Pose by Becca Jameson & Paige Michaels

Author:Becca Jameson & Paige Michaels [Jameson, Becca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary Erotic BDSM Romance
Publisher: Hartwood Publishing
Published: 2015-03-04T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

The Sparkling Pines Tavern was mostly empty. It was a Thursday night in the off-season, so Morgan wasn’t surprised. Later, more of the locals would wander in, but it was early still. Julian followed her in, his hand pressed against her lower back. She could feel the tension between them and knew she should apologize for calling him Daddy. But the conversation she imagined following her apology was so complicated and painful she couldn’t bring herself to it.

Julian ordered their drinks and led her to a booth near the pool tables in the back.

“Are you still tired?”

“No. The stir-fry helped. Thank you, Julian.”

He studied her from across the table. “Do you have your collar with you, princess?”

She unzipped her down coat and set it to the side, smoothing out her scoop-necked, red cashmere sweater before pulling her purse onto her lap. She’d put the collar in at the last second, anticipating how the evening might go. When they were in Ely, there was almost never a time when Julian didn’t want to play. She was surprised he’d waited this long to ask her to don it. “Yes, Sir.”

He leaned forward, lacing his fingers and resting them on the table. She couldn’t help looking at them, imagining his hand inside her and the way she’d screamed her release.

“Put it on, sweetheart.”

She slid the collar out of her bag and put it on the best she could. She fumbled with the buckle a little, but it didn’t matter. Julian’s gaze burned into her when she swiveled the metal O ring to the front. She tucked the hair he’d insisted she leave down behind both ears so he could see the collar better.

“I’ll never get tired of seeing that on you. Knowing what it means.”

Her breath hitched, and she squeezed her legs together. She loved the possession of his words, the way his ownership danced over her like a gentle caress. She opened her mouth to reply. To tell him it meant something to her too. That it meant everything. But before she could speak, the door clanged open and two girls from town burst into the bar, laughing and talking loudly.

They were young. Probably not much older than twenty-one. And they were dressed like it was the middle of summer. Add that to their obviously tipsy state and Morgan’s nape prickled in concern.

“Lovely,” Julian said when he saw them.

Julian had always been a collector of beautiful things. Everything he surrounded himself with was beautiful and pristine. It was like he went out of his way to break every stereotype people could ever hurl at a black man. His home, his appearance, his car, everything about him bordered on artistic. Morgan was certain that was what drew him to her their first afternoon together. She was his work of art.

Since she’d met him, she’d seen the drive in him. He did everything better, smarter, cleaner, more beautifully. Including picking women.

He glanced at Morgan, but she’d schooled her features. She breathed and calmed her racing heart.

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