by Misty Kayn
Shaye drove home, air conditioning to maximum, rock station playing in the background. Once in a while, she stole a quick glance at her lap where a note and a leather collar with a new tag rested safely on her bare legs. Sir bought two collars. One for the weekend and one for the keeps. Gotta love a sadist. She thumped her head on the headrest and smiled. Serving Sir was an adventure. He made her feel sexy, used, and dirty, but never freaky or different. Dallas was there for her, too. She took her friend's hand and squeezed, acknowledging his support.
- THE END -
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Born and raised in a non-English speaking household, Misty fluently curses in all languages available to her and parties with the characters in her books after she's picked up dolls, puzzles, and legos from the tiled floors of a home she shares with her Husband
...and kids.
Shadowed under humor, her books often touch the dark side but hey, there's always romance and, after a series of dreadful events, a Happily Ever After where ponies fly over rainbows.
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