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The Phallus of Osiris by Valentina Cilescu

The Phallus of OsirisDeath and Lust and Vampires!

The Master is a sex vampire. His aim: to dominate through the glories of the flesh. His minions are beautiful and lascivious and their eager bodies and warped minds are bent to his evil purpose. The lost Phallus of Osiris is the greatest erotic talisman known to man and the Master will not rest until he has it in his possession. Just one woman can help him fulfil his dark ambitions – the one person who still resists him. Mara, the white witch. Great though the Master’s power is – in Mara, and The Phallus of Osiris, he may have met his match.

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
All Romance eBooks
Barnes & Noble
Kobobooks.com

*****

Excerpt:

It was dark in the room. Dark and strangely airless. But Mara felt no fear. She stretched out her hand and touched her unseen lover’s hand. Although she could not see him, she knew he was standing by the side of the bed; that he was naked, and ready for her . . .

‘Come to me . . .’ breathed Mara. And her fingers moved from her lover’s hand to explore his body – running down his flank, his thigh; searching eagerly for the warm weight of his testicles; seeking out his most sensitive and intimate places to tease and excite his flesh; and bring him to her.

She heard his breathing: hoarse and quickening now. And seconds later, she felt him sit down on the bed beside her, felt the soft coverings yield to his weight as he lay down by her side and pressed his hot nakedness up against her willing flesh.

He was by her side now, stroking her with knowing fingers that seemed to read her mind, divine her every dream and wish. His fingers slid down her body, as though taking the measure of her, mapping out the fullest extent of the bounty offered to them. They fluttered like butterfly wings, up from the firm roundness of her hips to the taut flesh of her tiny waist, and then up still further; until at last they found the swelling amplitude of her magnificent breasts, caressing their firmness appreciatively.

He was kneeling beside her: leaning over her, the better to toy with her. Mara gasped with pleasure as invisible hands cupped her breasts and kneaded their warm and yielding flesh. Skilled fingers searched out the budding hardness of her nipples and pinched them between finger and thumb, just hard enough to provoke an irresistible blend of pain and pleasure.

‘Take me!’ gasped Mara, reaching up and touching the hands which were so knowingly exploring her body. They were strong hands, hands she felt she knew well; hands that were strong and sinewy and capable of great violence – and yet gentle enough to tease, torment, arouse.

Strong, sinewy wrists and forearms . . . She could reach no further; so she stretched out her hand to the side, and felt for the body of her unseen lover. Her hand made contact with his thigh, muscular and covered with thick, coarse hair. She slid her hand upwards, upwards, letting her fingers glide softly over the hairs; and she felt her lover tremble at the exquisite torment of her touch. Bolder now, she let her hand move higher still, and shivered with delight as her fingers brushed against her lover’s testicles.

They were heavy, vital, pulsating with a raw energy that communicated itself to her as she stroked their velvety pouch, weighing them in her palm. Then she let her fingers stray still further, and felt them slide deliriously along the smooth length of a hard and throbbing shaft that she knew yearned to bury itself in her.

And as she stroked it, she felt herself grow hotter and wetter, her juices welling up as though from some secret spring deep within her. It was as though she was melting from the inside outwards, as butter might melt in anticipation of the hot knife that would soon plough into its

soft and willing depths . . .

The room was filled now with the fragrance of sex; the sweet, heady aroma of a cunt well greased, of a prick whose tip glistens with the first drops of semen, the first promise of the torrents to come. Mara slid her hand along her lover’s shaft and ran her fingertips gently over its tip: it was already slippery with love-juice and she shivered again with the delicious anticipation of its entry into her most intimate places.

