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Out Now—Hot #lesfic Window Dressing by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985)

Blurb:

Can Jessie work with a woman with the looks of a pixie and the personality of a dragon to complete the most important task of her career?

Shop-fitter Jessie is sent to London’s Oxford Street to work on a flagship store’s front window overnight. It’s the first time she’s completed such an important task by herself, but the plans and organisation are solid—it’s just a case of getting it turned around before the store re-opens the following morning. What she’s not betting on, however, is the woman in charge of the project—Edith. She has the looks of a pixie but the personality of a dragon, and it soon becomes clear to Jessie that the job isn’t going to be plain sailing, not with Edith being awkward and putting Jessie down at every turn. As the hours drag on, Jessie somehow manages to peer beneath Edith’s frosty exterior, and much to her surprise, she kind of likes what she finds. But will she abandon her principles—and potentially risk her job—for a one-off thing?

Buy links:

Amazon (universal link): http://viewbook.at/windowdressing

All Romance eBooks: http://bit.ly/2hMsUof

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2gTdtWK

iBooks: http://apple.co/2hLXgoi

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2hMBcfN

Pride Publishing: http://bit.ly/2h3xT4B

*****

Excerpt:

With a sigh of relief, I followed the satnav’s instructions and indicated right, swinging the van into the side road off of London’s Oxford Street.

“You have reached your destination,” remarked the posh voice coming from the machine.

“Thank fuck for that,” I shot back, removing the device from the windscreen and wiping at the tell-tale ring it left behind on the glass with my sleeve, hoping to remove any temptation for potential thieves. No doubt they swarmed around this area, tourist Mecca as it was. I didn’t want them to catch me out.

I stowed away the satnav, switched off the van’s ignition, and grabbed all my stuff. Hopping out onto the road, I locked the van and pocketed the keys. Then, wiping my damp palms on my black work trousers, I approached the rear door of the shop where I was to work.

Come on, get a grip, Jessie! You may be new at this, but you know what you’re doing. You’ve got this.

I wasn’t totally insane to be nervous. I’d been working for the shop-fitting company for just over a year now, and it was great. I really enjoyed the work, the variety. But this was the first time I’d been sent out on a job by myself. It hadn’t been intentional, either—the job was last minute, and the client had made it worth my employer’s while. Normally there’d been a team of two coming here, but there was another big job, one that needed the more experienced fitters on board. Therefore I’d been pulled off that task, in order to do this one. Alone.

Adding more worry was the warning one of my colleagues had given me on finding out where I was being sent. “You watch out for that Edith woman, Jessie. She may look like a pixie, but she’s actually more of a dragon. She frightens the bloody life out of me.”

The warning ringing in my ears, I took a deep breath and pressed the doorbell. I could do this. I could. I’d made it all the way from Leeds to London, navigating busy motorways and the complete insanity that was England’s capital city, venturing right into the heart—the craziest of the crazy. Fortunately, by the time I’d hit the West End, the traffic wasn’t too bad, given that the shops were closing and rush hour had been and gone. There were still morons galore, naturally—honking taxi drivers, swerving, lane-hopping cyclists, oblivious rickshaw drivers, suicidal pedestrians—but I’d kept my cool throughout, telling myself I was so close to the end of my journey that I could almost touch it. Taste it.

And here I was, at the back entrance of the flagship store of the world-famous fashion chain, ready to change over its window display in time for when the shop reopened in the morning. I glanced at my watch, relaxed a little. It was ten p.m. Eleven whole hours until opening time. No problem, not even for a relative newbie like me.

The door opened a crack and a sliver of a dark face peered out at me. “Yes?”

“Oh, hi. I’m Jessie—from the shop-fitters? Here to work on your window display?”

The woman—the voice had given it away, as she was still peering through the crack between the door and its frame—eyed me up. The black trousers, black T-shirt, black fleece—the latter two bearing the name of the company I worked for, clearly weren’t enough. Turning her attention to the van behind me—emblazoned with the company name in huge letters—she now seemed convinced.

