It’s finally time to unleash Adam and Sutton to the wild – it’s release day for the next book in the Body Masters series, Edge of Need!

Buy Links:

Ellora’s Cave

Amazon

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If you haven’t read the previous two books (Ragged Edge and Reclaiming the Edge), no worries, Edge of Need is completely standalone, tho Dalton, Erin and Cade do make an appearance (or two). As a fan of series myself, I always like to know how previous characters are doing. So it’s always something I’m sure to include in series books for readers.

As a treat, I thought I would share the entire first chapter of Edge of Need. Don’t have time to read it just yet? I’ve added a download link for the first chapter in PDF- just right click, save and enjoy on your ereader.

An Excerpt From: EDGE OF NEED

Copyright © SARA BROOKES, 2014

All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.  

Chapter One

The slap of leather against flesh echoed through Second Circle. Hushed murmurs whispered through the large room, the approval of the crowd virtually palatable as a woman cried out. Intrigued, Sutton drew closer, stopping on the fringe of the gathered members.

Another slap split the air. Another muffled moan lifted to the ceiling. The intoxicating sounds mingled together, drawing across her skin in a provocative caress.

Sutton shivered.

Oh God, how I have missed the sounds and smells of submission.

The injury she’d sustained several months ago had kept her from indulging in this part of her life. And now she only had four more weeks to go before she was cleared to perform again. Just today, she’d gotten the go-ahead to begin participating in something more rigorous than yoga. She seriously doubted the doctor had understood the gleam in her eye as he’d handed her the slip of paper.

She’d forced herself to take her time getting ready to visit the club tonight, indulging as she hadn’t in months. She’d even scented her bathwater with heliotrope and vanilla, two of her favorite scents. The smoothness of her silk-and-lace bra pressed against her flesh, making her feel luxurious and sinfully sexy.

Amazing how those things combined with one little piece of paper made her feel as though she was a woman again. Now she stood watching a scene at the private Atlanta fetish club, desperately aching to be the submissive she could only hear.

Overcome with curiosity, she wove through the swarm of people. The effort paid off when she reached the front edge of the crowd just as a flogger struck the submissive’s thigh.

The woman arched against the table, but Sutton knew it was futile attempt. The Dom who stood over the woman had denied her any kind movement by using an intricate network of knots to secure her wrists and calves. He’d also utilized a spreader bar to hold her legs wide open. To further add to her precarious position, he’d stuffed a ball gag between her lips.

The energy between the couple and the sound of the sub’s whimpers, touched off a gentle throb between Sutton’s legs. A flogger snapped over pink flesh, an intoxicating impact of fabric against skin.

Sutton inhaled sharply right along with the sub.

She would give anything to be the one bound before the audience. Wrists and ankles tied with rough rope and then bolted to the floor by a single string of metal links. Body positioned so her slick cunt was openly displayed for the audience.

Her injury meant she’d been denied the exquisite torture of being bound and under someone else’s command. Not anymore. Soon, her drought would come to an end.

The crack of leather drew Sutton’s attention back to the moment.

But instead of gazing longingly at the sub, she turned her attention to the Dom wielding the instrument. He appeared adept at ensuring the audience focused entirely on the sub, yet he managed to hold a commanding presence over the entire moment. His dark hair was wet with perspiration at his nape, a visual display of the level of effort needed for this kind of scene.

She wondered how long they’d been at this before she’d arrived. How long he’d kept the sub on edge. From the shade of the red on the sub’s thighs, ass, abdomen and breasts, it appeared to have been a while.

Sutton knew what she saw took considerable skill. Her interest in the sub waned as she studied the Dom with even more curiosity. Though he wielded the flogger with a firm grip, Sutton noticed he clearly monitored the submissive’s needs.

That factor alone made him even more appealing.

It didn’t hurt he was attractive as well. With sun-streaked brown hair and yards of hard flesh stretched over lean muscles, he had a physically commanding presence. Based on his deep tan, he appeared to be Italian. Possibly French? She wondered if he had a sexy accent to go along with his good looks. He looked to be around her five-foot-nine height, something else she found attractive. She wanted to look a Dom in the eye—when she’d been given permission, of course.

