Blurb: Terci’s success as a BDSM romance author is not mirrored in her relationships. Maybe what she wants is what she writes. And maybe Madame Eve can give her a night to find out if that’s true with the Domme of her dreams.
Author Mariana Martin, aka Mistress K, has received a 1Night Stand as a gift from her agent, but she fears a convention might not be the best place to play. She keeps her life as a Domme separate from her public career. What if her secret is exposed? But she can’t say no to Terci, even if Mariana can’t let the sexy blonde find out who she really is.
Excerpt: To my lovely companion for the evening,
I have one simple request…before I enter, don this blindfold and await my pleasure. And yours.
Terci read it again, aloud, but the words didn’t change. Mistress K, here, at the hotel. In Canada? Didn’t she live in the US somewhere? But she could live in Ottawa or Timbuktu for all the information she’d offered. The woman protected her privacy with vehemence, making it clear from their first conversation that if Terci pushed for personal information, she’d never speak with her again.
Terci had never been so reticent. She’d not only asked questions about the lifestyle, but, during some of their late-night, online chats, she’d shared her own fantasies in great detail. Arching her back, she recalled some of the things she’d told a woman she thought she’d never meet.
And now she’d meet her blindfolded, unable to see her!
A soft click filtered in from the living room, and she shot upright, hands gripping the tub’s rounded edges, foam dripping from her shoulders. Another click—the door closing?—and someone moved across the tile foyer. Then a hush. Her heart thudded. Mistress K?
5.0 out of 5 stars A fairy tale for authors March 19, 2015
By Anastasia Vitsky
Kate Richards has a talent for infuriating her readers. I say “talent” because this speaks to her ability to make readers care about her characters, become invested, and scowl when these beloved characters do not get the ending we want. In this case, the denouement is too quick and we are left wanting more.
As to the story itself, Richards brings her classic sense of humor (who else would open a romance with a discussion of re-attaching a severed toe?) and combines it with a rich interplay of fantasy, fairy tale, and dreams come true. Wouldn’t we all like to be Terci Angel, rising star in our profession and hand-picked for mentorship by our idol? Mariana, as the mysterious Mistress K, is a dream come true of a nurturing, humble, and selfless disciplinarian. Through her eyes, we see Terci as “the little author” who deserves the best, and we cheer (perhaps with some envy) when she receives it.
Two highlights of this story include the bathtub scene and the dream sequence. I can’t say more without spoiling the story, but they are moments to savor. Richards is past mistress (pun intended) at her craft, and she combines humor and soul with technical proficiency–to great effect. As to my favorite humorous moments, look for references to “crap on a cracker” and “Marco Polo.”
A special nod to Phil, the hapless would-be agent who steals every scene he’s in. Phil deserves a story of his own, with perhaps a Mistress K to guide him in his quest for professional achievement.
Terci in Chains is a treat to be savored by any fan of kink, F/F, and/or exquisite writing.
3/18/16 by Steven
Also by Kate Richards
Finally, My Love
Demons Love Cinnamon
Christmas Afternoon Delight
The Vampire’s Bard
Pirate Lady Holiday
Spanking Ms. Whitman
Switch, The Trainer
Confessions From the Carnivore Club, Dave and Nancy’s Story
Sensual Delights A Cookie Club Romance
The Duchess’s Handmaiden (Coming Soon)
Stories published at Decadent Publishing
One Night on the Beach
Avalon for Christmas
The Virgin and the Playboy
The Virgin and the Best Man
Two Men and a Virgin
Virgin Under Ground
Gale Force Passion
Trail of Hearts
The Milkman Cometh
Madame Eve’s Gift
Lily in Chains
An Apple Away
The One That Almost Got Away (Coming Soon)
Agent in Chains (Coming Soon)
At Beachwalk Press
It’s Just Love
At Blushing Books
Kimmy, Love’s Reprise Anthology
For Ben – Corbin’s Bend Series
From Champagne Books:
From Fated Desires:
All’s Fair (Coming Soon)
I admit it…I think camping love is the sexiest there is. Give me a starry sky or a heavy golden moon hanging overhead…a campfire shooting sparks into the cool air and a couple of sleeping bags zipped together and I’m yours…well, my sweetie’s, anyway…to do with as he will. And I try to write most of my stories in places that I can imagine having a romantic time in, like the mountains or a secluded island. Sierra Seduction is free this weekend, here
And it actually is here
This picture was taken for me where the story takes place so that I could use it for the cover!
I am interested in the locations you, the reader and my fellow authors find most romantic. I will take all the names from comments this weekend, shake them up in a big straw hat and draw one and I will write a short that takes place in that commenter’s dream location…and send her (or him, I am not prejudiced) a $25.00 Amazon gift card!
Ready, set, show me the romance!
And don’t forget to pick up your copy of Sierra Seduction, free…but only through Sunday!
Last spring I was invited to participate in the School’s in Session Box Set with several authors I admire greatly…so I was thrilled! But I am only now finding time to read and enjoy my co-author’s contributions. Laying Down the Law captured my imagination immediately. The chemistry between the hero and heroine is immediate, a spark to a flame, and it has a fun and engrossing plot that had me carrying my kindle around the house, not wanting to put it down. I think oyou’ll agree that Ali and Griff are a formidable pairing.
Blurb: Newly divorced and returning to law school after a twenty year absence, Ali Stewart has just one class to complete before sitting for the bar exam, becoming a lawyer and moving on with her life. She feels out of place with her much younger classmates, but she’s determined to succeed and put her ex-husband far in the past.
