Friday, May 23, 2014

Exclusive Excerpt: Collared By The Cowboy by Susan Arden

Collared By The Cowboy (Bad Boys) by Susan Arden
$2.99 or FREE for Prime Members

A story about sex and the lies people tell they're not falling too fast and they can get out before they get hurt. Love...not gonna happen.

For Mia
This was just supposed to be a grad school project on BDSM. A begin point, collecting some data, a thesis. Nothing complicated. A means to an end. Out of a small town. Away small from minds. This wasn't supposed to be doorway into decadence. Not really. Certainly not into the bedroom of powerful Dom who had the keys to uncovering her erotic desire to submit to his will.

For Brandon
This was supposed to be temporary. A way to get his partner off his back and a woman gone from plaguing his mind, memory, and dreams. A hurdle. Then on to the next. Away from her fiery eyes and sassy mouth. But when they cross boundaries and end up in bed, their connection is raw, chemical, and real. Each time they make love, it feels so achingly right and the problem becomes convincing her to stay when she plans to leave.

On her way home after a tough afternoon therapy session where two young women disclose they are victims of severe and traumatic abuse, Mia ends up missing. Brandon risks everything...his secret life, his business, his reputation to find her, before it's too late.


Exclusive Excerpt for A Girl and Her Kindle

Brandon lifted his head. “So, are you coming back?”
Swallowing, Mia grappled to gather the remnants of levelheaded thinking and realized nope…all gone. Brandon had her to the point of throbbing, and he’d soon see she was a house of cards unless she made him think she was on the fence. Not some easy to arouse college student. She leveled her shoulders, trying to come across less than disheveled. Meeting his gaze, she was sure her bones had dissolved. Okay, she’d just have to pretend, until her sense of decorum returned. Fake it ‘til you make it, right?
“I—” She held his sapphire gaze, and the idea of pretending to be unaffected evaporated; even with his cocked brow and arrogant grin, she wasn’t going to lie just because he’d proven his point. Last night they’d both admitted with their bodies to wanting one another. Useless to lie to him now when he offered her truth. It was simply a natural, healthy response between two adults. Nothing to be ashamed of…if she kept from leaping off the edge. She cleared her throat and crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes. I’ll be back. I’d like to observe something different tonight. Is that possible?”
“I’ll arrange it.” He inhaled. “You’ll need a collar and a cloak, and possibly a mask to shield your identity. You’ll follow my directions when you visit here. Understood?”
“What—” she stopped talking when his warm finger pressed her lips silent.
“Repeat after me: Yes, Sir.”
She felt her eyes widen as his hand slid down her face, tracing lightly over her neck and came to rest on her shoulder. “Well?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Not too difficult,” he exhaled and removed his hand. He glanced down her body sharply. “First, I don’t want you strolling around in any outfit that is too revealing. If you do, I’ll bring you back here and begin your lesson in following directions, and that’s the part that won’t be fake. You step out of line, and I’m going to teach you how to behave. I might not be fucking you for real, but I will be spanking that beautiful ass of yours if that’s what you need.”
“I don’t know—”
“We can start that lesson. Right now,” he interrupted her.
She spit out a hasty, “Yes, Sir.”
His nostrils flared. “Mia, since it’s no mystery that this lifestyle is totally new to you and I’m willing to help you. The only question is, are you in or out? Don’t answer just yet. Think about it for a minute.” He crossed the room and opened the door to an interior room.
She clung to the bar, her heart pounding a million beats a minute in her chest. She heard noises from inside wherever he’d gone—a door or drawer banged shut. Then another. The longer it took him inside, the faster her pulse sped up. She didn’t need a minute or an hour or a day. She was in, all the way. Her only question was how to climb out once this project was over. He reappeared at the threshold, his powerful body framed by the doorway, as he regarded her with a sizzling stare that swallowed her whole.
“I’m in,” she whispered.
All she had to do was make sure he never had cause to discipline her and she’d be fine. Twelve weeks. How hard could that be?

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