“All right,” she said, opening the door wider and stepping back to let me through. “Come on in.”

“Thanks…”

“I’m Jacqueline. Edith’s already in the window. She’s the one in charge.”

I nodded. “Okay—lead the way.” I followed Jacqueline through the dimly lit storeroom. I’d known instantly she wasn’t Edith, because she looked nothing like a pixie. More like a goddess. She had a curly black afro, curves you could lose yourself in for days, and a wiggle that would have turned me instantly if I wasn’t already into women.

Blinking as we emerged into the blazing lights of the shop floor, I continued in Jacqueline’s wake, adjusting my ponytail and fixing a smile on my face as we grew closer to the window…and Edith. She was the big cheese—when it came to the window design and execution, anyway—so I needed to make a good impression. Hopefully she’d give good feedback to my boss, and I’d get more projects like this in future. Maybe even a raise—a girl could dream, right?

“Hi,” I said as we came within a couple of paces of my soon-to-be workspace. “I’m Jessie. Pleased to meet you.”

After a brief pause, the pixie took the hand I was holding out and shook it. Firm, confident, but brief. She was no-nonsense, this woman. But I’d known that already.

*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller) and The Persecution of the Wolves. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 150 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter or Facebook. Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. You can also subscribe to her monthly newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

Release blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.

 

Out Now—Classic Felthouse: Stories from the Archive by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985)

Classic FelthouseBlurb:

Fancy a blast from the past? Then dip in to five short stories from the Lucy Felthouse archive. A handful of her earliest published tales have been polished up and presented to you in one seriously hot collection. Enjoy a sexy soldier, a buxom babe, erotic daydreams, filthy phone sex and a language barrier, and see where it all began for this prolific author of erotica and erotic romance.

Buy links:

Amazon (universal link): http://mybook.to/classicfelthouse

All Romance eBooks: http://bit.ly/2gs48VN

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2gsbpor

iBooks: http://apple.co/2hp6bfo

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2gR7faE

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/2gRbZ0c

*****

Excerpt from Fantasy Assignment:

I couldn’t believe my luck when I heard what my next editorial assignment was. In fact I discreetly pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

My editor wanted me to write an article on Single Living Accommodation in the British Army. The British Army. Big deal, I hear you thinking. Perhaps I’d better explain. I have a real thing about men in uniform, I always have had. Stick me in front of a hot guy in uniform and I’m putty in their hands. So you see, I was rather excited at the prospect of being around all those sexy men. And even better, I was going to be paid for it. Talk about perks of the job.

The article was planned into an upcoming edition of the glossy women’s magazine I work for. The ‘careers special’ was designed to give the readers an insight into different industries and jobs within them.

I only had a few days to prepare for my assignment, so I did my homework and made lots of notes. I always like to be well prepared, to avoid the chance of messing something up and getting a bollocking from the editor.

Soon enough, the day arrived and I dragged myself out of bed at 6 a.m.—a chore in itself as I’m not a morning person—got my things together and took a taxi to the train station. I had strict instructions on where I had to change trains, where I should go and who I should look for when arriving at my destination. Corporal Matt Stokes would be there waiting for me. Given he’d be in uniform, I wasn’t too worried about recognising him.

When I boarded the first train and got settled into my seat, I grabbed my bag and pulled out a magazine. After reading the same page three times and realising I still had no idea what it was about, I gave up. I allowed my mind to wander. Would Corporal Stokes be attractive? Would he be tall and slim; small and well-built? Aloof, cheeky; who knew? All I knew for sure was that there was a good chance I’d think he was sexy simply because of what he was wearing. In my opinion, the uniform screams masculinity and sex. It hides what is beneath, leaving that to your imagination, but gives the impression of the wearer being rough and ready—just how I like my men.

