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  Devil’s Boudoir Series

  Secret Desire

  By Robin McKnight

  Published by Horny Devil Publishing

  Copyright 2013 Robin McKnight

  ISBN 978-1-62518-053-7

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Devil ’ s Boudoir Series: Secret Desire Copyright © 2013 Robin McKnight

  Edited by Frank Lee and Colette Stone

  Cover art by Dee Allen

  Electronic book publication

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Horny Devil Publishing LLC, P.O. Box 2508, Palm City, FL 34991.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. ( http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/ ). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to anyone who’s ever been afraid to be honest with themselves, and to everyone who’s ever taken a chance on love, even when it means facing your own deepest secrets.

  Chapter One

  Shrill ringing pierced the decadent quiet of the early morning in Evan’s private room at the Devil’s Boudoir . Despite her deliciously sore body’s protest, Rissa leaned over the edge of the bed, rummaging through the discarded, and after last night, shredded clothes for her cell phone. Sleep-blurred vision made it difficult for her to read the caller ID, so she d idn’t even try.

  “Hello?” A groggy, sleep-drenched voice purred out of her, but the sedate tone only lasted a moment.

  “Hello, Ms . Trent? This is Maria Malone with the police department. We have a young man here who gave us your name as his emergency contact. We picked up Mr. Deacon Cain around two this morning for drunk and disorderly conduct. He’s over at St . Andrew’s hospital being treated for alcohol poisoning. He’s still under arrest, but we need someone to sign the hospital paperwork, then we can take it from there.” The woman on the other end of the line seemed calm and rational; Rissa was anything but. A litany of emotions jumbled in her head, but she’d decide how to feel after the shock of it all wore off.

  “Ok . I’ll be there as soon as I can . Deacon doesn’t have any real family, so I guess I’ll have to do for now.” Extracting herself from the warm cocoon of Evan’s body, sh e padded to the bathroom. Evan had done as he always did and washed her after they’d scened, but she needed a shower to wake her up more than anything else. A jarring jolt of cold water streaming from the massaging shower head was enough to wake her up, clearing the fog of sleep and shock from her mind.

  Her long, chocolate tresses pulled back in a ponytail, she grabbed a set of yoga pants and a tank from the stash of spares she kept at the club then pulled on her tennis shoes. She didn’t bother with a bra or panties, because hopefully, she could sign the papers and be right back here in Evan’s arms before the sun finished coming up. Her last exchange with her ex, Deacon, hadn’t gone so well ; she had no desire to see him for any reason. The loneliness he’d left in his wake had been replaced by the love she had for Evan along with the overwhelming love he had for her. The last thing she needed in her life was someone who thought the things about her that Evan nurtured and loved so much made her a n undesirable freak, but she couldn’t just leave him in the hospital. If he’d given her name, it meant he was really bad off. The conscience in her wouldn’t let her turn her back on him, no matter what he’d done to her .

  Crawling back up into the bed, she kissed a sleeping Evan, letting him know where she was going and that she’d be back as soon as possible .

  “Don’t let the bed get cold, please . I’ll be back before you even have a chance to miss me.” She grabbed her track jacket from the closet as well as her car keys then jogged up the underground club’s staircase to the lingerie shop upstairs. Keying in the alarm code, she let herself out onto the street, more than a little taken aback by the sting of an icy wind. She hugged her jacket close quickly climbing into her little black BMW, thankful for the heated seats, and even more thankful that there were no cops on the street between the club and the hospital. She wanted to get in, get out; get back to Evan’s bed and capable hands as quickly as possible. Speed limits were more like recommendations for people who didn’t know how to handle the horses under their hoods anyway.