*****

Other Modern Erotic Classics available:

  • The Houdini Girl by Martyn Bedford
  • Lie to Me by Tamara Faith Berger
  • The Phallus of Osiris by Valentina Cilescu
  • Kiss of Death by Valentina Cilescu
  • The Flesh Constrained by Cleo Cordell
  • The Flesh Endures by Cleo Cordell
  • Hogg by Samuel R. Delany
  • The Tides of Lust by Samuel R. Delany
  • Sad Sister by Florence Dugas
  • The Ties That Bind by Vanessa Duriés
  • Dark Ride by Kent Harrington
  • 3 by Julie Hilden
  • Neptune & Surf by Marilyn Jaye Lewis
  • Violent Silence by Paul Mayersberg
  • Homme Fatale by Paul Mayersberg
  • The Agency by David Meltzer
  • Burn by Michael Perkins
  • Dark Matter by Michael Perkins
  • Evil Companions by Michael Perkins
  • Beautiful Losers by Remittance Girl
  • Meeting the Master by Elissa Wald
 

Smut Alfresco edited by Lucy Felthouse and Victoria Blisse

Smut AlfrescoSex in the great outdoors is the theme of this erotic anthology, edited by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse.

From the dramatic gritstone escarpments of Derbyshire’s Peak District, to a quiet caravan site in deepest Wales, Smut Alfresco has it all. Whatever your interpretation of frisky outdoor fun, there’s something nestling between the covers for you.

Sexy woodsmen, daring couples, rock stars, cougars, map enthusiasts, mattresses, ex-lovers, tour guides, hunky sheriffs and nature reserve rangers all appear in this hot collection of stories from erotica’s finest authors.

Includes stories from: Violet Fields, Demelza Hart, Victoria Blisse, Jacqueline Brocker, Wendi Zwaduk, K T Red, Tilly Hunter, Bel Anderson, Lucy Felthouse, Kay Jaybee, Tenille Brown, Cass Peterson, Jenny Lyn and Nicole Gestalt.

 

Available from:
All Romance eBooks
Amazon UK
Amazon US

Other links added here as they become available: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/smut-alfresco/

*****

Being Free

By Lucy Felthouse

Violet slammed down the lid of her laptop with far more force than was necessary. She flinched, thinking perhaps she might have cracked the screen or broken one of the machine’s internal components. Then she shrugged, realising she didn’t care if she had. It was her work’s computer, after all, not hers. If it was fucked, they’d have to replace it. And it would serve them right, too. Bastards.

The reason she was pissed off was the fact she was in work at all. It was Saturday, and the previous afternoon her useless boss had dumped a project on her, stating it had to be finished by Monday, no matter how long it took. He’d then added that he was going away for the weekend, meaning it was all down to her. The selfish, disorganised wanker. It wouldn’t be so bad, but she hadn’t had a pay rise for two years, and when she went above and beyond for her job, she didn’t get so much as a thank you, let alone be paid any overtime. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, either.

Well, fuck them. She wasn’t going to be a doormat—or her boss’ scapegoat—any more. Let them try and sack her—she wasn’t doing anything remotely wrong, and they couldn’t make her working life any more hellish than it already was.

She stood up sharply, sending her swivel chair careening backwards across the room until it hit the wall. She shrugged again, she still didn’t care. Let it chip the fucking paintwork, or a bust a hole in the plasterboard. No one else was there, so nobody could prove or disprove that it had been an accident.

Pausing to switch the lights off—she was pissed off at her employers, not the environment—she left the offices, setting the alarm before closing the door behind her. Stuffing her access swipe card into her handbag, she heaved a sigh of relief. There would probably be hell to pay for her stunt on Monday, but she’d worry about that then. Right now, she was just desperate to get out. Into the countryside, or, given she was in central London, to a green space, at the very least.

From where she worked, Green Park was probably the closest, but she figured Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens were bigger, so she’d be more likely to find a secluded spot where she could just be by herself. The last thing she needed now was to have to deal with other people.

*****

Links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk and http://victoriablisse.co.uk

 

Kinky Boots Go Walking on a Sexy Blog Tour

Kinky_BootsWho doesn’t love a good pair of boots? A good pair of boots can make you feel sexy and powerful, like you’re ready to conquer the whole world. And if a good pair of boot is nice, a kinky pair of boots is even better. Beginning Monday 18 March, I’ll be taking Kinky Boots on tour. For a week I’ll be parading Jill and Finn and Eleanor and Meinrad and their naughty antics around to some of the hottest, naughtiest blog you could ever hope to visit. Here’s where the Kinky Boots gang will be. Come join us for the fun and frolic.

