His Submissive (Boston Doms Book 2)

by Jane Henry

  His Submissive

  Boston Doms – Book Two

  By

  Jane Henry and Maisy Archer

  ©2016 by Blushing Books® and Jane Henry, Maisy Archer

  All rights reserved.

  No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

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  Jane Henry and Maisy Archer

  His Submissive

  EBook ISBN: 978-1-68259-691-3

  Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

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  Table of Contents:

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Epilogue

  About Jane Henry

  About Maisy Archer

  EBook Offer

  Blushing Books Newsletter

  Blushing Books

  Chapter One

  Hillary heaved open the steel fire door that led from the kitchen to the alley behind the restaurant, grateful that the noise from the party masked the protesting squeal of the hinges.

  She loved her sister and soon-to-be brother-in-law, she truly did, and she was thrilled to celebrate their engagement with the rest of their family and friends. After all, Heidi and her fiancé, Dominic Angelico, had been through a lot over the past few months, and no one knew Heidi deserved happiness as well as Hillary did. But after two hours of watching Heidi and Dom wrapped around each other, and their friend Paul and his boyfriend John making eyes at one another, and certain other people flirting with every woman in the room but her, Hillary needed to escape. The cloying scent of romance was thick in the air, and it was giving her a headache.

  She stepped out into the humid August night, sucked in a deep, calming breath of air… and immediately wrinkled her nose. Ah, the smell of garbage in summer, she thought with a laugh. A much more appropriate fragrance for my mood.

  She propped the door open with practiced ease, using the heavy bucket that was kept just inside the door for that very purpose, and leaned her back against the rough brick wall of the building. Though she'd kept company with Nicole and the other waitresses and line cooks a million times as they took their smoke breaks back here, the alley behind Cara still felt sinister in the darkness. From the hulking shadows of the dumpsters and parked cars, she could hear the scratching and scrabbling of little creatures she preferred not to think about… and who knew what other, human dangers were hiding out there?

  Hillary shivered and edged a few inches closer to the door.

  She'd only wanted to experience the kind of pleasure she'd read about—the kind she wanted to write about, the kind that came from submitting yourself completely to someone else's control. But she'd been a college senior, and that wasn't exactly the kind of thing you could mention to a guy at a fraternity mixer. So she'd found a willing dominant online last April.

  Marauder.

  The first in a string of poor decisions where her heart was concerned.

  Marauder had made all kinds of dark promises in his emails—restraints and punishments, things so taboo that she'd blushed like a middle-schooler. She'd naively assumed that it was all part of the game, that the romance would come later.

  Dumb, dumb, dumb.

  Real life was nothing like a romance novel.

  The smooth, unrelenting steel of the bench beneath her back. Her wrists and ankles bound with hard metal cuffs that cut off her circulation and chafed when she struggled. The gag that almost choked her. The overpowering fear, until Matteo broke down the door and…

  No.

  The shit that went down at Club Black Box was over and it would never happen again.

  You are a different person now, she reminded herself.

  Hillary blew out a breath and ran a hand through her cap of short hair, trying unsuccessfully to tuck one of the longer front strands behind her ear. Almost, but not quite.

  One of the first things she'd done after graduating and moving down to Boston in May was to find a hair dresser who'd transformed her shoulder-length auburn hair into a modified blond pixie-cut, liberally streaked with blue and purple. It had sounded so badass, so edgy, so perfect for starting a new chap
ter in her life.

  Her sister had warned her that she'd regret it—that the novelty would fade and she'd be annoyed with how long it took to grow out.

  And it turned out that Heidi had been partially right—the cut had proved annoying and regrettable. Though not for the reasons Heidi had imagined.

  "Hey, Tinker Bell," mocked a deep, smooth voice from the kitchen. "Whatcha doin' out there?"

  Ugh! That name! Hillary whirled around, ready to murder the person speaking it… but it wasn't the Angelico brother she'd been expecting, so instead she rolled her eyes.

  "You have a death wish tonight, Tony?" she asked sweetly, folding her arms over her chest as she regarded Dom's youngest brother Tony, the owner of Cara.

  In the light spilling through the doorway, she could see that his expensive suit was creased, his brown hair was rumpled, his hazel eyes were glassy, and he carried a beer bottle in each hand.

