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Damaged Goods [New York, Book 2] [MultiFormat]
eBook by Lainey Reese

eBook Category: Erotica/BDSM Erotica/Romance
eBook Description: Dominance. Submission. Murder. And that's just before lunch. New York, Book 2 Homicide detective Brice Marshall's current case has him stymied and frustrated. A serial killer is slaughtering young women. After a long, fruitless day poring over the most gruesome evidence he's ever seen, he needs a break. Stepping into his cousin's BDSM club is a reminder that there is another part of himself. A part that has been left empty in a life ruled by work. The fact is, he's a Dom in search of a sub. When he bumps into Terryn, a slender redhead who's new to the scene, her wide-eyed eagerness even in the face of her nerves attracts him like gravity. Terryn is the sub of his dreams, with the power to ease his soul. Without warning the murder case reaches ugly tentacles into the most private part of his world--the woman he wants to claim as his own. The woman whose stubborn search for the delicate balance between sub life and independence could put her directly in the path of the killer. Warning: This book contains BDSM play, M/F/M m´┐Żnage, graphic language and a drool-worthy Dom on the hunt for a sub and a killer.

eBook Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd., Published: 2012, 2012
Fictionwise Release Date: October 2012


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The check-in area looked a lot like a coat check you'd find in most any high-end restaurant. In a way, it was. Subs and Doms alike turned in all personal items there to be picked up when they left. What was different about this coat check was when you traded in your belongings you got either a collar or an armband instead of a ticket stub. Doms got armbands, subs got a collar.

Brice relaxed and leaned against the doorframe while he waited as the slender redhead traded in her sparkling gold bag. He couldn't have been more thrilled when the young woman behind the counter handed back a collar.

"Why is this one yellow?" he heard her ask.

"Because you're not a first timer anymore," Brice answered from where he stood. She jumped and turned to him, and Brice got a look at her from the front for the first time.

She had eyes that seemed to swallow up her heart-shaped face. They were as green as spring grass, and Brice took a moment to admire their beauty before he went on. Her features were delicate, with a small nose, high cheekbones and a slight dimple in her slightly rounded chin. She had a luscious mouth that was painted a glossy peach, and he wanted nothing more than to take a bite. He'd already noticed that she was taller than average and slender, and now he saw that although slim, she was not lacking in curves.

"The red collar is only for a sub's first three visits. I take it this is your fourth visit?" He didn't need her nod or the, "Yes it is, Master Brice" from Candy, the check-in girl, to let him know he was right. It was all there in her expression.

He kept his eyes on her as he stepped forward and walked behind the counter. A quick look at the collar clutched in her hands assured him she wasn't already taken. A claimed sub had cuffs attached to her collar, or at least a chain. This one had neither. With a nod to Candy conveying she should keep an eye on the sub for him, he went to stow his things and get his band.

He wasn't gone for a minute, but he was still impressed that she hadn't moved at all while waiting. It boded well for what he had in mind. Her eyes fixated on the black band he now had on his bicep as he rounded the counter and approached her.

"Eyes down, sub," he said as he took the collar from her fingers and clasped it on her slender neck. When she instinctively tried to step back and didn't lower her eyes, he gathered the hair at her nape and held tight. He applied stronger and stronger pressure until she gave a small gasp and arched into his grip. "I know you are new, but even with only three nights here, you would have been taught the basics." He watched her for signs of reluctance or discomfort as she struggled to obey him.

What he saw was a strong, independent young woman who was having trouble coming to terms with the submissive side of her nature. Her pupils were dilated, there was a flush in her cheeks and her lips were parted and moist. All signs that she was aroused by what was happening. She also had her fists clenched and her eyebrows wrinkled in a frown. That showed him that she was not quite comfortable with the knowledge that this was exciting her.

It was just the combination of emotions that a Dom found irresistible. At least a Dom like him. Here was a woman who had a whole world of discovery ahead of her. The thought of all the firsts that she had yet to experience was a heady rush.

"You know," he said in a mild voice, "there are Doms out there who like subs already trained and broken in. Subs who know the rules and will bend and yield to their Will readily and easily." He smiled and tightened his grip on her hair. "I am not that kind of Dom."

Terryn gulped and tried not to squeak. This guy was seriously hot. He had to be over six feet, with dark hair, chocolate-brown eyes and a great face. It was classic, she thought, and so beautifully male it made her think of men like Cary Grant and Rock Hudson, back when tall, dark and handsome was really tall and dark and handsome.

Here he was, movie-star perfect, and he was a Master. A Master who had her by the hair. Terryn wondered if maybe she was home in bed, because this had to be a dream.

"Um." Terryn wasn't sure if she was allowed to speak or not, but she risked it. "I have had some training." He quirked an eyebrow at her in an expression that spoke volumes, and she finally lowered her eyes and added, "Sir. Um, Master?" Something in her chest warmed when he chuckled and released her hair.

"Come with me, little sub, and you can tell me just what kind of training you've had so far." He turned and walked toward the lounge area.

She risked a quick look at Candy, who'd been very helpful and nice on her previous visits. Candy gave her a smile and thumbs-up that Terryn decided was approval of the Dom. Then she hurried after him, with eyes down. She only lowered them as far as it took to watch the way the muscles in his rear moved and flexed as he walked. The man had one fine rearview.

"Sub." Terryn jumped in surprise when he spoke over his shoulder, "Eyes on the floor."

With a guilty blush that she felt staining her cheeks, she peeked up to see him watching her through one of the mirrors on the wall. "Oops," she said, and this time lowered her eyes all the way and followed him to a deep burgundy chair.

The chair was plush and inviting and looked big enough to hold a family of four...until he sat in it. All of a sudden, there wasn't enough room for her. He was solidly built, and he sat sprawled in the middle of the chair with his legs stretched out. The position left only inches on either side of him to spare.

Terryn took a deep breath. This is what she wanted. This is what she was looking for. She'd been reading about the D/s lifestyle for months, and now it was happening. She took a deep breath, wrestled her inner feminist to the ground and knelt at his feet.


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