For Sparrow (The Dream Dominant Collection Book 3) Read online

  For Sparrow

  The Dream Dominant Collection, Volume 3

  Pandora Spocks

  Published by Pandora Spocks, 2017.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  FOR SPARROW

  First edition. October 3, 2017.

  Copyright © 2017 Pandora Spocks.

  ISBN: 978-1386794509

  Written by Pandora Spocks.

  Also by Pandora Spocks

  Rannigan's Redemption

  Rannigan's Redemption Part 1: Resisting Risk

  Rannigan's Redemption Part 2: Running Rogue

  Rannigan's Redemption Part 3: Ransoming Redemption

  Rannigan's Redemption

  The Dream Dominant Collection

  For Sparrow

  Luke & Bella

  Lost & Bound

  Standalone

  Just One Night

  Watch for more at Pandora Spocks’s site.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Also By Pandora Spocks

  Dedication

  Preface

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

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  Further Reading: Lost & Bound

  Also By Pandora Spocks

  About the Author

  About the Publisher

  To my love...

  I'm beyond grateful for your love, support, and your belief in me. You make me believe in myself. Every hero I write has his roots in you. You're my happily ever after!

  Thanks to my fantastic writer friends! You guys make me want to be better. Special thanks to sci-fi/rom author Jolie Mason (https://future-fairytales.com/), for your spot-on insight.

  And a huge shout-out to the Wicked Pens (https://www.facebook.com/groups/WickedPens/), who welcomed me into their family, and encourage me every day.

  Cover design by the talented and sexy Linzi Basset.

  This book is for Rita and Annie...

  Preface

  Welcome to For Sparrow, the third book in the Dream Dominant Collection. I’d like to talk a little about where this story comes from.

  For Sparrow is a work of fiction. It’s a contemporary erotic romance novel and features characters who live the BDSM lifestyle.

  BDSM erotica is a popular genre. We’ve all enjoyed stories about Dominant billionaires who introduce women to their brand of kink. This isn’t that kind of story.

  The reality is that many regular couples, all around us, quietly live a Dom/sub dynamic every day. While sexual kink is an essential part of BDSM, there’s so much more to it than that. Beyond kinky sex, it’s a deeply intimate dance between two people who have embraced their true natures. At the very foundation, a Dominant craves to lead, and a submissive craves to follow.

  Every D/s couple lives out this journey in their own way, but there are some commonalities. The sub is a strong person who willingly relinquishes control to someone stronger, his or her Dom. Together they work out to what extent this power exchange goes, whether it’s only in the bedroom, or it’s a 24/7 arrangement, or somewhere in between.

  Often, there are rituals established by the Dominant, chores or assignments for which the submissive is responsible, all of which are intended to benefit the submissive. Knee time would be one example, a regular time when the sub kneels at the feet of her Dom and releases all the concerns of the day. It’s comparable to meditation, but in this instance, it’s a time of intimacy and bonding for the couple that has nothing to do with sex. Unless it ends in a blow job. But I digress.

  The idea for this story started with a couple of dear friends of mine, Rita and Annie, two strong, smart, accomplished women. They’re also beautiful submissives who have been married to their Alpha male husbands for many years. While they’re capable of caring for themselves, they’ve chosen to give their power to their Dominant partners, who have earned that honor through years of proving themselves worthy of such a gift.

  One day, I wondered, ‘What if...’ What if one of them lost her husband? They’ve been together for decades. Do a Dom’s responsibilities end with his death? Where does a submissive of middle age find a new Dominant to watch over her, cherish her, and to settle her soul? One who is worthy of that trust, of that devotion?

  I pictured one of them buckling a leather collar around her neck and kneeling at the appointed place, waiting for her Dominant to come to her. Only no one ever comes. The image actually brought me to tears.

  THAT is where this story began for me.

  —Pandora

  Chapter 1

  I buried my husband today.

  The thought tumbled through Jessi’s mind over and over, like clothes in a dryer. Voices around her sounded oddly muted, as though she were underwater. Occasionally, someone touched her, a simple grasping of her hand, a gentle pat on her shoulder, and the sensation felt like burning embers showering down over her.

  Following the graveside service, mourners had gathered at her home. Hers and Graham’s.

  Only Graham isn’t here. We left him at the cemetery. I buried my husband today.

  Food had appeared in her kitchen. Casseroles, desserts, salads. There was even a brisket. An army of women had set up a command post and were making sure guests had plenty to eat and drink. Jessi wondered briefly if there was enough ice for the drinks. Maybe she should ask Graham run to out and get some more.

  I buried my husband today.

  Since that day, her phone hadn’t stopped ringing. Friends and neighbors hadn’t stopped calling and dropping by. “How are you?” “What can we do?” “What do you need?”

