Uncollared Read Online Free

moderate pace.
    She used to come to the park four or five days a week, not just for the exercise, but to people watch as well. She realized now just how much she’d missed it. The past two months, there were too many things that she’d stopped doing, too many things she’d stopped enjoying. Eating. Exercising. Hanging with her friends, going to movies, shopping, cooking.
    All because Master Philip didn’t want her.
    She’d spent too much time in a self-pitying funk. Easy to tell herself to be strong that first night, when Philip let her go. Later, reality set in. She spent her days at work on autopilot, only to come home, flop on the sofa, and spend every night and most of the weekend zoned out in front of the tube. Even that wasn’t safe—it only took some drippy TV movie or sappy commercial to bring on the stupid tears.
    She bounced between sadness and simmering anger. Philip never explained why he let her go. There’d been no warning, no chance to do better. It wasn’t fair.
    It’s time to move on. What the hell did that mean?
    But she’d never have answers. And she’d wasted too much time obsessing over it. Well, no more. Ronni was right—time to end the pity party.
    And so Mia walked in the park, actually smiling and enjoying the day. She stopped at a hot-dog wagon and got herself a snack. As she finished the last bite of her hot dog, Mia came upon someone else in a cheerful mood.
    A handsome yellow Lab pranced over to her, a stick in his mouth, his tail wagging happily.
    “Hi, big guy.” She stroked the dog’s silky ears and gave him a playful noogie on the head. The Lab smiled around the stick and huffed with pleasure. He opened his mouth and let the stick fall onto Mia’s boot.
    “Ugh, Bailey, that’s disgusting.”
    Recognizing the voice, Mia looked up at the speaker.
    “Hello, Mia,” he said.
    It was Master Chess.

Chapter Three
    Mia hadn’t seen him since the night he brought her home from LoFiglio’s.
    “Hello.” When they met in the club, she addressed him as “Master” Chess, but that wouldn’t do here in public. And calling him “Sir” would certainly raise a few eyebrows. Mia wasn’t sure how to address him.
    “It’s Francesco,” he told her, guessing her dilemma. Many Doms and subs used pseudonyms or nicknames in the club, to ensure their privacy and keep their personal activities separate from their vanilla lives. “It’s good to see you.” He looked her up and down, appraising her.
    Mia self-consciously pulled her sweater tighter around herself. Master Chess’s—Francesco’s—gray eyes took in everything, the weight loss, the bad hair, the shadowed eyes. And she’d been biting her nails. He noticed that too.
    While he of course looked perfect. The light jacket he wore looked expensive. His dark blond hair was styled in that I-just-ran-my-hand-through-it look. He had a high forehead, a long straight nose, and a slight indentation in his chin. His philtrum, the groove above his upper lip, was so sharply cut that Mia wanted to touch it.
    Oh man. Where did that come from?
    A shiver went through her. She’d avoided thinking of Chess. Remembering that night only brought back the pain of Philip’s rejection. But now she recalled how Chess held her hands at her door, how he looked at her.
    “You will have another Master, Mia. And when he finds you, I hope he realizes what a lucky man he is.”
    She remembered the spark that flashed through her at his touch. How it had scared and confused her. Seeing him now made her heart rate spike and the hairs on her neck prickle.
    To hide her reaction, she bent down and picked up the slobbery stick and tossed it a few feet away. “There you go, buddy!”
    They watched Bailey race after the stick. Chess—she really couldn’t think of him as anything else—turned to Mia with a lopsided smile. “I’m sorry about the dog spit on your shoes.”
    “No problem. They were on clearance,” she explained with a shrug. Unlike his shoes;