Find Kinky Boots on These Naughty Sites:

18th Marchhttp://sexyreads.co.uk
19th Marchhttp://dawnsreadingnook.blogspot.com/
20th Marchhttp://www.bookinitreviews.com/
21st Marchhttp://galestanley.blogspot.com
22nd Marchhttp://adrianakraft.com/blog
22nd Marchhttp://blissekiss.co.uk/ {Extra Snog Stop}

Blurb:

After a sizzling encounter in Kinky Boots, a quirky all-night shoe store, with the store’s hot owner, FINN MASTERS, JILL HART walks away in Kinky_Bootsthe most gorgeous boots ever. Her new boots come with an unexpected bonus, a sexy demon named ELEANOR, who’s looking for a good time. All she lacks is a body, and Jill’s will do nicely.

Jill quits her dead-end job and, not knowing what’s come over her stops by the nearest pub intent on doing tequila shots until she falls off the stool. Instead she does FINN MASTERS in the beer garden, unwittingly participating in her first ever threesome. The boots were the bait, the timing was right and Eleanor has new digs. It’s Finn job to prevent Eleanor’s misbehaving. His failure means he’ll have to ride shotgun and do damage control until Eleanor moves out at the next full moon.

With Eleanor in residence, Jill’s bolder, sexier, willing to take risks. But is she a whole new Jill, or is it just demon courage? And how will Finn feel about her when she’s just plain Jill again? Will the maddeningly magical ménage make Jill’s dreams come true, or will it break her heart?

Excerpt:

The clerk lifted her right foot into his hand. She tried to squirm away but he held her firmly flashing her a concerned glance from under a drawn brow. ‘You could have seriously injured your feet walking around Shoreditch at night in someone else’s shoes.’

The skirt she wore was a denim mini, and the way he sat between her legs made her feel exposed, vulnerable, and something a lot more yummy. As he ran his thumbs up her instep and over the pad of her foot, she shifted in the chair sliding down to accommodate his inspection.

‘Shoes are so important. They protect our feet, our soles, the only part of us that regularly contacts the earth. They allow us that intimate connection with our planet while at the same time keeping us safe from it.’ He continued his inspection of her feet, hands moving gently over her arch to the ball then to her toes as he cupped her heel in a warm hand. ‘No two people’s soles contact the earth in the same way.’

Her pulse thudded at the enthusiasm of his little speech which, along with his gentle inspection of her feet, felt shockingly intimate, even more so than if he had actually peeked up her skirt. His actions were having a cumulative effect low between her hip bones. ‘Maybe you could sell me something a little more suited to me.’ Her words rushed out breathless and unsteady.

He placed both hands on his thighs and looked up at her. ‘Did you have a pair in mind?’

She gave a quick glance around the store, and her eyes lit on a pair of mauve boots that came up just over the ankle, low on the calf. They sported delicate kitten heels and were threaded with sage green laces that looked more like ribbons, ‘How about those,’ she said. Then she blushed fiercely. They were lovely, elegant, and any idiot could see, totally not suited for someone like her. ‘Or maybe something a little more practical.’ She avoided his gaze. ‘A little less flashy.’

Ignoring her second thoughts, he stood and walked to the rack. She couldn’t keep from noticing how nicely his butt filled out his jeans. She could imagine that arse had sold more than a few pairs of shoes to women who liked a good view. It was then she realized he had taken the boots straight off the display. ‘I’m hard to fit,’ she said as he knelt in front of her and unlaced one boot.

‘Trust me–’ he smiled up at her, opened the boot and offered it to her like Cinderella’s Prince Charming ‘– I can fit you just fine.’

 

 

The Perfect Dom by Lucy Felthouse

The Perfect DomFour kinky and erotic BDSM tales from the smutty pen of Lucy Felthouse.

