Jenna's Consent Read Online Free Page B

forward, crowding his
space as she basically snarled her derision in his face.
    His lips curled upward, revealing a twinkle in his eye and
she knew she’d really stepped in it. “This ain’t my first rodeo, you little
rope slut.”
    Jenna’s eyes widened and she opened her mouth a few times,
but sure as shit nothing came out. Only one person at the club knew how deep
her love for rope went and the whys of it. Her best friend Skye. Jenna knew she’d
never go blabbing about her. So how did he know?
    Who else knew?
    It was her private pain and she didn’t need anyone else
poking their nose—
    His mouth covered hers and he tugged her face higher as he
closed the miniscule distance between them. He didn’t devour her, didn’t force
her mouth open and dive in, even though he could have since she’d already
agreed to his terms.
    No.
    He pressed a closed mouth kiss to her lips, simply holding
her to him. He kissed her cheeks and her nose, brushing his lips across her
forehead.
    “You’re good at covering the rope marks, Jenna, but not that
good. You can’t hide that from me. I know you. Not all of you but a fuck-load
more than you think I do. You let your guard down sometimes when nobody else is
looking but I watch you. I see you . I haven’t figured out who you’re
getting rope from yet but I will. You’re going to tell me, when you trust me.”
    She stared at him, watching his mouth move as he spoke,
wanting him to kiss her again, and needing to run as far and as fast from him
as her five-inch stilettos would carry her.
    Thankfulness swamped her that she didn’t already know her
safe word with him because she probably would have whipped it out right then
and there.
    Talk about the mighty falling.
    She helped prep the submissives upstairs, helped calm them,
seduce them, and encourage them to face their fears and find what lived inside
them that they’d been hiding from everyone. Evidently she hadn’t been listening
nearly well enough to her little pep talks.
    He’d kissed her.
    Once.
    And emotions swamped her, threatening to bury her in the
wake of the man who was Nick Love.
    Love .
    What a crock of shit.
    Love held someone’s heart. Then it squeezed the life out of
it until it never beat the same.
    She didn’t have time for that, nor the little tête-a-tête
Nick was convinced they needed to have in the main bar room, with half of the
members of The Library trying to act like they weren’t listening to every
fucking word.
    Her inhalation made her want to lick him. Damn he smelled
good. She wrinkled her nose, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that he’d
gotten to her even a little bit.
    Did he slap the look of disgust off her face like some
dominants would have?
    No.
    Did he turn her around, shove her over a barstool and tan
her ass?
    No.
    Those things, she could have born, tolerated and gotten off
on at least before burying the emotions rising to the surface inside her.
    Instead he gathered her to his chest and simply held her.
    Traitorous tears filled her eyes and she did what any other
girl would do. She got pissed off.
    She stood there, arms at her sides as if she were strapped
to a two-by-four and couldn’t move at all. She craved his simple hug more than
her next breath. But she couldn’t just lean into it. Accept it. Accept him or
her need for it. Instead it made her spine stiffen further as he ran his hands
over the laces at the back of her corset. Sooner or later he had to get the
message that she was not into the huggy cuddly crap he was bestowing on her.
    “I’m not going anywhere, Jenna. I’m not walking away. Nor am
I going to let you keep punishing yourself for things that are out of your
control.”
    She opened her mouth to tell him where to shove his
self-help bullshit but he covered her lips with his finger, raising an eyebrow
in question.
    She wasn’t a brat.
    Getting his attention in a negative manner was not what she
wanted but for some reason she couldn’t seem to help