Lilly gave Cassie a little nod of thanks. She nodded back and grinned. Jack must have caught the moment because he squeezed her hand once again.
“That’s it.” Brady grabbed the twenty off the table. “I’m getting us all a pitcher. Any arguments?” He scanned the group. “Good.”
As he stalked off, Jack pulled out a chair for Lilly. They sat with their knees touching, their hands joined under the table. She drank and laughed as the evening wore on, and Jack started stroking her knuckles, his fingers feather light. The touch was innocent, yet each gentle brush made her body rush with excitement, the hairs on her neck lifting, her nipples beading under her shirt. It was getting difficult to concentrate, and she started glancing at the clock, more and more eager to leave with him.
Finally, he reached up and touched her chin, then swept a light pass along her neck with one finger.
“I want to take you home now,” he murmured.
Lilly shivered and nodded. He stayed close behind her as they said their good nights, his hands on her shoulders.
“Get a room,” Brady yelled, but Jack didn’t let go, and she loved how affectionate and possessive he was with her.
He held her hand the entire drive back to his house. When he unlocked the door and held it open for her, everything felt different, somehow. Like a weight had been lifted.
Like home.
Jack stepped in after her, his body behind her, so warm and close and solid. “Your gift is in the kitchen.”
They walked slowly down the hallway, and Lilly saw a box sitting on the kitchen island. She turned to look at Jack. He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, his posture relaxed and confident.
“Open it.”
She untied the bow and lifted the lid. Inside was a thin circle of shining metal, joined at either end by a padlock in the shape of a heart. A key was nestled into the cotton bedding underneath.
Her heartbeat kicked up a notch. “Is this a collar?”
“Yes. I had it custom made.” Jack moved from the wall and advanced toward her. He took the box from her hands and picked up the necklace. “There’s an inscription on the back.”
He rotated it so she could see the writing. The word “Mine” was engraved in a beautiful script on one line, the word “Yours” beneath it. Lilly stared at it, amazed.
“I thought when you said ‘congratulatory gift’, it would be a Starbucks card or something.”
“I think you’ve had enough caffeine lately.” Jack picked up the key and unlocked the heart in the middle. “Will you wear this for me?”
She ran a finger along the brushed metal. “All the time?”
“Not unless that’s something you want.” He must have sensed her trepidation, because he nestled the collar back into its box. “I’m not giving you this for taking the bar. And I’m not asking you to wear it because I know it’s something you said you wanted. I’m asking you to wear my collar because I love you.”
“I love you too,” she whispered.
Jack moved in closer. “I never understood the true power and beauty of dominance and submission until you gave yourself to me. You’re strong and beautiful, and you trusted me completely. It was through your submission that I remembered who I am.”
He cupped her cheek in one hand. Lilly melted into his touch.
“I never want to let you go again.”
He kissed her softly, but even through the tenderness of his lips, she could feel the strength coiled up within him. He was holding back, for her.
She wanted to set that power free.
“I’d love to wear your collar, but I have one request.”
His thumb brushed over her cheek. “What’s that, sweet girl?”
“Put it on me in the playroom?”
A breath rushed out of him. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
Jack stepped back and held one hand out to her. Silently, she followed him downstairs, her heart fluttering so fast she could hardly breathe. When he closed the playroom door behind them, she looked at the floor and waited for his command.
Tracing one finger down her spine, he whispered, “Strip.”
She quickly rid herself of her clothes. Naked before him, she trembled in anticipation. He lifted her hair and kissed the juncture between her throat and shoulder.
“Kneel.”
Lilly lowered herself to the ground. The position didn’t make her feel defenseless or weak. She felt stronger than ever, because kneeling before Jack was a choice. A choice she made in love.
He nestled the collar against her throat and fastened it behind her neck. The cool metal felt good against her heated skin. Jack locked it in place and stepped around in front of her. Taking her chin between his forefinger and thumb, he angled her face up toward his.
“Are you ready to play, little girl?”
She closed her eyes. Hearing that name again felt right. It felt more than right. It felt perfect. She opened her eyes again, hoping he could see her adoration and respect as she looked up at him.
