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.
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.”
Author Bio: I’m Michele Zurlo, author of the Doms of the FBI series and many other stories. I write contemporary and paranormal, BDSM and mainstream—whatever it takes to give my characters the happy endings they deserve.
I’m not half as interesting as my characters. My childhood dreams tended to stretch no further than the next book in my to-be-read pile, and I aspired to be a librarian so I could read all day. I ended up teaching middle school, so that fulfilled part of my dream. Some words of wisdom from an inspiring lady had me tapping out stories on my first laptop, so in the evenings, romantic tales flow from my fingertips.
I’m pretty impulsive when it comes to big decisions, especially when it’s something I’ve never done before. Writing is just one in a long line of impulsive decisions that turned out to showcase my great instincts. Find out more at http://www.michelezurloauthor.com or @MZurloAuthor.