After a speedy change of trains, I relaxed and let my thoughts wander for some time, until I heard the announcement that my station was the next one. I got myself ready, checked I had all my stuff together and perched on the edge of my seat. I was also aware that my daydreams had left me feeling more than a little horny, and as a consequence, my underwear was damp. I smiled to myself. I hadn’t even set eyes on a squaddie yet and my mind was in the gutter. Heaven knows what I’d be like when I was surrounded by hard male bodies, and the smell of sweat and spunk.

Perhaps I’d become immune to the charm of the uniform after seeing it constantly for a couple of days? Only time would tell. Five minutes to be precise; which was the time it took for the train to pull in at the platform and for me to get off and look around for my lift. As I’d expected, he wasn’t difficult to spot. As soon as I laid eyes on the six foot plus frame of Corporal Stokes, I knew I would never get bored of that uniform as long as I lived. Especially on him.

*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller) and The Persecution of the Wolves. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 150 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter or Facebook. Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. You can also subscribe to her monthly newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

Release blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.

 

OUT NOW! The House of Fox – An adult paranormal comedy by SJ Smith @sjsmithauthor @SinfulPress #paranormal #comedy #smut

HoFBannerwithslogan

SJ Smith gives us another glimpse into his warped mind with his latest novel. The House of Fox is a crazy paranormal sex-fest that some will love, others will hate, but everyone will remember.

2016-291 eBook The House of Fox 6x9Blurb:

The House of Fox is a paranormal comedy that contains scenes of a sexually explicit nature.

After a drunken night on the town, four friends awake to find themselves in the House of Fox, the ultimate brothel in the universe, where every sordid fantasy becomes reality. But all is not as it seems. The House of Fox harbours many dark secrets, and factions are plotting against one another.

The four newcomers must choose their friends carefully, and take care not to lose their minds on the thrill ride of perversion that will carry them to the ends of the Earth and beyond.

The Great Voyeur in the Sky is watching . . .

Buy links for The House of Fox:

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/House-Fox-SJ-Smith-ebook/dp/B01GF44M0S

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/House-Fox-Sinful-Comedies-Book-ebook/dp/B01GF44M0S

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-house-of-fox-sj-smith/1123824728?ean=9781910908044

Apple: https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/the-house-of-fox/id1126014781?mt=11

Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/the-house-of-fox

*****

HOF quote 3

Excerpt:

“Um, hello? I’m looking for someone called Pandora?”

“That’d be me,” replied a rasping voice.

“Oh, right. Hi!” He waved, and smiled his most charming smile. “My name is Dylan. Giovanni sent me down here to – um – escape?”

The woman came hobbling into the half-light. She was old – impossibly old – with wrinkles on her wrinkles and snow white hair hanging all the way to the floor. Her eyes, which were radiantly green and untouched by the years that had withered the rest of her body, twinkled with mirth at the expression he must have pulled on seeing her.

“What’s the matter, son? You forget what a real woman looks like?” She leaned her weight on a gnarled walking stick. “I’m ‘fraid to say, the magic that keeps all them girlies looking so damned good out there don’t work none in here. What you see is what you get.”

Was she fishing for compliments? God, women were so hard to understand sometimes. “You look lovely,” he offered, trying to ignore the obvious smell of piss.

“Ha!” Pandora came limping forward, reminding him of one of those crazy old fuckers he sometimes used to encounter in the Post Office. She sniffed the air. “So you’ll be the boy that wants to escape?”

Dylan nodded. “That’s me.” Something about her intense eyes unsettled him and froze him where he stood. He found he was scared of her for reasons he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“Holy shit. Things must be a damned sight worse than I thought if you’re the best they’ve got to offer.” She shook her head. “Times call for a lion, and I get given a lamb. I can tell from the way you hold yourself you’re more suited to brushing out stables than carrying the hopes of a nation on your shoulders.”

Dylan stuck out his bottom lip. He didn’t like this mean old lady.

“Well, what’s the matter? Cat got your tongue? Sweet Mary Mother of Joseph, let’s hope you ain’t as dumb as you look, because truth be told you look dumber than a bag of hammers.”

Her insults prickled at his skin. “Are you going to help me or not?” he asked indignantly.

