Excerpt of Collared by the Cowboy by Susan Arden

“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?

Brandon nodded, then crossed to the sofa and laid a satin cape of deep wine color, with a matching mask across the back.

“Come here,” he said, and held out a black leather band. “I want to try this on you.” He sat on the back of the sofa with his muscular legs spread open.

“A collar? You just happen to have a spare?” she asked.

“This is a club. So, yes.” He rubbed his fingers along the collar’s edge, his eyes dropping from her face to trace her body as she came over to him, and stood just in front of his knees. “Closer,” he said, lifting his gaze to stare into her eyes.

She walked in between his legs. “How’s that?”