LEATHER AND LACE (BAD BOYS & GOOD GIRLS, #1)
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Authors: Susan Arden
LEATHER AND LACE (BAD BOYS & GOOD GIRLS, #1)
Want More Bad Boys & Good Girls?
Nashville
SILVER SPROCKET PUBLISHING
Published in the United States of America by Silver Sprocket Publishing LLC.
COLLARED BY THE COWBOY © Susan Arden
Originally Published February 28, 2014
Revised June 2015
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
SWEET-N-SPICY TALES
A Division of SILVER SPROCKET PUBLISHING
T
hank you for purchasing this story. The published and author acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book.
Series: Bad Boys ~ Good Girls
All it takes is one bad boy...
When life hands out lemons,
these good girls give
bad
a try.
––––––––
Collared by the Cowboy #1
A study about
sex, subs, and power
ignites into a firestorm.
A
SWELTERING AFFAIR
SO
HOT
IT BURNS
A study about sex, subs, and power
ends up being one hell of a
lie
.
A lie two people tell themselves:
We aren’t falling too fast.
Or, we
can get out before we get hurt.
LOVE, not gonna happen.
Mia Santero wants a ticket out of nowheresville...
In a research project, she discovers
the man behind her ‘subject’ has stolen her heart.
Brandon puts his reputation on the line
when he agrees to train Mia as a sub.
He gives her access to his club and life.
Instead of a tantalizing and temporary diversion,
Mia’s the girl he can’t let go.
When Mia ends up missing, Brandon risks everything to rescue her.
To those who have survived abuse
and to the many still silently suffering.
Kink
:
“unconventional sexual taste or behavior”—
Merriam-Webster
T
WO EMAILS
and Mia’s life was about to spin out of control. Dr. Orton, her grad program advisor wanted to ‘talk’ about her thesis proposal. An out of the box study that would take place at Spurs and Leather. Sure it was a bondage club, but they served up sex without the pretense and inhibitions regularly featured on the small-town menu in these parts.
Her one goal, her one wish equated to a ticket out of nowheresville. Since she was short on fairy godmothers at the moment, the only way that would happen required a kick-ass research project. Mia fully intended on moving to a city like San Francisco or L.A., maybe New York. A modern city where people didn’t turn fifty shades of red when a term like cunnilingus eased into the conversation.
“Here. Knock ‘em dead.” Dani commanded her attention with an outstretched hand. Over her roommate’s finger hung a hanger, and she waved a tiny scrap of red leather in Mia’s direction.
“Interesting. But no.” Her brow knitted as she stared at the crisscrossing laces of the tiny corset. “When I said outfit, I was thinking something larger than a rubber band.”
“This dress will help you fit in.” Tutting, her roommate thrust the fetish dress into her hands. “Thank me later when you land your first job.”
“By chance does that job involve a street corner?”
“Funny,” Dani replied. “You’re stalling.”
“You do realize that I’m the one who’s gotta fit into this little number. Operative word: little.” Mia held up the dress probably two sizes too small. “Just where am I supposed to fit my boobs?”
“Okay, I can see you’re going to overanalyze this into the ground.” Dani snapped her fingers. “Let’s go. Time to change. Stat!”
Rather than waste time arguing, she’d just try on the dress and make her point when a body part or two sprang loose. Mia peeled off her oversized T-shirt and with Dani’s assistance, they both tugged the rubber band up her body.
“The laces,” Dani panted.
Barely able to whisper, never mind shout, she rasped, “What about them?”
“Turn around. I need to lace up the back.” Dani motioned with a swirl of her finger.
“You can’t be serious?” She snapped up her chin as beads of perspiration dotted her cheeks. “This thing gets tighter?”
“Yeah. Unless you’d like to bare your buns. Hey, it would get you noticed and—”
“Shush! That’d be rich. I’m not starting off my research by flashing my ass.”
“When in Rome.” Dani deadpanned and she snorted in return. “Hey, all I’m sayin’ is have a little fun. Spurs is more than a research site, it’s a super exclusive club.”
“I’m taking the Fifth on that one.” Mia pivoted and rolled her eyes. But just how far would she go to get the goods if it involved a spanking or two?
Don’t go there!
She felt her face heat hotter if that were possible. This was an opportunity. A goldmine to excavate avant-garde research.
Serious business
. “Whoa!”
Dani yanked the corset in place. “Hold the bedpost. Don’t let go until I give the word.”
Gripping the post, she sucked in her gut. “Aye aye, Captain.”
Her roommate began pulling on the leather laces that crisscrossed down the back, cinching the corset tighter and
tighterrrrr
. After several minutes of fetish dress torture, Mia was certain she’d heard a rib crack.
“Done.” Dani wiped her forehead on the back of her arm. “Take a look!”
Standing in front of the mirror, Mia’s eyes widened as her mouth dropped open. The cups of the corset clutched at her breasts like overeager palms. Her nipples were barely covered and apparently breathing was optional in this getup.
“Help!” Covering her chest with her arms, she whispered-shrieked, “I’ll be arrested by the Fashion Police.”
“Help nothing. Hot stuff coming through!” Dani wolf-whistled. “Girl, let the sisters come out for a night. If I had your rack, I’d show more than a little cleavage. Those turtlenecks you’ve got going on are all well and good for your therapist look, but it’s time to put that
outfit
to bed. If you’re gonna rock it at a private sex club, being a wallflower is counterproductive.”
“Do you sit around and think this stuff up?” she quipped, but Dani had a valid point.
For the last two weeks, Mia had tossed her idea around for a groundbreaking project. With all the BDSM talk in spin, she wanted to uncover the real story behind the hype. Was it fantasy, mere fiction? What type of man or woman indulged in hot and hard desire—raw lust—giving up control and bowing down? In other words a
sub
. She decided to take this topic and tease out the truth. Was BDSM a journey or a destination? Impossible to study every aspect. The subject was too broad for a thesis. So she narrowed her focus on submission, or as she titled her project:
The Art of Surrender
.
“Fine, you win.” She knew when she was beat. Dani was a brute when it came to unrelenting persuasion and over the last year, she’d gotten a taste. Slowly, she lowered her arms. Tentatively, she traced her fingers over the leather, jangling the metal chains of the corset. From her peripheral vision, a flicker of light snared her attention.
Holy crap
. “Dani, don’t you dare!”
“Too late.” Her roommate snapped a photo of her and then giggled darkly. “Oh yeah. This dress shouts look at me! Mia, lose the glasses, put on some lipstick, and seriously let down your hair. Do you want one of the doms to notice you or not?”
Of course, she’d given Dani the right ammo to out argue her. The only way she’d find and speak to a bona fide submissive was hunting down a real dom. Glancing at the photo of her chest displayed on Dani’s cell, she cringed. “Dear Lord, that better not end up on Instagram.
Ms. Burns
?”
“If I leave it up to you, you’ll show up in a black cocktail dress and pearls. That look won’t cut it. Consider this leverage. Promise to wear the dress?”
Her roomie was in the same graduate program but hailed from Alabama. She was a redhead dynamo, standing five foot two, and sported two full sleeve tattoos. Usually dressed in black except when she broke strategy and mixed it up with off-the-wall pieces like this red leather fetish dress. Wild was Dani’s middle name.
