Blurb:
Elevator
Magic
A steamy encounter in an elevator makes Cass the center of attention for two sexy men. Is it just hot sex for them or will Cass have to make some life-changing choices?
Immortal Longings
Not one, but two Greek gods in her bed. How’s a girl to choose? Must Zoe’s sensual holiday romance end in farewell, or will she try to make her own heaven on earth with two demigods?
Eleanor’s Choice
Eleanor explores the shadowy world of submission – her marriage depends on it. Will the Master give her an experience she can use to please her husband, or is it time to walk away?
Love Bites
Lonely Ella is mesmerised by the owner of a chocolate shop. Drawn into Lang’s rich, seductive web, she grows to fear as well as desire him. What is the secret he is hiding from her?
A steamy encounter in an elevator makes Cass the center of attention for two sexy men. Is it just hot sex for them or will Cass have to make some life-changing choices?
Immortal Longings
Not one, but two Greek gods in her bed. How’s a girl to choose? Must Zoe’s sensual holiday romance end in farewell, or will she try to make her own heaven on earth with two demigods?
Eleanor’s Choice
Eleanor explores the shadowy world of submission – her marriage depends on it. Will the Master give her an experience she can use to please her husband, or is it time to walk away?
Love Bites
Lonely Ella is mesmerised by the owner of a chocolate shop. Drawn into Lang’s rich, seductive web, she grows to fear as well as desire him. What is the secret he is hiding from her?
These
four short stories contain too-hot-to-handle Greek gods, a sexy
Vampire who might just turn out to be a killer, a Master who can
wield a crop with artistry, and two delicious CEOs who know how to
keep a woman happy. Oh, and chocolate, BDSM, MFM Mènage and sex in
an elevator.
Excerpt:
ELEVATOR MAGIC
“You know what?
You can take your job and stick it.” Mad as hell I grabbed my purse
and stomped out of the little cubicle I called my office. I was done
here and I was never coming back and fuck the giving notice part.
The elevator always
took ages to creak its way between floors and I could feel the
stabbing pressure of what felt like a thousand eyes in my back. Of
course they were all watching. They’d been waiting for something
like this to happen for twenty months. Just then melodic chimes
signaled the arrival of the executive elevator. The one that normal
people like me are forbidden to ride in, the one for the exalted rich
and the bosses who live in the penthouse. I wanted to escape the avid
looks that were directed my way and, what the hell, what could they
do anyway? Sack me?
So I stepped into
it.
I turned and, just
before the doors closed, got a good view of open mouths, staring eyes
and was that…envy? It certainly looked like it from where I was
standing. As the doors slid silently shut, I raised my hand and gave
a little finger wave.
The car was bigger
than my bedroom, and a thousand times more luxurious but I hardly
noticed the mirrored walls and the thick-as-a-mattress carpet. My
attention was caught and held by the two guys already in there, one
on my left and one on my right.
My gaze darted
between the two of them and I felt guilty colour sting my cheeks. I
hadn’t expected company but I wasn’t objecting. These guys were
fit and built. One dark-haired and smoooooth, the other blonde and
just-got-in-out-of-the-wild rough.
And I knew them.
Brandon Shaw and Mitchell Graham owned the company I work – ooops,
scratch that – the company I used to work for. I’d met them at
work events, like the Christmas party and the Halloween party and the
Employee of the Year party. I’d seen them a couple of times from a
distance. They always had a flock of female employees around them.
I’d heard people
described as chick magnets but only realised exactly what it meant
when I saw these two. I used to feel their magic pull yet always
stayed away because initially I was in a relationship, and then
afterwards was suffering from a broken heart and struggling to cope
with a job where my ex was screwing a colleague. Pity my ex didn’t
take a leaf out of these guys’ books – there was never any
suggestion that they had slept with anyone from the company. Which
meant in the end that there was a gentle rumor that they were a) gay,
or b) didn’t like vanilla and went for the more exotic, with their
tastes catered for elsewhere.
I positioned myself
with my back to the wall and let my gaze slide over them. To my right
was Brandon. He’d taken off his suit jacket and had it hooked over
one shoulder. Beneath the fine fabric of his shirt I could see the
hard muscle of a broad chest, arrowing down to a pair of narrow hips
and a huge bulge... Oh man.
I licked my lips and
dragged my reluctant gaze away to focus on his face. He was watching
me scope him out. There was a hard predatory glint in his eyes. Heat
speared through me from my cheekbones to my pussy, part embarrassment
and part desire. I squeezed my thighs together to stop the growing
ache.
I quickly glanced
away and found myself checking out Mitchell on my left. He was
slightly shorter than his partner, and seemed kinder and less
predatory too. His eyes were a softer green, more jade than emerald.
But his shoulders were as wide and he sported an identical erection.
Were they lovers? A pity for womankind if they were gay. What a loss.
I shouldn’t be in
the elevator with them in the first place but the new militant me
with nothing to lose didn’t care. So instead of fixing my gaze on
the floor and fighting the temptation to look again, I enjoyed the
view. They put my slimeball ex to shame and my panties grew damp
while they silently watched me. I wished that I was wearing something
a little less conservative when the elevator jerked to a sudden halt.
Not a nice, slow,
we’ve arrived kind of halt but the scary kind.
The lights went out.
Panic dug its claws
into me, not letting go even when the emergency lighting kicked in.
“What’s
happening?” I didn’t even try and keep the terrified squeak out
of my tone.
“Hey,” Brandon
said softly, “it’s going to be alright. They’ll have it fixed
in no time.”
“It’s broken?”
I hated the idea of being shut in closed spaces, and the car, despite
its size and luxury, suddenly felt very small. I couldn’t bear to
spend hours locked in here hanging over all that empty space. The
walls closed in, my hands and feet went cold, and I struggled to
breath.
“Now you’ve done
it, Brandon.”
“Easy.” When had
they got so close to me? I was crowded by two warm male bodies that
smelt good. Having them so close, almost touching me, took my mind
off the elevator.
“Rub her hands,
Mitchell. Get some warmth into them, she’s freezing.”
Mitchell sandwiched
my hands between his palms and rubbed hard. The movement distracted
me, not because he was making my hands warmer, which he was, but
because he kept bumping my breasts. Awareness rushed through me and
my nipples went hard as cherry stones and poked at my blouse.
Brandon’s hands rested lightly on my hips but they might as well
have been brands. I could feel every finger as if there were no
clothing between us. Woodsy cologne, mingled with clean male musk,
swirled around me. My pussy creamed and I couldn’t help it; my
wayward body leant back until I was pressed hard against Brandon.
His cock, huge and
promising, seared my lower back. I couldn’t prevent a small sound
escaping. I felt my cheeks go hot. What must they think of me?
Mitchell’s
expression was rich with satisfaction in the dim light.
“Shall we carry on
distracting you, baby?”
I shivered, my
panties drenched as my body answered the question for them. Brandon
nuzzled the sensitive spot beneath my ear. His voice rumbled right
through my body as he asked, “Ever been double-fucked before?”
The crude honesty of
his question embarrassed me and I couldn’t answer. Then I forgot
what he asked because Mitchell dropped to his knees in front of me.
His hands stroked slowly up the back of my thighs. They smoothed over
stockings, and then paused when they reached my lacy garters.
Author
bio:
I’ve
been writing pretty much since I was able to read. I juggle
fundraising for charities, family life and writing with varying
success. My children have mostly flown the nest and I live in a small
village in North Yorkshire, England with my husband and some
chickens. I write in an old caravan in the garden where I can’t be
tempted to procrastinate on the internet.