“I am, Sir.”
He pulled her to her feet, and when he kissed her this time, he didn’t hold back. His mouth covered hers, his tongue seeking entrance and sweeping over hers. Every kiss was hungrier than the last, his hands at her shoulders, against her throat over her collar, buried in her hair. He kissed her like she was air, his everything, the only thing he needed to survive.
“Mine,” he whispered.
Lilly sighed and smiled. “Yours.”
About the Author
Rebecca Grace Allen spent her summers as a child amongst the rocky shores of Southern Maine, and considers New England to be her second home. She holds a bachelor of arts in English with a double concentration in creative writing and literary comparison as well as a master of science degree in elementary education, both of which seemed like good ideas at the time. After stumbling through careers in entertainment, publishing, law and teaching, she’s returned to her first love: writing. A self-admitted caffeine addict and gym rat, she currently lives in upstate New York with her husband, two parakeets and a cat with a very unusual foot fetish.
You can find Rebecca online at www.rebeccagraceallen.com, on Twitter at @RGraceAllen or on Facebook at www.facebook.com/rebeccagraceallen.
Look for these titles by Rebecca Grace Allen
Now Available:
The Portland Rebels
The Duality Principle
The Hierarchy of Needs
Coming Soon:
The Theory of Deviance
Don’t miss these other titles from Rebecca Grace Allen
Sometimes A + B = O. Yes. Oh, yes. Just like that.
The Portland Rebels, Book 1
Gabriella Evans’s life exists in terms of logic and definitions. She’s holed up in Portland, Maine, for the summer to work on her PhD thesis, but something is screwing up her concentration: the rumble of a motorcycle every time the embodiment of her rough-and-tumble fantasies rides down her street.
When her best friend talks her into a blind date, she finds herself out with the opposite of her fantasy. He’s polite and well-mannered, yet something behind his crisply tailored shirt doesn’t add up—a rebellious gleam in his eye that piques her curiosity.
Orphaned at fifteen, Connor Starks has finally put the years of failing grades, breaking laws and breaking hearts behind him. The only holdover? His penchant for getting down and dirty in public places. But Gabriella makes him want to prove he’s become a better man.
Nothing intrigues Gabriella more than a problem she can’t solve. But the more Connor tries to bury his past, the more determined she is to uncover it. And what she finds makes all her trusty logic begin to fail her…
Warning: This book contains a summer romance, dirty talk, dockside kissing, motorcycles and tattoos. Features a rebellious nerdy girl with an appetit
e for outdoor sex and light spanking, and a bad boy who’s turned good…or at least he’s trying.
Once you figure out what you want, it’s impossible to ignore what you need.
The Portland Rebels, Book 2
Jamie Matthews is stuck in a rut. After hitting a wall with her dream career, she’s back in her hometown, living a life as monotonous as swimming laps in the neighborhood pool.
Being surrounded by her perfect brothers is a painful reminder of her failure to launch. The last bonfire of the summer is an ideal way to let off steam, especially when she runs into Dean Trescott, the playboy friend she had one hot-as-hell night with back in high school.
Since the day Dean met Jamie, he’s loved her beauty, talent, and smile that lit up the whole damn block. But dating isn’t an option. She has a bright future ahead of her, and he refuses to chain her to his—helping run the family business that’s barely staying afloat.
A “what-happens-in-Vegas” weekend was supposed to get their craving for each other out of their systems. But neither counted on the past repeating itself, drawing them together in even hotter and dirtier ways and dangling the possibility they might both be able to get exactly what they need…
Warning: A friends-to-lovers twice over story that contains some hot ‘n heavy kissing in the waves, hair pulling, and a man who knows how to use his hands. It may also feature a few practical jokes—only the fun kind, of course.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
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His Contract
Copyright © 2015 by Rebecca Grace Allen
ISBN: 978-1-61922-883-2
Edited by Christa Soule
Cover by Syd Gill Designs
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: November 2015
www.samhainpublishing.com
His Contract: Legally Bound, Book 1 Page 34