  Looked like someone had been enjoying the party.

  Tony snickered like what she'd said was extremely funny. "No more than usual. And where's the gratitude? Is that any way to talk to your boss?"

  Hillary rolled her eyes again and fought a smile. It was true that Tony had offered her a part-time waitress gig at Cara as soon as she'd moved to town. And with its prime North End location and influx of summer tourists, the tips allowed her to work relatively few hours each week, making it the perfect job for a writer struggling to finish her first novel. But although Tony owned the restaurant, he hardly ever acted like her boss. Instead, it was the restaurant manager, pretty, take-charge Tessa Damon, who mostly ran the business these days, leaving Tony free to run the kitchen, the way he preferred.

  Tony smiled widely, amused by her attitude. The white flash of his teeth and an adorable dimple softened the hard lines of his face, and she wondered for the umpteenth time why the hell it couldn't be this Angelico who filled her every thought. Tony was tall, like both of his brothers, but broader and huskier. He was open and friendly, where Dom was reserved. And Tony was sweet and sympathetic, unlike the high-handed, alpha-male, crazy-making, unbelievably-sexy force of nature that was Dom's twin brother, Matteo.

  "Peace offering," Tony told her, handing her one of the beers he carried and sitting down heavily on the bucket in front of the door.

  "Hmm," Hillary murmured noncommittally, taking a deep pull of the beer. Sam Adams, her favorite. A decent peace offering. Still… "You know I don't answer to that name. Ever."

  He shrugged. "It's catchy. And for what it's worth, I'm pretty sure Matteo didn't intend to piss you off when he came up with it," he told her, his eyes dancing. "How was he supposed to know you had such a deep hatred of pixies?"

  Hillary gritted her teeth. She had nothing against pixies, per se. She did have something against the idiot who'd taken one look at her badass haircut and vertically-challenged stature and immediately thought of an animated fairy rather than a strong, mature, sexy woman.

  "Well if it were unintentional, you'd think he'd have gotten a clue the first twelve thousand times I told him not to call me that!" she groused.

  "Oh, I just said he didn't intend to piss you off at first," Tony said cheerfully, taking another swig from his bottle. "But now he definitely does it just to piss you off."

  Hillary raised one eyebrow and looked at Tony, who smiled back at her with mock innocence. But then he grew serious.

  "Is he why you're out here?"

  Hillary stiffened. "Who? Matteo?" she scoffed. "No. Of course not. I've hardly spoken to him tonight. I just needed fresh air."

  It was bad enough that Matteo already knew how she felt about him, thanks to her stupid decision to bare her soul to him one night a couple of weeks ago. If Tony or anyone else suspected that she had one-sided feelings for Matteo, the humiliation might kill her.

  It was Tony's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Don't play dumb, Hillie. I saw Matteo doing his thing in there, flirting with your cousin Sara and Heidi's friend Marlene. And then I saw you come out here."

  Shit. She'd tried to be so careful. Hillary swallowed hard and scrambled for an explanation.

  "Because I know it must drive you crazy," he continued. "You know… as a feminist."

  What?

  Oh.

  Right. Yes. It bothered her as a feminist. Clearly.

  She almost sighed in relief.

  "If it helps, from what I hear it's a genetic thing. They say our dad was the same way before he got married. Matt can't help but flirt with every woman over eighteen and under fifty…"He paused to consider. "Maybe sixty," he amended, then continued with a shrug. "He doesn't mean anything by it."

  She nodded. This was true—flirting was the only way that Matteo related to women, whether it was the grandmotherly lady who rolled gnocchi in Tony's kitchen once a week, or the pretty teenage cashier at the corner store, or Hillary's own middle-aged, hippy mother.

  "Except Heidi," she reminded him. "And, well…me."

  Tony shrugged and nodded. "Well, yeah. Except you two. Since you're family."

  Right. Yes. Family. Brother- and sister-in-law.

  Except that her feelings toward Matteo hadn't ever been sisterly, not from the moment he'd broken down the door at Club Black Box and saved her from that asshole, taken her back to his apartment, listened to her hesitant, stammering confessions about wanting to be a submissive, and helped her begin to heal. She wanted him, no holds barred.

