Dirty Bad Secrets Read Online Jade West

Categories Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
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It’s been three years since I set foot in Club Explicit, and three long years since I set eyes on Andy Morgan.
He doesn’t want me here, doesn’t want to know me, doesn’t want to even hear my name.
But I’m back on his doorstep, in his office, in his life… with a suitcase full of dirty bad secrets.

Faye Devere is out to claim her old life back. Three years in Italy have come at a heavy price, and she’s running back to the only anchor she has left: her fifty-fifty share of Club Explicit, and the man she left to pick up her pieces.
But Andy Morgan’s long over it. Long over her.
Club Explicit is his baby now. His club, his rules, his way.
Andy’s not a man who shares easily. And certainly not with the woman who upped and left without so much as a goodbye.

When your battlefield is London’s horniest playground, and sex is the sole weapon left in your arsenal, it’s only a matter of time before the fight gets dirty… and the secrets get dirty bad.

WARNING: As is always the case with Jade West novels, please proceed with caution. The book contains hardcore BDSM and sexual practices that may offend some readers. Please use your own discretion. Most definitely 18+ on

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

Faye

Club Explicit’s double wooden doors looked surprisingly innocent in the daylight. For me they were always in darkness, illuminated only by the sombre glow of dull street lighting and the seedy reflection of red neon. My fist hovered in mid-air. No. Knocking wouldn’t do. I ferreted around my handbag until my fingers closed around the jangle of keys. I remembered the one I needed, but the doors didn’t. They held firm. New locks.

Shit.

I took a step back to stare up at the unmarked facade. No signs of life, but that was to be expected on a Friday afternoon. I skirted the building, weaving through the wheeled bins and beer boxes until I found the staff entrance.

Bingo. My staff key still worked. My nerves jangled louder than the keys. I took a breath. Just like old times. No big deal.

The door opened with a familiar creak, and I was in the same old side hallway. Drinks signs and cleaning supplies, sex toys in boxes, and the same old kitchen with the same old kettle. Some things never change, but some things do.

I didn’t recognise the girl with the green hair at the kitchen counter. She was scrubbing out a couple of mugs, a heavy thump of bass sounding from her plugged ears. Pierced brows rose high as she turned to grab a towel, and she jumped backwards, sending the coffee jar tumbling.

“Jesus Christ!” She yanked the cords and her earplugs fell loose. I recognised the tune, one from Explicit’s regular playlist right back from when we opened. “You scared the jeebies out of me!” She swept up the coffee grains with a tut. “We’re closed. If you’re after membership you’ll have to apply online.”

It really had been a long time. “I don’t need membership.” I smiled. “I’m Faye. Faye Devere.”

The girl’s green eyes widened, and I admired the way they matched her hair. Her lip ring glinted as she struggled for words. “He’s upstairs. Through to the back, past the playrooms, third door on the...”

“On the right. I know.” I gestured to the coffee pot. “I take mine black, two sugars.”

Her hands skittered for another mug. “I’ll bring one up with Mr Morgan’s.”

“Please do.” I held out a hand, and she shook it well. “What’s your name?”

“Topaz. I work the bar.”

“Thank you, Topaz.”

I smirked as I made my way upstairs. Topaz. Crystal. Lady fucking Scarlet. So many made up names to so many faces. I’d be Faye from now on. Just Faye.

Magpie, my pretty girl. One for sorrow, two for joy. Three for a girl, and four for a really hot fucking time, sweet bird of mine.

Magpie no more. Only Faye.

The staff door swung open at the side of the bar and the sight knocked my breath. He’d replaced the lights. They were now neon blue and violet, reflecting from the mirrored bar top. The floor was different, too. Black polished marble with flecks of silver. The seats were the original burgundy brocade in the swatches I’d picked out; the same tables, too.

The main floor had been kitted out in posh lights. Spots and strobes from the looks, with a mechanised hoist system for the shackles. The St. Andrew’s bondage cross was the one I’d chosen, and so were the drapes behind it, the rest was alien. New.

Three years suddenly seemed a bloody long time.

I didn’t knock on Andy’s office door. After all, it was my office, too.

His head was buried in paperwork, and he didn’t even look up.

“Thanks, Topaz.” He gestured at the desk top. “Just drop it here.”


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