When she is paired with Griff for the semester, she learns that he even though he is much younger, there is much he can teach her, in and out of the classroom.
Laying Down The Law is an erotic romance which includes spanking, anal sex and graphic sex.
Griff knelt between her legs rubbing his thumbs up and down the insides of her thighs. Quivers racked her body and her legs bounced gently against the mattress. Unrelenting, he stroked higher and touched the edge of her panties, then moved back to her thigh. The next time he teased about an inch inside her lingerie and then back. The third time he came close she clamped her legs around his hand. “Please don’t stop,” she begged, reaching for the waistband of her panties and tugging them downward.
“Oh no, Missy. That’s my job.” He gave a tug to her panties and they tore away easily. “I’m in charge here. Your job is to enjoy.”
“And if I don’t?” She wiggled her hips against him and wondered at her own sauciness.
He tweaked her clit. “I will have to find you in contempt.”
The nerve endings in her pussy were on heightened alert, but the added pressure on her clit sent everything into sensation overdrive.
“Oh…oh,” she said, then covered her mouth.
Griff pulled her hand away, kissed her lips then probed her mouth with his tongue. He pulled back and looked directly into her eyes. “There will be no stifling yourself. Do I make myself clear?”
His finger found the nub of her clit again and pinched it until she rolled her head from side to side panting, “Yes, oh god yes”.
“That’s my girl.” His warm breath in her ear sent more shivers through her body. Was there any nerve ending left that wasn’t on the verge of combustion?
His lips moved down the length of her body pleasuring first one taut nipple and then the other before moving slowly to lay a trail of kisses from her navel to the edge of the curls of her mound. All the while his fingers continued to explore the depths of her pussy. With an expertise born of vast experience, he slipped his hand behind her and unhooked her bra while still using the other hand to churn the juices of her sex.
Where her bra went she neither knew nor cared. His mouth covered one aching tit and she arched her body closer to his pleasuring mouth.
Laying down the law is available at Amazon.com or you can treat yourself to the entire box set, School’s in Session and save 50%!
Val Epstein sank onto a granite outcropping and dropped his heavy pack next to him with a grunt. He’d climbed to the heights where patches of glacial ice remained even on a late summer afternoon, and where few hikers ventured. Instead of peace, his visit to the Sierra Nevadas brought a rush of memories and physical longing. But what had he expected? He rubbed at his cock, hardening in his shorts. Around every corner below the tree line, he’d half expected her to appear, flirting, toying with him, full of youthful sensuality and offering a gift he hadn’t had the courage to accept. Not then. So many years later he’d fall to his knees and beg for her touch.
He’d planned this journey to try to make some sense of a life that no longer offered the satisfaction it once had. But the memories of the woman he’d never been able to banish from his mind held his focus. The past distracted him from decisions about his future.
He squeezed a blob of sunscreen into his palm and the tropical scent revived an ache that never quite went away, lived deep in his bones, brought on a raging hard on every time he thought of her sparkling blue eyes and small, luscious tits. He’d broken into a cold sweat every time she held her ponytail aside so he could rub lotion into the back of her neck.
She’d be laughing at him. As she had when he chased her, offering to apply another layer of the cream one late summer afternoon thirty-five years before. Trying to get a peek into her shirt.
Her reddish-brown curls bobbed behind her as she raced ahead of him up the trail, that afternoon thirty-five years before, the sweet curves of her ass caressed by her worn cutoffs, long, tanned legs flying. She’d danced over the high, steep crags like she belonged there, which, of course, she did.
Each tree, rock, side trail held these images as if projected on the High Sierra itself. Gazing out over the view of the treetops below, from his perch where patches of glacier ice remained all summer and few hikers ventured, he pulled out his rock-hard dick. Closing his fist around it, Val began the slow stroking from root to tip that would ease his craving for a few moments. As he gripped his shaft the scene replayed as if it had been yesterday.
“Slow down, Mickie!” He cast a worried glance at the sun, already touching the top of the highest peaks. “I give up.”
She sped on, her laughter drifting back to him. “Catch me.”
Even at twenty, in excellent condition from his summer job building trails, he couldn’t keep up with her. But, determined to try, he increased his pace. The round curve of Mickie’s sweet ass disappeared from his view and he fought panic. What if she got lost? Even in the first week of September, the nights at ten thousand feet and more above sea level dipped into the twenties…or the teens. Unlike him, she didn’t ever carry any supplies when they hiked. Just a canteen tied to her belt. She acted as if the mountains held no dangers at all. Called him “Scout,” for being always prepared. His own pack slowed him down, which meant it would take him that much longer to get his hands on her. The impractical girl had led him a merry chase from June until the beginning of September.
She could die in these mountains on her own. Why didn’t she understand that? His heart thudded in his ears from the altitude or panic or both.
Driven to save her from her own foolishness, he charged around a corner in the path and crashed into her, sending them both flying to the ground. To prevent his greater mass from crushing her, he caught himself on his hands, stinging gravel digging into his palms. Her ass butted against his cock, which leapt to attention, nudging the crack of her denim-covered butt. Val stifled a groan when she bucked back against him, unaware she played with fire—or stoking the flames?
Shrugging the straps of his pack from his shoulders, he dropped it to the ground.
She shoved her ass against his groin again, and he jerked. “Dammit, Val-iant. Watch where you’re going.”
“Don’t call me that! You know I hate it.”
“It’s your name…Valiant.” Dropping flat on the ground, she rolled to her back.
