Keena's Surrender [Brothers Bound 3] (Siren Publishing Classic) Read online

  Brothers Bound 3

  Keena’s Surrender

  Keena’s been hurt, hunted, and haunted by her past. Returning to her hometown and hiding was probably not her best option but she had nowhere else and nothing else she could do with herself.

  George spots Keena at introduction night at Club Collard and can’t figure out what she is doing there. She is in the wrong place, any man with eyes can see that. When she is forced onto a St. Andrews cross and terrified out of her mind he takes it upon himself to care for her. Little did he realize what helping her would do to him.

  Can Keena surrender herself to this man? Can they overcome the atrocities she has been through and come out on top? Can she bring herself to trust George Keepher to keep her safe?

  Genre: Contemporary

  Length: 32,511 words

  KEENA’S SURRENDER

  Brothers Bound 3

  Dace Everan

  EROTIC ROMANCE

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Erotic Romance

  KEENA’S SURRENDER

  Copyright © 2016 by Dace Everan

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-68295-115-6

  First E-book Publication: March 2016

  Cover design by Harris Channing

  All art and logo copyright © 2016 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

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  DEDICATION

  My family and friends. XOXO

  To my wonderful fans. Love you all. Thank you my Siren family. You guys ROCK!

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  About the Author

  KEENA’S SURRENDER

  Brothers Bound 3

  DACE EVERAN

  Copyright © 2016

  Chapter One

  George eyed up the little morsel of a woman, a smirk covering his devilish features. She had the curliest strawberry blonde hair, pinned up on the sides but loose at the back to cascade down her slender back. She glanced up at Jared, his older brother, with the biggest, most innocent eyes he’d ever seen. George was making an appearance at the club, Collared, for its beginners’ intro to bondage session.

  Blain, the owner of the club, had seen George in action. He had seen him assess women as he played with them, as others played with them. Blain had liked what he had seen and hired him to spot the ones who understood and knew what they wanted from the ones who were just lost.

  As far as George was concerned, Jared was the best man for the job. Not only did he have years of experience, he was one damn good teacher. He seemed to pick up on the movements of any submissive, and always kept his cool in any situation, and he knew just how to push the submissive past their comfort levels, to show them that there was more than what they thought they wanted.

  George had watched Jared bind up the little cutie. He watched the cutie’s movements as Jared arranged her arms for display, which happened to be Keena’s cut off. George had noted how Jared had paused, waiting, knowing Keena would object to her arms out there. He grinned. Yup, his brother had played this scene to perfection.

  “Sir?” she squeaked.

  Jared glanced down at the sub. “Yes, Keena?” Jared made sure he knew the names of all the women he bound. It didn’t matter if he’d known them for years or seconds. The first thing he had asked Keena when he had picked her from the crowd was her name. She needed to know he knew she was Keena, not just some random woman he chose for play, that she was an individual.

  Keena looked at her arms. “Are they really supposed to be out like that?” she asked, uncomfortable with her arms stretched out like that. Everyone would see the scars on her wrists crisscrossing upwards to her elbow.

  You’d think the way they had her balanced on the saw horse with her ass hanging over one end and her legs spread, showing the whole room her panty-clad pussy would be a little more disturbing. Nope. It was the way they had her arms spread and tied to two loopholes in the floor, immobilizing her from moving them and showing the whole room her shame.

  The scars, oh how she hated those damned scars, and really, she was sure they had her on this damn horse the wrong way! The last time she had been positioned on one of these, her body had been bent over it, not laying across it!

  Jared lowered and crouched next to her, his gaze on hers. “Look at me, pet,” he ordered softly. Her big lavender eyes met his, and he offered a heartwarming smile. “Are you uncomfortable?”

  She nodded, then paused mid-thought. It wasn’t that she was uncomfortable in the position. Her body felt rather comfortable, relaxed even, if she thought about it. She just didn’t like her arms out in this manner.

  Jared raised a br
ow, standing. Her only discomfort was her shame in the scars. He looked back to the class.

  “Tell me what her mistake was?” he asked the group around him. He needed to specify with this group that communication was so important. The Master was not a mind reader. Yes, he could get subtle hints, but even that wasn’t promising. Communication was the most important interaction when in play. Every sub had to know to speak, not nod, shrug, or shake her head.

