Authors: Mari Carr
Rough Cut (11 page)
“Take off your clothes.” Her heart raced at his gruff command. Gwen was becoming accustomed to
his dominance. She was thrilled when the tone of his voice dropped or he assumed what she’d come to
recognize as his Master stance. He was standing with his arms crossed against his chest and his face was stern, telling her with just body language she would obey him.
She’d spent weeks fighting with herself, trying to deny that she wanted,
needed
his rough touches, and with patience and understanding, Ty had broken down every wall, every barrier she’d erected until there was nothing left except them, here together, sharing everything they had to give.
She slowly pulled her T-shirt over her head, hiding her smile when his gaze darkened. She loved that
she could make him so hot and needy. She slid her bra off, letting the lacy garment fall to the floor. Before tugging off her jeans, she cupped her breasts, knowing that Ty loved watching her touch herself. She
pinched her nipples until the pain of her actions forced a soft groan from her lips.
He watched silently, not moving. She unzipped her jeans and pushed the denim over her hips. She
wasn’t wearing any panties, per Ty’s instructions. He’d tossed all her panties in the trash weeks ago. When she was totally naked, she stood in front of him, waiting for his next command.
“Go stand in front of the dressing table.”
She frowned. “I thought—”
He chuckled. “I know what you thought, Gwen, but you don’t decide what we do in the bedroom. I
do. Go stand in front of the dressing table and face the mirror.” As she passed him, he gripped her upper arm to stop her and swatted her ass five times. “Next time I expect you to obey without question.”
She shivered and squeezed her legs together, no longer trying to deny how much she craved his
punishments. Together, they’d explored the concepts of BDSM and for the first time in her life, she felt an inner peace. She’d slowly learned to accept that this was who she was. She was finally comfortable in her own skin and she had Ty to thank for it. The loneliness that had resided inside for most of her life was gone. The pressures of her career had also faded. She wasn’t quite sure how to explain the feeling of utter freedom that permeated her being when she gave herself to him completely.
She stood before the mirror, watching as he moved closer. He hadn’t taken off a single stitch of
clothing. She loved these moments. Loved being his all-too-willing slave. She’d spent so many nights
pondering the idea of being his submissive and in truth, she’d never felt happier. He’d brought her to orgasm with his hands, his cock, his tongue, but also with words and whips and ropes at her wrists. There 58
Rough Cut
had been no desire he’d refused to satiate, and he’d never made her feel ashamed about her need for pain and bondage.
“You’re so beautiful.” He took his place behind her. They looked at each other through their
reflections in the mirror and as she caught a glimpse of her body, her face, she felt beautiful. “I have a treat for you.”
“For me?”
He nodded. “I’ve been saving it for just this occasion. For the day when we finished the screenplay.”
Her heart lurched at his words. Since his admission that he loved her nearly two months earlier, he
hadn’t used those words again. Of course, she’d never offered them even once, too afraid of his rejection.
What if this relationship
was
directly tied to the writing of the screenplay? Now that the script was written, was their time together over?
Ty hadn’t mentioned the future beyond the end of this partnership and now that she was faced with
the ending, her heart felt as if it were on the precipice of being irrevocably broken, shattered.
He pulled out the padded stool beneath the dressing table. “Sit down.” She winced slightly at the burn from his previous spanking, then she watched him through the reflection in the mirror as he reached into his pocket to pull something out.
“Lift your hair,” he said.
She complied as he placed something around her neck. She gasped when his hands moved and
revealed the thick band of silver. “It’s a c—” Her voice caught on the word, unable to say it.
“A collar,” he finished for her. “And there’s something else.”
She couldn’t take her eyes off the beautiful silver chain. There were sapphires set into the intricate design of the metal with a very small loop at the front. To most of the world it would just appear to be a simple choker necklace, but anyone familiar with BDSM would realize it was a collar. She knew perfectly well what a collar meant and her chest blossomed with hope. Surely he wouldn’t give her this if he
intended to end things. A collar denoted commitment and a serious relationship.