Her breasts rose and fell with her panting breaths, nipples poking against the soft cotton of her T-shirt. She’d flirted the whole summer, teasing him without mercy, but he’d pretended not to notice. Mickie belonged in the California mountains and he’d be back on the East Coast soon. Beginning grad school. His focus couldn’t be anywhere but on his career. He ran from the choices made by his hippie mother. Eighteen years of commune dwelling cured him of the lifestyle. Success in business first, a personal life second.
But her flushed cheeks and wet lips drove him on. Her cherry-flavored gloss melted away. His dick bulged in his shorts and he licked the seam of her lips, urging her to open for his questing tongue.
“I prefer Scout.” Mickie met his with hers, sweet and tentative but so seductive he lost what little sense he had left, his rock hard cock doing most of his thinking for him. He’d worked his hands under her T-shirt—her lack of a bra—ever—had not escaped him. Lifting the garment over her head, he choked at the sight. Sweet pale globes topped with cherry red nipples. “Oh, Mickie.”
“They’re small,” she said.
“They’re perfect.” Mouth watering, he buried his face between her tits, closing his eyes and breathing in the soft scent of lavender and the coconut sunscreen from earlier. “I want to taste them.”
She shivered and tangled her fingers in his hair. “Go ahead.”
Val turned his head and blinked his eyes open. Cupping her breast, he licked his lips and closed them around her nipple. He laved the areola, taking in the bumpy texture, the salt of her sweat, and his cock surged against his fly.
When she made no protest, he sucked her nipple into his mouth, rewarded by a low moan. He moved to the other side and repeated his actions, loving her whimpers, her shaking limbs. Pinching the first tight bud between two fingers, he played with them both. She held his head to her chest, pulling his hair in her zeal.
Val couldn’t hold back anymore, about to shoot his wad in his shorts. He released her breast. “I want…I want to—”
She let go of him and pushed him back, grabbing at his shorts, pulling the zipper down and Hallelujah! He just hoped he didn’t come in her hand. That would be damned embarrassing. He just had to hold out long enough to get into her pussy. Then they heard it.
“Oh no!” Shoving him away, Mickie scrambled to her feet. “Quick, where’s my top?” She took it from him, dragged it over her head and leaped to her feet.
As he struggled with his zipper, trying to remember who and where he was, a troop of little girls from the camp ambled around that same blind corner.
“Oh look, it’s Michaela!”
“And her friend that trail guy.”
What the hell were all these kids doing way up here?
The girls surrounded them. They carried packs hung with sleeping bags and were so excited, they didn’t seem to notice anything odd, just happy to see people they knew along the way. They chattered on about heading toward a campsite where some of the staff waited with fun activities planned.
The last one to arrive was their counselor.
Unlike Mickie who worked as a cook at the camp for inner city kids, and Val who built trails for the camp to earn money to supplement his scholarships and student loans, wealthy Julia volunteered her time. She had explained how good this would look on her résumé. Charity work always did.
Well groomed at all times, she never seemed to break a sweat. Her crisp, unwrinkled Camp Freshair polo clung to her high breasts and trim waist as if tailored for her. With her money, it probably was. Her dark, shoulder length hair danced in a perky ponytail in cadence with her words when she spoke.
“Hello, Michaela, Val.” One dark sculpted brow rose. “And what brings you two up here on this lovely afternoon. Isn’t it about time to start cooking dinner, Michaela?”
Mickie’s cheeks burned red, but she held the rich girl’s gaze. “It’s my day off, but thank you for your concern.” Spinning on a heel, she started back the way they came. “I think I’m done here for now. Coming, Scout?” She marched away while he stared after her.
“Yes, Scout…were you coming?” Julia’s gaze drifted to the front of his shorts.
He fought the urge to cover himself, cheeks heating. “Leaving, yes.” He hurried after Mickie, the moment broken but his twenty-year-old hormones in raging awareness. It only took a moment to catch up to her below the tree line and fall into step at her side.
“I hate her.” Mickie walked faster, a twig snapping under her feet like a firecracker in the quiet forest. “She knew too…and she’ll tell everyone, ruin everything.”
“What can she tell?” he asked. “She didn’t see anything.”
Mickie snorted, her back straight in her march downhill, her boobs proudly leading the way. “She saw everything. Don’t kid yourself. Or, at least, she figured it out.”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tugged her closer to his side. “Who cares what she thinks anyway.”
She softened, resting against him. “Not me.” They walked on for a while, in silence, the scent of pine trees and sage tickling his nose. “Scout?”
“The summer is almost over.”
“And you’ll be going home, three thousand miles away in a few weeks.” Resting a hand on his arm, she stopped and faced him. “Before you go, I want to do it with you.”
His head spun as all the blood ran south at the image of that creamy flesh beneath him, her pussy clenching around his dick when he drove her to orgasm. If he took that step with her, it would mean more. Even with his cock bobbing in agreement with her idea, insisting he take her into the bushes that moment and fuck her, his brain managed to sort out something it hadn’t before. This was not a woman to screw and leave. Not like the easy girls at school who went from dorm room to dorm room. “Mickie, I can’t do that and just leave.” He was already dreading leaving her—
“Sure you can. I want you to be my first.”
At this point in the fantasy, he always changed it. Said yes. His clenching fist tightened on his cock, friction and the image in his mind driving him toward orgasm. Her parted legs inviting him to be her first, to fuck her into oblivion. To hear her cry out “Yes!” He spurted into his hand, white cum dripping between his fingers, and he sagged back onto the rock and wiped his hand and his dick on the bandana tucked in his belt. He’d need to rinse it out first chance he got.
