Read RockYourSoul Online

Authors: Sara Brooks

RockYourSoul

Rock Your Soul

Sara
Brookes

 

Book 2 in the Geek Kink series.

 

Beth has been scarred both inside
and out by a sadistic Dom and has worked hard to put the pieces of her life
back together. However, the successful disc jockey knows one piece doesn’t
quite align. She yearns to submit and searches for the one Dom she is convinced
will help bring her to lusty new heights.

When Ryan agrees to assist Beth, he’s
surprised by her determination. Intrigued, he pushes her limits by using his
gifted carpenter’s hands to bring her wild, erotic pleasure. Ryan, though, has
scars of his own, and a tragic past filled with death keeps him at a distance.

Beth discovers what she needs in
Ryan, and her journey mends Ryan’s heart. But when the life Beth abandoned
rises from the shadows, Ryan realizes there is something far worse than his
tortuous past—a future without Beth.

 

Inside Scoop:
Beth’s journey
takes her to some unexpected places, including a scorching-hot ménage with two
sexy men!

 

A
Romantica®
BDSM erotic romance
from Ellora’s Cave

 

Rock Your Soul
Sara Brookes

 

Chapter One

 

“You have arrived.” The mechanical feminine voice rang out
over The Beach Boys song pouring from the car’s speakers.

“Yeah, I’ve arrived all right. Arrived in BFE, you useless
piece of shit,” Beth Lawson grumbled as her car hit another pothole. Some of
those holes were so large she was convinced one would eventually swallow her
sturdy muscle car whole.

The GPS’s aggravating voice started to ring through the
interior again. Gritting her teeth, she punched a finger against the touch
screen. After the long drive from Nashville, she was ready to turn around to
find her hotel so she could collapse into bed. But the thought of what she knew
was at the end of the driveway made her push the accelerator harder. She was
ready to get this new part of her life started, glitchy GPS notwithstanding.

As she sped up, tall reed grass that appeared as if it
hadn’t been cut in over a year slapped at the front grill of her 1970 Dodge
Charger. She winced at the thought of what the blades of rough grass were doing
to the sleek black paint job she’d done last year. Good thing she hadn’t added
the ghost flames to the front end yet or had the chrome bumpers redone.

What kind of person allowed their driveway to become this
overrun? Gomez Addams?

Just as she was about to give up entirely, a dark shape at
the end of the drive caught her attention. The line of soaring pine trees gave
way to a wide, sprawling field lit only by the full moon. A small lake, the
glass-like surface reflecting the tall line of the forest edging the property,
sat off to the side of an impressive workshop. The sturdy building overshadowed
the quaint-looking cabin fronted with a lean-to porch.

Some would call the cabin rustic. She’d call it backwater
and more than likely sorely lacking in the basic necessities—like plumbing or
hot water. Not at all what she expected to find when she’d decided to uproot
her entire life on a whim.

As she pulled next to a sapling and cut the engine, she
stared around the property in confusion. “This can’t be right.” No way in hell
did the skilled craftsman and well-known Dominant Ryan Flynn live in this
hovel. She must have gotten the details wrong.

She dug through her bag for the information she had jotted
down when she’d started on this half-cocked adventure. Verifying the directions
with the GPS, she slumped in the seat.

Right where she needed to be.

Damn.

Her hand trembled against the steering wheel. She tightened
her grip in order to quell the uncontrolled movement. It had been quite some
time since she’d been this nervous. But this was a big step in her life, both
professionally and personally. Being uneasy had to be completely natural given
the situation—at least she hoped so. The overwhelming feeling something wasn’t
fitting into place in her life needed to be addressed.

She needed to start living instead of hiding.

Gathering her courage, she stepped out and frowned when her
shoe immediately sunk into the grass. Cursed heels. She still had no idea what
the big deal was about the damn ankle killers. But the interview she’d just
come from had called for something dressier than her usual casual, laid-back
attire. The sooner she found out if Ryan would help her with her predicament,
the quicker she could check into the bed-and-breakfast and change into
something more comfortable.

Her immense tee-shirt collection never looked so good.

As she shut the car door, she scented a touch of moisture in
the air that hinted at the coming fall. Indian summer. Hot days, cool nights—if
the weather in Virginia was anything like Tennessee.

