#MidWeekTease..."I've paid my dues, surely? Three years I've given us. Now I'm ready."

Morning ( or whatever) all...

Welcome to this weeks #MidWeekTease

Brr it's cold and snowing. I'm sitting in my study in my sheepskin -ined boots... yes and clothes, honestly.

Which has nothing to do with #MidWeekTease—although I was tempted to do a tease from Where there's a Will, my free Regency m/m available from Evernight Publishing, because that is set in a snow storm.

However I want to feel warm—or what passes as warm for Scotland. And I have a book out next Tuesday, (six more sleeps) set in Scotland in the summer.

So it was a no brainer. my #MidWeekTease is from The Dommes of Ballingal: Kristin, which is available for pre-order from

 http://www.bookstrand.com/the-dommes-of-ballingal-kristin

Blurb...

Kristin McCrory would never in a million years have thought her ex-husband would show up on Ballingal and profess his need to sub for her. Flynn is the ultimate stubborn Alpha male, and his refusal to even discuss her need to be in charge had already cost them their marriage. That, and his apparent need to seek out the most dangerous place to report on in his work as a television documentary reporter.

However, the Flynn she knew is not the Flynn who stands before her now. This Flynn is a broken man and she can’t just turn him away. As an Empath and mind reader, Kristin can sense his emotional and physical pain. It means Kristin feels even more drawn to the man she loves, and their connection is as strong as ever.

Love is worth fighting for after all, and Flynn finds new strength in his submission.

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your tease...

(Flynn is trying to explain his thought process...)

Flynn put the boxes down, very carefully. He felt as if he was about to walk on egg shells. "I've paid my dues, surely? Three years I've given us. Now I'm ready."

"You've given us?" Her tone was incredulous and her dark eyebrows disappeared under the carroty red fringe of her hair. The two colors should have seemed incongruous, but Flynn hardly noticed. She'd dyed her eyebrows and eyelashes ever since he'd met her.

"Given us?" Her voice rose. "Get real and open your tight little mind, Flynn. You've given me fuck all, except heartache. I vowed when you walked away I wouldn't cry one single sodding tear. And you know?" She poked him in the chest. The look in her eyes made it clear she would have preferred to use a knife not her finger. "I didn't. Not one."

A lump wedged in Flynn's throat. She hadn't been upset? He’d gone on a misery-fest for a month, and eventually been dragged out of his bed by his Director. Was it all a mistake? Should he turn round and sit on the jetty until the boat came back? No, no not that. I need her.

"You know why, Flynn?" She poked him once more, and the pain hit his heart and shattered it into tiny pieces of guilt.

He shook his head; scared if he spoke his voice would break as well as his heart.

"I'll tell you then, shall I? Because I shed fucking millions, that's why. I was a mess, and if it hadn't been for Justine, god knows where I'd be now."

It might be horrible news, and he did feel awful, but deep inside, Flynn had a tiny glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, something could rise out of the ashes of their relationship?

Flynn swallowed. "You're," he cleared his throat to try and make his cotton wool tongue work. "You're too strong to do anything silly."

She curtsied mockingly. "I'm glad you realize that, Flynn. Because if you're serious about subbing to me, we've got a lot to talk about."

He was, or he thought he was, but even so…

"You're right, and I'm guessing that's why Justine said there was no room at the inn."

"Hmm." Kristin stared at him until it was all Flynn could do not to look at his feet and scuff the toes of his boots in the stones. "Maybe. Right. Pass me those boxes."

Flynn looked at the three heavy boxes he'd carried up from the jetty. They were cumbersome. "No, I'll take them, they're heavy."

The glare could have felled a giant. "Flynn. Watch my lips, and listen carefully. You. Pass. Me. Those. Boxes."

"No."

She circled him. Flynn made himself stand still and not watch her. However he did tense his stomach muscles. Just incase she intended to follow the pokes up with something harder. Instead she nodded, just once and he would swear he saw a tear in the corner of her eye.

"Then goodbye. The post boat will be back in a couple of hours." She turned her back on him and walked toward a nearby building.

Fuck shit and bollocks. That went well.

"Kristin, please let me explain." He mentally damned the whine and pleading in his voice. "Please…" what should he call her? Mistress? Ma'am? They both sounded wrong to him. "Please, Love."

She stopped walking and spun around on her heels to take the few strides back to him. Her glare would have felled a lesser man, and as she folded her arms across her chest, her stance was very definitely all out Domme.

"Talk."

Flynn took a deep breath. He understood that it was his one chance to tell her why he said no. If she didn't accept it, he would be on the post boat and back to the mainland faster than he could say Shibari and crops. The thought of those made him shudder. What would he accept? Flynn really had no idea.

"I thought, that as a sub, I would respect my Domme. Help her, look after her and well…" He splayed his hands out in helplessness. He really had no idea how to explain his thoughts. "It would be disrespectful to allow you to carry something like that when I'm here." He shrugged. "I know its caveman like, but I'm still of the opinion a woman needs cherishing and looking after. Letting you carry something like this isn't either. "

"And not obeying your Domme is disrespectful."

"But you're not my Domme are you? Not until you say so."

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