Balancing the Books
Philip’s a well off man, and doesn’t need a job. But when he sees the gorgeous owner of his local bookshop, he applies for the role that’s being advertised there immediately. He’s totally stricken by the stunning Giovanna, and when it turns out she wants to boss him around in a sexual sense as well as an employment sense, he has no intention of refusing.

Feeling the Heat
Taylor and Maisie’s car has broken down. Luckily, Taylor’s handy with engines and is working hard to get them back on the road. Unfortunately, Maisie is getting annoyed at the amount of time he’s spending in the garage and confronts him. Instead of arguing back, though, Taylor comes up with an ingenious plan to keep Maisie quiet.

The Perfect Dom
Part of Mia’s nightwear is a pair of hotpants with SPANK ME emblazoned across the arse. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem, but when she forgets that she has a houseguest and heads to the kitchen for a drink, she’s shocked to find Alex in her living room. Immediately spotting what he sees as an invitation written across Mia’s bottom, Alex makes an offer and Mia soon discovers that he is, in fact, the perfect dom.

Meet Me at the Spanish Steps
Darby is working at a holiday camp on the outskirts of Rome and is getting along just fine, with the exception of her sex life. For various reasons, she’s not getting what she wants in the bedroom, and her tastes are very particular. She turns to the Internet to get what she needs, and when she discovers William, it seems that he’s more than willing—and capable—of scratching that particular itch.

Available from:
All Romance eBooks
Amazon UK
Amazon US

Coming soon to all other good eBook retailers.

*****

Spank me. Is that an invitation?”

Shit. Mia had completely forgotten about him. Her flatmate, Katy, had asked if it was okay if her brother could stay on their sofa for a couple of nights. His own place was being fitted with a new bathroom and conditions over there weren’t exactly tantamount to hygiene. Mia had been rushing around in order to get to work and hadn’t really been paying attention, so she’d just agreed and then promptly forgotten.

Now, however, she was being treated to a huge and incredibly embarrassing reminder. Katy was on a nightshift at the hospital so when Mia had woken up at 9p.m.—her own body clock being on that of working in the club, though tonight was her night off—she’d deemed it safe to wander to the kitchen to get a drink in what she was wearing.

Big mistake. Alex was sitting on the sofa, an eyebrow quirked and a leering grin on his face. He held his iPad, and earphones hung around his neck. He’d obviously been watching a film or playing some ridiculous game before Mia had flipped the light on and sauntered through the living room in nothing but a skimpy vest and hotpants. The hotpants were, of course, what he was referring to. The fuchsia garment had SPANK ME emblazoned across the ass in large black lettering.

Mia gave Alex a look that would have turned a lesser man to stone. He, however, simply grinned even more widely, then said, “Well? Do you need a firm hand to that luscious butt of yours? Like a spanking, do you?”

Mia sighed. “Shut up, Alex. It’s none of your business. I’m just getting a drink. Get back to your damn gadget and leave me alone.”

“Oooh, someone’s defensive. I’m just saying, you must have them for a reason. A statement like that printed on your backside would definitely be construed as an invitation in my book.”

“Well, maybe it is an invitation, Alex. But it’s certainly not directed at you. Now if you’d kindly stop passing judgement on my non-existent sex life I’ll get my drink and get out of your way.”

*****

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over seventy publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include Best Bondage Erotica 2012 and 2013, and Best Women’s Erotica 2013. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies. She owns Erotica For All, and is book editor for Cliterati. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

 

Kristal Baird Asks the Burning Question: What’s in a Name?

What’s in a name?

Even Shakespeare wondered:Kristal Baird PI HoneytrapMaster Isolated Images

“… that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet”

But exactly how much thought do writers give to the naming of characters?

Random selections? Personal encounters? Or are they chosen for being rich and meaningful?