“Help you? Well, that depends entirely on your definition of the word.” She cackled, and grinned toothlessly. “I’m going to send you out of here, just like you’ve been wanting. Whether that’ll be of any help to you remains to be seen. It isn’t an easy journey, and frankly you’ll regret undertaking it after you’ve not gone more than a dozen steps. You’ll soon be wishing you were right back here in the House of Fox, getting that big old cock of yours sucked by all them lackey floozies and hoochies.”

Only now did he realise quite how naked he was. Giovanni’s tuxedo had disappeared, as if blown away by a breeze. He covered his groin with his hands.

Pandora laughed. “No need to hide it, son. I’m a little long in the tooth to be getting offended by the sight of a man’s ding-a-ling.”

Frustration throbbed in Dylan’s temples. This whole experience felt like it was shaping up to be a waste of time. If only he’d stayed in bed this morning. “Can we just get on with it, please?”

“If you’re sure you really want to go through with this, we can get started right away.”

“I’m sure.” Dylan puffed out his chest. He wasn’t afraid. Was he?

Pandora nodded sagely. “Cool beans. Get down on your hands and knees. We’re going to work ourselves a little witchcraft.”

He knelt on the floor and got on all fours as instructed. The old woman squatted down beside him, her knees clicking and creaking. She ran her hand along his back, then reached between his thighs and closed her bony fingers around his cock.

Dylan pulled a face. Could it get much worse than this? Getting wanked off by an old lady in a hovel was seriously not cool.

“We’re going to need a little of your seed, so try and relax.” Pandora stroked his shaft with cold, leathery palms. “Come on big boy, squirt me up a handful.”

Dylan closed his eyes and tried to pretend the rather unpleasant motion at his groin was being caused by the mouth and tongue of that lovely blonde girl from last night rather than the warty, withered hands of a geriatric. He finally got hard, felt the flutters in his balls and gasped as he shot his load.

“Bingo,” Pandora muttered.

HOF quote 4

*****

Author Bio:

SJ Smith is a neurotic recluse who lives in North Wales. It has long been his dream to become a full time filth monger.

Links:

Twitter: @sjsmithauthor

Blog: http://sjsmithrants.blogspot.co.uk

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SJSmithWriter/

releaseblitzbutton_hof

Release blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.

 

Dare you enter The House of Fox? Pre-Order Now! (@sjsmithauthor @SinfulPress) #paranormal #comedy #smut

HoFBannerwithslogan

The House of FoxBlurb:

The House of Fox is a paranormal comedy that contains scenes of a sexually explicit nature.

After a drunken night on the town, four friends awake to find themselves in the House of Fox, the ultimate brothel in the universe, where every sordid fantasy becomes reality. But all is not as it seems. The House of Fox harbours many dark secrets, and factions are plotting against one another.

The four newcomers must choose their friends carefully, and take care not to lose their minds on the thrill ride of perversion that will carry them to the ends of the Earth and beyond.

The Great Voyeur in the Sky is watching . . .

The House of Fox by SJ Smith is now available to pre-order through Amazon and will be available for sale through all major outlets on the 30th of June.

Buy links for The House of Fox:

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1Ye7UVl

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1RWWqha

*****

HOF quote 1

Excerpt:

“God, look at the pair of them. They’re so fucking boring.”

Kitty was watching the live feed from the video camera; grainy, blue tinged footage on a fat backed TV.

“Like, any sane woman would’ve been bouncing on Dylan’s cock the minute she stepped through the door. But oh no, not little miss goody two shoes Donna; she’d never lower herself into doing anything quite so lowbrow.”

Jane, who was standing behind, massaging Kitty’s shoulders, nodded in full agreement.

“You know what? I’ll take great pleasure in throwing her to the flames. It’s no more than the dismal bitch deserves.” Kitty grabbed the clipboard and updated the dossier, scrawling nothing happening in the relevant box. “And here’s me damn fool enough to think pulling watch duty on that pair might prove fun.”

“Things may hot up… eventually,” Jane offered.

