Chapter One
Jared Mittlebank froze, his drink halfway to his lips. He wasn’t sure how he kept his footing because his world had just tipped on its ear. He blinked several times to make sure he was seeing things right.
He was.
Tess was here. In Fetters. In a dimly lit club frequented only by Doms and their subs. Holy crap. He shuddered as the realization—and its implications—scudded through him.
God, he’d wanted Tess from the moment he saw her. He’d wanted her sweet mouth stretched around his cock, her body trembling before him, her cunt dripping with his juice.
But Marla had warned him off, threatened him even. “She’s far too innocent and sweet for the likes of you,” she’d said. “Keep your damn mitts off.” His sister could be a rabid wolf when it came to protecting her little lambs and Jared would do just about anything to avoid the lash of her ire.
Besides, Jared didn’t really have a taste for vanilla.
Tess oozed vanilla.
At least he’d thought she did. She wore excruciatingly conservative clothes—how he itched for the opportunity to dress her—and was always suffused in a cool, professional, dispassionate aura. She kept to herself and focused on her job to the extent the other women in Marla’s office called her the automaton—and Tess didn’t mind.
But there was more to it than that.
A Dom knew. He knew like a visceral fist to the gut when a woman craved submission. When she wanted a man’s hand hard on her ass, when she yearned for the tight bonds of the worktable, when she ached…to ache. Or even when she was simply willing to experiment.
A Dom knew.
With Tess, there’d been no hint, no clue, no subtle innuendo. None of the outright teasing or flirting that usually preceded a seduction. Nothing. It was almost as though she’d built a wall around her sexuality to keep it in, dam it up. Or keep the world out.
So as much as he’d wanted her, as many nights as he’d spent sweating and straining with his cock in his fist, thinking about her, he’d never made a play for her. Never even tried.
It had not been easy. Jared was the kind of guy who reached out and took what he wanted. With Tess, he didn’t want to take. He wanted her to give. Accepting that she just wasn’t in the cards for him had been a tough pill to swallow.
As time passed, it even became difficult for him to come in to the office. Fortunately it wasn’t necessary for him to do so—Marla managed everything just fine without him, often reminding him there was a reason it was called a silent partnership.
So he quit going in. Because it was too fucking painful to see Tess. To see her sitting there primly at her desk, to suffer the hollowness in his chest at her cool, impersonal smile. One glance at her and he’d ache for days. He hated those reminders that he couldn’t have her—at least not in the way he craved.
And now here she was. In leather. And a sub collar.
Fuck.
“Damn, man.” His buddy Cord nudged him with an elbow. “Are you okay? You look kinda green.”
Jared swallowed but even his spittle stuck in his throat. “Yeah.” He nodded. “I just saw someone I know.”
“Really?” Cord scanned the club, squinting against the smoke and deliberate murk.
Jared bristled. He didn’t know why he bristled, really. Why the thought of Cord settling his eyes on Tess made his belly churn. He and Cord had shared more than one horny little sub. Hell, he and Cord had shared a lot.
But they weren’t sharing Tess. His gut lurched at the thought.
And then Cord saw her. His muscles tensed. A certain predatory energy hummed around him. “Mmm,” he murmured. “A virgin.”
A prickle of annoyance raced over Jared’s scalp. “How do you know she’s a virgin?” He didn’t mean to snap. He couldn’t help it. He was in a really bad mood all of a sudden. And it wasn’t just due to Cord’s blistering perusal of a woman Jared wanted for himself. The sight of Tess on the end of another man’s
Jared Mittlebank froze, his drink halfway to his lips. He wasn’t sure how he kept his footing because his world had just tipped on its ear. He blinked several times to make sure he was seeing things right.
He was.
Tess was here. In Fetters. In a dimly lit club frequented only by Doms and their subs. Holy crap. He shuddered as the realization—and its implications—scudded through him.
God, he’d wanted Tess from the moment he saw her. He’d wanted her sweet mouth stretched around his cock, her body trembling before him, her cunt dripping with his juice.
But Marla had warned him off, threatened him even. “She’s far too innocent and sweet for the likes of you,” she’d said. “Keep your damn mitts off.” His sister could be a rabid wolf when it came to protecting her little lambs and Jared would do just about anything to avoid the lash of her ire.
Besides, Jared didn’t really have a taste for vanilla.
Tess oozed vanilla.
At least he’d thought she did. She wore excruciatingly conservative clothes—how he itched for the opportunity to dress her—and was always suffused in a cool, professional, dispassionate aura. She kept to herself and focused on her job to the extent the other women in Marla’s office called her the automaton—and Tess didn’t mind.
But there was more to it than that.
A Dom knew. He knew like a visceral fist to the gut when a woman craved submission. When she wanted a man’s hand hard on her ass, when she yearned for the tight bonds of the worktable, when she ached…to ache. Or even when she was simply willing to experiment.
A Dom knew.
With Tess, there’d been no hint, no clue, no subtle innuendo. None of the outright teasing or flirting that usually preceded a seduction. Nothing. It was almost as though she’d built a wall around her sexuality to keep it in, dam it up. Or keep the world out.
So as much as he’d wanted her, as many nights as he’d spent sweating and straining with his cock in his fist, thinking about her, he’d never made a play for her. Never even tried.
It had not been easy. Jared was the kind of guy who reached out and took what he wanted. With Tess, he didn’t want to take. He wanted her to give. Accepting that she just wasn’t in the cards for him had been a tough pill to swallow.
As time passed, it even became difficult for him to come in to the office. Fortunately it wasn’t necessary for him to do so—Marla managed everything just fine without him, often reminding him there was a reason it was called a silent partnership.
So he quit going in. Because it was too fucking painful to see Tess. To see her sitting there primly at her desk, to suffer the hollowness in his chest at her cool, impersonal smile. One glance at her and he’d ache for days. He hated those reminders that he couldn’t have her—at least not in the way he craved.
And now here she was. In leather. And a sub collar.
Fuck.
“Damn, man.” His buddy Cord nudged him with an elbow. “Are you okay? You look kinda green.”
Jared swallowed but even his spittle stuck in his throat. “Yeah.” He nodded. “I just saw someone I know.”
“Really?” Cord scanned the club, squinting against the smoke and deliberate murk.
Jared bristled. He didn’t know why he bristled, really. Why the thought of Cord settling his eyes on Tess made his belly churn. He and Cord had shared more than one horny little sub. Hell, he and Cord had shared a lot.
But they weren’t sharing Tess. His gut lurched at the thought.
And then Cord saw her. His muscles tensed. A certain predatory energy hummed around him. “Mmm,” he murmured. “A virgin.”
A prickle of annoyance raced over Jared’s scalp. “How do you know she’s a virgin?” He didn’t mean to snap. He couldn’t help it. He was in a really bad mood all of a sudden. And it wasn’t just due to Cord’s blistering perusal of a woman Jared wanted for himself. The sight of Tess on the end of another man’s
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