Delicious Surrender (Dominant Billionaire #1)
Good Riddance
1
F ifteen minutes. That’s all it took to close the book on the relationship. Ross and his toothbrush, two T-shirts, and a pair of ratty slippers were gone. A bitter chill hung in the room. It had nothing to do with regret and everything to do with the freezing February wind that blew in when he stormed out of her flat.
The relationship experiment was a failure. So much for being a normal girlfriend. Normal meant shedding a few tears when you broke up. Normal meant not hiding your desires for months then swinging a wrecking ball into your carefully constructed house of cards. Brynne was through making excuses for Ross. The only one she was fooling with the charade was herself. She finally told Ross one of her fantasies and he flipped out and called her sick and twisted.
It brought her relief to finally voice her truth. Researching BDSM for her novel had unlocked a Pandora’s box of carnal curiosity. Finishing the book consumed every spare hour for the past six months, which made it easy to ignore what was missing with Ross. Her best friend would congratulate her on the decision to dump him, but her father would wonder why she couldn’t hold on to a man.
She planted herself on the one good cushion of her secondhand couch and texted Jared. Never a fan of the starchy accountant, he wasted no time reminding her of Ross’s unworthiness. Deep down, she knew it was the truth. The problem was, she always chose the safe option. Safe meant a maximum of three dates with men she could not see herself falling for. Then it was easy to avoid getting tied down. And easy to leave.
Three texts and a phone call later and Jared had coerced her to ditch her sweats and head to their favorite hangout for drinks.
He waved from across the crowded restaurant. She scooted into the booth, yanked off her mittens, and grabbed the gin and tonic he’d ordered for her.
He raised his glass, and she did the same. “Cheers, babe! Congrats on giving that wanker the boot!”
Brynne sighed and clinked her glass to his half-finished Cosmo. “Cheers to that, J. I only wish I figured out what you saw within the first month.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself! Most people thought he was a catch. On paper, I guess he was. Good job, no bad habits, decent looking.”
Brynne groaned loudly. “You’re being kind. He was an uptight vanilla cupcake without icing. I mistook his high-handedness for dominance and his selfishness for confidence. I can’t help feeling like a fool.”
“Shush now. Do you remember what you told me when I broke up with Harry? You said it was good practice because it showed me what I don’t want in my life.” He pursed his lips and winked. “You were right.”
“Okay. You’ve got a point. But I’ve had enough. It was better when I kept to the three-date rule. I’m not built for a real relationship, and I don’t have time for one. Without distraction, I can concentrate on polishing the book. Do I even need a man if I have a drawer full of batteries?”
“Hold on. You don’t have to give up on the species, Bree. I am sure there is a man out there who can tame the dirty, bad girl inside of you!”
She snorted. “I’m not so sure, J. I don’t know if I can give up control. If we’re talking fantasies, I want a man strong enough to toss me over his shoulder, wicked enough to tie me to the bed, and skilled enough to tease me to the brink.”
Jared grinned at her. “Christ, isn’t that what we all want?”
She laughed without humor. “In a book boyfriend, yes, but that’s impossible in real life. The thought police have created men who tiptoe around us, like they tiptoe around the clitoris. It would be nice to find a guy who knows how to operate my console and maybe even write some new code.”
He slapped the table and laughed. “Hon, if I knew where to find them, I’d be rich! But since you’re free now, you can embrace your dark side. Speaking of your saucy alter ego, how’s the writing going?”
The deadline for her manuscript was fast approaching. She had put her heart and soul into it for the last eighteen months, and failure was not an option.
“Editing is torture. I need to stop over-analyzing it.” She blew out her breath. “I will deliver it by the first of March or die trying.”
“You’ve got this. I have no doubt!”
“I hope so. My aunt Josie’s longtime agent agreed to review the full manuscript, as a favor to her. She may represent me or tell me to go back to the drawing board.”
“Okay, so stop obsessing and trust that you did your best. It will go through more revisions before they send it to publishers, right?”
“Yeah, that’s how it’s supposed to work. Honestly, I don’t know how my aunt did this twenty-six times.”
“She did it one book at a time, and so will you.” Jared raised his glass. “Here’s to using your newfound freedom and finishing that hot and juicy romance.”
Encouragement from Jared and Aunt Josie kept her toiling at her computer every night after work, but it took every ounce of discipline for Brynne to finish on schedule. After pressing send on her manuscript, she and Jared celebrated by getting drunk and doing karaoke at their favorite bar.
Two years earlier, they started at the London Mirror on the same day. God only knew where she would be if he hadn’t taken her under his wing. Probably murdered and left in an alley in Croydon. She arrived in London with two suitcases and a reservation for four nights in a shitty hotel twenty miles from downtown. When she showed him where she was looking for an apartment, he ripped up the list and helped her find a great flat in Brixton.
Jared was an amazing press photographer, but his passion was black-and-white erotic photography. He couldn’t make a living from it, so he took a job that paid the rent. The night his boyfriend dumped him, they went to a bar after work and got hammered. She confessed she was writing a BDSM-themed romance, and he admitted to moonlighting at an exclusive gentleman’s club that held fabulous fetish parties. That night, they shared many secrets, and a special friendship was born.
After two months with no news from the agent, Brynne was inconsolable. Jared was a saint, but she knew he was getting tired of her negative self-talk.
She checked her email incessantly and considered sending a follow-up, but Josie assured her it could take several months. Seven weeks and three days later, she woke up to an email from the Wade & Stewart Literary Agency. Her thoughts began flitting like a bee in a pollination frenzy. One flower of doubt, one bloom of hope. Doubt had plagued her for weeks, but the waiting was over. She piled up her pillows and opened the email.
Dear Brynne,
You’ve done a good job with your characters and have created a compelling story that kept me engaged most of the way, but you missed the mark on delivering the type of erotically charged scenes that readers want in this genre. Dig deeper into the true dynamics of a dominant and submissive relationship and make sure the characters have an attraction that sizzles.
One of my preferred publishing houses is planning to launch a new line of more erotic stories. They are looking for darker romances with kinky themes and more explicit sex.
This genre is not in my wheelhouse, but when you have completed a rewrite, I’ll have my team take another look at it. You’ve done well, so don’t give up.
Josie and I haven’t been able to connect. Please be sure to pass along my good wishes when you see her.
Best regards,
Linda
Guilt nagged her. It had been months since she’d visited Aunt Josie. With her singular focus on revising the book, she’d put off making a trip to Skye. Josie was her biggest cheerleader and had consistently encouraged Brynne to fulfill her dreams of being an author. Her racy Regency-era novels about strong, adventurous women and dashing, dominant men allowed Brynne to find her own author voice.
The writing was on the wall. Studying other erotic writers and watching kinky videos wasn’t enough. At thirty-two, she was no shy wallflower, but her quest to understand the dynamics of BDSM had missed the mark.
It was time to explore the world of dominance and submission—and it was going to require hands-on experience.
She punched out a text to Jared:
Brynne: Jared. I want you to get me an interview at Dominus. I’m done trying to figure out the scene on my own.
Jared: Oy vey! OK I’ll try to get you an interview but only as a server. They may not hire you - you have no experience as a sub.
Brynne: I want to see the real stuff and maybe I’ll meet a real Dom there who can teach me the ropes. I can pretend to be submissive. How hard can that be?
Jared: Christ, you don’t have a submissive bone in your body. Or if you do, it’s hidden by that big chip on your shoulder.