  Submissives had a voice, and most Masters would love to hear the slight catch in their sub’s. To hear even a little fear of being pushed past their comfort level. To hear passion when they reached that beautiful place where their minds no longer did all the thinking. They wanted to hear when their sub was set free to float blissfully. Yes. Communication was important.

  A petite blonde stepped forward, head bowed, eyes averted.

  Jared smiled. “Speak,” he murmured.

  Her gaze darted to Keena. “She motioned and did not use her voice, nor did she address you in the proper manner, Sir,” she voiced, stepping back into the line of scantily clad women.

  Jared smiled, hoping someone would treat her tonight. She was a good girl. He’d seen her in here on many occasions, and still she looked to find that perfect match. He’d have to have a chat with Jazz and see if he could keep an eye out and filter out a potential Sir for her.

  Keena grimaced. Shit, she had, hadn’t she? She peeked back up at Jared. “Permission to speak, Sir?” she whispered.

  Jared knelt. “Yes.”

  “Forgive my rudeness. Yes, I’m uncomfortable,” she replied calmly.

  Jared looked her over. She looked rather comfortable. Perhaps he should have grabbed the petite blonde. She would have been a better example, but the men learning here needed to know how to deal with the unsure ones. “How are you uncomfortable?”

  Keena clenched her teeth. She couldn’t lie or he would catch her in it. They always did. She closed her eyes. She couldn’t call out “lily,” the safe word for the night. They hadn’t even done anything to her yet. She would not bail out of this! She was not afraid of a little bondage. She grunted.

  Jared waited patiently, another lesson some of these guys needed to learn, patience.

  “I don’t want my scars showing,” she whispered finally.

  Jared nodded. He had seen them on her arms and at her wrists, nasty crisscrosses. Both wrists had the large, long gouges from wrist to elbow. She either had many failed attempts at suicide, or she had been in the presence of a sicko. He was leaning toward the latter of the two.

  George continued watching as his older brother coaxed the woman into staying, telling her they weren’t there to look at her scars, but to bring her to a higher level. George crossed his arms over his broad chest. He could take her to higher levels. Fuck, he wanted to take her to higher levels. He wasn’t sure if it was the curly hair, or what—he had a thing for cascading curly hair. He could already feel the silken stands twisted in his fist. His dick jerked to life. Maybe it was the innocent-looking facial features. He lowered his eyes and imagined caressing her shoulders—beautiful, milky shoulders. His gaze darted back up and met hers.

  His heart jumped and, shit, what was that feeling deep in his gut? That was what it was. Those eyes. Haunting, lavender eyes. When he fucked her, he would make sure he could see the mixture of passion and lust take hold in those eyes. He would start by lifting her sweet, apple-shaped ass higher on that bench and spreading her legs farther so he could see her glistening pussy at the level he wanted.

  A ball gag in her mouth would be lovely…Okay, he would wait on the gag till she was ready. The hair would have to be pulled up. The outfit…bright red corset, latex skirt and black clunky heels… Shit, she was in the wrong outfit altogether. He would have put her in a deep-blue-brocade-with-black-lace-overlay corset and thong—the woman had beautiful thighs and didn’t need to hide them with the skirt. She’d wear stilettos with straps to draw a man’s attention in the right way, to the right spot—her delicate ankles and beautiful calves.

  The first thing he thought when he saw those clunky heels made his balls cringe inward. Those would hurt if she was pissed off and was a kicker. He would maybe put arm bands on her as well. She obviously spent time at the gym, to have that kind of muscle definition. Of course, the caution she had would have to be worked on…as well as her lack of confidence.

  Rick, one of George’s other brothers, sidled up next to him. “What do you think?” Rick asked in a quiet tone, his deep blue eyes observing the beautiful woman.

  George crossed his arms over his chest and rubbed his jaw in thought. He finally shrugged. “Can’t listen, doesn’t address properly, and doesn’t know how to dress herself very well.” He rubbed the thin line of hair edging his jaw. “She’s unsure, doesn’t hold herself as proudly as she did when she first came in.”

