“Mesmerizing, is it not?”
Jennifer Croft froze at the distinct lilt of the devil’s voice behind her.
He might not have red horns and carry a pitchfork, but Daegan MacKenna was every inch the kind of man that normally sent her running in the opposite direction. At least that’s what she kept trying to tell herself.
Someone like him knew how to lure a woman to the dark side with his sexy-as-hell dark looks and a voice that carried the sound of hot sex and dangerous need.
He scared the shit out of her.
“Yeah.” Jennifer tightened the small silk robe that covered her nearly nude frame and did her best to ignore the ache between her thighs.
She was going to have to go to the club tonight and get this situation taken care of. It wasn’t like her to stare at a photograph, even a masterpiece such as this one, and get so turned on she couldn’t think straight.
She’d been so lost in thought Daegan had sneaked up on her without her knowledge.
“It’s incredibly erotic to imagine what must be going through Eve’s mind as Murphy pressed the knife to her throat. Chase is a genius to have captured such perfection on film.”
Despite her good intentions, Jennifer turned and glanced at Daegan. The man was a damned compulsion. Every time he came near her, she couldn’t decide whether she wanted to fall at his feet or slam a door in his face. The twisted ache in her stomach made no sense.
“Chase is definitely the best.” She tried to hide the tremor in her voice and failed miserably.
Daegan’s forehead crinkled, and his gaze narrowed. Jennifer couldn’t shake the feeling of being prey as the predator circled before going in for the kill.
“I can easily imagine the flutter of her pulse at the hollow of her neck, or the sound of her heart racing to catch up with her wild thoughts.” Daegan took a step closer. “The fear is palpable in a scene like this one.”
Jennifer swallowed. More heat flared to life in her pussy. She clenched her thighs together and found herself biting the inside of her lip to keep from crying out.
Smooth move, Jennifer.
She’d momentarily forgotten about the rope tied intricately around her torso, including the strand that pressed a well-placed knot directly on top of her clit.
In preparation for tonight’s demonstration in the new Dark Room lounge, Murphy had called her in early for some prep work.
Working for Chase and Murphy as one of their bondage models had morphed into an incredible career for her, and tonight’s grand opening of their new space positioned her prominently as the premier fetish model in the Southeast. With any luck, after tonight’s show, she’d be fielding offers from across the country, or even the world.
“What about you?”
Daegan’s question pulled Jennifer from her wayward thoughts.
“What? Me?” She had no idea what he’d said. For some reason his presence unnerved her, leaving her tongue-tied and mute.
“Everything okay?” The look of concern stamped on his face almost fooled her. Then he winked at her. That simple move finally clueing her in.
“I don’t know what you mean?”
“Uh-huh.” A rough finger touched her bottom lip, tracing the path where her teeth had nibbled. “You looked like a lost little girl standing here waiting for the big bad Dom to eat you.”