A movement below captured his eyes and he rustled in his pack for binoculars. A hiker appeared on a trail above the lake. Long legged, fairly slim, but not the ghost of his nineteen-year-old Michaela. He watched the gap in the treetops to see who followed her, but the woman seemed to be alone. Even up here, where crime was a rarity, plenty of other dangers existed— bears and cougars, avalanches and sudden storms—and he didn’t like to see any woman alone. The binoculars made him feel like a peeping Tom, but he couldn’t seem to look away. The woman he worried about had long, . tanned limbs that drew his admiring gaze. Her curly hair stuck out of the back of the baseball cap she wore, hanging down her back in a gray-streaked auburn ponytail.
How idiotic. Some of his friends had girlfriends half their age, all enhanced tits and tight asses, but he’d never gone in for that. Midlife crises were for fat, balding guys who didn’t care about anything but their dicks and had to take something to make them usable. He’d chosen to lavish his passion on the mountains, conquering them instead of silly twenty-somethings. But that didn’t make his dick any less rigid.
He’d never had to worry about little blue pills. Thank god.
His dick hardened at the mere memory of the girl he’d met the summer between college and grad school. But he hadn’t counted on a lifetime passion for the mountains that had him adding the top peaks to his 100 North American Peaks checklist until only McKinley remained—the tallest in the lower 48 states and the one in the Sierras, the range that reminded him of her. As his marriage fell apart, his love of the outdoors grew until it replaced sex and intimacy. He understood conquest, the thrill of standing on a peak and surveying the land far below. Of making business deals involving hundreds of millions of dollars. But he’d failed at Relationships 101.
The woman below him disappeared from view around a bend and he leaned back, allowing the sun-warmed stone to ease the tight muscles in his lower back while the cool, late afternoon breeze dried the perspiration on his face. He cleaned up and tucked his dick back in his pants.
Biting into an apple from his pack, he savored the sweet crunch. Everything tasted better up here, a simple fruit better than the gourmet lunches he shared with clients. Tomorrow, he’d be on a plane back to the East Coast and another six months of seventy-hour workweeks before he could break away again. Wouldn’t it be nice if he had a companion for his trips? A soft, willing body to warm his blood on cold nights.
But then he was used to hiking alone. He only hiked with her in his dreams.
Michaela Vanz shifted her pack higher on her shoulders and tilted her phone forward and back, fighting the urge to toss the useless thing over the cliff edge. Disgust colored her mood. Nobody depended on GPS to find their way this high in the backcountry. At least nobody who wanted to find her way back in one piece. Nobody who knew better.
And Miss Michaela knew better.
She didn’t get to fifty-four, hiking the mighty Sierras and many of the other great ranges of the world, without being smarter than her current behavior indicated. Of course she’d always been the camp cook, able to make a gourmet meal out of a handful of freeze-dried ingredients and some wildcrafted herbs. Silas, may he rest in peace, had been in charge of maps and location. Six months on her own hadn’t improved her abilities to navigate her way out of a paper bag.
And she’d avoided this particular area for a long time, unsure of why she approached it today. Trail of unfulfilled needs and heartache.
She glanced at the lowering sun. Another hour of light before it sank behind the frosted peaks and, once it did, the temperature would plummet. Not that she couldn’t keep warm, but she’d planned to return to her car by evening and was running pretty low on food. Scraps of beef jerky and one small apple wouldn’t do much to keep her company on an early September evening. A photo shoot location search shouldn’t have led to her being lost in the backcountry. Not with the hundreds, maybe thousands of hours she’d spent in the High Sierra. But not very many alone.
She’d managed to make it through the summer by sticking to existing trails. Her moderate successes had made her overconfident. But a memory of a particular one path drew her, maybe her loneliness added to the desire. Also she’d heard of a lake deep in the mountains that sounded like a perfect backdrop for her latest photo shoot.
She’d promised Silas, sort-of, to try to find a new hiking companion, but hadn’t made the effort. They’d been partners for over thirty years; who could replace him? Most of the mountaineers she knew were so much younger, she didn’t get their campfire humor or know any of the songs she liked to sing and that took the fun out of the whole thing. That and the fact that she had this naughty love of camping sex. Some happy-go-lucky kids were not her choice for “hiking companions.” Maybe she could sign up for some matchmaking site.
Fifty-four year old photographer seeks hot alpha hiker for long nights in the mountain fucking our brains out. Limp dicks need not apply.
Did Val still hike? Did he ever think of her, with fondness or regret? Lust?
The shadows lengthened, covering the trail ahead of her as she descended toward the lake—well, a lake. Whether the one she sought or another of the many other jewels scattered throughout the Sierras, this side of the glacier, she couldn’t be sure until she got closer. Everything in her demanded she stop, set up camp, and ensure she didn’t freeze during the night. If the glimmer of sunlight on the breeze-ripped whitecaps represented the wrong body of water, heading into the valley, where cold air lay stagnant, she could be sealing her fate.
Drama! Of course she’d be nervous when she rarely overnighted alone…having someone at her side made her feel safer, more able to handle a crisis. She stumbled over a tree root at the edge of the path and cursed. If she’d fallen and hit her head, she could have bled to death and nobody would have known—since she’d have been dragged off by wild beasts and devoured.
Twenty years from now, thirty maybe, someone hiking through here would find her white, polished skull, a lurid testament to what the bears like for dinner. Shreds of worn fabric tangled in the branches of a tree then much taller than when she’d been murdered, maybe a faint stain of rusty red on the rock where she’d suffered her mortal injury.
They’d all be sorry…they’d…but who would?
