His Forbidden Submissive by Brandi Evans Page A

reached inside his chest and clamped cold, steely fingers around his heart. He could only recall one other time when he’d seen her look so scared and unsure.
    In the waiting room before her first round of chemo.
    Instincts overtook caution and common sense, and he rushed to her. Without thought or regard to anything else, he yanked her into his arms and cradled her against him.
    To his relief, she didn’t push him away. She didn’t slap him or knee him in the balls but she didn’t exactly return his embrace either. Her body, however, softened a degree or two. He prayed that meant at least some part of her wasn’t opposed to being in his arms.
    “I’ve been so worried about you,” he said into her hair. “I was afraid something might have happened to you.”
    “No, no. Nothing like that. I’ve just been…sequestered while I tried to sort out all my emotions.”
    He held her tighter. Hopefully all that sorting wouldn’t leave him with an even bigger gaping wound in his chest. “And…”
    “And I think we should probably find some place private to talk.”
    Shit. Just shit. Nothing good ever came after those words.
    Ever.
    He put her at arm’s length. “How about my office?”
    “Sounds good.”
    No, it didn’t sound good. It sounded as if he and Viv were finished. “Follow me.”
    They fell into silence as they headed upstairs. The trip to the elevator took an eternity. With each step, the hem of her skirt flitted as she walked, playing with his jeans. The phantom touches were like millions of pinpricks of lust, sending need coiling up his leg, right smack to his groin.
    His cock hardened, lengthened behind his zipper, and his mind went wild. What was she wearing beneath that flirty skirt? Anything at all? If he knelt before her in the privacy of the elevator and lifted that damn skirt, would his tongue encounter any barriers before sliding between her folds? Or would he be able to lick deep into her sweet pussy with no obstruction?
    Fuck.
    He really hated this.
    When they reached the lift, he pressed his index finger to the red fingerprint scanner that allowed patrons and employees alike access to the upper floors. The scanner was donated by a Restrained Fantasies member who worked for the Dallas Police Department. It was one of the many ways he and Steve were dedicated to keeping their members safe.
    More of the same deafening silence assaulted him as the elevator door swished closed and ferried them upstairs. It wasn’t until they were safely secluded in his office that Viv finally spoke.
    “First off, I need to say I understand why you didn’t tell me you were into BDSM. That said, however, I’m not saying I’m okay with your…lifestyle, but I’m also not saying I’m not okay with it either. Understand?”
    “Yes.” Hope simmered past fear. This conversation could certainly have started off worse.
    She paced the small area as she pushed on. “I’ve been hashing and rehashing everything over the past couple of days. Hell, I even spent some time online researching your lifestyle, but it wasn’t until I talked with a friend of mine that things started to make sense. And I finally got to the root of what was really, really bothering me.”
    Viv finally stilled her insistent pacing and turned to face him.
    He held his breath.
    “By not telling me about this side of you, you essentially lied to me, Brock, just like your—”
    “Don’t say it.” The words shot from his mouth like buckshot from a rifle. “I’m nothing like that bastard.”
    “I know.” She stepped close and took his hands in hers. “You’re nothing like Eugene, and mentally, I know that. But that doesn’t negate the fact that when I found out there was this entire other side to you that I didn’t know about…well, it hurt. It felt like this huge betrayal, like everything we’d built was based on a lie.”
    “No, no, no. It doesn’t change anything between us, not really. Outside the bedroom, I’m still the same