Sutton licked her lips in anticipation as the strips of leather streaked through the air. The sub gave a high-pitched wail as the bands hit. Judging by the tone, Sutton knew the woman was about to climax. The Dom evidently knew it as well as he eased off on the frequency of those hits.

Damn, he was good.

Really good.

She felt a sudden rush of excitement flood her body as every nerve ending came alive at the same time. Never had she wanted to be someone else more in her life. To be at the attentive, and highly skilled, Dom’s mercy. To feel the slide of the flogger against her throbbing flesh. To beg for mercy as she teetered on the rim of ecstasy.

The Dom swung the flogger in a figure-eight pattern, the strips of leather hitting against the sub’s ass and thighs in quick succession. When her skin had been painted a succulent hue of red, the Dom stopped and shoved the flogger into the pocket of his pants.

He slowly circled the bound submissive, his gaze carefully scrutinizing the woman. With a slight nod to show his pleasure, he spun on his heel, turning his back to the audience.

A soft hum filled the tense air. The sub whimpered, pulling at her bindings. Sutton watched to woman closely. She wasn’t struggling because she needed more from the man who’d abandoned her. She seemed to be struggling to get away.

What the heck?

Curious, Sutton stepped closer, positioning herself beside a man who acknowledged her with a curt nod. She returned the gesture with a casual smile, her concern focused on the alarming situation unfolding before her.

The Dom on the stage reappeared from the shadows, a butt plug clutched in his hand. Sutton blinked. Not just any plug. He also carried a small box, thin wires trailing from it to the flared end of the plug.

While Sutton had never been subjected to an electrically-charged dildo, a friend had once explained the item to her in great detail. She’d also explained the power and consuming nature of the electricity when it touched aroused skin. Though Sutton had never yearned to try electricity play, she still found the thought fascinating. To see such a display her first night back was thrilling.

The Dom paused, his sharp gaze sweeping over the crowd. When his gaze landed on Sutton, her heart gave a sharp thump. Panic did a few cartwheels in her stomach as she bit her lip and folded her arms in front of her. His expression altered as he gave Sutton a half-smile and moved his gaze away.

When he tilted his head toward the man beside her, Sutton’s insides settled. For a moment, she’d thought the guy had been about to pull her on stage. Electricity wasn’t included in any of her kinks. It wasn’t out of the question, but the thought of trying something so new when she’d been out of the game for so long unnerved her.

She wasn’t interested in such a volatile re-introduction to the lifestyle.

Besides, she was on a guest pass tonight. No play for her.

She took a moment to cast a sidelong glance to the man standing beside her and noticed he wore a dark-blue shirt and tight, faded jeans. An intricate network of colorful tattoos covered his left arm, while the right arm was free of any ink. Thick black bands circled his substantial biceps while heavy duty gauntlets surrounded each of his wrists, the leather bands so wide, they nearly reached his elbows.

This guy was massive. Even bigger than the Dom in the middle of the scene. Boyfriend of the sub, maybe? His gaze seemed to be focused entirely on the stage, as if he had something he needed to protect. His focus was sharp and unwavering. Cop, maybe?

“You’re missing the show.”

With a start, she realized the man she’d been staring at had spoken. Great, let’s just be rude your first night at a new club. “Sorry.”

His gaze flicked to her for a moment before returning to the stage. “You seemed interested earlier. Just didn’t want you to miss anything.”

“Thanks.”

Gaze on the stage again, she watched as the Dom skimmed his hand over the sub’s ass, tracing the marks he’d left. The sub gave a strangled gasp as she strained against the thick chains. His free hand slid against her exposed pussy a few times, wetting two of his fingers before slipping them inside her.

The sub gave a sharp cry as the Dom took his time pushing his fingers in and then slowly withdrawing. He kept this up for a bit, never varying the speed he fucked his fingers into her. The sub gave another muffled sob when he withdrew and slapped her bottom with the flat of his hand.

He brought the toy level, skimming it just above the surface of the woman’s skin. Her legs jumped from the near contact, her hips thrusting upward as sparks of power coursed through the glass instrument between the two surfaces.

