Kelly Sadel has lived her life by a feels-o-meter since showing emotion as a kid was a big no-no. A timid analyst and fur baby momma, she avoids anything that stirs up her boring life. Secretly, she crushes on the man who rides the elevator with her every morning—he’s a unicorn amidst an office full of conservative short-hairs. He also sets her nerves on edge, topping her feels-o’meter to the limit, an oh-no in her carefully constructed world.
Accidentally dumping a box of cupcakes on his loafers grabs his unwanted attention, and he isn’t too quick to let go.
Jamison Byrne has worked his way through the submissives at Monique’s club hoping to find his own little subbie. He wants a collared sub, a woman to enjoy mutual pleasure his ropes bring without getting emotionally involved beyond scening.
Manipulation comes easy from years of life beneath a narcissistic asshole’s thumb, and Jamison finally gets Kelly to relent—but with her only agreeing to be friends. Jamison sweeps in but finds his feet swept beneath him as her nurturing nature opens him in ways he never expected. Sure he has found his “person,” he needs to find a way to share his darker desires and get Kelly to stop holding back and feel. He knows he can set her free, but does she want him to? Can he help her find the courage to face the emotions that come with submitting her body—and heart?
He leaned down, close enough my breath caught, and we stopped moving with the music. “Give me the green light, Kelly.”
Mind blank, I blinked.
“If you don’t say no right now, I’m going to kiss you.”
“Yes,” I heard myself whisper. He must have read my lips because there’s no way he heard my voice above the band.
Jamison brushed his lips across mine, and everything but the thump of my heart faded to silence. Gentle sweeps of his soft mouth liquefied my bones, and I sagged against his hard chest.
One hand pulled me flush against him as the other cradled my nape, and oh, lordy, did I hang onto his shirt for dear life. He licked along the seam of my lips, and I opened, trembling and near weeping at the pure deliciousness of his kiss. His breath. His clasp on my neck—tender yet…dominant in his hold.
Wintergreen swarmed my senses along with the flavor of his mouth, the sweet, underlying taste of Jamison, and while my body was more than ready to be ravished, the feeling only intensified as the hardness trapped in his jeans pressed against my belly.
Gone. No other word for it. Caught up in a maelstrom of feeling easily topping a ten, I didn’t know what to do or think. Unable to even make a rational decision, I rode the wave, letting him lead.
Too soon, much too damn soon, he pulled back and rested his forehead on mine as we both fought for air. He started swaying again, our bodies still pressed tightly together, his grip on my neck lessening. Eventually, he began soothing his hand down my hair, and I closed my eyes, knowing I’d lost a major battle.
If Jamison asked me to go home with him, I wouldn’t hesitate, the jerk. He hadn’t gotten into my panties, but he sure as hell weaseled his way to the brink where I wanted him to reach inside my waistband and blow my damn mind.
He twisted his fist up in my hair and tipped my head back, the slight sting sending a pulse straight down to my pussy. The intensity in his dark eyes sent another rush of moisture between my thighs. My mind whispered yes to whatever question he planned on tossing out, my body so on board I wanted to cry.
What was up with me and the damn blinking? Simple idiot… He had to think that of me.
“Do you want to get some dinner?” he asked again, his lips quirking in a smirk.
I wanted to press against his hard-on and tell him I’d have a dose of that for dinner, but… I’m no notch. “Sure,” I managed.
ABOUT LYNN BURKE:
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.