“Are you kidding? That bitch is so frigid she could raise penguins in her asshole.” Kitty swivelled around in her office chair and trapped Jane’s legs between her knees. “Fuck ‘em. Let’s get back to the game. Now remind me, honey pie, what was the score again?”

Four all.” Jane shook her head, gutted at having squandered a four-nil lead.

“Then it’s time for the big decider.” Kitty’s beaming smile lit up Jane’s world. “What do you think? The loser has to do the next five hours’ watch?”

“Let’s do it.” Jane strutted up to the mound, confident she could pull this off.

Kitty sat back in her chair and spread her legs wide, hanging her knees over either armrest. She licked her fingertip, parted her pussy lips and pushed three ping-pong balls up her cunt. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Jane nodded. She steeled herself in preparation, and tightened her grip on the spank paddle.

Kitty pulled a face and thrust her hips, and a ping-pong ball flew clean out of her quim at high velocity and came arcing across the office. Jane swung the paddle, but missed by six inches. The ball sailed by and bounced off the coffee machine.

“Strike one,” Kitty yelled.

“Goddamnit.” Jane rolled out her shoulders to loosen them, and adopted the stance once again. “Ready.”

A second ping-pong ball flew from between Kitty’s love lips, this time on a much lower trajectory. Jane swung and caught the ball a glancing blow off the rim of the paddle, sending it straight downwards, where it ricocheted off the floor and bounced several times before dribbling to a pathetic stop between her feet.

“Strike two,” Kitty yelled. “The game now rests on this one final delivery. Will she step up to be a hero or will she fold under the pressure?”

This time.” Jane was focussed now. She took a few practice swings before crouching sideways on. “Ready.”  She would not miss – she knew it.

The third ball, glistening with pussy juice, came spinning toward her, and she saw its flightpath almost in slow motion. She swung the paddle, catching the ball flush in the face, and sent it hurtling out through the open door into the corridor. “Home run,” she squealed, and danced a celebratory jig. “I win, I win.”

“Pah, you got lucky,” Kitty sneered.

“Luck had nothing to do with it. I won thanks to my natural ability at the game.”

The game – which they had been playing for the best part of two days – was called either Pussy Ping-Pong or Beaver Baseball; they still hadn’t made a final decision as to which they liked better. It had superseded ‘What’s the most unusual thing you can shove up your ass?’ which Kitty had won by successfully ramming a signed, first edition of Oliver Twist into her brown eye.

HOF quote 2

*****

PeeperAuthor Bio:

SJ Smith is a neurotic recluse who lives in North Wales. It has long been his dream to become a full time filth monger. If you’ve never had the pleasure of reading SJ Smith before, his hilarious crime novel, Peeper, will be free from the 26th to the 30th of June on Amazon. Buy links can be found at www.sinfulpress.co.uk/Peeper

Links:

Twitter: @sjsmithauthor

Blog: http://sjsmithrants.blogspot.co.uk

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SJ-Smith-426405650840664

Publisher links:

Website: www.sinfulpress.co.uk

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/sinfulpressuk

Twitter: @SinfulPress

preorderblitzbutton_houseoffox

 

Out Now! – The Collector by Kay Jaybee (@kay_jaybee) #erotica #ku #kindleunlimited

Re-edited, with a brand new cover, and two HOT new stories, Kay Jaybee’s first solo work of erotica is being re-released for a new generation of sexy story lovers!

Alongside each story, there is a short introduction explaining exactly how “the collector” came across the tale in the first place.

kj-thecollector-200Blurb

Gathering salaciously erotic stories against an everyday backdrop of bus trips, train journeys, coffee shops, and restaurants, The Collector documents a wide variety of sexual encounters as she travels Great Britain.

The Collector’s research takes her into every arena of the erotic experience, from love, lust, submission and dominance, to voyeurism and beyond.

Are you brave enough to see if it was your supposedly private conversation she overheard – and then wrote down?

