Sydney Carter has a deep, dark fantasy to submit…and when she meets a Master who knows a born submissive when he sees one, she learns all about complete surrender.
Sydney Carter can’t remember the last time she had a man who really did anything for her. As a corporate lawyer she travels constantly, and her social life—especially her sex life—is nonexistent. Not only has it been ages since she’s been laid, but Sydney has a deep, dark fantasy of spending one erotic night with a stranger.
Josh Williams is a BDSM Master who knows a born submissive when he sees one. Just a look at the green-eyed brunette, and he has no doubt he can teach her all about pain…pleasure…and complete submission. What he doesn’t expect is what Sydney has to teach him.
Publisher's Note: This book was previously released elsewhere. It has been revised and reedited for rerelease with Totally Bound Publishing.
General Release Date: 2nd October 2018
Copyright © Jaymie Holland 2018. All Rights Reserved, Totally Entwined Group Limited, T/A Totally Bound Publishing.
“Sex.” Andi Kelly Macintyre winked at her. “It’s not a bad thing, Sydney.”
The dull roar of happy hour in the Midtown Manhattan bar blotted out half of Sydney Carter’s thoughts, but almost none of her worries. “I know, I know. I just can’t relax anymore. It’s like I think too much.” She sighed. “Who am I kidding? I think all the time. It’s like my brain never shuts up. When I close my eyes, all I see are contracts and tax forms.”
Andi gave a throaty laugh and took a giant swig of her Chocolatini. “Another argument for mind-blowing sex. It’s hard to obsess about anything else if a man’s doing exactly the right thing to your body.”
“That’s been a while.” Sydney poked the umbrella in her fruity drink. She didn’t even know what the stupid thing was called. It tasted like fermented pineapple. She should have gone for something chocolate like Andi. Why does Andi always make the better choices?
“Glenn Wright nearly ruined you,” Andi said. “Back in L.A., I should have killed him before we turned twenty-one, and buried him in Ms. Kepler’s back garden. I might not have gotten the full sentence—youth and all, you know?”
Sydney almost spat her nasty fruit concoction out of her nose as she giggled. “Ms. Kepler had a rooftop garden, Andi. I don’t think the beds would have held a body that big.”
Andi drained her Chocolatini and waved off Sydney’s comment with a hand full of silver rings that perfectly complemented her naturally tan skin and long dark hair. “The crows and pigeons would have helped us out. That bastard—what he didn’t kill inside you, you’re letting your career bury. You’re a vibrant woman, Sydney. There’s more to you than briefcases and appointments.”
Sydney pushed her umbrella drink to the side and didn’t answer. Was there more to her than work and—and what? Regrets? After Glenn—well. It had been over a year. Almost two, in fact.
A wedding that wasn’t.
The sneers when she was with him.
The put-downs in emails and messages.
The affairs. God, the affairs.
Why had she put up with his ridiculous disregard after high school, all the way through college and law school?
Because once upon a time, when I was a little girl, I dreamed of happily ever after.
“Earth to Sydney.” Andi’s voice drifted through the growing fog in Sydney’s mind.
Sydney sucked in a breath. Every muscle in her body had tightened and her breath was coming shorter and shorter. Her face felt hot, and she was shredding her napkin. Guiltily, she dropped the pieces into a pile in front of her.
“Sorry,” she mumbled to Andi. “I’m not the best company sometimes. Thank you for putting up with me.” She smiled. “I have to say I’m so glad you and Derrick spend so much time in New York City. It’s like having a piece of home right here with me.”
Andi put her hand over Sydney’s knuckles. “You’re one of my best friends. Just too bad Chessie and Bryn can’t be here too. They’d make you feel better in no time.”
She kept talking, but Sydney zoned out again. Her friend wore only one ring on her left hand—a glittering, jeweled wedding band from her husband, who pulled in the big bucks. Hell, Andi pulled in the big bucks. Derrick Macintyre was every woman’s dream—brilliant and handsome and kind. What would it be like to have a strong, smart man who wasn’t threatened by her ambition, her intellect?
She’d probably never know.
Andi pinched her.
“Ouch!” Sydney jerked her hand back. “What was that for?”
“Like I told you,” Andi said, “you’re one of my best friends, but I think you’re getting in trouble here.”
“What trouble?” Sydney didn’t pick up her napkin and start shredding it again, but it took every ounce of her willpower to leave the bits of paper on the table. “I’m rocking the Zevitz negotiations—that’s the biggest account my firm ever landed. Once they buy the trading firm in California, it’ll be the biggest deal my firm ever completed. And I’ve got my sights on department head, then partner.”
Andi nodded. “I know you’ll win that case. No doubt you’ll make department head after that, and you’ll probably be a partner in five years. What then? What’s left for you? What will you have when you go home at night?”
“One hell of a penthouse on the Upper East Side.” Sydney shrugged. “And maybe I could get a dog. A Pomeranian. No, wait. Something bigger. What do you think of Labradoodles?”
Andi gazed at her. She didn’t smile. “Have you even been on a date since…?”
“Since finding my fiancé screwing the caterer at my rehearsal dinner? Nah. I’ll pass on that kind of heartache, thanks. Labradoodles seem like a much better idea.”
The frown Andi gave her seemed sad and angry at the same time. “That man fooled so many people. Good-looking, wealthy, best education, upwardly mobile in the Evil Empire.”
‘Evil Empire’ was their personal code for Edwin J. Williams and Sons, the nationwide corporate litigation firm Glenn had gone to work for when they all graduated from Columbia. Sydney had picked Hopford and Jones, because she preferred straight-up corporate law—mostly contracts, taxes, and exit strategies. Not nearly as cutthroat as the Evil Empire. Safe. Profitable. Okay, okay. Maybe a little boring.
‘You never take chances.’ Glenn’s voice bounced through her memory. ‘I get tired of same old, same old…’
‘Come on, Sydney. Lose some weight. That’s why I cheated—she was hot, and you’re—well, you’re you…’
‘Dress better. If you want a relationship, work for it…’
‘You think that’s sexy? I don’t think you can do sexy, even on your best day…’
Sydney felt her mood sinking below the bubbling conversations in the bar. The fruit drink seemed to sour in her stomach as she muttered, “Let’s move away from Glenn, please, because I’ve moved on.”
“Have you?” Andi looked genuinely worried, but before Sydney could grumble at her about pushing the issue, Andi added, “I’m not trying to give you hell. Actually, I’m trying to give you a resort reservation.”
“A—what?” Sydney blinked at her friend.
Andi slid a piece of expensive-looking embossed cream-colored paper across the table. Sydney stared at the name of the Beverly Hills resort and dates that covered the week before she had to be in L.A. to finalize the Zevitz purchase anyway.
Hawthorne Manor, an exclusive mansion and park in Beverly Hills. Sydney had never dreamed of spending a day, much less days, at an incredible place like that.
“Happy late birthday, girlfriend.” Andi winked at her. “You’re getting an extra week to relax in Beverly Hills.”
Jaymie Holland is the alter-ego of New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Cheyenne McCray.
Chey is currently writing her 100th book/novella. Her accolades include a total of six RT Book Reviews Magazine’s Reviewer’s Choice award wins and nominations, along with numerous other awards.
Cheyenne enjoys creating stories of love, suspense, and redemption. She loves building worlds her readers can get lost in. If you would like to find out what Cheyenne is up to these days, cruise her website any time, take a look at her FAQs, and even drop her a line or two. CheyenneMcCray.com
You can follow Cheyenne on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram and also check out the 'Jaymie Holland' section of her website.
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