  Rick smirked. His brother had found himself a pet to play with. Shit, he loved when his brothers found an interest, and he swore he could feel possession pouring off of George.

  George sighed. “She’s in the wrong place. She doesn’t want to be dominated, not yet, anyway. She may secretly have wanted to be the one doing the dominating, but she doesn’t have the correct attitude to portray either roll,” he decided, but he most certainly was interested in finding out which one she was interested in. He had seen her pupils dilate when Jared had bound her, and saw her beautiful mouth open in the most sensual way. She liked being bound, just not her scars out on display.

  Catching Jared’s attention, he gave a slight shake of his head. He knew Jared was teaching a lesson and would go no further, but Keena was getting more uncomfortable the longer he kept her there. If George was going to have any chance of getting her to come back to this place, he needed Jared to release her.

  George was the yea-or-nay guy when it came to the random grabbing of volunteers, and whether they should proceed. Had he let Jared proceed, he could have had Keena screaming with delight, but this sweet woman was lost. She might make a sub to someone, but with the obvious issues she had, Jared would get her nowhere anytime soon. Thank God it was just intro night. Jared would go over a few more highlights, then move onto another aspect altogether.

  Keena slipped to the back of the group as soon as she was set free, only half listening to what was being said. She shouldn’t be here. She glanced at Karla and saw the utter devotion in her eyes. Well, she hoped her friend got what she wanted out of all of this. She was not in the right place in her life for this right now.

  She peeked around the room. Men lined the walls. Women who were to be submissive were asked to kneel and watch. Keena grunted. She was no submissive. She wasn’t a dominant, either, and she didn’t even friggen’ belong here. She looked at the door. Maybe if she just slipped out, she would be good. She just needed to go down the hall, turn right, and then left, and she would be at the entrance.

  A tall, hulking redhead quietly made his way towards her. This guy scared her. He had been looking at her the whole evening. She shuddered. She didn’t want to deal with him. She slipped in with the girls, kneeling on the floor.

  George pursed his lips as Greg made a beeline for Keena. She scrambled in between two women on the floor and turned her attention to Jared. Greg backed off and kept his eye on the little treasure. George glanced at Rick. He, too, had seen Greg move in on the little one. They would ensure the man wouldn’t get anywhere near her.

  Greg was a shitbag in George’s book. The fucker shouldn’t even be here, but at least while he was here, the club was able to monitor how he worked with his women. He was into the heavier aspect of BDSM. Not what this little one wanted, nor needed, from the look of her. George motioned to Lila, Jared’s wife, that Greg’s persistent gaze on the little one, Keena, was bothering him. Lila stepped in next to him.

  “Yes,” she whispered, careful not to interrupt her husband’s class.

  “The little one Jared had, Keena. She doesn’t belong here. You want to lead her back towards the bar, offer h
er a drink to keep her busy till whichever one’s her friend is done.”

  Lila nodded.

  “Make sure to let Jazz know no one is to bother her,” he added. He didn’t need Greg sneaking out of the class and finding her on her own. Jazz would make sure Keena was okay. That way, George could stay here and assist Jared from the back of the room.

  Lila nodded. With her head bowed, she slipped in with the women and whispered into Keena’s ear.

  Keena released a sigh of relief. She wasn’t sure who the woman was, but thank God someone noticed she didn’t belong here.

  Chapter Two

  Keena sipped on the long island iced tea. The four big guys in the oval shaped bar chuckled amongst themselves. She slumped, looking around the room. God, she hoped these classes ended soon. The tall bartender who the woman, Lila, had talked to, leaned against the bar and looked her over. She dared not look at him. He reminded her of those big wrestlers on TV, just cuter and not so angry or crazy-looking.

  Her gaze darted to the other three men at the bar. They all looked like wrestlers, in tight leather pants, and black vests. Goodness, the bartender in front of her had a whip coiled and hanging from his hip.

  He smirked. “Why are you here, sugar?” he asked.

  Keena pursed her lips to the side. “Being a really horrible friend, right this minute,” she answered. Truly, she was. She should be in one of those rooms supporting her friend, whose interest to be dominated had all of a sudden appeared, and quirked her into attending the class.