Rebecca Grace Allen
(Legally Bound, #3)
Publication date: April 29th 2019
Genres: Erotica, Romance
Exploring their fantasies could save their marriage…or push it over the edge
Legally Bound, Book 3
Samantha Archer’s life has hit a wall. Her world is housework, homework and reminding her husband—the biggest kid in the family—to help out at home. Once she felt confident, powerful and sexy, but Brady doesn’t seem to notice her anymore, and now all she feels is invisible.
Brady has tried being the goofy guy who stole Sam’s heart, but it’s not working. He’s losing the woman he loves and doesn’t have a clue how to fix it. He’s keeping his darkest fantasies hidden too, sure they’re not what Sam wants, and his inability to please her cuts him deeper than she knows.
When Sam lands a new job at a law firm, Brady still won’t pick up the slack, and one night giving him orders unexpectedly reignites their missing spark. Sam discovers the Femdomme she didn’t know she was, kindling Brady’s submissive desires.
But while things heat up inside the bedroom, life outside it starts unraveling. Brady’s need to call the shots at work complicates his hunger to kneel for his wife, and Sam has longed to experiment in more ways than one. Their exploration of dominance and submission goes a step too far when they invite Sam’s sultry switch coworker into their bed, and the fallout could cost them everything.
Warning: contains a six-foot-five, ex-football player geek and a ballsy, badass redhead who’s learning to unleash her inner Domme. Scenes depicting humiliation, pegging and threesomes could disturb, or stimulate a thirst for adventure.
“Things aren’t…good right now. We keep fighting. And we haven’t had sex in forever.” Except last night had been the start of a thing. Hadn’t it?
He looked up at Nick, who hadn’t spoken. “TMI?”
“Dude, I saw you sweaty, smelly and gross in a campus locker room. I think we passed TMI a decade and a half ago.”
He talked about locker rooms so easily. Like he hadn’t been beaten to a pulp in one.
“You talking to Sam about it?” Nick asked. Brady shook his head. “You talking to anyone?”
“I’m talking to you now, aren’t I?”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“I talked to Jack and Patrick, a few months back.”
“And…it sucked,” Brady replied.
It had been his own personal Spanish Inquisition, and not the fun Mel Brooks version. It was emasculating as hell, being taken out to lunch by his perfect big brother and his big brother’s friend who Brady had looked up to since he was five. Ten minutes in and he’d felt like he was on one of those old ABC Afterschool Specials—except those shows never ended in bedroom advice from two men in their forties. It had been Patrick’s bright idea, and Brady discovered that not only was he not as smart or as good looking as Jack, but he’d ended up on the shallow end of the gene pool with sex, too.
He wished he’d never said anything to them about his marriage being in trouble in the first place. At least Patrick was the only one he’d admitted the truth about himself to. He’d mostly avoided both of them since.
Nick folded his arms on the table. “I’d have thought Jack would be good at offering direction.”
“Why? Because he’s so old?”
“No, because he’s a Dominant.”
Brady’s mouth dropped open. “Wait, how do you… Why do you know… What?”
Nick laughed. “I know about Lilly being a submissive. It wasn’t hard to figure out that if she was one half of the equation, Jack was the other.”
His jaw just about hit the floor. “How do you know about Lilly?”
“She told me.”
“She told you?”
How did siblings talk to each other like that? How did anybody talk to anyone like that?
Actually, Lilly was the only person Brady could talk to about this. He’d practically been her and Jack’s matchmaker, and his mad database skills had helped her win a case last year. But talking to your brother’s wife about the fact that you both liked to kneel was fucking weird, and every time he’d been around her lately, he’d worried she could smell it on him, like some BDSM sixth sense.
I see kinky people. They don’t know they’re kinky, but they are.
“Dude, we can’t talk about this,” Brady said. “It’s my brother and your sister.”
“We’re not talking about your brother and my sister. We’re talking about you. That’s what people do. They talk about shit with each other.”
But talking about this shit made him feel as small and knocked around as the puck he’d just slammed across the air hockey table. And he couldn’t tell if Nick was saying Jack could help because he had experience calling the shots, or if it was because his best buddy knew Brady liked having his shots called.
Rebecca Grace Allen is an author of sweet, sexy and soul searching romance, emphasis on the sexy! She holds a Bachelor of Arts in English with a double concentration in Creative Writing and Literary Comparison, as well as a Master of Science degree in Elementary Education, both of which seemed like good ideas at the time. After stumbling through careers in entertainment, publishing, law and teaching, she’s returned to her first love: writing. A self-admitted caffeine addict and gym rat, she currently lives in upstate New York with her husband, two parakeets, and a cat with a very unusual foot fetish.
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