  *****

  Deacon jerked his arm against the restraints cuffing him to the hospital bed railing. His usually perfectly coiffed, deep blonde hair was a mussed and tangled mess that looked like it hadn’t been washed or combed in days. A thin, glassy sheen coated his dark brown eyes; every vein in his body seemed to stand out from his pale skin. He barely looked like himself, but his attitude was ever present. Cocky self-importance and intolerance for being manhandled by male nurses created the impetus for the myriad of profanities that spilled from his room out into the hallway. Despite his pounding head, he roared at everyone who came near him, spitting vile insults at the officers standing just outside the door. His stomach had already been pumped, so his lips were tinted a deep purple by the charcoal. The IVs in his arms helping to treat his alcohol poisoning were stretched tight as he thrashed and tried to break free of the restraints. The alcohol still working its way out of his system made him more ornery than usual; the crash that was coming was going to be a killer.

  “Under arrest? What do you mean, under arrest?! It’s not illegal for a grown ass man to drown his sorrows in a bottle of bourbon, you dick heads! I wasn’t hurting anybody! Under arrest?! Arrest this!” His hips thrust up, and he humped the air as he slung his last statement at the officers. Their rolling eyes did nothing to stem his ire. He continued to be a royal pain in the ass to everyone around him.

  He couldn’t remember much, thanks to his drunken stupor, and he preferred it that way. He’d proposed to the money, er, girl , he thought he wanted to spend the rest of his life with and she’d not only turned him down, she’d done it at his birthday party in front of all of their friends . Then to add a giant kick in the balls to that little insult, she ran off with his best friend of twenty years. A simple “no thank you” would have suffice d. He’d given the officer Rissa’s name to call, but he wouldn’t be surprised if she left him there to rot. Honestly, h e wouldn’t blame her if she did . He’d been a dick to her ; he knew it, and now look where he was. Utterly alone, homeless, and quickly gaining a reputation as a shiftless, drunken hobo with a police record to match. Since Mystie had run off with his best friend, he was living out of his car, showering in the sink at work. For such an independently wealthy woman, she’d had no shame about emptying his bank account , draining him dry. Finally quieting down as the last vestiges of his drunken rage began to subside, he resigned himself to the fact that Rissa wasn’t going to come fo r him. I n her shoes, he wouldn’t either . When he heard her voice from just outside the door tangled amongst the gruffer voices of the officers who’d brought him in, he just rolled over, his back to the door. How could he face her now after everything he ’d done to her?

  **
***

  “You must be Ms . Trent. I’m Officer Dalton, and this is Officer Marino. We found Mr. Cain in an alleyway off First surrounded by empty liquor bottles. He was groping everything in a skirt that passed by. They’ve pumped his stomach, but it doesn’t look like he’s eaten in a while . Pretty sure he was trying to drink himself into oblivion, because his blood alcohol content was high enough that we brought him in to be treated for alcohol poisoning. You can see him, you’ll need to sign the hospital paperwork, but when he’s released, we’ll have to take him down to the station . He’ll be bo oked in, but it’s a misdemeanor , so he can post bond and you can take him home; he’ll just have to come back to court on the scheduled date.” The officer was nice enough, although he sounded more like he pitied the pathetic drunk than anything else.

  “Thank you, sir . I’ll talk to him , find out what’s going on, then I’ll sign the papers and you can take him. I’m not taking him home , though. I’ ll give you his girlfriend’s number . Y ou can call her to take him home.” Stepping past the officers and into the room behind them, she stopped dead in her tracks a moment before slowly approaching the side of the bed. He was chained like some animal; she almost didn’t recognize him . He was usually so well put together with perfectly-styled golden hair and perfectly-pressed designer clothing, but this trembling, filthy, pitiful excuse for a man was someone completely different.

  “Deacon? What the hell did you get yourself into? Why did you call me? I left the warmth of a very good man to come down here, and I gotta say I’m not all that impressed . Where’s your Barbie at anyway? She should be here, not me. ” Her tone was more accusatory than she’d in tended, but what the hell was she supposed to do? He wasn’t her responsibility anymore, and she wasn’ t his. That had been his choice.

  “I’m sorry, Riss . I didn’t think you’d actually come . And she’s gone.” At first his voice had been pathetic, almost begging, but then when she mentioned his girlfriend, his eye brows snapped together as he turned over to face Rissa. His teeth clenched together, his voice was barely more civilized than that of a rabid wolf. Clearly, she’d stepped on a nerve, yet she was tempted to stomp all over it, because let’s face it, he had it coming . However, she couldn’t do that . Revenge wasn’t really in her repertoire; hurting him more wouldn’t help anybody .

