Voyeuristic Fun with Kay Jaybee

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It’s always a pleasure to have my good friend, the Queen of BDSM, Kay Jaybee over at my place. Today the eyes have it with some voyeuristic fun. Welcome, Kay!

One of the biggest attractions in the world of erotica is voyeurism. That feeling of being on the edge of Kay Jaybe Voyeuristic Funsomeone’s forbidden world and peeping in- often secretly- is a big turn on. It is also extremely exciting to write from a voyeuristic perspective. I’ve taken this literary route for many of my novels and stories over the years- most obviously for my erotic BDSM 3-some romance novel, The Voyeur!

However, it isn’t that story that I’m going to share a little bit with you today- but inspired by the arrival of a circus in my local town this very day, it is my novella, The Circus.

When it comes to voyeurism the there is no location more suitable than one with an auditorium- the theatre, ballet, opera- or perhaps the circus.

As a child I always found the circus a rather sinister place, full of scary clowns, overconfident acrobats, and fake smiles. What better location then, to set a full throttle sexual showcase?

The Circus is set in a crumbling decrepit theatre, where a business man with strong voyeuristic leanings, has set up an exclusive event. A place where fellow observers of the erotic arts, can pay an extortionate amount of money to watch- and perhaps join in- a monthly display of BDSM antics.

Blurb

When Carrie’s partner Scott buys her a ticket for the Circus, she isn’t at all sure she will enjoy what she’ll see. An uncertainty that jumps to fear, when the strict, whip wielding Ringmaster calls out Carrie’s ticket number, and she realises she isn’t going to have to simply watch- she is to be the subject of the bondage and punishment spectacle to come. What the hell will her boyfriend say? And where is Scott anyway?

Extract

One hundred quid a ticket!

Carrie still couldn’t believe Scott could afford to pay so much to secure her a seat in the small, run-down theatre.  It wasn’t as if she was even guaranteed any action.  Everything was deliberately uncertain.  But then, as he had assured her, that was part of the attraction.

Perspiration was dotting down the back of her neck, and the more Carrie thought, the more she wondered if perhaps she didn’t actually want anything to happen.  That it might be better just to watch, better not to win the lottery that would change her from being a mere observer of events to a prime player in the evening’s entertainment.

Even though the room was packed, every thinly covered velvet seat taken, no one looked at anyone else.  No one regarded their neighbour.  No one gave a friendly smile of greeting as they waited for something to happen.  All eyes were focused towards the stage.  There was a hushed buzz to the neglected theatre, as if the ghosts of a thousand performances had been trapped within the walls.

In the centre of the stage sat a collection of left over props from dramas long past.  At first glance it appeared to be merely abandoned clutter, but as Carrie examined the items more shrewdly, she began to suspect that everything had been carefully and cleverly placed.

An oak coffee table and bench supported two legs of an iron-framed double-bed, which was devoid of either linen or mattress.  Next to the sloping bed, heaped to the left side, a pile of old wooden chairs were haphazardly stacked.  On the opposite side was a fallen umbrella stand, apparently tipped over

by the weight of the walking sticks, canes, and what Carrie suspected were Victorian style shooting sticks.  She felt her pulse quicken.  You didn’t have to be Einstein to work out what that lot could be used for.

Carrie could feel the heat of her skin prickle beneath her chestnut ponytail.  She sat wishing that unnamedScott hadn’t been called away on yet another dire work-related emergency, and that he could be there with her.  More than a little self-conscious, she fidgeted with her outfit.  Playing safe, she’d decided to wear black.  Black thigh length boots, black pleated mini skirt, black stockings, and a black chest hugging lace-up basque, with strings that only just managed to conceal the pale freckled chest over which it had been stretched.  She knew she looked like a slutty walking cliché.  But then again, in this place, at this time, that was entirely the point.

The unnervingly tinny music that had been droning from a speaker in the far corner of the room abruptly stopped.  Carrie could feel the tension in the theatre double, and for the first time she allowed herself a fleeting survey of the other members of the audience.  The competition.  An almost even split of about sixty men and women, all dressed as either Dominants or Submissives, all aged between about twenty-five and forty-five.  The room rippled with erotic anticipation.

