If you’ve never read a Lauren Jameson/Lauren Hawkeye book you have missed out on some amazing reads. In her latest erotic romance Lauren shifts the balance and gives an Alpha Male who’s a submissive in the bedroom. Now this normally isn’t my cup of tea, but it’s Lauren so I’m reading it, and so should you because it’s freaking awesome. So here’s a snippet from the book.
Scarlett perched on a barstool inside In Vino Veritas, sipping at the glass of buttery chardonnay that Luca had gifted her.
After the encounter outside, she had been unable to stop herself from searching for the handsome stranger once she was inside. A few male submissives had tried to catch her eye, but she found herself strangely uninterested.
“Look at me.” Scarlett whispered. She’d been watching the man for a good five minutes, but he hadn’t yet looked her way. He hadn’t looked anyone’s way, actually, seeming focused on his drink.
As if he’d heard her speak, though, he turned and met her stare. Scarlett’s fingers clutched on her wine glass briefly before relaxing, and butterflies began to do a wild dance of excitement in her belly.
He reminded her of a tethered animal, restrained but only just. A heavy rock settled on top of the butterflies in her gut when she realized that the chances of this man being her type—being sexually submissive—were slim indeed.
At least eight inches taller than her own five foot six, he wore his raw masculinity like he wore the faded denim that molded to thick, muscular thighs and a tight ass that made her want to sink her teeth into it. His hair shone gold in the low crimson lights of the club, glinting as he lifted a bottle of domestic beer to his lips and reminding Scarlett of nothing so much as an ancient Viking heading to battle.
When he lowered that amber bottle of beer—no fancy wine for him—and continued to stare at her with those piercing cobalt blue eyes Scarlett felt the desire like a punch in the chest. She couldn’t explain it and certainly hadn’t been looking for it—she was only looking for a playmate for this one night, a willing submissive on which to test her newly minted skills as a Mistress.
Scarlett held his gaze, her heart pounding in her throat. She might have been fairly new to the games of Dominance and submission, but it was still far from her first time in this club. And yet she’d never felt attraction like this before. Never. Especially not to a man who looked like he would eat her alive if she let him.
When the man finally broke the stare, casting his eyes to the ground, Scarlett frowned, feeling a bit perplexed. Had he lost interest? Because surely she hadn’t imagined the indefinable connection between them, the one that had sparked outside and now only pulled tighter with each passing moment.
She knew it wasn’t all one sided. It couldn’t be.
She let her stare drop as well, following his line of sight. Her eyes stroked over the biceps, the forearms that were tightly corded with muscle—the arms of a man who used them for a living. When she came to his wrists she stopped short.
Wrapped around the narrowest part of the man’s arms were yellow cuffs—golden yellow leather, with metal rings meant for attaching to restraints on the various pieces of equipment around the club.
These were the yellow cuffs that the club had their seasoned submissives wear—the cuffs that signalled that the man or woman who wore them was looking for a Master or Mistress to play with.
Inhaling shakily as adrenaline burst through her veins, Scarlett forced the fingers that had unconsciously clenched once more around the stem of her wineglass to relax.
As she’d watched him, she had hoped he could maybe, possibly be a submissive. But the way he was dressed, she couldn’t tell.
And he hadn’t lowered his gaze when she’d first caught his eye, either outside or here in the playroom, which told her that while he might have marked himself as a submissive, he wasn’t going to be taken down easily.
Subs like that could eat an unwary Mistress alive. But still, arousal made her flush. Could she really be lucky enough to have found what she so desired so deeply—a man strong enough to dominate, but who chose to walk the submissive side?
She might have been green, but she had no intention of screwing this up. Everything about the man attracted her—the way his size made her feel small, the intensity in his eyes, the feral energy that surrounded him.
Topping him would be like taming a lion, and she couldn’t wait to get in the ring.
“He’s an ambitious choice. You haven’t been flying solo for very long.” A hand reached across the polished wood of the bar, catching the wineglass that she carelessly shoved away before she cracked the delicate stem. Scarlett turned to find her friend Luca leaning on the bar, the corners of his lips curled up in a dangerous smile, but concern in his eyes.
She fought the urge to roll her eyes. She’d only known Luca for a year—since the first time she’d come to the club—but the big Dom was ridiculously overprotective of her. She knew it came from a good place, but still.
“I’ve never wanted easy. You know that.” Scarlett spared Luca only the briefest of glances before turning back to the object of her affection, who was now leaning against the back of a chair. The posture forced his pelvis forward, giving Scarlett a glimpse of flat stomach and the sexiest hipbones that she’d ever seen.
Her mouth watered. She wanted a taste of him now, but she owed Luca the chance to say what he was clearly going to say regardless. They were both Dominants and therefore equal, at least here in the club, but he was a friend as well as her mentor in the BDSM lifestyle.
“No, you certainly don’t do things the easy way,” Luca agreed, and Scarlett flicked one more glance toward the massive sadist who had taught her everything she knew about being a Mistress. He was as large as the man whose presence kept calling to Scarlett, but though his wicked good looks attracted more submissives than he knew what to do with, Scarlett had never felt anything more than a mild buzz of attraction around him, even when they’d played during her training.
