Rescued in Paradise

  Evernight Publishing

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2014 Nicole Christianson

  ISBN: 978-1-77130-898-4

  Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

  Editor: Brieanna Robertson

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  A very special thank you goes to my family for their constant support and encouragement. I especially appreciate the tolerance or my time spent writing. Love you all!

  A special thank you to my many virtual friends. You know who you are. Without your encouragement, I would have never even considered writing.

  Finally, to Evernight and the wonderful staff who made the process a pleasure and gave me a voice.

  RESCUED IN PARADISE

  Paradise, 1

  Nicole Christianson

  Copyright © 2014

  Chapter One

  Arriving at Club Paradise later than her usual time of nine o’clock, Sydney checked her appearance in the rear view mirror once more, making sure her hair and makeup were presentable before stepping out of her car. Locking the door behind her, she made her way to the club entrance. Well past ten p.m., she noticed the parking lot was filling rather quickly with eager bodies ready for their night to begin.

  The club was built in a remote area where only a few warehouses shared the roughly five-mile clearing, giving the members plenty of privacy when they arrived. The owner thought of everything, all the way down to the security cameras strategically placed on the various electrical poles and towers as far back as a mile in either direction. That little bit of information she heard while eavesdropping on a group of security personnel one night.

  Months prior, Sydney Carter’s close friend and co-worker, Tonya, brought her as a guest on Beginner’s Night, a once a week open house event at the club. It was designed so that newcomers could explore the BDSM lifestyle. It afforded a chance to see whether or not it truly suited them, or if the reason for their curiosity was those damn Fifty Shades of Grey books every housewife was ranting and raving about.

  Yes, she’d read the Fifty Shades books, but her overall reasoning behind finally visiting with her friend was that deep down, she sensed she was a submissive woman in the bedroom. Whenever anything sexual was involved, that little voice in her head kept telling her she needed to be dominated, but it was too taboo of a thought, so she kept it to herself, not understanding what it was she really wanted and needed.

  For years she had felt that was the reason why all her sexual rendezvous were lacking. Partners were unable to bring her any further than a generic release that could have been achieved by her own hand. At twenty-six, all hope of achieving anything more was beginning to diminish. Her eyes had been opened on Beginner’s Night, and she returned soon after, ready.

  It wasn’t until that night, that she understood the reason why. None of her previous lovers were like the men she encountered at Paradise. At the club, they were dominating and passionate, everything she had ever secretly dreamed about and more. Much, much more because her mind and senses were all engaged in the play. The added sensations of pain, heat, cold, edging all played out to bring her to a higher plane. Ever since that night, she had launched into her training, frequenting the club at least three to four nights a week.

  Strolling up to the front entrance, she climbed the narrow stairs behind a well-known Master with his beautiful slave. As she took in their attire, she noticed the couple was decked out in fine, matching black leather from head to toe. A thin chain hung from the woman's black leather collar, fastened by a heavy, rounded hook. The pattern on the leather was breathtaking, row after row of woven tethers in an almost Celtic design. It was intricate and stunning. A lot of thought and love went into choosing such a piece, a gift of elegance from her Master, no doubt.

  The Dom, who must have been relieving one of the regular bouncers for a bit by manning the front doors, looked them over once before greeting them properly. “Master Tomas,” he intonated, and the men shook hands. He made a respectful gesture—hand politely posed up in question toward Master T’s bowed slave. Master Tomas gave a curt nod, and the acting bouncer addressed the collared slave for the first time since the pair had walked up to them. “Good evening, Feeah.”

  Feeah remained quiet, as if waiting for something.

  Master Tomas spoke. “You may answer, little one.”

  Feeah’s response was immediate. “Good evening, Master K.”

  Master K proceeded to open the oversized crimson doors, allowing the pair to pass. Everyone who worked in the club was required to know every single member on the list not only by face, but by their full names.

  Taking the last few steps toward the entrance, her heels clicking as they made contact with each stone on the concrete staircase, Sydney smiled coyly before lowering her eyes in respect, knowing full well who the burly man was. Master Kane. She remembered seeing him on numerous occasions in the club with several different seasoned subs. Master Kane liked to work his subs rather hard, excelling at needle work as well as handling the long whip. One of the more intense scenes she’d witnessed involved what a few onlookers described as a pierced corset. She had been unable to tear her eyes from the breathtaking procedure he performed in the designated medical play area. Each delicate piercing was a work of art. Once he was finished, he threaded a silk purple ribbon through each hoop residing along each side of his sub-for-the-evening’s spine. She had gasped in amazement. It had been a gorgeous sight. It took someone with a high tolerance to pain to work with him. Just the thought made Sydney shiver in apprehension. So far, she hadn’t been pushed to those extremes, but was eager to try. Maybe soon.

  “Lift your eyes, pet,” Master Kane said in a smooth voice. She was sure it made women fall at his feet and beg for a chance to submit to him.

