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bonding.”
    She let out her breath. “Yes.”
    “You’ve been instructed on what we do, how we perceive each other at our firm?” One dark eyebrow rose questioningly.
    “Yes. I have.” She clasped her hands in front of her, trying to look prim, which was very hard to do when such a sexy beast sat in front of her.
    “And you are comfortable with our arrangement and wish to join us?”
    She nodded. “Very much. I signed the contract and hope to be an asset to the firm.”
    “Yes, I’m aware of the contract. It has been signed by all of us, and a copy has been sent to your room.” Morgan tilted his chin down and laced his fingers together in front of him, his elbows propped on the arms of the chair. “Do you have a secret you wish to bond us with?”

    Bonding Camp
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    Lauren hesitated for only a moment. Then she remembered the decision she had come to a while ago. She was in this all the way.
    “I’ve always wanted…” Could she say it? Actually say it out loud?
    “Yes?” Morgan asked, raising that eyebrow again. “Contrary to popular belief, I can’t read minds, Miss Brooke.”
    “I’ve always wanted to be handcuffed,” she said, her words coming out in a rush.

    * * * *
    Morgan forced himself not to smile. Handcuffs. This prim, proper girl in the yellow sundress, who looked so innocent standing there in front of him, wanted to know the feel of steel bracelets securing her wrists while someone like him did whatever he wanted to her.
    His shaft pulsed at the thought.
    They all had their kinks, this motley crew who made up their law firm. Some liked bondage. Some liked to dish out a bit of punishment—nothing too harsh, mind you. No telltale marks would ever show in court, nor would anyone ever draw blood. Bonding camp was the safest place for you to be if you wanted to indulge in being punished or being the “punisher.”
    There were also those who liked a taste of the same sex once in a while, or a bit of two-on-one matches, but didn’t want it broadcast to the masses. Then there were the fetishes, too many to name.
    No matter what your pleasure was, there was always someone to satisfy you. It was the main perk of working at Cane, Moss, and White. No one harbored any sexual frustration. An active sex life was the basis of a happy life in Morgan’s opinion.
    “Handcuffs, then,” he said. “I do believe I have a set. Or two.” He could swear she was visibly vibrating in anticipation.
    He pushed himself up out of the chair and rose to his full height of six foot five. He reached out and cupped the back of her head in his 44
    Christelle Mirin
    hand and drew her to him. “Would you like to know one of my secrets?” he asked, liking the way her cheeks were flushed with heat.
    “Tell me,” she said, her gaze locked with his.
    He leaned down, placing his cheek against hers, his mouth at her ear. “I like it if you struggle just a bit. Put up a fight to make it interesting.”
    She sucked in a breath sharply.
    “Don’t worry,” he crooned, massaging her scalp with his fingers.
    “If it becomes too much, just say the word ‘stop.’” He ran his tongue along the edge of her ear. She smelled wonderful, of warmth and sex.
    “Are you willing to fulfill my desire as I am ready to satisfy yours?”
    “Yes,” she said breathily.
    His fingers tightened in her hair, gripping it. “Let’s see how much fight you have in you then.”
    Lauren pressed her hands against his chest and pushed herself away.
    Morgan laughed. The fire in her eyes was a deft touch. “It won’t be that easy,” he said, advancing on her. “I will have you.”
    Lauren ran her tongue across her upper lip. She darted to the side.
    Morgan caught her with one arm around her waist and lifted. She kicked her feet, jiggling nicely in his grasp. With his other hand, he nimbly grabbed the zipper on the back of her dress, and in moments he had the dress off her completely and flung the bundle of cloth across the room.
    He laughed