  Her business partner, Sarah Reid, had been her rock, taking over the events they had scheduled for the week, returning calls Jessi didn’t have the strength to deal with.

  “You take all the time you need, hon,” Sarah had told her. “We’ve got it under control.”

  Since that day.

  “Sparrow, I need to get the oil changed in my car. Why don’t you drive to the mechanic’s and I’ll meet you there? I’ll drop you at your office, and then we can do the reverse this afternoon.”

  Jessi had waited at the mechanic’s sho
p. After an hour had passed, she’d tried his phone. A stranger had answered.

  “This is Officer Brooks. The owner of this phone has been in an accident. Are you the wife of Graham Crenshaw?”

  A police car had picked her up and driven her to the hospital. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Crenshaw. It appears your husband suffered a fatal heart attack behind the wheel of his car. When the car hit the utility pole, he was most likely already deceased.” The doctor had had an air of resigned sympathy. Jessi had wondered how many people he pronounced dead on an average day.

  Sarah had met her at the hospital and had driven her home. Jessi wasn’t sure how her own car had gotten back to the house. She’d somehow made the calls to Cara and Adam. “Something has happened. Your dad died.”

  Cara, age twenty-three, had made her excuses at her job with the Weather Channel, and had taken the first available flight from Atlanta to West Palm Beach. Adam, age twenty-one, had driven from Orlando where he worked as a video game animator.

  Jessi and the kids had gone to the funeral home the following day to see to burial arrangements. The funeral director had neatly folded his hands on top of his huge mahogany desk and smiled kindly.

  “Mrs. Crenshaw, your husband has everything prearranged. You don’t need to worry about a thing, it’s all taken care of. He has requested that he be buried in a navy suit, with a white shirt and a blue and red paisley tie. Do you know the things he means?”

  Jessi had nodded dumbly. What he’d described was her favorite suit of Graham’s. He always looked so handsome, and he’d worn it when they’d celebrated their anniversary a few months back.

  He had it all planned out. But when? Did he do it after the heart attack a few years ago? Why didn’t he mention it?

  “We’re just so sorry for your loss.” The statement shook Jessi from her thoughts, returning her to the morbid gathering in her living room. It was a neighbor couple from down the street.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, not meeting their eyes. She sipped her wine to have something to do, and wandered into the kitchen.

  “Hey, hon, how are you holding up?” Sarah asked.

  Jessi shrugged and gave a weak smile. “I’m okay.”

  “Can we get you something to eat?”

  Jessi shook her head and headed back to the living room.

  I buried my husband today.

  “Jessica. I was just chatting with your lovely daughter and son,” said Rev. Lyman. “Graham was a good man, taken before his time.” He looked at Jessi with slight reproof. “I hope we’ll be seeing you and your family on Sunday.”

  “Maybe, Reverend,” Jessi replied softly. “If you’ll excuse me and my children.”

  “Of course. Family has to pull together at a time like this.”

  They watched him work his way across the room. “I’m not lovely?” quipped Adam.

  Jessi smiled at her son. “You’re lovely to me. And you’re welcome for getting the good reverend to move along.”

  “Do you love the way Rev. Lyman tried to get in a plug for going to church?” commented Cara.

  “My personal relationship with God is exactly that. Personal,” replied Jessi. “How are you two doing?”

  “It’s hard,” said Adam, his voice breaking.

  “I know. You don’t have to stay for all of this. I have no idea when people will decide to leave.”

  “I’m here until Friday,” Cara said. “I don’t want to leave you alone to deal.”

  Jessi kissed her cheek and then Adam’s. “Thank you both. I love you so much. Your dad loved you, too.” She felt tears forming again. She felt as though she’d cried out her very soul, and yet tears were always near.

  Cara’s here until Friday. What day is it again?

  Cara and Adam moved out to find their friends. Jessi turned to look for a place to sit. She was so weary. She was stopped by a woman she vaguely recognized.

  “Jessica, I’m Harriet. From church?”

  “Oh, yes, Harriet. It was good of you to come.”

  “Sweetie, I just want to remind you that Graham is in a better place.” She beamed at Jessi, as though her words bestowed onto the new widow some sort of miracle.

  Jessi felt a twitch begin at the outer corner of her left eye. If I don’t get out of here right now, I’m going to scream.

  “If you’ll excuse me, please,” she murmured, pushing past the woman. She hurried through the kitchen, ignoring Sarah as she called to her, and slipped out the back door.

  The lanai and pool deck were blissfully quiet in the early evening twilight. The sun had set and the lights had come on automatically. She crossed to the far side of the pool, and sat on the raised edge of the spa with her back to the house. Finally alone, she leaned forward with her elbows on her thighs and let the tears flow.