Though she struggled with her restraints, she clearly offered herself. A contradiction Sutton was familiar with. A lot of Doms were extremely fond of creating such a sensation in their submissives. It was a facet of her life she’d missed. Sure, in the interim, she’d gotten off using one of her vibrators, but to truly and willingly submit to someone?

The ultimate euphoria.

Tension filled the room as the Dom shifted his hold and slowly began to work the instrument inside the sub’s ass. She cried out, her words slurred and unrecognizable around the gag. He ignored her, taking his time to slowly work the toy in and out at a pace that suited him, not her.

The woman’s entire body went rigid as the plug slipped fully into place. Her ankles and wrists strained against the bindings. The Dom on the stage spread his hands over her reddened flesh, pulling her ass cheeks apart in order to display the buried toy to the audience.

Sutton amended her earlier thought.

This Dom wasn’t simply good at his duties, he was a fucking master.

He stood, tugging the zipper of his pants to expose his thick cock. A few appreciative murmurs sounded from a group of women standing behind Sutton. His hand hit against the sub’s ass. The crack of the noise brought a halt to the quiet whispers.

“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, she nodded in apology to the man next to her. 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.”

Well crap. Talk about being blinded by the obvious. His attention to the scene certainly made sense now. He wasn’t here for the sub. He was the Dom’s lover.  “Do you come to watch him often?”

The smirk widened to a full grin. “Ward’s impressive, but not that impressive. I prefer partners with 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 a scene get out of hand, he’d step in without batting an eye to gain control of the situation. He was there to make sure everyone maintained safe, sane and consensual.

He wasn’t just a dominant force at the club to be reckoned with—he was the Dominant. As far as everyone in the room was concerned, he could pull rank over anyone, Doms included, and stop a scene if he thought things had gotten too out of hand.

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

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

She liked the quality. A lot.

It meant he took his position of power very seriously.

He opened 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 David Beckham would be jealous of. The bridge of his nose held a slight bump, more of an imperfection than a sign he’d broken it at some point in his life.

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

Wow. Talk about one hell of a sexy accent.

Blowing out a shaky breath, Sutton returned her gaze to the stage. The sub’s hips bucked in time to the Dom’s aggressive thrusts, her voice carrying through the attentive crowd. A few seconds later, the sub gave off a high-pitched wail as an orgasm punched through her. When the woman’s wails grew louder and more intense, the audience started to clap.

The noise seemed to fuel the couple on the stage, driving them both into a mesmerizing frenzy. Another keening wail tore loose from the woman before her body sagged against the bindings, her body trembling from the powerful release. Ward slipped out of her, tucking his still-hard cock back in his pants as he began the process of cleaning up.

As the gathered crowd started to move away, the man beside her dropped his arms to his sides. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“Of course.” The monitor jumped onto the stage just as Ward lifted his submissive into his arms. He kissed the top of her head as the monitor approached. They spoke quietly for a few moments before Ward stepped off the stage with the sub in his arms and headed for a darkened area in the back corner. Several people attempted to approach the retreating couple, but a stern glance from Ward cause them to suddenly become interested in something else.

The man she’d been talking to kneeled, collecting the discarded lengths of chains and ropes puddled on the stage. She immediately understood his duty and moved forward without thinking. “Need some help?”

He used the back of his hand to brush his hair out of his eyes. “Bucking for good-reward points? Off to an early start for a newbie.”

“How did…”

Those wide shoulders of his lifted. “It’s my job to know. Relax, I’m just giving you a hard time. Also part of my job.” He winked. “Here, can you drop these into the box over on the back corner of the stage? The latch is a little tricky.” Working together, they finished the task of cleaning the scene area in a few minutes.

Might as well go for introductions now, she’d embarrassed herself enough by gawking at him earlier. “Sutton Bristow.” Her hand shot forward and she was pleased to note it only quivered a little. Approaching a Dom wasn’t something she was accustomed to. Everyone had known her at her former club where there’d never been a shortage of Doms willing to scene with her. But that was back in New York. Here in Atlanta, it was a whole new ballgame.

She had to start from scratch.

He smiled, warmth touching his brown eyes as he took her outstretched hand. A bolt of something she could only describe as outright lust shot through her entire body when their flesh met. The reaction caused her to contain her excitement at his touch. Just as wonderful as she’d thought it would be. It could only get better from here.

