My dear sweet Evvie. My wife. My lover. My one. My only.

I’m writing this as a way for you to get to know me further. Deeper.

You know parts. Pieces. But do you really know all? I’m not a man of many words, as you know. I’d prefer to show you how I feel through the use of our bodies. Loving every inch of you, every curve, every freckle, as we move as one.

The first time that I met with Dr. Santos without you, he told me to start writing in a journal. He said it was a way for me to get out of my head. I told him he was a contradicting asshole. He laughed. I’m not a nice person when you’re not around, my sweet Evvie. I don’t take well with being told what to do. This is why I own my clubs. Why I’m the boss. Why I’m in control. I need it. I can’t have it any other way or else my life would be fucking miserable. The only good thing in it, is you. You are my strength. My light.

After I left Matteo’s office, his words bounced around in my head and I found myself at a book store. A black leather bound book filled with blank pages called to me. I remember my fingers tingling as it drew me in with each step I took towards it. The need to have the small 5x8 book took control. It was thrilling really. It was the same feeling I got when I first met you months ago.

I never told you how I felt. That moment when I walked in on you hugging Kane, a deep seeded need to rip his face off surfaced. It shocked me to the core, taking my breath away. I had never felt that way about anyone. I told you that I had an ex, someone who ripped my heart out when her boyfriend came back. Well with her, I never felt how I feel with you. I never had the urge to mark her as mine. To control her. With you? Evvie, I have to be in control of you. In the bedroom at least. Other times? You are your own woman. I know it. You know it. But I love you more every day that you submit to me when we play. I thank you for giving that piece of yourself to me. I know it’s hard to lose control. Trust me.

Now, this book is for my thoughts but I think it will be filled with so much more. This will be my gift to you, my little vixen. I can’t tell you how happy my words will be. You know my past. My history. But all you know is what I’ve told you. Let me show you what has really happened. Allow me to suck you in with my words. The only thing I ask in advance is for your forgiveness.

With this book, I’m giving you a piece of myself. It’s like a puzzle. Each journal entry a piece fitting into place. Some you may have to force until you find the right one that fits. But just know that this puzzle will reveal the real me. The whole me.




“How are things going with the Mrs.?”

My body buzzed just thinking about her. My wife. Evvie Neal, now MacLean. The moment she signed her name on that legal piece of paper, her being mine was made official. Not that I needed a fucking piece of paper to prove that fact. I almost wanted to ask her if she knew what she was signing herself up for.


I turned to Dr. Matteo Santos, my psychiatrist, and a friend of sorts. His warm brown eyes settled on me as he waited. I wanted to make him wait longer. I never liked talking but the guy didn’t put up with my shit. Had to respect him for that.

“Things are going well,” I mumbled. They could have been worse, I knew that but I still felt like life had thrown us a shitty hand.

“How well?” he asked, crossing an ankle over the opposite knee.

Rubbing my chin, I bit back a smile. How well? If I told him honestly, I would be kissing and telling. No one needed to know that I had my wife bound and gagged, ready for my taking only an hour before. The thought had crossed my mind on leaving Evvie there, but I wasn’t mean. A sadist, yes. Cruel? No.

“We’re getting by.” And that was the truth. Happy and elated with each other. Bring other people into the picture and we were fucking toxic. Like a time bomb waiting to explode. Except it was always me doing the exploding.

“How is Evvie doing after losing the baby?”

My stomach clenched. Ah, yes. The baby. My baby. The thought of my wife carrying something that was mine, made my blood hum. That’s right folks. A man who never wanted kids in the first place, was almost blessed with one and now had it torn from his hands. “As good as can be.”

“How are you doing?”

I scoffed and shifted in my seat. “Knowing my wife is hurting and I can’t do a single thing about it, fucking kills me.” My voice cracked. God, I was turning into a pussy. Crying and shit. Getting emotional over something I never had in the first place.

Scrubbing a hand down my face, I sighed. “I just want her happy.” I wanted my Evvie back. The fiery spirited woman who captured my heart and forced me to my knees from the very beginning.

“Makes sense, Brett. The connection you two have is not something you see often, if at all anymore.”

I frowned and met Dr. Santos’ gaze. His eyes shone, his white shirt making his Latino tanned skin glow. “What’s the point of being with someone if you don’t have that connection?”


I nodded once.

“I have no fucking clue.”

I coughed, choking back a laugh. “Dr—”


“Matteo, I was not expecting that answer,” I told him.

He smirked. “I know. Seriously, though. I’ve had many partners where they just laid there or weren’t into it. Even when we weren’t having sex, mentally, the connection wasn’t there.”

I never experienced this connection he was referring to with anyone else but Evvie. Even when it came to my relationship with Tori McLeod…or Chelios, I guess it now was, that magnetic pull wasn’t there.