In a fit of self-pity, Michaela sank to the rock, an innocent hunk of granite holding no bloodstains whatsoever. Truth was nobody would miss her. Oh, her assistant might be a little sad and she had some dear friends, but nobody who would be heartbroken, whose life would be left with a gaping hole if she never returned from her foolish journey. Sometimes she missed Silas a lot. With him at her side, she’d never worried about anything.
But not as much as…well, no point in trying to relive a past so long ago she’d no doubt changed the details to suit her. And Silas had been a great and noble companion, trailing her on her adventures without complaint, even if their relationship had been best friends first, lovers second. But why was his face not the most vivid in her imagination as she knelt to brush aside some branches and twigs and make a place to spread her bedroll?
How many years could she hold the visage close to her heart…the face of a man who left her before they even had the chance to find out if they had a future together? Who’d rejected her offer in such a brusque way?
Michaela hung her pack on a high branch about fifteen feet away from her camp spot, then moved back, unzipped the bag, and slipped inside, removing her shoes once she’d closed it around her. She’d be warm enough and, with her pack out of easy reach and not right next to her, she’d be less likely to attract wild animals.
Fires were a no go at this season, too easy to start a wildfire, but it wouldn’t be her first night without one.
As she fell toward sleep, her imagination conjured him there with her. Not Silas, but her old crush. Odd but she could still remember his arms tight around her, how masculine and enticing he smelled when she buried her nose in his neck. How exciting when she’d first felt his rock-hard appendage pressing against her belly. And her ass.
She remembered everything.
But he wouldn’t remember. She’d made an ass of herself, and probably a cock-tease for an entire summer, throwing herself at him in the awkward way of an untried nineteen year old, and he’d never taken her up on it. He couldn’t have made his disinterest—barring of course the natural reaction of a healthy male to a girl in his arms—any more clear.
He’d married that bitch Julia. She’d learned that from an old camp friend, but asked not to be told any more. Her imagination was cruel enough.. They’d probably had several children, each as beautiful as the one before. While she scrambled over scree slopes, laden with camera equipment, he’d be having dinner at his country club, hitting a tiny ball on a manicured verdant course, attending the local philharmonic with his wife decked out in jewels and furs.
Shoving the thought of anyone else in his life aside, she snuggled into the sleeping bag. Her fingers moved under the waistband of her pants and into her panties, wet even now with the memory of the hard-bodied guy she’d craved. Stroking through the silky cream, she let one digit slip inside and moaned. The same fantasy, embellished over the years….
“Come on, what are we waiting for?” Michaela snuggled close to his warmth, wishing she could stay there forever. “You’re flying out, who knows if we’ll ever even see each other again.” She played her fingers down the warm curve of his neck and over his chest. One chance to get him into her wet panties, to learn what it would feel like to have him inside her. Would it hurt, like some of the girls claimed? Val wouldn’t want to hurt her, but if that was the only way?
But after that, him pulsing inside her. Filling her, stretching her.
Val rested his cheek on the top of her head and sighed. “I don’t want our first time to be our last.”
“Let tomorrow take care of itself. You’ll be back, won’t you?” Her heart beat in her throat. “Next summer. Or are you saying tonight is it…no matter what?” Why did it hurt so much? She struggled to pull away, but he tightened his arms.
“I never said that. You know I care for you, Mickie.” Nobody else got away with calling her that. Like she was a mouse or something. It was bad enough to have a boy’s name.
She tried again, pressing kisses against his warm chest, bare where she’d managed to slip a few buttons from their holes, and thrust her breasts against him, hoping her hard nipples would entice him to lick her there again. Her fingers rubbed the hard ridge tenting his pants. “Then why don’t you want to…to do it with me? You don’t want me that way, don’t think I’m enough woman for you.”
He chuckled, his skin vibrating under her cheek. “I think you’re enough woman for anyone. I don’t want to start something we can’t finish.” As she parted her lips to protest, he continued. “I don’t even have any protection with me. What if you got pregnant?”
“I don’t see a downside to having your child. Aren’t we going to be together anyway?”
Now he struggled, managing to leave a few inches between them in the down bag. As if she might get pregnant from cuddling. “I’m just starting my master’s program. Then at least five years of career building before I can even consider marriage and a family, Mickie. If you got pregnant, it would be a disaster!”
Up to the disaster comment they weren’t in trouble, but the moment that evil word passed his lips, she made use of the space between them to punch him in the gut. Hard.
“I’m so sorry the idea of my having your baby is comparable to the Titanic. Let me out of here.” Michaela jerked the zipper down and struggled to her feet, reaching back into the bottom of the bag to fetch her boots.
She laced them sitting on the ground, the cold air chilling her to the bone and making her nipples ache almost as much as her heart. Sobs shook her shoulders and her heart broke.
So Julia told the truth. “You have big plans, Val, and I don’t fit into them. You won’t even make love with me one time before you leave.”
I can’t believe he’d rather fuck that frigid rich bitch than me. Can’t he see how much I care for him?
“Julia is probably a better fit for you anyway.”
Shut up! Shut up! Don’t throw him at her.
But hurt pride filled her mouth with stupid words. “I am sure her daddy’s connections will be what you need to make those five years count. Of course, once you’re married you won’t have to ever worry about career problems, will you?”
She’d fled down the trail toward the distant lights of the camp, too upset to care if she ever saw him again. So independent at that age. All black or white, no shades of gray.
No stopping to wait for explanations.
All or nothing.
No matter how wet he made her, how needy, she’d find a way to live without him. She’d never see him again.
Shaking off the past, Michaela pulled her head into the bag and prepared to wait out the darkness. She’d gotten good at wishing. Wishing for Val to realize his mistake before it was too late, for her career as a photographer to take off, for the pregnancy that Val considered a disaster but Silas longed for, for morning. At least half those things were guarantees.