“Is this where you tell me to choose my subs carefully?” Scarlett forced herself to give Luca her full attention this time. Her mind was made up—she had to at least try—but she owed it to Luca to listen.
“I would never presume to direct a Mistress’ choice of slave,” Luca said with a twinkle in his eye, and Scarlett huffed out a breath of exasperation.
“Like hell.” She fought the urge to turn around, to see if her mystery man was still watching her. “You’re the bossiest Dom I know. You’d put me in a cage if you thought you could get away with it.”
“And you’d deserve it, brat.” Luca affectionately tugged at the tight coil of Scarlett’s long hair, which she’d wound into a sleek bun that made her look like the ballerina she’d once been. “You were the worst sub I’ve ever had.”
Settling his not inconsiderable weight onto his elbows, Luca’s expression turned thoughtful.
“I know him.” He nodded towards Scarlett’s target, and she fought the urge to twist in her seat and look again herself. “He’s not an easy sub. Not an easy person. An alpha who chooses to be beta in the bedroom, for the Mistress who can control him.”
Scarlett knew he wasn’t necessarily trying to deter her. Luca knew as well as she did that control was a heady aphrodisiac for Scarlett, a way of adding discipline to a life that had been chaotic until adulthood. Still, his tone annoyed her, a bit.
“And you don’t think I can?” Scarlett raised an eyebrow at her mentor, mildly insulted.
Luca shook his head, a grin playing over his lips.
“If anyone has a shot at taming that beast, Scarlett, it’s you.” He nodded toward where the man stood, gesturing with his hand at the same time. Something—was that guilt?—flickered over his face. He parted his lips as if about to say something, then closed them again and shook his head.
“What—” she began to ask, but was distracted by his next comment.
“I’d hurry up and make your move, little one. Looks like Mistress Avery has her eye on your tasty cowboy too.”
If anyone else had called her an endearment that sounded so much like he was talking down to her, Scarlett would have found herself grinding her teeth with irritation. But Luca had topped her while she was undergoing the vigorous training that the club required of their neophytes, and the term had stuck.
“Catch you later.” Scarlett was off her bar stool before the words had even finished leaving her lips. Mistress Avery was one of the club’s most notorious Dommes, an androgynous looking blonde around whom subs were never quite sure whether to beg for mercy or ask for more.
She also had a reputation for convincing the most reluctant of submissives, male or female, that they wanted to play with her, although coerced might have been closer to the truth. When Scarlett saw that the other woman was indeed making her way towards the delicious specimen of man, she hurried her stride, though she made sure to still keep her stiletto heeled saunter deliberate.
BDSM was a game of control… even if something inside of her said that this connection, this man, was more important than most.
She sized him up anew as she made her way across the crowded club floor, trying to get some kind of handle on him before she reached him. Her intense attraction to him puzzled her a bit, because he wasn’t entirely her type. He had that dominating presence that she had craved, yes, but Scarlett was typically drawn to Latin lover types, men who groomed themselves impeccably and had suave charm to spare.
This man, who looked to be in his mid-thirties to her twenty four years, looked like a rough and tumble Norse god. His pale hair was weeks past needing a haircut, and matching stubble covered the strong line of his jaw.
Hair dusted that wide, solid chest too, and a trail led from beneath his navel into the low riding denim. It made Scarlett’s mind stray to all of the wicked, wicked things she wanted to do with what lay at the end of that trail.
Instead of wearing briefs or latex, or any kind of fetish wear at all, he wore those faded blue jeans, ones that were worn from actual use and not as a nod to fashion. His feet were clad in equally scuffed cowboy boots.
And there, she realized with delight. There was her opening.
Curving her lips up in a predatory smile, feeling herself slipping into the role, Scarlett reached the man, caught a whiff of his scent. She was glad that she’d planted her high heels firmly on the ground when the combination of soap, spicy aftershave, and raw male hit her senses.
This was it—he was it. She couldn’t have explained it, but she wanted him more than she’d ever wanted any other sexual partner in her life. Her experiences with the submissives that she had topped before this had all felt generic and unsatisfying.
But with this man… she had the feeling that it would all be different.
She waited for him to raise his eyes to hers, something only a poorly trained or very stubborn sub would do. Thanks to Luca’s warning, she knew he was the latter.
As she’d suspected, he did, and she again felt the power of their inexplicable connection surge when his incredibly blue eyes met her own grey ones.
“I’m Mistress S, sub. And we have a problem.”
On her last night in Nevada before embarking on a yearlong veterinary internship, Scarlett Malone is celebrating—and looking for one night of incredible pleasure. But the man who draws her eye is not her usual type: He’s a cowboy whose alpha-male tendencies tempt her beyond belief. Scarlett can’t understand why she wants this man and no one else, but she’s determined to entice him to submit.…
Dr. Logan Brody lives an isolated life in rural Montana, running a ranch and suppressing his submissive tendencies. Only on his occasional trips does he give into his hidden urges. He can’t deny his scorching attraction to Scarlett or that she makes him want more, but he never lets anyone break him down fully. He’s hers for one night and one night only.
But when Scarlett shows up at Logan’s door as his intern for the year, he realizes that the walls around his heart are about to crumble—and that this sexy dominant woman has no intention of letting him keep control
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