She turned on the stool when she realized he wasn’t standing behind her anymore, rather he was
kneeling. In his hands was the largest, most gorgeous diamond engagement ring she’d ever seen.
“Ty.” The tears she’d fought back earlier returned full-force and brought friends.
“I want you to marry me, Gwen. I want you to be my wife by law and my submissive by choice. Stay
here with me. Please.”
She nodded, her throat too clogged with happiness to speak the word. He grinned, placing the ring on
her finger and she laughed.
“Dear God, Hollywood. Couldn’t you find a bigger ring?” A diamond surrounded by sapphires
engulfed her finger.
59
Mari Carr
He joined her laughter. “I don’t want anyone to mistake the fact that you are completely, one-hundred
percent spoken for.” He reached up to stroke the collar at the throat and she felt the familiar racing of her heart he managed to inspire with a single touch.
“I love you.” The words were new to her lips, but familiar to her heart. She’d fallen in love with him the first night he’d fallen asleep in her bed in the guest house, looking so lonely and weary. She couldn’t help but care for him and she’d been a fool to hide her feelings for so long.
“I love you too.” He pulled her into his arms, kissing her deeply and she reveled in the passion behind his caress. He led her over to the bed and he undressed slowly, leisurely. Their unhurried pace was a sharp contrast to the mad dash of sex they’d succumbed to every night since she’d moved into his room. It was as if the idea of forever had calmed the rough, frightened edges in each of them and the rhythm of their
evening songs would never be the same again.
As he pushed her back onto the bed, he came into her, his lips kissing her gently as his cock moved
deeply, slowly within her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, meeting his thrusts, trying to show him with her lips and body how very much she loved him, wanted him.
When they came together, it wasn’t the usual blinding, crushing eruption, but rather a sensual melding so hot, she felt her as if her body was melting into his.
He held her as they struggled to catch their breath and she fought to recover her wits. She leaned up
on her elbow and looked at his beloved, handsome face. He watched her through hooded eyelids, a smile on his lips.
“So, what do you think of my talents, Mr. Ransome?” she teased. “Good enough to get me a part in
your next movie?”
He laughed as she fluffed her hair in true starlet style. “Sweetheart, you’ve just landed the role of my leading lady for the rest of our lives. Forever.”
Her heart swelled at the thought.
Forever.
Yeah, she could do that.
60
Epilogue
And the Oscar goes to…
Ty squeezed Gwen’s hand as they emerged from the back of the limo, blinded by the sudden flashing
of a thousand cameras.
“Ready?” he asked.
She smiled, her beautiful face glowing with her pregnancy. She looked gorgeous in her custom-made
Elie Saab maternity gown. The sapphire shade of the silk highlighted her red tresses and accentuated her bright blue eyes. They’d walked this red carpet several times in the past couple of years, but tonight’s trip was special because for the first time, they were both in the limelight.
“Mr. Ransome, Ms. Preston,” Ryan Seacrest called out. They walked toward the interviewer as the
cameras continued to flash. “It must be very gratifying to have the movie you co-scripted nominated for movie of the year.”
“It is,” Ty said. “Very gratifying, very exciting.”
“The movie is based on a collection of your short stories, isn’t that correct, Ms. Preston?”
“Yes it is. The stories in
Evening Songs
have a very special place in my heart.”
“Was it hard adapting your stories for the silver screen? I mean,
Evening Songs
was your first attempt at writing a screenplay, wasn’t it?” Ryan asked.
“It wasn’t particularly difficult,” she replied, looking at Ty. “I had an excellent writing partner.”
Ty raised his eyebrows. “Of course, we did have to do some rather extensive character studies.”
“Yes, we did,” she agreed. “Very extensive.”
“Do you think you’ll work on screenplays together in the future?” Ryan asked.
Ty shrugged. “If the right story came along, perhaps. We—”
“Oh Mr. Ransome, Mr. Ransome,” a shrill, high-pitched voice interrupted the interview. He looked
over to see Bambi Starr waving to him from the front row of the crowd of fans. “Remember me?”
