Dream Collar

Jayelle Thorne

Description

Living the life of envy, surrounded by wealth, and enjoying all the trappings a fast-paced social standing brings with her high-society, real estate mogul husband, the classy, cool, beautiful Brooklyn MacMillan is teetering a delicate façade. Confronted by her sisters, the last thing she wants to deal with are their insinuations, or to face her own inner turmoil, or to reveal tightly held secrets that would expose her ill-fated encounter with Blaine Montgomery.

But her fears, as deep as they are, pale in comparison to the intensely seductive mysterious Miguel Zambrano, who traveled with her sisters as part of their security team. She finds herself consumed with the fascination, excitement, and intrigue of him, unable to resist his charm amid the deadly plots and sadistic twists that have brought him into her life.

Theirs is a passion that obsesses and compels Brooklyn to bare her darkest truths. Drawing on his strength to find her own, she must face her greatest fears. A frightening plunge into a troubled past that will either secure their future... or destroy it.

Sujets

• Billionaire
• Alpha (ethology)
• BDSM
• Discipline
• Suspense
• Danger
• Bondage et discipline, domination et soumission et sado-masochisme

Informations

• Publié par: Blushing Books Publications
• Date de parution: 19 août 2015
• Nombre de lectures: 2
• EAN13: 9781682590195
• Langue: English

Extrait

Dream Collar
TheDream Series, Book 3
 
By
 
Jayelle Thorne
 
 
©2015 by Blushing Books® and JayelleThorne
 
 
 
 
Allrights reserved.
 
Nopart of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means,electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by anyinformation storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing fromthe publisher.
 
Publishedby Blushing Books®,
asubsidiary of
 
ABCDGraphics and Design
977Seminole Trail #233
Charlottesville,VA 22901
 
  The trademark Blushing Books®
isregistered in the US Patent and Trademark Office.
 
Thorne,Jayelle
DreamCollar
 
eBookISBN: 978-1-68259-019-8
CoverDesign by ABCD Graphics & Design
 
Thisbook is intended for adults only . Spanking and other sexual activitiesrepresented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing inthis book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the Author's advocatingany non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
 
 
Tableof Contents:
 
