Jackson Moon ran his thumb through the condensation covering the glass of water and stared at the reflection behind the bar at Club Depravity. The crowd on dance floor bounced as one to the heavy metal music thumping from the speakers set high in the ceiling. Reflections from the gaudy, mirrored sixties glass ball twisted the men’s smiles into gruesome masks under the colored flashing lights. He looked away, disinterested in blatant displays of happiness and swirled the ice around the glass, watching each piece melt away into oblivion, much like him of late. Loneliness surrounded him in a crowded club, how stupid was that?
Fine, he’d helped his twin brother, Joel, pack his belongings and move into the home of some fucking rock star and the owner of Club Depravity, the delectable Master Rhys. Oh yeah, his vanilla virgin twin had stolen the heart of not one but two prime ass Doms and was doing the happy ever after scene. He rolled his shoulders. I’m not jealous.
Although of late, his life as a house sub had become meaningless. In fact, he could pinpoint the exact moment his life had gone straight to hell. It had coincided with the return of his friend, Shayd from overseas with news of his old Dom and heartbreaker, Rogue. The lead singer of Alpha Rock would be arriving back in town. He swallowed the lump in his throat and rubbed unconsciously at the ache surrounding his heart. Oh yeah, being dumped by his longtime lover for a woman had sent him into a spiral of self-doubt. He’d seen it happen to other subs, and recognized his fall from a rock star’s arrogant sub to the sorry ass on the bottom of the pile of house subs.
At first, he’d enjoyed the variety of Masters. Big Doms, hairy Doms, the spankers, and the edge players had relieved his itch, his need for domination, but meeting his brother’s Doms had made him remember a time he wished he could forget. Joel’s Doms doted on his twin and the scenes his brother had described with them—man they blew his mind. He wanted that connection again, the special bond with a Dom that went way past trust. He wanted a Dom to love him.
The way Rogue had.
That special connection that took a sub on a flight of sensation so intense, he never wanted to land, but when he did, he found love in the strong arms of a man he would have trusted with his life.
Rogue had loved him, cared for him—left him—crushed him.
What would he do when Rogue walked into Club Depravity? How could he breathe in his scent and survive without him?