  Bringing her eyes back up, she squared her shoulders. He gave her an appreciative once-over before opening the door for her. Her body instantly responded to his inspection, her nipples pebbling to taut buds, hard enough to cut glass. Tall, dark, and sexy noticed her reaction and grinned. One night, she would definitely consider approaching him for some playtime.

  “Yes, sir. Thank you.” She was glad she decided on a bright blue and black corset that accentuated her full breasts, lifting them so they were almost ready to burst free of the top edges of the hem that now showcased her arousal. The beautiful piece paired perfectly with an extremely small black leather mini skirt that stopped just short of the top of her thighs. With four-inch stiletto heels to give her a few much-needed inches, the combination was the most provocative set she owned.

  By no means short, she cleared five-foot-seven, however, most of the Doms at the club were at least six feet or taller. They came in all shapes— lean, muscular, and in between. One thing they all seemed to have in common was that they weren’t hard to miss. Even a blind person would be able to recognize the aura around them. In their own unique ways, the Doms in the club could all be classified as sex gods. They were walking fantasies.

  Master K grinned, pushing the door wide open, and those sexy dimples surfaced. Damn, he really was handsome. His thick, dark caramel hair looked almost black in the dim light and was paired with the most mesmerizing sapphire eyes she had ever seen with specks of gold rimming the iris, making them shine br
ight. A tight black shirt with the club emblem on the right corner just above his right pectoral showcased his muscular physique. The material was straining against his biceps, threatening to rip if he moved the wrong way. She would have loved to be that shirt right then, wrapped around his tanned form.

  Biting her lip, she looked away. Maybe one day she would have the nerve to approach him for a session. Flicking her tongue against the back of her teeth in contemplation, she ran her eyes over him once more. Yeah, maybe one day. With a smile, she passed by his side, her arm brushing over his lightly as she moved. Crossing the threshold into the lobby, she heard the door click shut behind her.

  Lifting the ink pen up off the receptionist’s desk, she signed her name on the register. The foyer was eloquently designed. The décor reminded her of a castle for kings in the Mediterranean. Lush, vibrant colors were scattered strategically throughout the opulent space. On every surface rested crystal vases with freshly cut bouquets of flowers in every hue one could imagine. Their fragrance always smelled heavenly. Heavy burgundy drapes covered the floor-length bay windows, drowning out the outside world and affording privacy to those inside. It was a private oasis.

  Heading to the women’s locker room, where members normally stored their personal belongings and often showered and changed, she sought out her assigned space.

  Moving down the row of medium-sized metallic doors, she found her number. Syd punched in the code, swinging the small door open, and placed her purse in the small, rectangular box provided. The room was crowded with women prepping and cleaning up while getting ready for their nights. A few early arrivers walked by as they finished gathering their belongings. If it wasn’t for the long hours she put in at her job, most likely that would have been her, retiring earlier in the night. Taking a deep breath, she closed the locker back up and tested to make sure it was secure before pivoting on her heel to exit the room. As she made her way down the long corridor heading toward where the main club room and the full service bar was, one thought crossed her mind. She was in need of a serious drink, maybe even two.

  A presentation she had been working on day and night for over three weeks was scheduled for the next morning and she was extremely nervous. If all went well and the board members were pleased, it would likely result in her being given the promotion she’d been dreaming of for so long. Yeah, a few drinks to calm her rattled nerves were needed. This place was where she felt safest. Right now, that was comforting because if a scene didn’t come to pass and she became intoxicated, the club employees would make sure nothing bad happened.

  Chapter Two

  Making his usual rounds for the evening, Connor Bradley stopped and spoke to some of the club members while overseeing the various public floor sessions that were in progress. Part of his job as co-owner was to make sure that there were no rules being broken and that all acts were indisputably safe, sane, and consensual. That was a strict motto they all lived by— never take another without following the creed to a tee.

  After a full circle around the club that ended back at the main bar and adjoining area, he scanned the large crowd. The main floor was packed. Lone members, as well as partners, were in various stage of dress, from fully covered to almost or completely nude. Grinding bodies moved in sync with the seductive beat thumping through the speakers of the state-of-the-art sound system. Inhaling deeply, he could actually smell the arousal and perspiration in the air. Damn, he could enjoy that heady mix all night, never tiring of the unique aroma.

  A low growl rumbled his chest when he saw her saunter through the doors. Sydney. Long, thick auburn curls cascaded over her shoulders down to the center of her back, bouncing as she moved gracefully. He wanted nothing more than to thread his fingers through the silky strands while he buried himself in her. That gorgeous mane, coupled with the most piercing blue eyes he had ever seen, had been his undoing the first time he laid eyes on her. They looked like round icebergs that highlighted her angelic, heart-shaped face. Perfection. He could not take his eyes off the sexy as hell women as she sashayed over to the bar, sliding her perfectly shaped derriere onto one of the empty bar stools. The outfit she was wearing displayed every delicious curve of her body flawlessly. Instantly, the front of his leathers became tight as fuck, the length of his shaft tapping the rigid metal tongs of the zipper. His cock was just begging to be set free...by her. Every time he laid eyes on her since she joined the club a few months prior, his reaction was the same. Only she had that instant effect on his libido.