When Scott had told her about The Circus, the new show that had taken over the city’s long empty theatre, Carrie had thought it really was a circus.  A family show with clowns, scantily clad acrobats, and the odd juggler.  She had, to his amusement, waxed lyrical about how much she’d loved the circus as a child.  She was soon disabused of her naivety.

Increasingly aware of the clammy sheen of nerves on her palms, Carrie still wasn’t quite sure how Scott had talked her into coming here without him.  But her curiosity had gotten the better of her, just like he’d known it would.  He had insisted that, with her private personal preferences, she would be in her element having her bum smacked in front of a select group of eroticists.  Carrie wasn’t so sure.  Having her ass roundly whipped by Scott in the sanctity of her flat while he ordered her to crawl around the floor was one thing — but this was different.  This was voyeurism on speed.  The almost animal gleam to her lover’s eyes however, when he told her how much he was looking forward to a blow-by-blow account of her experience, added an extra dimension to the tingle of fearful anticipation that played in her stomach.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” a gravelly masculine voice bellowed over a speaker system that crackled from the effects of dust and lack of use.  “Welcome to The Circus.  I would ask you all to abide by your hosts decisions, and only mount the stage if and when you are invited to do so.  Sit back and enjoy.  It’s show time!!”

There is no denying the attraction of stories with voyeurism as their base. The basic curiosity within so many of us makes it a salacious idea – the thought of might we might see if we were  to peer behind closed doors, or peek  through that key hole- especially if we have the sneaky feeling that those within secretly want to be observed….DELICIOUS!!

Many thanks once again to the wonderful KD Grace for letting me visit her site again today!!

Happy reading everyone,

Kay Jaybee xxx

Kay Jaybee wrote the novels The Retreat – Part 2 of The Perfect Submissive Trilogy, (Xcite, 2013), Making Him Wait, (Sweetmeats Press, 2012), The Voyeur (Xcite, 2012), The Perfect Submissive (Xcite 2012), as well as the novellas, Not Her Type: Erotic Adventures With A Delivery Man (2nd ed. 1001 NightsPress, 2013), Digging Deep (Xcite, 2013), A Sticky Situation, (Xcite, 2012), and The Circus, (Sweetmeats Press). She has also written the anthologies The Collector (Austin & Macauley, 2012 & 2008), The Best of Kay Jaybee (Xcite, 2012), Tied to the Kitchen Sink, Equipment, (All Romance, 2012), Yes Ma’am (Xcite e-books, 2011), Quick Kink One and Quick Kink Two (Xcite e-books, 2010). Kay has had over 80 short stories published by Cleis Press, Black Lace, Mammoth, Xcite, Penguin, Seal, and Sweetmeats Press.

Details of Kay’s work, past, present and future can be found at www.kayjaybee.me.uk

You can follow Kay on Twitter- 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

Stately Pleasures by Lucy Felthouse

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Stately PleasuresAlice Brown has just landed her dream job. Property manager at Davenport Manor, a British stately home. It’s only a nine-month contract to cover maternity leave, but it’s the boost up the career ladder she so desperately needs.

Unfortunately, things don’t get off to the best start, when Alice finds her boss, Jeremy Davenport, in a compromising position. Far from being embarrassed by what’s happened, Jeremy turns things around on Alice and makes her out to be the one in the wrong. So when he and his best friend and head of security, Ethan Hayes, then throw an ultimatum at her, she’s so stunned and confused that she goes along with their indecent proposal.

When the dust settles and Alice has time to think about things, though, she realises that perhaps it isn’t such a bad thing. There are worse things she could be doing to advance her career, after all.

Buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/stately-pleasures/

Add to Goodreads here: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18756618-stately-pleasures

*****

Excerpt:

Alice took a deep breath, in through her nose and out through her mouth. Repeated the process once more. Then, realising she could sit there all day doing it and not feel any calmer, she forced herself to step out of the car and close and lock the door.