Charles Dickens & Henry James, by all accounts, couldn’t even begin to write without establishing a character through naming. They claim their true character only came into focus when gifted the correct name. Both compiled lists of possibilities against future use, gathered from diverse sources such as commercial vehicles, newspapers – and, no doubt, the odd gravestone!

  • Schoolmaster, ‘Wackford Squeers’, beats, starves and terrorises as an alternative to teaching.
  • ‘Gradgrind’, a lacklustre utilitarian imposes his daily tedium of uninspiring education.
  • Jolly, wet-nurse, ‘Polly Toodle’ a “plump, rosy-cheeked, wholesome, apple-faced young woman”.
  • ‘Mr Wopsle’, the church clerk (a frustrated actor) delivers his opinion with such exaggerated dramatics that no-one ever takes him seriously.
  • ‘Mr Bumble’, the power-hungry, status-loving, minor official.
  • ‘Luke Honeythunder’  could be none other than a loud-voiced philanthropist.

Kristal Baird P I Honeytrap imageThese two writers were not alone in their quest.

Edmund Spenser The Faerie Queene created the joyless ‘Sansjoy’; Milton  Paradise Lost ensured ‘Lucifer’ became ‘Satan’ only after his fall from grace and James Joyce Finnegan’s Wake and his satirical efforts would be a whole other post.

Film characters’ names are fascinating too. Picture these apt variations:

  • Arnie Schwarzenegger – Trench,Tasker, Matrix, Conan, Muscleman
  • Jean-Claude Van Damme –  Frenchy, Phillipe Sauvage, Edward Garotte, Chance Boudreaux
  • Steven Seagal – Kane, Steele, Cold, Hunter, Glass and Storm!

Who doesn’t feel they understand a little about characters from well chosen names alone?  Gollum, Luke Skywalker, Sam Spade, Boo Radley, Breathless Mahoney, Cruella De Vil, Holly Golightly, Ratso Rizzo, Gordon Gekko, Plenty O’Toole or Forrest Gump anyone?

A well-chosen name can open the door to a deeper understanding of character and intention; a fact a writer might ignore at their peril. However, it doesn’t do some any harm:   “God, I’m such a lazy writer. I can’t even think up new names.”  Dennis Potter

What do you think?

Just for Fun: Did you know…?

  • Barbie’s full name is Barbara Millicent Roberts, whilst Ken’s is Kenneth Carson.
  • Would you care to refer to The Wizard of Oz as Oscar Zoroaster Phadrig Isaac Norman Henkel Emmannuel  Ambroise Diggs? He stuck to OZ as he considered his other initials to be “a reflection on my intelligence” [PINHEAD]
  • Peppermint Pattie [Peanuts] bears the name Patricia Reichardt.
  • Shaggy [Scoobie Doo] is less well known as Norville Rogers

 

Think what fun writers & readers can have with names (& take a closer look at mine…)

Kristal Baird x

PI Honeytrap Review Details

P I HONEYTRAP

An erotic novel by Kristal Baird

 

Blurb

Hayley doesn’t trust men. She thinks most of them are only good for one thing. And she gets plenty of that honey-trapping cheating husbands or satisfying her own needs with local gym owner, Reuben.

And woe-betide him if he even tries to get emotionally close to her. Because tough girl Hayley is running. From her past. From herself.

Will Reuben ever understand this girl? Will Hayley ever accept exactly who she is and what she needs from a man? Will she learn to trust again?

Kristal Baird PI HOneytrapExcerpt

[Hayley interviews a potential client who thinks her husband is cheating on her, but she’s daydreaming about last night…]

‘Go on.’ Hayley settled back in her chair. She could listen and drift away at the same time.

She drifted straight back to the gym where she’d retreated late last night, to pound a little tension out of her body. Her private arrangement with the owner allowed her to use the place long after his other customers had gone home …

‘Still running, Hayley?’

Hayley knew that Reuben had been standing behind her in the doorway between his office and the main gym hall watching her for some time. She was observant about things like that. And about his choice of words. Perhaps it was time to cancel the arrangement?