You may find the rest of Sierra Seduction Here
Have a wonderful weekend!
Hi to everyone back at the office!
I just wanted to take a moment and send a thanks for your kind wishes for our new life here in beautiful Corbin’s Bend, Colorado. A very …unusual community. The summer days are long and lazy but soon Ben will be in pre-school and I will be working hard again. Just not in the City with you.
I am doing my best to fit in, but some days are harder than others. After all, a family can only eat sandwiches and cereal for dinner so many nights before I start to worry about their health. At least we can grill outside in this beautiful weather and I’ve been practicing a few other things, like rice. Did you know that’s hard?
And I miss sushi.
Don’t tell any clients but I’m like as not in pajamas until late morning…a real benefit of working from home. Roy surprised me with a pair of red silk PJs that makes me feel glamorous…anyway TMI about the pajamas. Just picture me in a suit.
I will be flying back to New York next month for some meetings and I will be so glad to see you all! I guarantee you I will be in a suit then.
I just heard a loud “Oops” from the bathroom and I need to rush off and see what Ben has gotten into now. The little imp has an endless curiosity. And he’s smarter than me.
But don’t worry, I’ve got my clients under control. I’m not completely domesticated yet.
For Ben is available here
For Ben is now available here
Of course Corbin’s Bend is a spanking community, but also one of loving couples who aren’t afraid to indulge in pleasure…so, as promised, here’s Teri and Roy, peek in but sshhh, they’re busy!
They were worth fighting for. But he couldn’t do it unless they had some time together. More than a stolen hour, which often ended with either an argument or a pair of exhausted people asleep before they even got undressed. Dammit, they needed the two weeks they’d scheduled.
But even if she refused, he’d use the evening to make a lasting memory. Grasping her hips, he dragged her and the heap of pillows closer to the edge of the bed and lifted her rump higher, exposing her swollen pussy. A droplet of moisture clung to her thigh and he bent to lap it up. Heat burned his cheek from her well-spanked leg and he pressed his lips to the handprint, cherishing his mark on her skin.
Teri moaned and, anxious to amp up the mood, he buried his face in her cunt, licking and sucking and drinking in her sweetness. How long had it been since he’d eaten her out? Her thrashing fed his passion and he rested a hand on her butt cheek, where raised prints marked her. His handprints. He’d love to spank a little more, but he didn’t want to cause her any harm.
Maybe on their vacation. He could bring along a few things and add to the fun. A hair brush, wooden spoon…his cock jerked.
He lifted his face, smiling when she groaned in protest
“Sweetheart,” he announced, “we are going on our trip.”
“No, I…oh, God.”
He sucked on her clit, holding it between his teeth with just enough pressure to send her to the moon and back. Teri bucked against him and he stopped again. “Wrong answer.” Pinning her knees to the mattress, Roy held her in place, to give her time to think. “Well?”
He licked her, from front to back, and added a soft slap to her backside.
He tweaked her clit with two fingers and applied pressure. “Teri, this is an important decision. I suggest you think carefully because I won’t ask again.” Lifting his hand, he waited.
“You aren’t playing fair.” She panted and reached back, pushing at his head, but he held firm. Her musk drove him mad, made it crazy difficult to hold still, but he played for life. For their life together. “Okay, fine. I will make it work. If it’s so important to you.”
Today I offer you a little something from Switch, The Trainer Book 1, which is free at Amazon.com today and tomorrow to help warm you up in this cold cold winter! 🙂
“Esme, please hold your hands out in front of you.” She did, and watched with fascination as he bound her wrists together, forming multiple complex knots with the smooth rope. “A little shibari, Japanese rope tying. A hobby of mine. I can never just do a simple square knot. But the main purpose is to keep you from getting hurt. Remember, I told you how delicate the hands can be.”
“Y-yes.” She’d never seen anything as sexy in her life. Would Rick like a new hobby? Her breath shortened and her pussy clenched.
She focused on the thick pile of the carpet in front of her, cream and beige, soft under her fingers, but if she were to lie on her back there, with a freshly spanked ass, to take Rick’s cock inside her, what would that feel like?
The trainer dragged her panties to her knees, leaving them there—another layer of bondage.
All concerns about her lack of kink faded as a trickle of moisture tickled the top of her thigh.
“We’ll begin with ten. Count them off. Rick, pay close attention.”
Smack. On her right cheek. “Oww…one.” Red flared across her vision, and she tensed her fingers, bracing for the next.
Smack. “Two.” Her left side stung.
I confess, I am a fallen vegetarian. I have been one at various times in my life, and I do believe it would be better for a whole list of reasons, but I cook for a household of carnivores, am married to a man who considers veggies something specifically put on the planet for me to nag him to eat…and I actually like meat a lot. But I buy as much organic, non-antibiotic, grass fed beef as I can, try not to waste, and keep the junk food in the house to a minimun.
We also belong to a CSA, Community Sponsored Agrigulture. Once per week we receive a large box of locally grown fruits and veggies. Becuase we are in SoCal, this is year round. However, in winter it’s not what my family necessarily considers ‘food.’ Lots of dark greens and squash, and I have to admit on occasion stuff gets away from me and ends up composted. But we eat most of it, and I suspect we are healthier as a result. Watermelon is for summer,strawberries are for spring, and we eat oranges and apples all winter. Just like the olden days. In this area, anyway. The veggies are fresher, last longer, and really do taste better and we have the added satisfaction of reducing our carbon footprint. Okay…nobody else in the house knows what that is, but it works just the same.
