Vegas by Dahlia West Page B

slightly to kiss her. As his lips brushed softly over hers, his hands skillfully removed the leather collar at her throat. She felt a strange sense of loss when the cool air hit her neck. She wore it nearly all the time now when they were alone. It had become part of her afternoon routine. Come home, ditch the work clothes and put on the collar. She reached for her shirt draped over the workbench, but froze at the sound of tires crunching the gravel outside.
    “Oh, God!” she hissed, snatching at her clothes.
    Mark chuckled. “Relax,” he told her. “It’s just a customer dropping off their ride so we can get to it in first thing in the morning.
    Abby tugged her shirt down over her head and held her breath as the key drop box opened on the other side of the cement wall. It was ridiculous. No one could see in unless they came around to the side door and looked through the small rectangle of glass. Still, she swallowed hard and pressed her shirt tightly against herself. Mark appeared behind her, running his hands down her arms. “You’re going to have to get over this,” he told her.
    Abby shook her head. “What if they saw?”
    “What if they did?” She turned to gape at him. Before she could argue, he said, “What would they see?”
    “Us!”
    “I don’t think it’s me you’re worried about.”
    She blushed and looked away. Mark took hold of her chin and drew her gaze back to his. “You’re beautiful, Abby. I tell you every day.”
    She made a face but didn’t say anything. She might be pretty, she’d give him that much, but she had a few more pounds on her than other women; less Kate Moss and more Marilyn Monroe. Mark liked it, loved it in fact, but his acceptance of her had not been her usual experience with men.
    “I would never lie to you, Abby. And I’m getting tired of you basically accusing me of it.”
    “I’m not!” she protested.
    “And if I asked you to wear that little red dress to Maria’s Friday night?”
    She bit her lip.
    “Thought so.”
    “Mark-” she began, but he put his hand up to stop her.
    “It’s fine,” he told her calmly. Then she saw his eyes glitter even in the dim light of the garage bay and she sucked in her breath. “I guess we know what the next part of your training will be.”
    She dutifully stepped outside as he held the door for her, waiting while he locked it behind them. She had no idea what kind of training Mark had in mind, but she knew it wouldn’t be easy. None of his training had ever been easy; but Mark had molded her into the perfect submissive, well, his perfect submissive anyway. And in exchange she’d gotten the perfect boyfriend, one who cared for her and cared about her. Even just having someone ask her how her day was had been a new and unusual experience. One she found she liked along with the gourmet dinners, over-the-knee spankings, and bike rides to the Badlands at night when the stars were out and the summer breeze felt like Heaven.
    Mark slid onto the Harley and she climbed on behind him. She’d given up her own bike for the chance to ride his and smiled to herself yet again as she slid her arms around him. As she held on she thought about holding on - to him- and decided that it was about time she did.
     

Chapter 2
    Abby threaded through mid-morning traffic. Instead of turning into the parking garage of the Custer, she sailed past and out of town. Past the outskirts of the city, she drove past rolling fields and the Black Hills forest off into the distance. She wound her Camaro up a steep hill until she reached the last house at the end of the secluded lane. She got out and strode toward the log cabin’s front porch. She climbed the steps and entered the front door without knocking. She would have called out, but she didn’t want to risk disturbing the baby if she were napping. She turned the corner of the living room and found Sarah at the kitchen table, laptop open, and baby Hope asleep in a bassinet beside her. “Hey,”