The Secrets Series
LK Shaw
Contents
Secrets of Submission
Acknowledgments
Dear Reader:
1. Penny
2. Penny
3. Penny
4. Marcus
5. Penny
6. Penny
7. Penny
8. Penny
9. Marcus
10. Penny
11. Penny
12. Marcus
13. Penny
14. Penny
15. Penny
16. Marcus
17. Marcus
18. Marcus
19. Penny
20. Marcus
21. Penny
22. Penny
23. Marcus
24. Penny
25. Marcus
26. Penny
27. Marcus
28. Penny
Epilogue
Secrets of Desire
Acknowledgments
Prologue
1. Connor
2. Bridget
3. Connor
4. Connor
5. Bridget
6. Connor
7. Bridget
8. Connor
9. Bridget
10. Connor
11. Bridget
12. Bridget
13. Connor
14. Bridget
15. Connor
16. Connor
17. Connor
18. Bridget
19. Bridget
20. Connor
21. Bridget
22. Connor
23. Connor
24. Connor
25. Bridget
26. Bridget
27. Connor
28. Connor
29. Connor
30. Connor
31. Bridget
32. Bridget
33. Connor
34. Bridget
35. Connor
36. Bridget
37. Bridget
Secrets of Redemption
Acknowledgments
Prologue
1. Josie
2. Miles
3. Josie
4. Miles
5. Josie
6. Miles
7. Josie
8. Miles
9. Josie
10. Miles
11. Josie
12. Miles
13. Josie
14. Miles
15. Josie
16. Josie
17. Miles
18. Josie
19. Miles
20. Josie
21. Miles
22. Josie
23. Miles
24. Miles
25. Josie
26. Miles
27. Miles
28. Josie
29. Miles
30. Josie
31. Miles
32. Josie
33. Josie
34. Miles
35. Josie
36. Miles
37. Josie
38. Josie
39. Josie
Epilogue
His to Protect
Acknowledgments
1. Daniel
2. Katie
3. Daniel
4. Katie
5. Daniel
6. Katie
7. Daniel
8. Katie
9. Daniel
10. Katie
11. Daniel
12. Katie
13. Daniel
14. Katie
15. Daniel
16. Katie
17. Daniel
Epilogue
Secrets of Betrayal
Prologue
1. Phebe
2. Donovan
3. Phebe
4. Donovan
5. Phebe
6. Donovan
7. Phebe
8. Donovan
9. Phebe
10. Him
11. Donovan
12. Phebe
13. Phebe
14. Phebe
15. Donovan
16. Phebe
17. Vlad
18. Phebe
19. Donovan
20. Phebe
21. Donovan
22. Phebe
23. Donovan
24. Phebe
25. Donovan
26. Phebe
27. Donovan
28. Phebe
29. Vlad
30. Phebe
31. Phebe
32. Phebe
33. Phebe
34. Phebe
35. Phebe
36. Phebe
37. Donovan
38. Phebe
39. Donovan
40. Phebe
41. Phebe
42. Donovan
43. Phebe
44. Phebe
Epilogue
A Secret Christmas
1. Penny and Marcus
2. Penny and Marcus
3. Connor and Bridget
4. Connor and Bridget
5. Miles and Josie
6. Miles and Josie
7. Phebe and Donovan
8. Phebe and Donovan
9. Epilogue
Booklist
About the Author
Secrets of Submission
Secrets of Submission (c) 2016 by LK Shaw
eBook ISBN: 978-1523938674
All rights reserved. No part of this work may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Author. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then, technically, you have stolen it and/ or pirated it and are a despicable human being. Return to an ebook retailer and purchase your own copy.
Available in ebook and print editions.
Acknowledgments
I have so many people to thank for their role in making this book happen.
In no particular order, a HUGE thank you to the following people:
Julia Sykes for all day Starbucks writing sessions and helping me talk through the story to figure out its direction.
Patti McKenna Spell and Anne Reeths for answering all my late night nursing questions. Any errors are mine.
Charity, Anne, and Darnell - my fantastic beta readers who helped to make this book better.
Jennifer Wedmore, PA extraordinaire, for putting up with my constant harassment. And questions. And, well, everything else. Those “and”s were for you.
Ella Dominguez for designing the absolutely most beautiful fucking cover I could have ever imagined for this book. I know I was a huge, nitpicking pain in the ass.
Red Quill Editing LLC for their comments and critiques. My book is much better thanks to you. Any errors found are my own.
Everyone who shared, commented, and liked all my posts about this book to help me get the word out!
And lastly, thank you goes out to my friends and family who I completely ignored while trying to get this book out to all of you.
I’m sure I forgot a few people, and if you were one of them, I apologize. It was not intentional and you know I love you!
Dear Reader:
I took a few creative liberties with this story. Every story plays out in an author’s mind. It comes from her imagination and unfolds in a way in which she wishes it would happen. Often, this conflicts with what would truly happen in real life. This causes you, the reader, to suspend your disbelief a little (and in some cases, a lot).
Marcus’ approach to Penny is not typical. Their relationship, especially their visit to the club, moves quickly. This should not be the case in real life. Do your research. Take your time. If you find yourself at a club, I ask that you be mindful. Be aware. Be safe.
With Love,
LK
Penny
Butterflies fluttered in my belly as I wiped my sweaty palms on my pant leg. My heart beat a hundred times a minute. My mind urged me to run. I was about to step outside my comfort zone. My safe, vanilla comfort zone. A comfort zone that, to date, had brought me nothing except heartache. I sat in my car contemplating changing my life for that very reason. Would it change for the better? I didn’t know, which made it even more nerve wracking. How it changed couldn’t be any worse than the stagnant life I currently led. I was floating through life without a paddle. I needed direction. The fact that I continued to sit here contemplating this made me question my sanity. This being showing up to a vanilla potluck attended by people in the BDSM community.
