Page 45 of The Wrangler

Keely inhaled deeply, trying to calm the rapid beat of her pulse. She wasn’t nervous because she had doubts. No, there wasn’t a single hesitation in her bones. She was nervous because this was real. Because Jesse, the man who had fought beside her, bled for her, loved her, was about to place a collar around her neck, claiming her in a way no one ever had before.

He lifted a hand, running the back of his fingers along her jaw before gripping her chin, tilting her face up to his. “Look at me, Keely.”

She met his gaze, falling into the storm of possession and devotion that burned there.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “Have been from the second you walked into my life. And tonight, I make that permanent.”

She swallowed hard, nodding once. “I’m yours.”

Jesse reached into his pocket, pulling out the collar he had chosen for her, and the moment Keely saw it, it took her breath away.

It was stunning.

A delicate chain of platinum, woven like the intricate links of a lasso, adorned with small but brilliant black diamonds nestled between the metalwork. The centerpiece, resting just at the throat, was a single, deep blue sapphire, cut into an elegant teardrop, framed by the faintest etching of western scrollwork. It was a collar designed for her—strong, refined, undeniably beautiful, but with an edge of raw power beneath the surface.

Jesse had thought of everything.

He held it up, his fingers deftly working the clasp as he stepped closer. “This isn’t just a collar,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble only she could hear. “It’s a promise. That I’ll protect you. That I’ll love you. That I’ll own every damn part of you.”

She let out a shuddering breath, her hands instinctively reaching for his, not to stop him but to feel him as he placed the cool metal against her skin.

Jesse wrapped the collar around her throat, securing it with practiced precision before brushing his thumbs along the sapphire at her throat, a silent gesture of ownership.

Keely’s body softened, a deep sense of home settling in her bones.

Hawke let out a low whistle. “Damn, that’s a hell of a piece, Bryant.”

Dawson crossed his arms, nodding in approval. “Suits her.”

Gavin chuckled. “She looks like she was born to wear it.”

Reed, however, said nothing. He studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable, then gave Jesse a slow nod. “Take care of her.”

Jesse’s grip on her chin tightened just slightly, his voice pure steel. “Always.”

The ceremony was simple. No grand speeches, no unnecessary theatrics—just the presence of the men who mattered, the weight of the moment sinking into her bones, and the man before her, claiming her in the only way that had ever mattered.

Jesse’s fingers slid into her hair, tugging just enough to make her eyes flutter shut. “Say it, Keely.”

She breathed out, letting the last of her resistance go. “I’m yours.”

He kissed her, stealing her breath and sealing the vow already written in their bones. And as the others raised their glasses, as her brother silently accepted what had always been inevitable, Keely knew—this was just the beginning.

She had expected him to be stiff when they walked into the club, maybe even a little reluctant, but the second they stepped inside, he owned the space—literally and figuratively. His presence was undeniable, a walking storm of dominance and confidence. The club noticed, too. He was already wearing his leathers. She’d dressed at home as well, wrapping a coat around her for the trip from the house to the club.

Once inside the Iron Spur, conversations stalled as Jesse took her coat, revealing her blue corset with a black lace overlay and matching thong. Submissives stole glances his way. Keely could feel the curiosity burning in the air—because everyone in this place knew Jesse. He’d been a part of this world for years, but he’d claimed no one. Until now.

Keely swallowed hard, her pulse hammering as Jesse’s hand settled low on her back, guiding her forward. People watched,and Jesse grinned.Possessive sonofabitch.He led her straight to the bar, his fingers trailing along her spine as he ordered a drink.

“Something for you, darlin’?” he asked, his voice rough against her ear.

Keely barely heard him. She was focused too intently on how people looked at them—or how Jesse practically dared them to look. But when one man, a Dom she vaguely recognized, let his eyes linger too long, Jesse moved.

Keely let out a startled gasp as he spun her on the barstool, dragging her between his legs.

The club stilled.

Jesse gripped her chin, forcing her to look up at him. “You wanted to be here, didn’t you darlin’?”

---