“Adam Waters.”

A tall man with dark hair passed in front of them, touching one of his fingers to his brow. Adam returned the gesture before unbuckling the gauntlets around his wrists. “Care to keep me company at the bar for a bit?”

Her gaze swept the now active club. Clothing had started falling away as scenes began to rev up. The aroma of sex became more potent, spearing through her already trembling core. “Aren’t you working?”

“Ben just took over for the night. So I’m all yours.”

She recalled the black gauntlets around the wrists of the man who’d walked past their table a few minutes ago. Obviously the leather straps were a way to mark the monitor on shift, an easy way for someone in need to seek them out. Which explained why Adam had removed them.

“Lucky me. My own personal welcoming committee.”

“Lucky you indeed.” They stepped through a pair of frosted-glass doors to enter the social area of the club. A cool breeze refreshed her heated skin. “Two ice waters, please.” He touched the padding of the stool beside him in invitation.

She sat, relieved to have somewhere to rest. Her leg had started to ache a bit after standing during the intense scene. No doubt it would have to be iced later, a chore she didn’t relish as it involved dunking her leg in a bathtub full of ice. There were some tortures she liked, that kind of therapy fell somewhere around the bottom of her list.

“Nothing harder than water after a busy night of work?”

“Never been a fan of alcohol during a scene, to be honest. I prefer to be the only thing in my sub’s head. But, no, the club doesn’t serve alcohol of any kind. Former owner’s rules. New owner agreed as well, so the regulation stuck. Energy drinks, filtered water and fruit juices are all that you’ll find here.”

“Good rule.” The water cooled her parched throat. Evidently, the scene had gotten to her more than she’d realized. “Thanks.”

“What brings you here tonight?” He sipped, tapping his fingers against the glass as he swirled the drink around. “Come to see the famous Cutter Ward in his element. At least this one.”

Interesting comment. “What do you mean?”

“Ward likes to show off even though he rarely keeps a sub for an extended period of time. Mostly because he’s gone so much during race season. Most of the crowd here tonight came to specifically see him do a scene. Been a while since he’s been here.”

“Travel a lot?”

“Professional stock car driver. Most of the time he’s out on the track making a bunch of left turns. Can think of better ways to spend my time, personally. But hey, to each their own. He’s around more during the off season. Has a race out in California this weekend and this is his one night off.”

“Explains why the place is packed on a Tuesday night. Here I thought it wouldn’t be busy.” She smoothed her hand over the slick wood in front of her. “I didn’t visit to see anyone specifically. Coming off an injury that has kept me away from all this. Doctor just cleared me for something a little more strenuous than lotus position.”

“Injury?” His sharp gaze swept over her body. Had it been a stranger out on the street, she would have felt violated. “What happened if you don’t mind me asking?”

“A transverse stress fracture of my right tibia. Caused by repetitive movements, or so they say.” She hated talking about her injury because it reminded her too much of her shortcomings. How much such a thing kept her away from what she loved the most.

“So you’re an athlete.”

“I’m a dancer.” Her mouth twisted. “Most wouldn’t classify what I do as athletic.”

He shot her a devastating smile and she felt her insides melt. Yeah, he could stare at her however long he wanted to. “I’ve seen enough dancing to know it can be pretty damn athletic.”

She looked forward to moving again, getting her blood flowing by doing something other than the non-stressful exercises she’d been relegated to. The yoga poses she’d been working on were certainly relaxing while still allowing her to maintain some muscle tone, but she missed the flow of dancing on a stage in front of an audience.

“I’ve been sitting around on my ass for five weeks and there’s no way I can return to the stage after this long period of rest. I’m supposed to start physical therapy soon.”

“Is that so?” He shifted, pulling a business card from his back pocket before presenting it to her. “I just happened to own a rehabilitative care facility.”

She brushed her finger over the smooth surface of the card, the texture of the raised letters rubbing against her skin. The name Moving Waters caused her to smile. “Fancy that. I have an appointment with one of your employees at the end of the week.”

Surprise registered on his face. “Small world, then. Of course, if you’re anxious to get back in the game, shouldn’t you stop wasting time sitting here talking to me?”

