That moment you’ve been waiting for has finally arrived! Re/Defined (Doms of the FBI 4) is here!
The Blurb: Amy Markevich nurses fantasies about dominant agent Jordan Monaghan, but she knows they’ll never come true. He’s younger, to-die-for handsome, and so very different from her. She settles for friendship and dreaming from afar, even when he agrees to show her the platonic side of submission.
Jordan has always known what he wanted, and as he gets to know Amy, he’s convinced that she’s the complete package. Her sexy curves and passionate nature contrast sharply with her childlike innocence and exuberant joie de vivre. She calls to him—body and soul.
Just as he’s about to reveal that he’s a Daddy Dom and that he suspects Amy harbors an inner “little” and a submissive side, Amy witnesses a gruesome murder, and a terrorist organization puts her on top of their most-wanted list.
As they are forced to run for their lives from this unexpected enemy, Jordan helps Amy to accept her true nature—as a little—and to redefine everything she thought she knew about belonging to him.
Warnings: anal play, mini-golf, bondage, sensory play, suction cups, and laser tag.
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Here’s a sexy excerpt:
Did she want steak or lasagna, or did she want to let Jordan tie her up and do things that belonged to the mysterious Sensory Play category? Amy frowned as she lined up her shot for the sixteenth hole. He was putting no pressure on her at all. After they’d finished their ice cream, he hadn’t brought it up. She felt his touch on her hip, pushing it into alignment to improve her aim. Relaxing, she let him correct her stance. “Thanks.”
“You’re getting better. By the end of the course, you’ll have it down.”
It had occurred to her that she could continue doing it wrong just so he’d keep touching her, but then, she reasoned, he’d eventually give up, and she’d still be doing it wrong. She hit the ball a little too hard, and it sailed past the cup. “Darn.”
“Not bad. Don’t be so hard on yourself. You came close, and that’s an improvement.” He lined up his shot and sank it neatly.
“Would we negotiate everything beforehand? Plan out every detail?”
“No.” He didn’t pretend to not know she’d changed the topic. “If you had any experience, then yes, we could do that. For this, I’d try a few different things so you could decide what you do and don’t like.”
She thought about that as she tapped her ball into the cup. “What if I don’t like it?”
He retrieved their balls. “You’re familiar with the concept of safewords.”
She didn’t have the sense he’d asked a question, more that he wanted her to explain what she knew. “I know the stoplight system. Red halts everything. Yellow pauses the scene for communication, adjustments, and bathroom breaks.” Once she’d come to accept that the BDSM lifestyle wasn’t a form of abuse, her sister had opened up about many of nitty-gritty details. And she’d heard the guys talk about being dominant. They took the safety precaution aspects of it very seriously.
“So you’ll have safewords. I’ll be talking to you a lot so you’ll know you’re not alone.”
It hadn’t occurred to her that he would leave her alone when she was in a vulnerable position. She set her ball on the tee, lined up the shot, and took a swing. It rounded the bank perfectly, bounced twice from the edges of the narrowed curve that linked the two parts of this tricky hole together, avoided the waterfall, and went straight into the cup. Her draw dropped. She looked at Jordan, her eyes so wide she felt they might pop out. “You saw that, right?”
He wore a wide grin. “Your stance was perfect.”
Dropping her putter, she clapped her hands over her heart. “A hole in one. I never thought I’d be able to do that.”
He hugged her with one arm and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You can do anything you set your mind to, little one.”
“Yes.” She didn’t necessarily agree with him, but she was no longer talking about her amazing feat. “I want to try it with you.”
“All right. Let’s finish this, and then I’ll take you to my place.”
She’d never been to his place. It made sense that they’d go to his apartment because that’s where his equipment would be located. The drive took a little time because he lived two counties away. They mostly chatted about movies and television shows. She figured he wanted to keep the conversation light to put her at ease.
His apartment was exactly like Jamie had described—pristine and sanitary. Amy chalked that up to his modern décor. There was too much shiny metal and not enough color. It could use some fabric and softness to make it homey. Normally she wouldn’t judge anybody’s home, but this seemed so unlike Jordan. Standing there in a black fitted shirt and worn jeans, his face scruffy from a day’s growth, he didn’t seem to fit. The lack of color was him, but the sharpness of the furniture reminded her that perhaps she didn’t know him all that well.
“What do you think?”
“It’s clean.” She wasn’t going to say anything critical, not to a guy who was planning to tie her up.
He frowned. “You don’t like it.”
“It’s fine. I just pictured your place with more leather, and maybe framed photos of your family on the walls.”
He gestured to the sofa. It was the kind with an exposed metal frame and thin cushions for the seat and back. “It’s more comfortable than it looks. Take off your dress and sit down.”
She hadn’t expected him to say that. She looked at her bright yellow sundress, the only spot of real color in the room. “You want me to get undressed? In here?”
“I need to do a few things before we can begin. If you need to freshen up, the bathroom is the down the hall, first door on the left. When I return, I expect to see that you’ve followed orders.”
Orders. His tone had shifted, becoming harder and more commanding. This was definitely his Dom tone. A shiver of anticipation ran up her spine. Finally, being with a Dom seemed right. “Should I call you Sir or something?”
“Let’s hold off on titles for now.” He disappeared down the hall.
Amy made use of the bathroom. She combed her fingers through her hair and redid her ponytail, and then she checked to make sure she didn’t have anything weird going on with the parts of her skin that would be exposed. Standing in front of the mirror wearing only her bra and underwear was a sobering experience. Though she’d worn her prettiest, laciest underthings, there was no way Jordan was interested in her as anything more than a friend. With a sigh, she hung her dress on a hook on the back of the door. He found her a few minutes later perched on the edge of the sofa, which was surprisingly comfortable, without her dress.
He sat down next to her, but he leaned back and stretched his arm along the back. “What’s your color?”
She stared at her hands, folded neatly on her lap, and hoped he hadn’t meant for her to be completely naked. “Green.”