‘Still running, Reuben. Are you wanting to lock up or something?’ She kept pounding the treadmill. The angle was at full elevation and it was hard work to keep going at that speed. She didn’t want to break her stride.

‘I did that an hour since. It’s just you and me.’

She knew that tone. He moved closer but the stare was the same. It meant only one thing, and Hayley didn’t mind how she pounded the tension out of her tonight. Particularly with Reuben.

‘I’m kind of busy right now.’ Hayley liked to tease him; to keep things light between them.

He walked over to her machine. ‘Then let me help you with your workload.’ Reuben punched the controls and the incline began to slowly reduce.

Hayley adjusted her body’s forward drive and stared at him as he started to ease the pace she was running too. She’d been on the machine for nearly an hour. That was the reason she suddenly noticed her pulse rate was so high, her heart pounding. The only reason. Sweat dripped off her skin, which glowed with heat. Even between her thighs.

‘I’m a bit of a mess,’ she claimed. She was jogging steadily now, coming down gradually from her peak.

‘I like my women hot, sweaty, and out of breath.’ The tight lift at one side of his mouth told Hayley he liked his own jokes and he was hot too. For her.

She checked out the bulge in his sweats and cocked an eyebrow. Ready to rumble. ‘You’re a lucky guy, then. You’ve got a machine that does most of the work for you, getting them in that condition.’

‘Look around you. I’ve got quite a few.’ Reuben’s eyes were fixed solidly on hers. ‘Machines. Not women.’

Hayley didn’t need to look around to know what was there. Since she’d opened her private investigation office two doors down from Reuben’s Gym, she’d worked out on most of the equipment – with and without Reuben. With was a different kind of workout. And, whatever he said, there were women too. She’d seen their eyes follow Reuben about. But she wasn’t intending to make that her business. This was strictly casual.

‘Machinery? Kind of makes your job a bit too easy. What’s left for you to do?’ Hayley was off the machine and twisting the top off the bottle of water that Reuben had handed her. She tipped her head back and downed the lot in one go, needing the rehydration if she was to keep working out. Making out. And she’d already made up her mind that, tonight, she would be.

Hayley wondered if she liked coming here more for the machine workout or for the other kind of exercise she got at Reuben’s place, and if Reuben wondered too.

He stepped in closer. His body was all muscle. He didn’t just own a gym, he used it on a regular basis. In her line of work, Hayley really appreciated a fit guy. She honeytrapped plenty for her clients, and most were creeps. But Reuben wasn’t work. He was all playtime.

‘I step in for the rub-down.’ He took the empty bottle from her and flipped it across to the bin.

‘Good shot.’

Reuben’s grin told her he wanted to show her another kind of slam dunk. ‘My talents are many.’

They sure were. God, he looked sexy when he smiled. Hot body with all the defined tendons and sinews of an athlete. Great features. The complete package. It was Hayley’s turn for her mouth to twist up into a smile of appreciation. Looking sexy in a white vest and sweatpants was only the start of Reuben’s endowments.

He placed his hands on her forearms and ran them up to her shoulders. She was hot before, but now she began the slow rise to combustion as his firm fingers kneaded the tight muscles at her shoulders and ran up the length of her neck into her hairline.

Hayley reached back and pulled out the elastic that was holding her dark hair back into a tight ponytail. Reuben pushed his fingers through its length, curving around the shape of her skull beneath. She moaned softly.

‘You like that?’

She nodded, eyes half closed.

‘I can do better,’ he promised. He gathered the fabric at the hem of her T-shirt, having given her the expression that she recognised as asking her consent, and peeled it off her damp body. She let him.

The air-conditioning hit her hot, sticky skin and sent shivers dancing across it. Reuben grasped her wrist and towed her behind him towards the massage room. There was an urgency about his movements that told her he’d waited long enough; that he wanted to get her to a place where she would let him fuck her as soon as possible. The guy was hurting.

That’s why she came back to Reuben’s. He worked hard to turn things his way, but it was always her choice in the end. With the hard, muscular size of him, no matter how fit she was he could have her pinned beneath him in seconds flat. But she always knew a simple no would end matters there and then. The guy had self-control.