  TOC \o "1-3" \n <![endif]--> Chapter One
ChapterTwo
ChapterThree
ChapterFour
ChapterFive
ChapterSix
ChapterSeven
ChapterEight
ChapterNine
ChapterTen
ChapterEleven
ChapterTwelve
ChapterThirteen
ChapterFourteen
ChapterFifteen
ChapterSixteen
ChapterSeventeen
ChapterEighteen
ChapterNineteen
EbookOffer
Blushing Books Newsletter
AboutBlushing Books
<![endif]-->  
Chapter One
The glacier between Carsonand me that has been growing since we were little girls is melting into thehellhole of Blaine Montgomery. An awkward kindred spirit forging fromstalagmites and stalactites jammed into the shards of our splintered souls. Anewfound commonality neither of us wants to embrace as we agitate from a safedistance across the room with wary eyes and acrid tongues and caustic faces.
I certainly don’t want any ofthis.  
Not with this sister.  
Not for this reason.  
Not at this time in mylife.  
Grateful for the interruptingknock on the door. Grateful for a quick dab of tears and check of makeup.Grateful for a feeble pause to find a shred of poise as Carson opens it to acrowd of bodies.
Raleigh rushes straight atme. “We’re back!”
My turn away isn’t fastenough to keep her from seeing how upset I am. But it doesn’t matter. Theatmosphere is thick enough for a machete.   
“Everything okay?”
“Yes. We’re good.” Carson’swords would have been more convincing in print.
Raleigh’s pissed-off looktravels back and forth as if giving us multiple chances to come out of ourcorners and start the fight over and do it fair this time with her as thereferee. But some things are better left alone until the broom of time cansweep it away, or put it back together, or pile it in the debris of life goneastray.
“Well, alrighty then. What’snext?”
“The three of us need totalk.” Carson’s mood has the disgust of that tacky discarded stick after thepretty sucker has been licked away.
“Yes. Of course. We can goshopping.”  
I put on my best pretend ofregained composure for Raleigh’s sake, and for the audience of people standingthere in uncomfortable wait. Something Carson doesn’t seem to notice, or careabout, or feel at least responsible to hold up her end of play nice.
She walks to the window as ifgazing distance from a prison yard rumble and mutters her two-word sentence.“We can’t.”  
The attorney in me rises tothe courtroom dramatics with confidence that the verdict has not been sealed,and I can successfully argue my case. “I know some great boutiques. And, I candress the two of you up like Barbie dolls. It will be fun.”
“Not today, Brooklyn. Not…”the scowl of her words pause when she turns around to myplease-help-me-meet-you-halfway pleading eyes. “But... that does sound likefun... another time...”
Too late to stop the launchof my own defiance. “Why not?”
Raleigh takes my hands.“Brooklyn. It’s not Carson’s fault. Don’t be mad. Most of the guys with us aresecurity. Blaine Montgomery is trying to hurt us.”
Palms rise in exaggeratedthrusts of air pound and words fly like piercing javelins at Carson’s audacity.“You came here? To my house? You led him straight to me?”
I am so fucking mad ather.  
I am furious at myself fornot telling her to go to hell when she called to say they were dropping in onme this weekend.  
I am right not to trust her.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
The thought of BlaineMontgomery coming anywhere near me again swoons lightheaded imbalance, andspins disconnect into orbit, and capsizes the sliver of tranquility I wastrying to bring to this little reunion.
Raleigh helps me to a chair.
Grant brings me some waterand offers up sincere-enough sounding console, but his effort falls ondisbelieving ears. “No. No. It’s okay. He doesn’t know we’re here. We tookprecautions. It’s okay.”
Carson is mirroring myweakness in a slow decline that others guide to a nearby chair. The severity ofour circumstance is weighing heavy on both of us. The veracity of ouruneasiness is agitating resentment in both of us. The helplessness of our fateis causing mayhem. All we can do is stare at one another.
Hard glares.
Unyielding expressions.
Angry eyes.
Raleigh wipes terror beadingon my brow. “Brooklyn, we can talk here, in private. Security will be on theother side of the door the whole time. We’re safe.”
No. We’re not safe. We willnever be safe. We can’t escape Blaine Montgomery. But, more than that, I cannot escape the more pressingreality that is just as chilling.
“But....” They have no ideaof what their change in plans will cost me. “We’re supposed to meet Mason atthe club for lunch.”
Carson’s words tap thecesspool of hot water still rippling from our standoff. “You can.”
I think better on my feet, soI pace.
I can’t deal with Montgomery.
I can’t deal with Carson.
I will worry about all ofthat later.
I have worse things.  
“I’ll have Delores preparelunch for you. But, I need to get ready for the club. Please excuse me.”
I’m glad to get away fromCarson.  
I just want to screamobscenities at her.  
I want to rip those gorgeouseyes out of their sockets to get them far away from me.
As I walk past her, my gazeis distracted by the intense yet tender regard of the man standing beside her.His eyes are on me, but his hand is trying to massage away the tightness in hertrembling shoulder. Amid the gaggle of security standing in solemn surround ofmy sister, he is the only one I see. This man.  
I am drawn to him.  
I don’t understand theintensity that is stirring.
I am startled almost as muchas I am intrigued and frightened and perplexed and dumbfounded.  
But, I need to focus on Mason.  
He’s going to be pissed theothers aren’t joining us for lunch.  
He hates last-minute changes,and I already did that once today when I asked if we could have lunch with myfamily instead of his business associates.  
I dread his anger.
I rush out of the room, upthe stairs, into the closet.
I need the perfect outfit todistract him, but it’s my mind that is distracted. It keeps drifting back towhat Carson told me.  
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!  
I wouldn’t wish Montgomeryon—well—not even Carson.  
Damn you, Carson!
My hand lands on an outfitMason hasn’t seen yet.  
Chiffon. Not my usual choicefor the club. But, the knee-length, shoulderless dress is just feminine enough,just revealing enough, just pretty enough, that it might catch Mason off guardand soften his sour and forestall his wrath.
I pull my hair up toaccentuate the neck he likes to see. No jewelry needed. I select theextra-steep Manolo Blahniks to heighten my legs he likes to see.
The only accessory is thewedding ring he insists be on public display at all times like a paid-for tagon a possession. His possession. His property.
When I descend the stairs,the noisy group that has invaded my home is passing through the foyer withCarmelita escorting them to lunch.  
But, the only thing I hear isthe intrigue of one man pounding in my ears.  
His eyes unapologetic indelighted gaze.
His face softened fromearlier stern.
His lips curled in beguilinggrin.
My lips struggle withdiscretion as my mind races through a maze of thoughts traveling all over mybody. I’m glad there are so many people around. I’m afraid of what I might dootherwise.
As I near the bottom of thestairwell, I flutter at words that break my trance.
“You look ravishing, Mrs....Ms….” Grant is speaking. “Brooklyn.”
I accept his kind gesture ofextended hand.