A warm yellow glow spilled out of the massive building,
highlighting blades of grass that appeared to have been cut recently. So he
took care of the yard near his living space, but not farther out near the road.
People with that exacting level of detail didn’t want other people to pay
attention to them. She’d heard he was a loner, but wow. So far, everything
she’d seen confirmed those rumors. Hopefully he would at least listen to her
proposal first before calling the cops.

Given the unfriendly and pitch-black appearance of the
cabin, she headed for the shop. The scent of freshly cut lumber hit her midway
to the set of wide bay doors. The wonderful smell couldn’t be found anywhere in
all the steel and glass in downtown. Neither could the quiet rasp of metal
against wood signaling hard work with a pair of hands.

Smiling at the combination, she stepped into the puddle of
light on the ground and froze at the sight before her. Gorgeously sloping lines
curved, instantly mesmerizing her. The boat the man worked on was gorgeous too,
but her interest focused on the hunched-over body. The owner of that body
turned, slid his hand over the hull of the boat and met her gaze. Startlingly
clear blue eyes stared at her but didn’t acknowledge her presence. He said
nothing, merely turning his back to finish the next pass on the wood.

Complete and total ignorance.

Well.

Just as her annoyance notched higher, she noticed the
careful way he moved. The trance the man appeared to be in stopped her from
barging in and demanding he listen to her pitch. The muscles of his biceps and
shoulders glided sensuously under the fabric of his white tee. He moved fluidly,
taking his time to caress the wood, working his hands over the intricate lines
as he sought places to smooth away any existing imperfections.

Beth found herself hypnotized by the movement of his body
and simply watched. The hard overhead lights glinted against his sandy-blond
hair, highlighting the paler strands bleached by the sun. Darker-blond hair
covered the lower half of his face, his unkempt beard framing a delectably full
mouth.

Caught up with the gentle sweep of his hands as he moved,
she inexplicably found herself wondering what else those hands could do. How
they would feel tracing over the planes of other things. What it would be like
to have those hands teaching her what she yearned for.

Her imagination went wild, forming images of how the texture
of those rough workman’s hands would feel cupping her breasts. As his mouth
closed over each of her nipples. How the scrape of the shabby hair on his face
would feel as he traced a line of kisses down her abdomen. She all but felt his
hard body against hers as he pressed her body to the shaved wood to run those
talented hands all over her body.

Sure she was openly gawking. With a gorgeous, hardworking
man steps away, she couldn’t help but stare. He probably didn’t intend to look
so hot in those tight jeans, but
damn
he sure managed to be a work of
art in them. Given the quality of the art, ignoring him would have been
downright rude.

And Beth Lawson was anything but rude.

A full ten minutes passed before he stepped away, the heavy
plane he used to shave the wood dangling in his left hand. He let out a heavy
sigh, keeping his head low and his eyes closed. “I don’t often have an audience
while I’m working on a boat.”

Beth jumped, stifling a yelp. “What? Oh sorry. I didn’t mean
to interrupt…she’s beautiful.”

He said nothing as he turned, picking up a towel to brush
the shavings that had collected on his clothing and the tool. She watched as he
scrubbed them into a wide-mouth barrel next to a workbench. He obviously took
his work very seriously. Odd he was so careful considering the floor was
littered with discarded shavings. A loud clank pierced the quiet as he tapped
the side of the tool on the lip of the gray barrel. He stepped over, replacing
the tool alongside a few other strange-looking tools.

The tools of his craft.

Well, at least one of his crafts.

“If you’re looking for Gatlin Falls, you missed the turn
thirty miles back.” He breezed past her, the overwhelming aroma of wood and
hard work clinging to his skin.

She reminded herself she’d come all the way from Tennessee
for a purpose. And it wasn’t to ogle some carpenter in a barn. Or feel as if
she could come simply from hearing the seductive rumble of the man’s deep
voice.

“I’m looking for Ryan Flynn,” she called out after him,
hoping she was the only one who noticed the hint of desperation in her voice.

“Well then today’s your lucky day.” The fraying screen to
the cabin’s door rippled as it slammed shut, the loud bang reverberating off
the grove of trees surrounding the property.

“Not too sure about that,” she muttered as she carefully
picked her way across the uneven path of rocks.
I’m never wearing these
godforsaken things again.

She really should have stopped at the B&B to change out
of her interview clothes before coming all the way out here, but her impatience
had gotten the better of her. Knowing she was in such close proximity to a
highly skilled Dom who could help her was too tempting.

