I am soooo close to releasing Strapped Down! It’s set for February 1st (barring any hangups with Amazon putting it up). One of my ARC readers told me she likes it even more than the first. I hope you will too 🙂
I am doing my traditional final read-through this weekend and I think it’s high-time I post a preview. This is the prologue for Strapped Down, and it gives you a very rare glimpse into Taylor’s psyche. The rest of the book is from Shyla’s POV.
Nina G. Jones
Stroke. Stroke. Stroke. Stroke. Breathe. Taylor chants the words over and over again in his thoughts as his body carves through the cool water of his pool. Swimming has served as a great distraction for him as long as he could remember, but this time it only works for a few minutes. He rests his forearms on the edge of the pool as he wonders what he should do next. I should let her go. He has known this from the beginning. He should never have pursued Shyla when she scampered out of the coffee shop on that fateful day. He should never have offered her that ride, or the job, or all of the gifts.
He has always had control; in fact, that was the only thing Taylor had been certain of, his ability to control every aspect of his life. But this woman, who looks like an innocent doll, has somehow managed to turn all of the meticulously planned order of his life into chaos. And yet, he cannot stay away. There is a pull, something beyond either of their comprehensions that continues to bring them back to each other.
I thought I was broken. Ever since Taylor could remember he has never felt warmth or affection towards anyone in his life. He often wondered if he was defective. After a while he came to terms with the fact that he would never have those moments of passion; those moments of pure emotion that he so often watched flood people around him. He often mocked those who were newly in love. A form of insanity, he told himself. And now, everything is turned on its head. He cannot will logic or rationality over his feelings for Shyla. When he is sitting in a meeting or being driven in the back of his Bentley, his mind often wanders to thoughts of her and he has to hide his grin. He tries to turn off his emotions in hopes that she will walk away and save herself from a terrible fate, but just the slightest hint of sadness in her eyes makes the facade melt away. He feels that he must guard her, protect her in a way that he has never felt towards his subs. Yes, he took care of some of his subs, but this is more than that, this is not just about control. I am in love. Fuck. There is nothing he can do to stop it. He is now one of those hysterical, irrational, pathetic people he once looked down upon.
Taylor pulls himself out of the pool and wraps a towel over his wet body as he heads back into his house. He let her walk away after the incident because there was nothing left for them to say to each other. The experience they shared said it all, and it was now up to Shyla if she wanted to stay. Beneath all the lazy Sundays, extravagant gifts, and cute texts: this is who he really is. The right thing for them to do was part ways and let the flames cool. But really, he let her walk away because he knows she’ll come back. She’ll come back because she feels it too. And while it was ugly, while it was demented and pathological, it was also real. And if—when—she returns, he knows he can have all of her. She’ll put up a fight, that’s one of his favorite things about her, she makes him work for it, but she won’t run away for good. He grabs his phone lying on the edge of the pool and sends her a message.
I meant what I said to you in the darkroom.
He knows the moral thing to do is to tell her to leave, save herself before it is too late, but Taylor’s love is greedy. Taylor’s love is selfish. His love doesn’t want to see her with someone else. His love does not want her to live a life without him. His love will consume Shyla whole until there is nothing left. There is no other way; there is no happy medium.
Taylor stares impatiently at his phone. Maybe this is the time she comes to her senses after all. He paces in his bedroom, resisting the urge to call her. This has to be her decision. This will only work if it is her call. He tries to think about anything else, but all his thoughts come back to her. The way her soft flesh turned red under the crop like a sweet apple. The way she winced and bit her lip to stifle the screams and instead let out a faint yelp. He didn’t want to be aroused, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. Taylor thought he could have lived a vanilla life with her. He was happy to do so, but then she asked. She asked to try the lifestyle and now that he has seen her tied and gagged and begging for mercy, he can never erase that. He wants it all. He can finally have it all. There is no going back. There is no one else, but Shyla.
The phone rings. It’s her. He knew she would call because despite their many differences, in many ways they are the same. He lets it ring once, then twice, to remind her this is what she wants. Taylor accepts the call.
“Shyla?” His voice is a whisper.
There is a thud. Then silence. Finally, the faint voice of a man in the distance: “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”
Stay tuned for Strapped Down, coming soon!
OXOX- Nina G.