***

Buy The Collector now, or read as part of your Kindle Unlimited subscription: http://getbook.at/thecollector

 

Extract from The Scottish Fantasy

(One of two new stories added into this new addition of The Collector)

Stacie gasped as the door opened. The dark shine to the man’s slate eyes as he regarded her and her friend Kate was in danger of taking Stacie’s breath away, and he hadn’t even spoken yet.

Tall, broad, with a tanned face and short spiked hair, a hint of stubble shadowed his square chin. Obviously surprised to see two young women walking through the woods so late on a winter’s afternoon, the ranger ushered them inside his wooden hut.

Introducing himself as Rob—Like Rob Roy! Stacie’s inner voice shouted at her. How perfect is that!—he looked at them enquiringly, ‘I dunna ken what you’re doin’ here, hens.’

Stacie’s brow furrowed. She’d thought that the Scottish spoke English.

Kate laughed as she saw her friend’s confused expression. ‘He means he doesn’t understand what we want, honey. “Dunna ken” means “don’t know” and “hen” is the local term for girl.’  Turning toward the ranger, Kate smiled. ‘This is Stacie, and I’m Kate. Stacie hasn’t got her ear geared into the local accent yet; she’s American.’

‘I guess that means an American accent.’ The ranger spoke so softly, Stacie felt herself melting on the spot. ‘I rather like those.’

Ignoring her friend, whose eyes were on stalks, leaving her in no doubt that Stacie was on an internal lust trip, Kate said, ‘We’re really sorry to bother you so late, but could you tell us where we are? We seem to be on a much longer trail than we intended to be, and we’ve lost the track.’

Rob’s dark eyes bored into her as she spoke. Kate couldn’t decide if their presence mildly amused him, or if he was merely tolerating the interruption to his work.

‘We’ve run out of water as well. Could we fill up our bottles here, please?’

‘It’s a good job you stopped, hen.’ The ranger pulled a map off his cluttered desk and pointed a thick finger at a red dotted line. ‘You’re here, on the all day walk. It’s called that for sound reasons.’

Lost in an erotic daydream, Stacie wasn’t listening to a word he said, just to the sound of his voice; the beautiful, gentle burr of his accent. She judged it fitted neatly half way between Ewan McGregor and Sean Connery.

When Kate had invited her friend over from the States for a couple of weeks exploring the Grampians of Scotland, Stacie had been thrilled. Not only could she catch up with her gorgeous friend and occasional lover, she could visit an area of the world that had always held a fantasy for her. Kilts, burly men in tight white vests, cabers being tossed, heather, whiskey, and mountains topped with snow.

The heather and mountains were a reality sure enough, as were the late night tots of warming whiskey she’d shared with Kate as they snuggled up together in the king-sized bed their Deeside hotel room provided. But until now, in this ranger’s office, hidden away in the woods near the flooded caves of Burn O’Vat, Stacie hadn’t seen anyone who even came close to the Celtic man of her late night fantasies.

Stacie felt mesmerised by the ranger. Despite the coldness of the late winter air he wore no coat, and his green sweater sleeves were rolled back to show arms honed by hard work. Forget kilts, this was as close to perfection as Stacie’s Scottish fantasy was ever going to get.

‘I’ll fill your bottles right enough, but if you’ll heed my advice, you’ll go back on the route you came. Far quicker and safer. It’ll be dark in about two hours.’

‘Thanks, I think we’ll do that.’ Kate watched as he took their empty water bottles over to his sink. His back view was as stunning as his front. The goldfish expression on Stacie’s face told her girlfriend that she was mentally undressing him, and Kate began to do the same.  Well aware that Stacie had serious fantasy issues where Scottish men were concerned, Kate wondered just how turned on her friend was. Did she have damp knickers? Were her nipples hard?

As Kate’s thoughts rambled, her own arousal began to tweak up a notch. Perhaps… She took a deep breath. Well, why not?

‘It must be lonely here, on your own all day.’ Kate knew the line was a bit lame, but she didn’t care. A sideways glance at Stacie showed that her lover had understood her intentions, and approved.