Unlike some of the jerks she worked with. She’d been involved in some pretty nasty encounters to get the evidence her clients needed. To prove their husbands and boyfriends were cheating, lying scum who would chase any pretty woman who looked their way, irrespective of the fact they were supposedly committed.

She could feel her tension mounting again. Reuben could probably feel it too. He threw a warm, fluffy towel on the massage bench and pressed Hayley face down towards it. She twisted her hair again into a loose knot and fixed it on top of her head.

‘I’m going to unhook your sports bra, Hayley. Is that OK?’

‘Mmm.’ It was only the beginning. The tingle in her nipples told her that tonight she was going all the way. But it wouldn’t hurt to let him wonder.

Reuben unclipped the garment with a practised hand that made Hayley smile. They had an understanding. No ties. Just a little R and R whenever they wanted it; needed it. She liked it that way.

She liked what Reuben was doing to her now too. Her nose told her he had poured warm coconut oil into the palms of his hands, which he slicked across the entire surface of her back. He started palm-circling in small movements, slowly up to her neck on one side of her spine and down to the top of her sweatpants. She could feel the tightness in her muscles soften as he worked.

Time disappeared. Perhaps she drifted off to sleep beneath Reuben’s expert hands as he went through his magic routine; lifting, knuckling, twisting. It was those sexy little thumb strokes that eventually brought her back to consciousness.

Or his gravelly voice.

‘I want to give you a full-body massage, Hayley.’ The gruff tone told her the massage was doing as much for him as it was for her. God, she liked this guy.

He was asking her permission again, to take it up a notch. No point pretending. ‘I want that too.’

They both knew he had been given approval for more than just a rubdown.

Reuben’s fingertips hooked in her waistband and he tugged her sweatpants down over her hips. She heard him moan softly as she raised her hips off the bench to accommodate him. She smiled at the silence as he discovered she wasn’t wearing panties. What was the point under sweatpants? At the gym. With Reuben.

A little more oil swirled between his hands and Reuben’s strong fingers flowed from the arch of her spine, over the rise of her lower back to the firm mounds of her buttocks and down her thighs, not stopping until they reached her lower calves. Without ceasing, they returned on their journey to her bottom again.

Her legs felt long, strong, and lean under his actions. Reuben always made her feel good about herself. So good. She parted her legs minutely.

His fingers hooked softly beneath her hip bone and he alternately pulled and pushed the heel of his hand across the muscle of her buttock, working the tight flesh loose and warm. He walked around to the other side, drawing his hand across her body, keeping contact as he went, and repeated the firm movements on the other side.

Despite the relaxing slide of his hand across her oily flesh, Hayley sensed a moment when the contact between them changed. She grew taut and tense. She felt Reuben harden too, somehow. This was it. His hand lay over the cleft of her bottom. His oily fingers dipping lower and lower between her legs. She relaxed them further apart to ease his way.

****

Thank you for reading. I really hope you enjoyed it. It’s a full-length novel, so there’s plenty more PI HONEYTRAP

BUY LINKS:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/P-I-Honeytrap-ebook/dp/B00AY0XH1A/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1357769259&sr=1-1

http://www.amazon.com/P-I-Honeytrap-ebook/dp/B00AY0XH1A/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1357769341&sr=8-1&keywords=PI+Honeytrap

http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/P-I-Honeytrap/book-B1cRD48P202mLWLBlwHRmA/page1.html?s=E0rT110LV0Kq3hzAUNOuXA&r=1

http://www.xcitebooks.co.uk/Book/8733/P-I-Honeytrap.html#

Contact Kristal Here:

@kristalbaird

http://kristalbaird.blogspot.co.uk/

https://twitter.com/kristalbaird 

https://www.facebook.com/KristalBairdAuthor

http://www.goodreads.com/goodreadscomuser_kristalbaird

 

 

 

 
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The Romance Reviews

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