  And for a brief moment, she had imagined that he felt the same way… before he'd completely shut her down.

  She shook her head and changed the subject.

  "Anyway, what brings you to this scenic spot, Boss Man?" she asked, waving a hand to indicate the nearby trash cans. "Won't Val be looking for you?"

  Tony's girlfriend Val rarely let him out of her sight when there were single women around.

  He laughed without humor. "Oh, no doubt. She's probably got more bitching to do about the arrangement of the tables or the wines we're serving with dinner. Why do you think I'm out here? You know she won't come through the kitchen. Might ruin her shoes."

  Hillary's head went back in surprise. She'd always thought of Val as catty and shallow—just that night, she'd accused Hillary of ruining the 'elegance' of the wedding party pictures with her funky hair and plain blue sheath dress. And she knew Dom worried that Tony would let Val suck him dry financially. But she'd never heard Tony say a word against her until now.

  "She bitched so much that you let her run you out of your own restaurant?" she scolded.

  Tony leveled such a stern, forbidding look at her that she winced. Jeez, maybe he wasn't just sweet and cheerful.

  "Sorry, sorry," she backtracked quickly. "I just mean…"

  But he sighed and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.

  "No, you're right. I prefer to think of it as a strategic retreat, rather than running away," he said sardonically. "But I guess it's the same thing." He paused a moment before continuing. "Val wants a ring."

  Hillary choked on a sip of beer.

  "A what?"

  Tony slumped forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

  "An engagement ring. She and I have been dating for over a year now," he said. "And Dom only met Heidi… what, four months ago?"

  Hillary scowled. "Yeah, but that's different. When it's right like that, you just… know."

  Tony nodded. "Yup. You know that, and I know that, but Val…"He tipped the beer to his lips again, drained the last few drops, and shrugged. "Val wants a ring."

  Oh, wow. Val for a sister-in-law?

  "Damn," Hillary breathed. "But… You know it's not all about what Val wants, Tony. What about you? What do you want?"

  But before Tony could answer, a loud burst of laughter made them both turn toward the kitchen.

  The first thing Hillary saw was Matteo… And wasn't that the story of her life, at least for the past few months? He was always the first thing she noticed, a magnet that drew her eyes the second he walked in the room.

  Tall a
nd tan, larger than life, his head thrown back with laughter. And, God, how did he manage to look so elegant, despite the muscles that rippled and flexed beneath his dark grey suit jacket? Her fingers tingled with the need to touch him.

  And then she noticed his companion.

  Tessa was standing next to him, and she was smiling, too, looking for all the world like an auburn Jessica Rabbit in a tight, strapless pink dress that Hillary didn't have the assets to hold up if her life depended on it.

  Is it any wonder Matteo isn't interested in being anything more than your brother? Hillary thought miserably as her stomach churned.

  "Seriously, Matt," Tessa chided gently, shaking her head at Matteo in exasperation, even as she smiled. "You're crazy. I don't think—"

  But Matteo smiled down at Tessa and draped one muscular arm around Tessa's slim shoulders… her slim bare shoulders.

  "Honey, do you trust me?" he asked, in that deep, resonant voice that haunted Hillary's dreams. "I'm telling you, Tess, a man like me knows when…"

  Tony pushed himself to his feet, vibrating with tension, and Matteo's eyes caught the motion, his gaze swinging to the doorway. His eyes widened as he caught sight of Tony and then narrowed when he spied Hillary. Matteo scowled.

  "Tony? What are you doing out there?" Matteo demanded.

  Tony's jaw worked for a moment before he spoke, and when he did, it was in a low voice, to Hillary.

  "I don't think it matters what I want, Hill," he told her. Then he chucked his empty beer bottle into the recycling dumpster and walked back inside to stand in front of his brother and Tessa.

  "Matt," Tony said, lifting his chin in greeting. Then he folded his arms across his chest. "Miss Damon. I thought you were working tonight."

  "I… am," Tessa said in confusion, stepping away from Matteo. "That's why I'm h—"

  "Really? That's funny," Tony interrupted, cocking his head to the side, "because the party is out there, and you're in here."