn’t entirely understand why. Perhaps that drove her interest even more.

A thin woman dressed in a slinky vinyl mini-skirt appeared out of nowhere, offering a bottle of water to the man. His head dipped in thanks even though his eyes never left to stage to acknowledge her.

Observant.

She liked that. A lot.

It meant he took his position of power very seriously.

He cracked open the bottle, his sharp gaze still focused on the stage. Sutton used the opportunity to study him more closely. The profile of his face was just as magnificent as the rest of him. His sandy blond hair brushed the collar of his shirt, framing a square jaw that would put David Beckham to shame. The bridge of his nose held a slight bump, a sign he’d possibly broken his nose at some point in his life.

He cast her a sidelong glance, catching her staring again. “Darlin’, I ain’t so pretty that you need to miss the best part of the show.”