Rob didn’t look round. He didn’t need to. He could sense the two sets of eyes on his back; they were almost scorching him. Taking his time to fill the second bottle, the ranger thought the situation through.

Two of them, both hot totty. One a blonde, one a redhead. One English. One American. A tasty combination. Their bulky winter coats, sensible walking trousers and boots didn’t give much away, but he was willing to bet that once all the layers were off, they would be a sight to behold. He could be wrong, he supposed, but maybe…

Rob replied to Kate’s question. ‘I like it well enough, hen. I ken it’s quiet, but I like peace and quiet.’

‘So, you don’t get… lonely, then?’ Kate knew she was being blatant, but she didn’t care. If she could pull this off, it would be the perfect holiday present for her friend. Stacie, her mouth dry with anticipation, stepped forward. Pulling off her gloves to reveal pale hands with violently clashing purple nail-varnished tips, she took the full bottles from Rob’s hands. Making certain her fingers brushed his as she did so.

‘Thank you,’ Stacie purred as she passed one of the bottles to her partner. The tacit standoff that followed as tension rippled through the small office room-cum-workshop was eventually broken by Rob.

‘Would you lassies like something to warm you up before you go?’  His sentence, delivered in a deadpan tone, could have been suggesting something as mundane as sharing of a mug of hot chocolate, but his sparkling eyes hinted at so much more.

Stacie’s pulse quickened as Kate casually replied, ‘Well, if it’s not too much trouble, that would be lovely.’ Another normal sentence, but packed with enough eyelash-fluttering that she might as well have screamed out ‘Fuck us now!’

‘I was about to light the fire.’ Rob knelt at a small grate, already neatly piled with kindling. ‘Perhaps you’d like to lose your jackets for a while. When this takes, this place gets pretty hot.’

The girls’ eyes were drawn to the hopping, spluttering flames. They threw their coats over their backpacks, which they’d already dumped by the front door.

Taking his time with the fire, the ranger didn’t stir from where he crouched until it had taken to his satisfaction, and was smoking nicely up the chimney. Then, with a measured movement, he stood and faced his guests, who with unspoken agreement had divested themselves of far more than just their coats. Somehow Rob managed to keep his face passive as his eyes travelled from the top of each girl’s head down to their toes.

They stood naked. Holding hands. So, lovers in their own right, then. Nice. He smiled. It had been over fifteen years since he’d been with two women at the same time. A memory that kept him warm during the dark winter days and nights as he guarded the woodland and its wildlife.

Deciding against comment, Rob took a silent moment to choose which girl he’d treat rough and which one he’d simply treat. Then, with a pace that neither girl would have associated with the man whose previous movements had been so controlled and steady, he stripped…

Buy The Collector now, or read as part of your Kindle Unlimited subscription: http://getbook.at/thecollector

Kay - tantus

Bio

For over a decade Kay Jaybee has lived a nomadic existence across the British Isles, collecting stories as she travels.

Kay Jaybee was named Best Erotica Writer of 2015 by the ETO

Kay received an honouree mention at the NLA Awards 2015 for excellence in BDSM writing.

Kay Jaybee wrote The Perfect Submissive Trilogy, (The Perfect Submissive, The Retreat, Knowing Her Place, Xcite 2011-14), The New Room, (Xcite, 2015), The Voyeur, (Xcite 2012), Making Him Wait (Sweetmeats, 2012), A Sticky Situation (Xcite, 2013), Digging Deep, (Xcite 2013), Take Control, (1001 NightsPress, 2014), and Not Her Type (1001 NightsPress, 2013.

Details of all her short stories and other publications can be found at www.kayjaybee.me.uk

You can follow Kay on –

Twitter- https://twitter.com/kay_jaybee

Facebook –http://www.facebook.com/KayJaybeeAuthor

Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/3541958-kay-jaybee

Brit Babes Site- http://thebritbabes.blogspot.co.uk/p/kay-jaybee.html

Kay also writes contemporary romance as Jenny Kane – www.jennykane.co.uk

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© 2017 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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