The Dom With the Clever Tongue by Cari Silverwood

Author:Cari Silverwood [Silverwood, Cari]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B00F3OO3IS
Publisher: WC Press
Published: 2013-09-09T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Malachi stepped back, shaded his eyes, and peered up at the top story of his farmhouse. The coat of white paint he’d put on last weekend had transformed the old house. Now instead of looking ready to keel over and slide into a pile of rubble, it only looked in need of repairs. Magnificent, if he did say so himself. Just a billion more dollars to do up the inside and he’d be set.

The sound of a car engine cruising to a halt behind him made him turn to look.

Shit. Ivy.

He dusted off the top of his jeans where some chicken feed crap had stuck and strolled over to open the gate for her. His shirt was a bit mottled and paint speckled but Ivy was used to that from him when she visited. Or at least she had been used to it. It’d been a year or more since she’d been here.

She slammed the door on her late-model Ford, and her red curls flipped across her shoulders as the breeze caught her hair. Her make-up was immaculate, as was the pink flared dress. Flowers and pretty colors had always been her thing. In that way, she was like Reece. He let his gaze unglue from the fancy bodice that pushed out her tits.

“Howdy partner.” When he rolled his eyes at her greeting, Ivy grinned. “Sorry, couldn’t resist with that cowboy shirt.” She peered over his shoulder and her gaze travelled upward. “You’ve been painting. Looks good.”

“Thanks. If you say that again, I’m going to hand you a paint brush.”

“Really?” Then she eyed him speculatively as if wondering whether to take up the offer.

What was going through her head? Coming out here to visit wasn’t exactly an easy drive. She’d dropped him after deciding his domming was never going to be what she wanted. Making his sub stand in a corner for five hours with a row of needles tracked up her side was not his idea of dominance. No matter how much he loved her, he couldn’t go that extreme, but she craved serious punishment and control. He understood a little how Ivy felt – though they were on different ends of the spectrum.

The length of her dress made him wonder if she had bruises underneath. That day he’d seen her at the shop, she could barely sit down. What was the guy’s club name? Master D?

“You didn’t come to check out the house.”

A hen fluttered in and pecked at the ground to their left. Another escapee. As if he needed evidence of his poor chicken-rearing skills. The hens were conspiring against him, again.

He’d figured he might as well keep chickens. Free eggs had to be worth it alone. If only the foxes didn’t like the chickens and the chickens didn’t hate staying in the coop.

“Your hens still outwitting you?” Ivy tucked her keys into her handbag.

He nodded, head tilted. “You know how tempted I am to paddle you for that? My hand is twitching.”

“You wouldn’t touch a sub who wasn’t yours.

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