  Pushing his way through the throng of grinding, half-naked bodies on the dance floor, Connor was stopped every few feet to talk to member after member who approached him. A couple of the subs made it very clear that they wanted to be his for the evening, and he was very tempted to take them up on the offer. His eyes, however, kept straying back to the beauty on the barstool, sipping on what looked from a distance to be a fruity cocktail. He openly stared. Mesmerized, he clandestinely watched her full lips wrap around the thin, multi-colored straw, her cheeks hollowing out as she sucked the liquid into her mouth.

  His mind conjured up multiple images of those lips doing just that as they slid up and down his shaft, gripping him firmly as they moved. Those cheeks of hers hollowing out to take him as far down her throat as she could manage. That particular mental scenario kept him up most nights. No, he instinctively knew she could take every inch of his cock. If she were unable to, he would teach her how.

  Fuck! Shaking his head when one of the newer Doms asked him a question, he broke out of his current fantasy. He was hard as stone; his cock felt like it was suffocating in the tight confines of his leathers, all from just that one image of her. He’d tried for so long to keep his distance from the seemingly obedient seductress, but the longer he tried, the harder it was to watch her play with the other men. One of the few times she had been part of a public session, he wanted to literally rip off the head of the Dom she was working with. He wanted to be the one to take her to her pinnacle. He wanted her to be his, and only his.

  When she’d first started to frequent the club, she was fairly new to the scene, merely hearing and reading about the lifestyle for the most part. She started to come as a guest with her friend. After a few visits, she asked to fill out the appropriate forms to become a full member, and he felt obligated to let her blossom on her own before ever trying to make a move on her.

  Trying his best to listen to the gentleman who approached him, he leaned in closer to compensate for basically ignoring him for those few moments while he was lost in thought.

  “I'm sorry, what was that?” Connor tried to make it appear as if he couldn't hear the other man over the blaring music.

  The man started over and he managed to follow the conversation until, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Master Dorian closing in on Sydney. Dorian was one of the Doms who had been with the club for a quite a while. He was a friend and colleague, and Connor thought highly of him. Sydney, however, was off limits.

  “My apologies, I have something I have to attend to. It is rather urgent,” he hurriedly relayed to the Dom. He was so focused on Sydney, he forgot what the man’s name was. “Go to the receptionist on your way out and make an appointment so we can get together with no interruptions to take care of everything you require, alright?”

  The man nodded, momentarily pacified with the offer, and Connor wasted no time pushing through the horde of people blocking his way to the damn bar.

  As he got closer, he saw the young Dom's hand skim up the outside of Sydney's thigh, lightly caressing the bare flesh. Connor’s hands involuntarily clenched. By the time he reached them, Syd was already sliding those slender legs off the stool to the floor, dipping her head down.

  Oh hell no! he thought as fire practically spewed from his nostrils. Walking up behind Sydney, he placed his hands on her shoulders to keep her still. He knew he startled her when she jumped slightly and snapped her head around without so much as moving her body. Pinning her with a hard glare, he turned
his attention back to Dorian when she twisted her head back around. Her silky locks brushed over the tops of his hands. The simple touch had him wanting to grip her hair in his fist, tilt her head to the side, and gain the access he needed to run his tongue along the curvature of the most sensitive part of the neck. To refrain from acting on his impulses, he squared his shoulders and looked directly at the man who was currently interested in his Sydney.

  “I'm sorry, Dorian, but tonight, this beautiful creature is mine.” He spoke in an even tone, but by the look on Dorian’s face, he managed to get his meaning across. Subconsciously, he wanted to make sure that the tall, muscular Dom knew he was staking his claim.

  The grip he had on her shoulders tightened when Dorian grinned at him, taking her hand in his own and pressing two light kisses on her knuckles. It pissed him off even more when he felt a little shiver overtake her body. Prick. Dorian purposely did that to rouse him, but he would not give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Straightening to his full six foot, three inches, he kept his face emotionless. Well, at least as emotionless as he could manage right then.

  Dorian's sly grin turned into an outright smile. Connor really wanted nothing more than to punch him in his playboy face to knock that damn smile off of it.

  The younger man took a step closer to Sydney and said, “Tomorrow night, pet. You will come find me when you arrive. You will be mine then. Do you understand?”

  In a bold move Connor wasn't expecting, he planted a kiss on her lips. You have got to be fucking kidding me, he thought. Dorian was trying to rile him up, and it worked. Before Sydney had a chance to make a move or reply, he stepped around her and pushed the young man backwards to get him away from her. He knew what he did was crossing the line, but the cocky ass prick had purposely provoked him.