  She’d only been there a few minutes when she heard a sound, the soft scuff of a leather shoe against the brick pavers. She sat up abruptly and whirled around.

  “I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to bother you.” The man was tall and muscular, his dark hair in short waves framing a handsome face, his dark suit cut slim. Large brown eyes were soft and sympathetic.

  Jessi sniffed and stood, swiping at the tears on her cheeks. “I just needed some air. I buried my husband today.” She looked up at him, shocked. “That’s the first time I said that out loud.”

  He smiled kindly. “I’ll leave you alone. I just wanted to say that Graham was a good man. He was my friend and I’ll miss him.”

  “Thank you. Did you work with him?”

  “No. We were friends. I’m Judd, by the way.”

  Jessi nodded. “Thank you for coming, Judd. I’m sure he would have appreciated it.” She began walking back towards the house. Judd fell into step beside her.

  “I thought maybe I would come back on Saturday, maybe help you with the lawn,” he said.

  Jessi was only half-listening, wondering if Harriet had gotten the hell out of her house yet. “Mm-hmm,” she murmured.

  “Alright, Jessi,” he said. “Take care, now.”

  She nodded and went to find her children.

  Chapter 2

  Judd Farris scanned the room uncomfortably. He didn’t belong here, not really. The truth was, he had been friends with Graham Crenshaw. Good friends. But Graham was his only connection to this gathering, and Graham was dead.

  Judd had attended the funeral at the church, and then the burial out at the cemetery. There’d been no need to follow up with the gathering at the Crenshaw home. But he’d been asked for a favor, and he hadn’t yet completed it. There hadn’t been opportunity at either the funeral or the burial. Maybe he could find a moment here.

  He took a glass of wine from a buffet table in the dining room simply to have something to do with his hands, then made his way to a vacant spot by the wall in the living room. His position on the edge of the crowd afforded him a perfect place from which to people-watch.

  He’d spotted Jessi in her simple black dress from the moment he’d entered the house. She was hard to miss with her bright auburn hair, her air of tragedy. Of course, he’d seen her at the other two places as well, but not up close. There were dark circles under her green eyes, and she looked thin and drawn, not unexpected under the circumstances. But she was pretty, too, in an unassuming kind of way.

  Take care of Jessi for me.

  Graham’s words echoed through his mind. He’d met Graham a few years earlier, and they’d struck up an odd friendship. Graham was a good twenty years Judd’s senior. Maybe that was why they’d clicked. Judd had looked to Graham as a mentor, and the two had met for coffee about once a month. The last time they’d gotten together, nearly three weeks earlier, the older man had seemed preoccupied.

  If something should happen to me, please take care of Jessi for me. She’ll be lost at first.

  At the time, Judd had noticed that Graham seemed to have lost a little weight, and he was perhaps a bit pale. Judd had promised that in the unlikely event something should happen, of cours
e he’d be honored to look after Jessi, see that she got her feet under her. Before they parted that last time, Graham had given him two envelopes. One was labeled with Judd’s name. On the other one, he’d written For Sparrow.

  Open yours if something happens to me. The other one, you should give to Jessi. You’ll know when the time is right.

  She’s young for a widow, he mused. Graham had said she was, what, forty-five? That made her five years older than Judd, he calculated for no reason in particular. He watched as she hugged her son and daughter. They seemed close. Graham had spoken proudly of Adam and Cara, both out on their own and doing well. He knew Jessi was glad to have them here. They’d eventually have to go back to their own lives, though.

  He imagined he could feel Jessi’s envelope in the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He’d opened his immediately when he’d heard the news of Graham’s death. He’d read it over and over until he knew it by heart.

  Dear Judd,

  If you’re reading this, I must be gone. Dammit, I didn’t mean to leave this soon. It shocks the hell out of me, really. I want you to know that I appreciate your friendship. You’re a good man, and I’ve enjoyed getting to know you. Hopefully I’ve been able to pass along some things I learned the hard way.

  I respect you as a man and as a Dominant. I know that you’ve worked hard to be the best of both that you can be. That’s why I’m tapping you to be the one to look after my Sparrow for me. Jessi is a smart, strong woman, but she’s a born submissive, and although I know she’ll be stubborn, she needs a Dominant to take her in hand, at least until she finds someone. I can’t bear to think of her falling prey to some of those psycho ass-wipes out there posing as Dominants.

  The letter to her explains some of my thinking on this subject. That and a few other things. I’ll trust you to give it to her when the time is right.

  The other part of this letter is a to-do list of sorts, things that will need to be done around the house. Things Jessi will never ask anyone to do, because like I said, she’s stubborn. I’m also giving you the number to an account that I’ve set up to cover the expenses of these projects. Please don’t use your own money to fix up the house. I’d be awfully pissed off if you did.