Stopping would have just wasted time.

The door opened just as she reached the end of the porch and
once again, she was left dumbstruck. The man had taken off his shirt and ratty
work boots, standing before her wearing only a pair of sawdust-covered jeans
and holding a towel. Based on the sight of the hard lines of his muscles, and
the six-pack abdomen, her imagination hadn’t done him justice. Her mind’s idea
of what lay under his sweaty shirt didn’t even compare to the reality standing
before her.

She forced herself to swallow when she realized her mouth
had gone dry. “I came to speak to you about a boat.” When he tilted his head
and narrowed his eyes, she blushed. It was as if he could see right through her
lie. “All right, so that’s not entirely true.”

“Having a hard time making up your mind?”

“I know who you are.” His expression darkened. She rushed
ahead, anxious not to blow the opportunity. “Granted, you’re one of the
preeminent boat builders in the world, but you’re also one of the most highly
respected Doms in the community.” His deep frown caused her to second-guess her
choice to come out here uninvited. He was certainly intimidating, no doubt
about that.

“Typically, members solicit my services through the club.”

“Club? Oh right.” Beth snapped her fingers. “She mentioned
there was a club nearby. I’m not a member of a club. Not Element Twenty-Six, at
least. The recommendation for you came from a friend.” His hands settled on his
hips, a gesture that drew her eye to his abdomen again. She cursed herself for
staring at all those hard muscles and forced her gaze upward.

“And your friend would be?”

“Elena Mitchell.”

Ryan snorted. “Figures. Always sticking her nose in where it
doesn’t belong. At least it wasn’t Patrick this time.” He scowled as he dropped
the towel onto a rocking chair.

“Patrick?”

“Just a friend.”

“Elisbeth Lawson.” She stuck her hand out in offering, but
he ignored the gesture.

“Mind moving your tank?”

She blinked a few times. “What?” What kind of manners did
this guy have? She’d just told him she was here because he’d come as a highly
recommended Dom, introduced herself and he was worried about where she’d
parked. Was he serious?

“You parked your car on my flowers.” His fingers hooked
around an elaborate silver belt buckle as he jerked his chin.

“Oh.” She glanced over her right shoulder, noticing she had
indeed pulled over a ring of brightly colored asters circling the base of the
young tree. “Sorry about that. I’ll move—” When she turned to face him again,
she swallowed the rest of her statement.

The hard glare he gave her made her blood run so cold, she
immediately reassessed her brash decision to uproot her life to seek out this
man. The coldness of his expression made her want to turn around and forget
she’d even talked to her old college roommate about something so ludicrous.
She’d dropped everything to come here. No family. No connections in the small
town save for Elena. Surely she had to be insane.

No I’m not. I know I can do this. I’ve already come so
far. I need to do this.

Fighting her nerves and doubts, she dug her heels in. “Elena
gave you a glowing recommendation. She said you could help me with my…problem.”

“And just what would that
problem
be?” He moved in
the blink of an eye, pushing closer to invade her space. Her breath caught as
his body pressed against hers, the scent of his drying sweat hitting her full
force.

She’d always been a sucker for a hardworking man.

She stood her ground, unwilling to give an inch. She needed
his help too much to back down. “There was an incident with my last Dom.” She
didn’t think it was physically possible, but he pushed even closer. At this
distance, his body heat radiated into her. The proximity of his very fit, very
toned body made her nearly forget why she’d come here. “Actually, more than a
few incidents.”

“Elaborating on what you mean by
incidents
would
probably help.”

Swallowing, she steadied her nerves. This was information he
needed to know. Information she knew was key to the agreement she wanted to
make with him. If she hoped to gain anything from this, she would need to
disclose her folly. “A few years ago, I was somewhat new to the lifestyle. Ethan
took advantage of my enthusiasm to learn. He saw it as an open invitation to do
whatever he wanted.”

“He didn’t respect your safeword.”

“What safeword?” Beth snorted, remembering how disastrous
that conversation had gone. “According to him, I had to earn the right to have
one. He took it as a personal offense when I finally got smart and asked for
some means of calling for the end of a scene. When he flatly refused, I left.”

“He is an ass.”

“You’re right, he is. But he has a few buddies who wouldn’t
agree with you.” Emotion flashed in his eyes. She liked this protective
instinct he seemed to have. That kind of behavior was probably something she
should have looked for in a Dom long ago.

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