But this morning, I was getting a latte at my favorite indie coffee house (which is also locally owned and an awesome commmunity gatheriing place). While waiting for my lovely drink, with its little foam star, a man and woman came in to get a coffee. She commented that if the milk in my coffee was raw, I would be getting a really healthy drink. She also told me that wheat contains an opiate-like substance which creates a desire to eat more like marijuana does. And so on. Well…my hippie side surged forth and we had a friendly, warm, smiling competition. While her companion, a very nice man from India, watched. I don’t think anyone won, and I am pretty sure she really does eat healthy nearly all the time and didn’t have a box of mac’n cheese cups from Costco out in her car like I did…but I do feel pretty dumb when this happens. Why do I have to be hipper than thou? When fact is…I know that I have all I can do to live according to my own way of thinking, in the best way I can. I don’t have to prove myself to total strangers. I suspect it was guilt, beacause I ate a lot of Doritos last night. Maybe I can blame it on the chemicals in the nacho cheese. Maybe they contain chemicals that drive me to buy more junk food. Maybe it’s not my fault!
I’m just glad I’m still welcome at the coffee house…because if we’d come to blows over broccoli, I’d really miss the place. And I will try harder to take good care of myself,and make enough healthy food that my family is going to get some vitamins no matter how hard they try to avoid them. Okay,I think I’ll just go write the final love scene in my current work in progress, Honey Does. Because I love that better than any junk food, and those dang Doritos are still out there in the kitchen calling my name.
Just a little something to wake you up…
Paul flipped onto his stomach on the cushioned lounge. Music from the poolside bar filtered to where he sunned himself on the private terrace outside his room. Another hour remained before he was due at the end of the dock for transport to his 1Night Stand date. Arriving a day early had given him a chance to relax so he wouldn’t be exhausted, but the time had dragged.
Who would the famous matchmaker, Madame Eve, send him for his wonderful night? He’d indicated a preference for dark hair, dark eyes, and a muscular stature. His growing attraction for Rex made it impossible to deny he could find a man attractive. Fuck-worthy even.
He’d arranged a date with a Rex look-alike in hopes he could get him out of his system. See if he even liked being with a man. But the pressure around the house had grown until he needed to do something to blow off steam.
Even Andie, their other best friend from forever, didn’t hang around as often. She came over, cooked for them, and bailed. Which kind of sucked because he lusted after her, too. I’m a really fucked up friend. One day the two people he cared for most in the world would realize they should be together. Honorable, protective Rex would take care of Andie and they would be a family.
He would be the guy who came over for Thanksgiving. Uncle Paul to their kids. Hiding his feelings forever, behind his patented clowning. God. He pushed up on his forearms and sat on the edge of the lounge, head in his hands. Great pity party. But he knew he was right. So there he was, on the date of a lifetime.
About to have sex with some strange guy. The fact that the date had been set up on some offshore island, where they wouldn’t have any contact with the outside world for a full twenty-four hours, made it that much worse.
Would he even be able to get it up? The only man who’d ever made him hard was his best friend. Forcing back the despair that turned his limbs to lead, he headed for the shower. If he couldn’t expunge Rex from his system, he’d have to go home and admit his feelings. Then move. Far away. Maybe he could get a transfer to Alaska.
And leave the door open for Rex and Andie to finally get together. As it should be. As they would have by now if he wasn’t such a selfish bastard. Rex would never make a move as long as Paul hung around.
I just received a notice that it has moved up to #30…and I am so thrilled! I hope you’ll have a chance to read Two Men and tell me what you think of the story. The AllRomance Ebooks buy link is here.
Paul lifted his duffel then stared at the pink sand beach before him. “So I just wade on in?”
“Yes,” the blonde said, sliding into the water and sloshing in their direction. When she arrived at their side, the water hit her lower thighs. At his height it wouldn’t even hit his knees. “If Donny beaches the taxi, it’s a lot harder to get going again than just letting you off here. Is that okay?” She reached for the hand the pilot offered and hopped onto the deck.
“Sure, no problem.” He kicked off his deck shoes, set his bag down, and dropped in, then grabbed his things and faced shore. “But where do I go when I get on land?”
“Just head straight up the beach to the path. You can’t miss it…there’s one building on the whole island.”
He returned their waves and started toward the date that would change his life. I can’t believe I’ve committed to having sex with a man. He would find out whether that was possible. Whether he could approach Rex when he got home rather than just hint. I’ve had a crush on you for years. Want to fool around? Couldn’t sound lamer. But if this one-night stand didn’t get him out of his system, he would do it. Rex would either be horrified and throw him out on his ass or assume he made another one of his jokes.
But he’d have to be clear as the sea around the island. Provided he could follow through. And since all his previous experiences were with women, he didn’t know for sure.
He had one reason to believe Rex might be interested, and it wasn’t much to go on. How long had he watched him jack off on the couch? Hopefully all the way to the end.
Here’s a taste: “I need to ask you something first.”
His brow furrowed, but he shrugged. “Okay.”
“Does Madame Eve know the location of your secret place?” Out there in the dark, with the sprinkle of stars to light the black velvet night, the reality of proceeding blindfolded into the desert with a stranger, no matter how attractive, seemed dangerous. If the answer was no, she would ask him to turn the car around and hope she wasn’t already too late.
“Yes,” he said, in a low voice. “She insisted.” When she still clutched his arm, he smiled. “I understand caution, let me show you something.” Lukas reached over her to the center console. So close, his warmth and the clean scent of soap went to her head. Hang on, Jane. Even if he is the cutest guy you’ve ever met, and smells so good.