Vanilla meant a non-kink, family environment. A casual get-together to laugh and have fun. I’d spent weeks researching the kink community on the internet and had waffled back and forth so much about showing up today that my head ached from all the tension. My muscles tightened with anxiety. My emotions volleyed like a ping-pong ball between excitement and nervousness. Mild panic caused my heart to flutter, my face to flush, and sweat to bead across my forehead.
So many questions rattled around in my head. What would I wear? What should I bring to eat? Who do I talk to? Most importantly, WHAT do I talk about? I imagined everyone there would know exactly what I was — a thirty-five-year-old, overweight woman, whose longest relationship had only lasted a year. A relationship so toxic I don’t even know how I managed to find myself again after I broke it off.
Throughout the entire relationship, my ex told me I was fat. That I wasn’t smart enough or good enough. He spoke of it so subtly, though, I didn’t even realize it had been happening until one night when we were out with some friends. I had come back from the bathroom when I overheard my ex talking to one of the guys about me. About how he had to turn the lights off when we had sex, because he couldn’t stand to look at me. He even joked about how I had no idea the number of women he had on the side. At that point, I realized what I’d allowed him to do to me and my self-esteem. I felt so stupid for being oblivious to how I’d allowed him to treat me. The pain radiated like a slap to the face. It spoke to how beaten down he’d made me feel that I hadn’t recognized the signs. That moment defined me and made me realize that I deserved better. Without a word, I walked out of the bar and never saw him again.
I had dated some since then, except I never let anyone get close enough emotionally to hurt me. I fiercely guarded my heart, afraid to open myself up again and be vulnerable to the kind of hurt I’d already experienced. I fought back against the insecurities that had become so engrained in me. I hadn’t fully recovered my confidence or self-esteem, but every day, I studied my reflection in the mirror and told myself, “You are beautiful, smart, and good enough for any man.” I continued to have bouts of the self-doubt bullshit to work through, but I figured that the more times I said it, soon enough I would believe it. I also worked on opening my heart to someone, which I found extremely difficult. Once trust is broken, it’s hard not to become cynical about love.
As if having low self-esteem wasn’t bad enough. My sex life turned virtually non-existent. I had never gotten any real enjoyment out of sex when I’d been with my ex or any of the guys I’d briefly dated since then. I had tried to love fucking as much as the next woman, but something always seemed to be missing. I rarely orgasmed, but I became a pro at faking one. If I did come, it usually happened because I resorted to getting myself off when my partner fell asleep.
I had reached the age where spending my weekend nights at a bar or club trying to pick up a man no longer appealed to me. The majority of my friends were already in relationships or married. I had a few single girlfriends, and a couple of them tried to set me up with one of their friends, but nothing ever worked out. So, I spent a lot of my time reading and living vicariously through the characters. I read a lot of dirty books. They were my guilty pleasure. I read books with sex scenes so hot, I practically felt the deep pounding of a man’s cock inside me. The mingled breaths, the gasps, the moans, the fingertips ghosting along my skin sending shockwaves through my body. While dating my ex, urges came over me. Urges to give up control and be dominated. In hindsight, I realized why I never expressed my wishes and fantasies to him.
I had an inkling, a feeling, a hunch, a whatever you want to call it, that I was submissive. The thought of being dominated and controlled had me throbbing deep inside. Other than the throbbing in my pussy I experienced when reading BDSM books, I didn’t really know what it meant to submit or to give up control. With not being in a relationship, and having not been in one for a long time, I wasn’t comfortable exploring or giving up that control to someone I didn’t fully know and trust. I realized now that I’d always kept a part of myself hidden from the few partners I’d been with. I wasn’t getting any younger either. I wanted to find that person I could trust with the needs I didn’t fully understand. I needed more from life than casual fucks that I only half ass enjoyed.
Which led me to my current situation. Me, sitting in my car at a local city park, store bought potato salad in hand. I’d never pictured myself as a voyeur until today. Finally, after a half an hour of watching, I worked up the nerve to open the car door and start placing one foot in front of the other. I made my way to the shelter house and sat my potato salad in the buffet line. I moved by the wall and remained there, like a wallflower, while I waited for someone to talk to me.
“Mmm, fresh meat,” a deep, gravelly voice spoke from my right. I turned in that direction. What I saw caused my breath to hitch, and I had to remind myself to keep breathing. Beside me stood the sexiest man I’d ever laid eyes on. He appeared slightly older than me and stood over six feet tall with broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist. He wore blue jeans and a tight navy t-shirt that only accentuated his muscular chest and arms. The flecks of gray in his wavy, dark brown hair glinted in the sunlight. I became lost in the soul searching forest green eyes that roved over me from head to toe, pausing slightly at my lips. Unconsciously, I licked them. As I did, his nostrils flared and a flash of arousal lit up his eyes. My face heated as a blush spread across my cheeks, and my eyes automatically dropped away from his intense stare. His full, sensuous lips were quirked up into a half smile, and I fantasized about running my tongue up his square jaw lined with the perfect amount of scruff. “What a delectable blush.”
I almost turned around to make sure no one stood behind me. I mean, completely fuckable men like him had no interest in short, overweight women like me. Don’t get me wrong; I reluctantly accepted this body with all its bumps, rolls, stretch marks, and cellulite. I even tried to actually love and completely embrace it. With my track record, though, I had yet to meet a man this irresistible who showed this much interest, a sexual interest anyway, in me. It made me wonder what thoughts were running through his head as he admired me. I had my long, wavy, slightly reddish brown hair gathered in a top ponytail, a belly, and wide hips. From the look in his eyes though, he wanted to eat me alive. My body temperature spiked, and I shivered despite the warm weather.