  “What do you mean, she’s gone? Like gone to get a cup of coffee, shagging the doc on his break, what kind of gone? Last I heard you were picking out engagement rings with pink diamonds, how can she be gone?” Rissa stood back from the bed, her arms crossed over her chest, putting a good distance between them — not only because he smelled like an ash tray that someone pissed in and then dunked in bourbon, but also because if she got too close to him, she’d actually feel sorry for him .

  “Yeah, I was . She probably is shagging someone right now. That someone just isn’t me . It’s Mark . Long story short, the tramp dumped me while I was down on one knee and ran off to Fiji with Mark in front of damn near everyone I know. And on my birthday no less. I really just …I don’t want to talk about it, Riss. Just go. I’ll figure this out on my own . I shouldn’t have given the cops your name. Go back to your man, have a nice life.” He rolled over, giving her his back, but his pouting posture finally snapped her composure, making her close the distance between them.

  “No, Deacon . You don’t get to do that . You do not get to tell me to go away or that you don’t want to talk about it . You don’t get to avoid the same pain you put me through, and you sure as hell don’t get to take me away from Evan at an ungodly hour to come down here to deal with your drama. Not after everything you’ve done, so roll over because you know what? We are going to talk about it, and I’m going to fix this for you because I’m a bigger person ; I’m a better person than you will ever be. Even though I wanted desperately for you to know firsthand the heartache you caused me, I’ve learned that living a good life— a happy life — is the best revenge. Karma’s a bitch, but I don’t have to be one , so sit up, wipe that oh-poor-me look off your face and get a grip on yourself because you don’t get to play the victim. Not this time.”

  The words spit out of her mouth before she could stop them, her breath was labored, her heart was racing, but he needed to know that he couldn’t treat people like shit and then expect to be treated with kid gloves when Karma finally stomped on his balls. Standing over him with her finger in his face, her other hand gripped the bed railing in a white-knuckled grasp. Eve rything she’d wanted to tell him came flying out of her mouth, and she couldn’t be bothered to care in the least . She’d been so busy spouting off, it was n’t until she’d finished her rant that she noticed the look on Deacon’s face. Disbelief along with a bit of shock at the strength of her ire were written over his pale features. She’d always been strong, but her upbringing taught her to hold her tongue regardless of what she thought in the name of manners. T hat’s how she’d been when she was with Deacon— and look where that had gotten her. Being with Evan changed her. B eing Evan’s sub made her stronger; gave her the strength to speak her mind. It was just pure coincidence that Deacon was on the receiving end of her newly-harnessed power. “Don’t look at me like that.” She still had more to say, and dammit, he was going to listen to every last word before she’d help him.

  “You were an embarrassingly abhorrent person with an atrocious personality. Look where your greed and selfishness got you. Karma ’ s got your balls in a blender, but guess what, princess, the world doesn’t revolve around you. There are people way worse off than you, so untuck your dick from between your legs, quit acting like a little girl, build a bridge, get over it, and try not to b urn this one.” Without giving him a chance to respond, she turned around and stomped off to find the doctor, sign the forms, and get this truly fucked-up show on the road.

  Watching her sashay out the door, for the first time in his life, he actually felt … ashamed of himself. He ’d been a dick. Now, he was paying for it. The universe sure had a way of exacting retribution in the most excruciating way possible. Pushing himself up in the bed, he stopped struggling, resigning himself to take whatever punishment she felt the need to dish out. He deserved it, and as much as he hated to admit it, he needed it. He didn’t know what scared him more— the fact that Rissa looked like she wanted to give him a brand new orifice or that he might enjoy the punishment.

