T ABLE O F C ONTENTS
Riptide Publishing
PO Box 6652
Hillsborough, NJ 08844
http://www.riptidepublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Collared
Copyright 2011 by Kari Gregg
Cover Art by Petite-Madame VonApple,
http://petite-madame.deviantart.com
Cover Design by L.C. Chase,
http://lcchase.com/design.htm
Editors: Rachel Haimowitz and Aleksandr Voinov
Layout: L.C. Chase
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher, and where permitted by law. Reviewers may quote brief passages in a review. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Riptide Publishing at the mailing address above, at Riptidepublishing.com , or at
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ISBN: 978-1-937551-09-4
Printed in the United States of America
First edition
November, 2011
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Trans-Global IT director Connor Witt is a rare and prized anomaly: the aggression centers in his brain have been suppressed rather than stimulated by the mutated crops that so recently took over the worlds food supply. Bewildered by his physical changes and terrified of a world growing more and more predatory, Connor risks harassment and worse until Trans-Global CEO David Martin collars Connor to protect him against men like security consultant Emmett Drake. Men who stalk Connor as sweet, sexy prey. Men to whom the newly submissive Connor feels irresistibly drawn.
But David cant be Connors master; Davids straight. He promises to find a worthy man, though. One willing to court and appreciate Connor as more than just some rich mans toy.
While the world adapts to the biological disaster and new laws strip away Connors rights, Davids resolve to protect his boy slowly grows into something more. But can his new desires keep pace with Emmetts determination to claim Connor?
One man offers safety; the other is a safer bet. Problem is, Connors never sure which is which. The one thing he does know? He wants them both.
Pleasantly buzzing from the cocktails his friends had pressed on him, Connor re-knotted the tie required at Trans-Global while he waited for the elevator in the lobby.
Work had been a nightmare since the CDC, the FDA and plenty of other alphabets had made their announcements about the genetic engineering disaster last year. First, the crush of investors scrambling to flee agriculture businesses had stressed Trans-Globals stable of analysts.
Then symptoms emerged in the general population.
Nerves strung tight, Connor fidgeted with his tie. Frustrated investment brokers and technology did not mix. The increasing aggression the mutation provoked had taken a steady toll on the analystsand the investment firms computer equipment. As Director of IT, Connor fixed what they fouled, replaced what they broke, and kept his head down.
Way down.
The less attention he drew to himself, the better. Intense, focused awareness followed him no matter where he went or what he did nowwhen he couldnt hold a challenging stare, every time he yielded to the near-constant invasion of his personal space, whenever they touched him. And they always touched him. Fingers rustled his hair. A proprietary palm smoothed over the base of his spine when he walked. A heavy hand clasped his shoulder as he showed an analyst how hed messed up his email. Again.
They were breaking their computers to get to him.
Connor didnt know what to do. So when his friends had demanded the extra hour at lunch, hed caved. Hed needed the break from the hungry stares at the office and saying no to the drinks his friends poured down him hadnt been an option. Not really.
His friends had grown as predatory as the brokers. Connors nerves were shot. His stomach knotted when he felt heat at his back, a towering body that edged too close behind him. Didnt matter how often one of them moved on him. It always made him shake.
The elevators arrived. Unless you planned to wait for another?
His muscles tensed. God, that voice. Connor darted a glance behind him and tried not to gulp at the full lips that curved into a sexy smile inches away. So near, Connor only needed to lean to bring that mouth to his. Part of him wanted to sway against him. The guy was tall, thick with muscle, and the confident glitter in his dark eyes promised there was little he couldnt handle. Including Connor. Especially Connor.
Hed been fantasizing about that mouth for months. And he didnt even know the mans name.
Come on, pet. The dark-haired stranger chuckled, his fingers settling at Connors waist to nudge him forward. Ill take you upstairs where you belong.
Heart thudding, Connor let the man guide him into the elevator. He wedged himself into a corner, though there was plenty of room for the two of them.
Seventeenth floor, right?
He jerked his head for a brief nod and kept his gaze glued to the tile floor, unsurprised when the stranger growled a warning to an office worker rushing forward as the doors slid shut, sealing them inside. Alone.
Jesus, the guy smelled goodmusky aftershave, the wispy scent of soap and, underneath it, the earthy aroma of aroused man. Connors mouth watered. A wave of lust heated his skin from the tips of his toes to the face he knew must be pink with embarrassment.
You should wear your collar or your ID bracelet before you go out again. Something that identifies your master. The man crowded him, raising an arm to prop it against the wall next to Connors lowered head. Or have you slipped your leash?
He swallowed. The shaming desire to press against the strangers long body churned Connors gut. He unglued his tongue from the roof of his mouth. I didnt sneak away, he mumbled.
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