He retrieved his cell phone and clicked to a text message. “Look at this.”
I have confirmed the location of your date and we can schedule your evening. I hope you understand the safety of my clients is paramount, yours as well as Ms. Summers. Thank you for your cooperation. M.E.
Reassured, Jane faced away from him. “Do it, then.” She closed her eyes and tried not to flinch as the soft cloth covered her face. It tightened and then his hands dropped to her shoulders.
“Okay?” His fingers rested on her collarbones, inches from her breasts. Her eyes strained, but the several folds prevented the least bit of starlight from entering.
“I can’t see a thing.” But she could still feel his touch moving down her arms, past her short sleeves, and onto bare skin. The desert wind soughed; her heart thumped in her ears. Hyperaware of the man behind her, she waited to see what he would do next.
Yesterday I was racing through a few errands. Post office to mail off a couple of contest winner goodies, bank, grocery store…panicked to get home and try to whip through the impossible to complete list of tasks realated to my awesome and wonderful dream job.
I wanted to be a writer since at least 7th grade. And I’ve been reading and loving books since I was 4. All of a sudden at the grand old age of 53 I am almost two years into the best job I could imaagine…and almost three years published. I roll out of bed and land at work with a cup of fresh-brewed Sumatra and my slipper-clad feet up on the desk. I never ever dreamed I would be able to do this…at least before official retirement age. Yet…I have managed to add as much stress to this career as I did to the one I gladly left behind.
Why? It’s not because I am desperate for money. Although I don’t make as much as I did, my husband has a good job and is completely supportive of my endeavor. We aren’t rich but we certainly have enough for our needs. I was told never to expect to make a living in the book world of editing and writing…well, that person was a pessimist. I think it’s because I spent over 30 years on the hamster wheel and only thought I allowed myself off. That is a heck of a lot of training. Hi, I’m Kate and (no shock to those of you who know me) I am a workaholic. I took 2 days off in 2 years.I suspect with a little less nuttiness and a little more down time I will get more done anyway!
We shall see…I suspect it’s more of an attitude adjustment than anything and a little prioritizing. After all, I love writing better than chocolate but I think I’ve been approaching my new fun life like a rat fresh from the rat race and as Diane Keaton says in my favorite movie ever, Baby Boom…I think the rat race is going to have to do with one less rat. It’s not my job that’s the problem, it’s my attitude! And Mr. Marks in Spanking Ms. Whitman would know just what to do about this.
It’s always exciting to have a new release and this is my first in the Decadent Publishing series: The Edge. Sexy stories one and all, I hope mine will be a hit, too!
After months of preparation, The Edge, a series of erotic shorts has debuted at Decadent Publishing…and I even have one in the que…The Milkman Cometh!
For those who follow the 1Night Stand series, Decadent Publishing (and I) offer a free with purchase read for the holiday season. Did I mention the free part?
Christmas Eve is finally here and Nicholas Castillo’s staff has trimmed the trees and decked the halls for the Gala. All is in readiness and even Kathryn, the pilot who is responsible for ferrying in Madame’s Eve’s 1Night Stand guests to the remote hotel in Castle Alaska has hung up her wings for the holiday. Even better, she’s Nicholas’s date for the evening.
Because she lost a bet. But he’ll take a date with her any way he can get it because Nick has hopes that the Christmas spirit will help him to win over the woman he’s longed and lusted for since the first time her plane touched down outside his hotel. If only she didn’t think of him as a friend.
Kathryn wonders when Nick will take a hint. She’s even willing to put aside her comfy flying duds to don an elegant dress and stilettoes for one night if it will make him notice that she’s a woman and hopefully attractive. But in the years they’ve known one another, she’s never had the nerve to tell him she’s interested, and why would a rich, handsome hotelier, a member of the Castillo family, be interested in a woman who rarely hangs around for more than a day or two before flying off to the wilds of Alaska’s interior.. It will take a heaping dose of Christmas magic—or maybe Madame Eve’s own brand—to make this one work out!
You’re my date.”
“Only because I lost a bet.” She tossed her head and her long braid bobbed over her shoulder, with a jingle. A tiny bell on the hair tie at the bottom twinkled in the light. Looked like she did have a little Christmas spirit. He stored the knowledge away in case he could use it to his advantage. He only hoped he wouldn’t mistake a friendly gesture for an opening and ruin what they did have. “And I suppose it includes wearing that dress I spotted in the closet.”
“And the shoes.”
He stood back and watched as she left the room, her free stride making his heart lift. Beautiful, smart, and far too independent to want to settle down with a hotel manager, even if he was one of the very successful Castillos…a first cousin to Jackson and Jagger, raised in their home as a brother. His parents had insisted he have an American education and life, despite their own reluctance to leave Cuba. Funny he’d end up at the northernmost of the Castillo resorts—and every bit as much in love with its magnificent environs as his parents were with their island home.
But Kathryn was not impressed by status or money. She treated him as a friend and he tried hard to make that enough.
“Are you coming or what?” Her voice floated back to him and he shook himself and followed. No use fighting what couldn’t be changed; he would settle for watching his friend strut toward the elevator, her slim form and swaying hips making even her faded flying clothes sexy.
Did platonic buddies run their fingers through one another’s hair? Did they stroke long, silky waves back to press lips to the satin skin under their friend’s delicately curved ear? Will she wear her hair down tonight? His steps slowed as he came up behind her, hands clenched at his sides to keep from finding out what would happen if he grasped her waist and pulled her back against him.
This is the best Christmas list of books I’ve found so far! http://jennajaxon.wordpress.com/2011/12/12/12-books-of-christmas/