  Chapter Two

  With all the papers signed at the hospital, and the bond for drunk and disorderly posted, Rissa sat with Deacon in the front seat of her car, thankful the doctors had made him shower and swapped his filthy clothes for a set of clean scrubs . Parked outside Leather and Lace, she hesitated about taking Deacon into the inner sanctum of what he viewed as deviant behavior, but the alternatives were non-existent. He’d left her home when they split to move in with the busty bimbo who had left him for Mark, leaving him homeless as well as broke. That left him nowhere to go but straight into what he probably viewed as the Den of Iniquity , but this place had become an extension of Rissa’s home , so he had damn well better behave.

  “Ok, listen to me. I don’t owe you a damn thing, so you don’t get any leeway. Take advantage of or piss all over my good graces, and you’ll be dumpster diving again before lunch. Don’t say anything, don’t look at anybody, and keep your hands to yourself.” His tentative nod gave her a moment’s pause, but she handed him one of Evan’s coats that he’d left in her car then shoved him out the door. Once inside Leather and Lace, she told him to sit tight by the counter before going to find Eve, the woman who ran the store.

  “Eve? It’s Riss. I need some help for a minute. ” The busty, leggy-blonde wore her hair in a short pixie; it was the only soft thing about her. Her blood-red nails were adorned with a black baroque pattern, and her thigh-high boots and black corset didn’t lend themselves to a flirty femininity very well at all.

  “Hey Rissa, give me just a second , baby.” She ducked into a dressing room with a customer as Rissa realized how much of her day had been waste
d dealing with Deacon’s drama . She had to stifle a giggle when she heard Eve’s voice from under the door . “If a midget can use it as a shade tree, it’s time to shave the kitty . Pussy grooming isn’t just for cats anymore . Trust me, in that piece, you want everything to look smooth, and so will that future husband of yours.” The girl ’s protest at Eve’s suggestion of waxing made Rissa giggle. “Beauty is pain, baby, and so is pleasure. Trust me on this one. I’ve been around the block a few times.”

  “Ok, Rissa, doll, what can I help you with and who’s your friend in the ugly pea- green paper bag?” Eve’s eyes looked Deacon up and down. Rissa could swear she caught a hint of a wicked smile which meant Eve’s wheels were turning, but she brushed it off as curiosity. The look on Deacon’s face, ho wever, was harder to brush off as the stunning woman came out of the dressing room, stomping toward them the way runway models stomp down a catwalk. His was one of pure lust.

  “Thi s is my ex, Deacon. It’s a long , tragically boring story, but he’s homeless and coming down from a nasty bourbon bender. I picked him up from the hospital this morning and just bailed his ass out of jail, but I can’t leave him without a place to stay. Can you watch him a minute? I need to talk to Evan. I’m sure he’ll be pissed, but I don’t know what else to do.” Rissa worried her bottom lip, tapping her foot nervously, but at the end of the day, she had to do what she knew was right. Damned conscience was an inconvenience.

  “Are you sure you’re not the one who’s drunk, Riss? Evan could never be pissed at you. The way that man loves you, you could do just about anything, and he’d still give you the world . The way you two are always wrapped in your own little world, I doubt he’d even notice the extra person around anyway. That man sees nothing but you. It’s adorable, but it must be exhausting loving someone that much.”

  Eve was only half teasing. She was the only steady Domme in the club, and Evan made an exception to the committed couples only rule for her. A string of bad decisions along with deeply rooted pain had left her almost dead, but Evan had given her a home. He owned Leather and Lace, had given it to Eve to run to help keep her out of trouble and give her a purpose. As part of her pay, she was permitted to use a private room in the club, provided she had club security do a full background check on the people she brought down there. Her last sub had been nice, always very friendly, but he never really seemed like he was a genuine part of the lifestyle; Eve deserved someone who could be committed to her. She deserved a sub who would submit to her as fully as Rissa did to Evan, even if she would never admit that’s what she really wanted . For Eve, submissives, and men in general, were play things to be used for mutual satisfaction then sent home in a cab. They rarely stayed more than one night, and they never formed a real emotional connection. To Rissa, that sounded terrible, but for Eve, it was how she preferred things, and it worked for her. Still, Rissa and Evan both hoped Eve would find someone that would stick around for more than a couple of scenes in the club.