Page 51 of Crushing Clover

“What do you have for collars?”

Denny whistled. “You have a lot to choose from. I’ve been making them when business is slow, and no one has extra money these days.”

He brought us to a display case that looked like an antique. There was a button on the top that rotated the display like a wide Ferris wheel, so customers could get a good view of the contents.

I stared in consternation at the rotating shelves of collars, not sure how I felt about the idea. In this situation, Rush putting a collar on me felt like it would be a reminder they literally owned me. Yes, I had agreed to do this to save Noah, but I was theirs. I belonged to them—this wasn’t a kink dynamic we’d negotiated.

At first, I could feel Rush trying to draw me into the decision, or at least gauge what I liked best, but he ended up picking something on his own because I couldn’t bring myself to speak.

“I’ll take that one and that one.” The first was a plain black leather color with a little bell. It was cute, if someone was into this kind of thing. The second one was a plain stainless band with a discreet locking mechanism in the back.

“As for posture collars, I only have a few in stock.” Denny put four strange-looking leather contraptions on the counter. “This one is a custom order that didn’t get picked up.”

Why were they so tall? The custom one he was talking about was even taller, and shaped different. Looking at it made meclaustrophobic, and I backpedaled until a display brought me up short.

“As usual, your work is impeccable.”

“Thank you.”

“Come here, girl.”

I shook my head.

He snapped his fingers impatiently. “I’m not going to ask twice. Don’t make me punish you right here in the store.”

Oh god. What? Would he really do that?

We had a wordless battle of wills, and within about five seconds, I realized there was no way I’d win. Not only was Rush used to getting his own way, he would never cave in front of an audience—especially not someone cut from the same cloth, whom he seemed to respect.

I lowered my chin and went to him, trying not to look like a recalcitrant child and probably failing spectacularly.

“Good girl.”

Weirdly, the warmth in his voice buzzed through me, like a shot of vodka on an empty stomach.

“I’m going to try this one on you. I can see you don’t like the idea, but it’ll probably keep you out of a world of trouble. It’ll help you remember to keep your mouth shut when you’re not allowed to speak. I’m trying it on you, and then I’ll take it off again.” With one of his fingers, he lifted my chin and gave me a reassuring smile. “I’m not a monster, but I can get impatient when provoked.”

He opened the collar and fitted it against my throat. The extra leather on this one covered my mouth and nose.

That couldn’t be right.

“Hold it there for me.”

I did as I was told, and he walked around behind me and started buckling it into place. My breathing kicked up a notch and my heart felt like it was beating out of my ears.

“Breathe slowly for me. You’re starting to panic.”

By the time he finished with what felt like the last buckle, it was a struggle to stop myself from screaming and clawing the thing off. I closed my eyes, and tears squeezed out.

With a lazy gait, he walked around to the front of me and pushed my hair back, inspecting the work and the fit. Casually, he brushed away my tears. The gesture should have been reassuring, but the gleam in his eyes said he was enjoying my fright a bit too much.

“Very pretty. It fits like it was made for you.” He made a low sound of approval.

The shop owner minded his own business, which I appreciated.

The leather wasn’t mashing my face, but it was snug, and its presence over my mouth and nose would make it awkward to speak. I could breathe, though, no matter what my brain was shrieking.

“You did a good job.” He turned me and unbuckled the collar, as he’d promised. Relief made my knees wobble. When he put the regular leather collar with the bell on me, I was so grateful it wasn’t the posture collar that it felt like a reward. He fastened it there and brushed his fingers up the back of my neck, making me shiver.

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