“A friend of mine called in a favor with the owner. Sloane sponsored me so I could have a pass to see if things at Second Circle work for me. Means I only get to play observer tonight.” The costly membership fee had given her pause. But after what she’d observed and her interest in Adam, she hoped to be an active participant soon.

“And do you like what you see?”

“Yes.” She pushed an unsteady hand through her hair. “This place is very different from my old stomping grounds.”

“How so?”

She shook her head, glancing around the exposed space. “Hardware isn’t this…open. There’s a central area where members can congregate, but it’s not nearly as large as this place. Everything there is so closed off. Very isolated.”

“Sounds very secretive.”

“In some ways, yes.” Privacy was an important aspect of Hardware. A key factor she’d liked in New York City because of her starring role in several Broadway shows. Second Circle was just as private, but did so without feeling confined. She’d have to mention something to Master Gibson, the owner of Hardware, when she returned. “But I needed something very removed from my life there while I’m here in Atlanta.”

“And your Dom doesn’t mind you visiting another club while you’re living here?”

“One heck of an assumption you’re making.” She sniffed as her lips pressed together. “Maybe I’m here looking for a sub to play with.”

The corner of his mouth lifted in a sly half smile. He pushed his glass away before lifting a finger to her neck. A chill shot down her side as he stroked condensation from his glass down the column of her throat. If her body grew any hotter, the water would steam.

He shifted closer, pressing his hard body against hers.

When she shivered, his cupped his hand into a fist to grab a handful of her hair. The world closed in around her, tightening until they were the only two people in existence. He tugged, forcing her head back as he stood. Breath whooshed from her lungs as he pressed his body against her arm. They were so close, she could feel the strong, sure beat of his heart against her arm.

Unlike her rapid pulse, his did not waver.

“Stunning.” The soft rumble of his deep chuckle sounded in her ear as he dipped lower. “You were intrigued by Ward’s scene. You wanted to know what it would feel like to be the one experiencing the slaps of his flogger. Even feel the spark of the electricity from the violet wand as he slowly fucked it into your ass.”

He was right on all counts.

A shiver traveled across her back as his lips skimmed the shell of her ear. Her pussy bloomed with heat and wetness, damping the thin lace panties she’d decided to wear tonight.

“Your body kept reaching for the stage because you wanted to be the one tied up and on your knees at a Dom’s mercy.” She held her breath, waiting to hear more of his seductive voice explaining in such exacting detail. “You are very much a submissive, damhsóir.” The sound of the foreign word caused her to finally release a breath as his hand slowly withdrew, his fingers skimming over a few knobs of her spine. Arousal followed everywhere he touched. “Now, I’m not fond of lies. Why don’t you try your answer again?”

The span of time she’d been away from the lifestyle meant she’d forgotten a Dom’s ability to dig deep and expose so much using so very little. “I don’t have a Dom.”

“That’s more like it.”

Swallowing, she gathered the tattered edges of her courage. “Are you asking?”

“Are you offering?”

She blinked. Was she? Crap, she wasn’t supposed to engage in a scene tonight. She wasn’t a member. He’d certainly caught her interest. While the idea was tempting, she reminded herself she’d come here tonight specifically to acclimate to the atmosphere again. She wasn’t ready to jump in with both feet no matter how gorgeous Adam looked, what he promised her or how achy he made her cunt.

Besides, she didn’t want to piss off the owner the first night by not following the rules. She liked this place. A lot. There was something about the club that certainly caught her interest enough to want to sign the membership papers right this very minute.

“No. Not tonight. I came to see if this is the place for me or just wait until I go back home in a few weeks.”

“Fair enough.” His fingers touched the back of her hand. “If you need anything while you’re here, just ask for the welcoming committee.” He winked, brushing away the water ring.

She wondered what kind of show he put on when he took the stage. Most Doms had some kind of specialty they excelled in—flogging, sensation play, water torture, even breath control.

The assortment was as wide and varied as the Doms themselves.

The muscles of his ass flexed under the fabric of his tight jeans as he leaned over a group of people chatting at a table. The sight caused vividly pornographic images to play in her head. With a start, she realized, she may have wanted to be the sub on the stage, but now she didn’t want to be just any sub.

She wanted to be Adam’s sub.