He heard Gwen chuckle as he fought back a groan.
“Oh look, Hollywood, an old friend. Wanna go over and say hello?”
He tightened his grip around her waist. “Careful, Mrs. Ransome.” He stressed the name she hadn’t
taken after their wedding, electing instead to keep Gwen Preston. He’d agreed keeping her maiden name
was a smart move professionally. Besides, her nickname of Mrs. Ransome had worked its way into their
bedroom adventures as had her name for him—Master.
Mari Carr
Her eyes darkened with arousal at the sound of her married name and he wondered how they’d
manage to sit through the whole damn awards ceremony.
“Seeing Bambi actually reminds me of something I’ve always wanted,” he whispered.
“What’s that?”
“You on your knees in that limo, sucking my cock.”
She grinned. “I think that could be arranged.”
He stopped mid-step and glanced over her shoulder, as if looking for their car. She laughed.
“Later, Hollywood. Much, much later.”
62
About the Author
Some people fall apart on their thirtieth birthday, others on their fortieth. For Mari Carr, thirty-four was the year that took her down. After she spent the day crying and saying, “I haven’t done anything I thought I would,” her husband finally asked what was left undone. Her answer was simple—she hadn’t
written a book or decorated her house. “So do it,” he said.
Six years later, the house is sparkling with fresh paint and new furniture and her computer is jammed
full of stories—novels, novellas, short stories, and dead-ends. The lesson: it’s never too late to achieve a goal or two!
Librarian by day and mother of two teenagers, Mari Carr found her time for writing by squeezing it
into the hours between three a.m. and daybreak when her family is asleep and the house is quiet.
To learn more about Mari Carr, please vis
it www.maricarr.com
or join her Yahoo! group to join in the fun with other readers as well as Mari Carr:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Heat_Wave_Readers/join
Look for these titles by Mari Carr
Now Available:
Erotic Research
Tequila Truth
Learning Curves
Because of You
Sometimes what you’re looking for is closer than you think.
Because of You
© 2009 Mari Carr
Jessie’s life is a mess. In the eight hellish months since her husband died in a freak accident, she’s been mugged, her house has been trashed, and now she’s receiving frightening pranks calls. She resists a friend’s offer of a weekend getaway—her grief is still too fresh to consider meeting anyone new.
Then again, since it’s a party for gay men, there won’t be any pressure, right?
ER doctor Caleb James feels perfectly at ease among his gay brother’s friends, but one look at Jessie
sparks a sexual tension that’s impossible to ignore. A few drinks and a few hours of conversation later, things move a lot faster than either of them expect. Jessie is left confused and Caleb aches with regret—and love for a woman who is still guarding her heart.
Pressure is the last thing she needs. But as it becomes apparent that her string of misfortunes trace back to her husband’s death, help is what she’s going to get. Caleb’s help…ready or not.
Enjoy the following excerpt for
Because of You:
“Husband?” he asked and she saw his eyes dart to her ring finger. She’d given up wearing her
diamond engagement ring, but she couldn’t seem to part from the actual white gold wedding band.
She sucked in a breath at his question. She’d carefully avoided talking about Tommy all night. She’d
wanted a night to forget, a night to pretend that her life was normal and happy and that she hadn’t had her heart ripped out of her chest eight months earlier.
“I’m a widow,” she said and the sound of that simple word released the flow of ice cold water
throughout her body once again. For a few hours, she’d been warm. Hell, between Caleb and the alcohol, she spent more than a few moments on fire and it had felt so damn good.
“I’m sorry,” he said, rising and crossing the room to take her icy hands in his. She didn’t realize until his touch that she was shaking. In just one evening, he’d diminished the shadow of fear that constantly hovered over her. He’d rejuvenated her, made her feel alive.
She shook her head, desperately willing away the chill, the sadness. Dammit, she didn’t want to be