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She shot him a funny look. “Keys to your heart?”
He snorted. “Sorry, baby, ain’t that romantic. But if that’s what you want to think, you can.”
She lifted and dropped one shoulder. “Then, what are they for?”
He plucked the larger silver key from the box and held it up. “This one will be for our house.”
“Our house?”
“Yeah, told you this place is only temporary since the trailer belongs to Shelter from the Storm. We need somethin’ more permanent. A foundation. For the house. For us. For Maya.”
Syn’s dark eyebrows knitted together. “Where’s this house?”
“Nowhere yet. But this lot’s ours.” One of the perks of belonging and being loyal to the Fury.
“It is?”
“Yeah, and come spring—once a construction crew can break ground—we’re gettin’ a house built on it. You up for that?”
“For the three of us?”
“Yeah. And maybe a cat or dog for Maya. We’ll see. Let’s get the house first. If you want that. You haven’t said yes, yet.”
“Yes,” she breathed. “Hell yes. It’ll be perfect.”
“Nothin’ in life’s perfect, we both know that, but it’ll be a step in that direction.”
She glanced down at the lone key that remained in the open box. She pulled it out and held it up between them. “What’s this one for?”
“That one’s just as important as,” he lifted the house key up, “this one.” He dropped it back into the box. He took the tiny brass key from her fingers, then reached behind his back again and brought out the gift bag he’d been hiding there. He held it out to her. “Open it.”
“It’s not my birthday.”
“No shit. In case you missed it, that wasn’t a request, it was an order. Open it.”
She shot him a bratty smirk, then parted the blood red tissue paper that peeked out of the top of the black gift bag.
She dug her hand deep into the bag and paused. Her brow dropped low and she slowly pulled out the circle of black leather.
Seeing it in her fingers just about did him in.
Ain’t playtime. Not yet.
The smooth collar was only about an inch wide and instead of an O-ring at the front, the ring was shaped like the outline of a cat head. A circle with cat ears. Just like her cat-eared sweatshirt she loved so damn much.
She stared at it. “I don’t understand.”
“You will.” As he rose from the chair, he pulled her to her feet. “Turn around.”
She only hesitated for the slightest bit, then she did as he demanded.
His dick flexed impatiently in his jeans. It would have to wait.
“Lift up your hair.”
She moved her ponytail out of the way, exposing the delicate column of her neck.
“Don’t move,” he warned in the voice he used when it was playtime.
He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the base of her neck, then straightened. After unbuckling the collar, he put it around her neck the same as he would a gold necklace with a diamond pendant.
To him this was a fuck of a lot better than any diamond or gold. He hoped she thought so, too. He pulled a tiny brass padlock out of the front pocket of his jeans and secured the collar around her neck. He made sure it fit snugly but not tight enough where it would irritate her skin.
“Like a fuckin’ bra, you’re to wear that whenever you’re in public. Or, otherwise, when I tell you to. When you’re on the farm or here at home, and we’re not usin’ it in play, then you don’t gotta wear it unless you wanna. But you will always wear it on stage. Can’t fuckin’ wait to see you wearin’ my collar under the lights while you sing, knowing you belong to me. Some people will recognize what it is, a lot more won’t. If someone asks you about it, you tell them what you want. But you will always tell them you’re taken. You got that?”
“Yes.”
Using her hips, he turned her around and brushed his lips over hers. Then he took a step back and held out his hand, turned it over and opened it. On his palm laid the tiny brass key.
She stared at it in confusion.
“Take it. This one’s yours. This way you can remove that collar any time you’d like. I never want you to think that you’re stuck with me or that you’re not free to leave at any time. But if you fuckin’ do leave, it’ll only happen once. You get me?”
She nodded, her eyes just as heated as her cheeks. “Yes.”
“I’m in it for the duration, Syn. I hope to fuck you are, too.”
She took the key from his palm, wrapped her fingers around it, and squeezed it tight. “I am.” She then surprised him by grabbing his hand, lifting it and turning it palm up. She held out her fist, opened it and dropped the key back onto his palm. “I won’t need this key.”