“You’re a lot like me, Brett.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“You need mental stimulation just as bad, if not more, then the physical one. Am I right?” he asked, his eyes twinkling, challenging me to argue.

He was right. Interesting. That made me wonder just how much the good doctor and I had in common.




Unlocking the door to our apartment, I stepped into a wall of my two favorite scents. Lavender and vanilla. The only thing missing, was me.

I threw the keys onto the table against the wall and leaned my neck from side to side. The tendons cracked, sending a shiver down the length of my spine.

My body stirred, my dick lengthening in my black dress pants as I made my way to my wife.

At times I would wake up, scared shitless that this was all a dream. A wonderful dream mind you, but a dream none the less. Every night I prayed that God wouldn’t take her away from me. Even though I could be an overbearing possessive asshole, I needed her more than she needed me. I knew that, but I didn’t think she did. I had told her time and again that I was addicted to her. She was my drug and I was the junkie that would do anything to get my fix.

The next day we were finally heading to Vegas for our much needed honeymoon. It had been several weeks since we got married but after losing the baby, there was no way that I would allow Evvie to fly. She needed time and time is what I gave her.


The soothing voice of my wife travelled through my body, gripping my soul in a firm grip. I opened the bathroom door and was greeted with Evvie lying naked and soapy in the large white claw bathtub.

She smiled and reached out to me. Her pale form glistened with droplets of water making my mouth salivate. Her rosy nipples pebbled under the cool air and I had to stop myself from growling over the fact that it wasn’t me making them hard. What could I say? I was jealous of anything that touched her before I did. I couldn’t help it. That’s what my weekly sessions with Dr. Santos were for…well that and other shit.

As I stripped, my body vibrated, needing her skin against me.

Every time I left a session with Matteo, I felt empty. Revealing bits of myself to the doctor each week should have made me feel whole, lighter, as the demons of my past were laid out before me. But it didn’t work that way. As parts were revealed, I needed something to fill the void and Evvie was the only one that could do it.

“How was your session with Dr. Santos?” she asked as I sat behind her.

I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and pulled her against me before brushing my nose up the length of her slender neck. Inhaling, my eyes fluttered closed. Her scent, vanilla and lavender, calmed me. It eased the ache in my chest, the anxiety in my gut. The emptiness I had felt since starting this whole doctor-patient thing.

“Not as good as the one you and I had this morning,” I purred in her ear. Images of her bound and gagged reigned into my mind. Some people played. Others lived it. We just…were.

She giggled, her cheeks turning pink.

My semi-hard cock rested against her ass but out of respect for her, I didn’t take it further. Even though I knew she wouldn’t stop me, baths were our time to talk, to listen. To feel.

Evvie sighed, her chest rising and falling with deep cleansing breaths.

One of my favorite things about the woman sitting in my arms, was her allowing me free reign over her body. To pull my pleasure from her as I pushed her to new heights. Taking deep from within the hidden fantasies, the dark desires.

Reaching for a cloth, she dipped it in the water before turning towards me. She chewed her full bottom lip and ran the facecloth over my shoulders and down my arm, repeating the movements on the opposite side.

My dick twitched as I watched her teeth graze over her lip. “Lover.”

Her gaze met mine, a small smile splaying on her face. “Let me wash you,” she whispered.

I knew she wasn’t just talking about washing my body but my soul as well. My inner being. The part of me that was destroyed years ago when I was a child after my mother and her men abused me. It wasn’t sexual, thank fuck for that, but it still left me…broken. Evvie was always trying to help me, not change me, but make me feel better. She showed me that there was such a thing as love. But ours went further. Deeper. It controlled us.

Evvie ran the cloth over my stomach, my ab muscles twitching under the light touch. Her other hand remained on my bent knee, knowing that I liked it when she touched me. I always needed her skin against mine.

“How are you feeling?” she asked me, her voice soft and tentative.

I shrugged. I didn’t always know how to put what I felt into words. That’s why I was starting the journal thing.

“You had a nightmare last night.” It wasn’t a question. She knew me well.

I nodded, my jaw clenching as the images from my dream invaded my thoughts.

“Mommy. Why don’t you love me? Why are you hurting me?”

“Because you’ve been a bad boy, Brett.”

I stared up at my mother, wondering what I did that was so wrong. All I wanted was a cookie. “But I didn’t do anything.”

My mom’s blue eyes narrowed. “Don’t fucking lie to me, little boy. I saw you steal that cookie.”

A hard lump formed in my throat as I shook my head. “I was hungry. I didn’t mean it.”

“I didn’t mean it,” I mumbled over and over.


I snapped out of my trance and focused on Evvie’s beautiful face. Her blue eyes filled with unshed tears.

“Hi,” she said softly and cupped my cheek.

I leaned into her palm and pulled her against me, my heart racing as I tried easing my rattled nerves.

“We’ll get through this. I promise you.”

As her promise reigned into my mind, why did I have a feeling that this shit had only just begun.