She bent to peer into the wing mirror of the vehicle and checked her hair and make-up. Satisfied, she straightened, then turned on her heel and walked quickly across the driveway to the great house before her nerve failed her.

Davenport Manor was currently open for visitors, so she walked in through the front door and was met by a smiling elderly lady.

‘Can I help you?’ the woman asked kindly.

‘Yes, please.’ Alice twisted her hands together nervously. ‘I’m here to see Mr Davenport. I’m here for an interview for the property manager’s role.’

‘Yes, of course,’ the woman replied, ‘that’s today, isn’t it? Follow me; I’ll take you to Mr Davenport’s office. But just hang on one second.’

She ducked through the doorway into the next room and spoke with her colleague. Alice guessed she was letting her co-worker know she’d be gone for a few minutes. A few seconds later, she was back. ‘OK, follow me, Miss …’

‘Brown,’ Alice said, then fell in behind the other woman as she led her to Mr Davenport’s office, and the interview that could change her life for ever. It was hardly surprising that she was shaking like a leaf.

Alice quickly felt lost as their journey took several twists and turns along dim corridors – their blinds drawn to protect paintings, tapestries, and furniture from the sunlight – and up a flight of stairs. She had a few seconds to worry about finding her way if she was lucky enough to get the job, then, suddenly, her guide stopped outside a door and turned around.

‘Here you go, Miss Brown. Mr Davenport’s office. Good luck with your interview.’

Alice smiled and thanked the elderly woman, then smoothed down her skirt, which also conveniently helped wipe the nervous sweat off her hands. She stood up straight, gave herself a mental pep talk about being more than qualified for the role, and knocked on the door.

‘Enter.’

Alice knew that voice could only belong to Jeremy Davenport. The posh accent, and the fact he’d said “enter” instead of “come in”, screamed money and an upper-class upbringing. Alice was suddenly nervous of her broad Midlands accent and lowly background, despite the fact she’d worked her backside off to get into a decent university in order to gain a Bachelor of Arts degree and then a Master’s degree. No matter what she sounded like, or what her past was, she had all the skills necessary to do the job she was about to be interviewed for.

Suddenly, she realised that she’d left rather a long pause before opening the door, and she turned the handle before the occupants of the room thought they were about to interview some kind of simpleton who couldn’t follow a simple instruction.

Fixing a polite – but hopefully not inane – smile onto her face, Alice stepped into Jeremy Davenport’s office. Her first thought – which certainly did nothing to help her nerves – was good God, he’s hot.

Jeremy sat behind a desk, with a heavily pregnant woman sitting beside it. Alice barely noticed the woman. All she saw was him. A man with cropped dark brown hair, hazel/green eyes, a jawline you could cut bread with, and lips that looked capable of doing incredibly wicked, sexual things to a woman. Or a man. Alice had no idea what his sexuality was, but she found herself hoping he liked women.

She chastised herself. Even if he did like women, he wouldn’t go for someone like her. A Plain Jane, with mousy brown shoulder-length hair, blue eyes, average height and above average weight. Alice had always known she’d never be a supermodel, so she’d worked extra hard academically, and here she was. About to be interviewed for her dream job.

*****

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over eighty publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. 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

Regulating our Fantasies

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wickedwedThe topic of safe sex in erotic fiction comes up all the time amongst writers and readers. I recently had a run-in with someone who was disturbed by the fact that the characters in many of my novels and short stories, don’t wear condoms. It’s true. They don’t. They don’t because they live in the fictional world I’ve created, an erotic world designed to play out my fantasies and, I hope, those of other people as well. The truth is that never once have I had an erotic fantasy that involved the use of a condom. I have written a couple of stories in which condoms are used, but in those stories, I didn’t use condoms to make a statement nor to assume that my readers needed reminding that in the real world, safe sex is a must. Rather, condoms played a role in the development of the story.

My stories are my fantasies, entirely and completely the product of my imagination. I’m a firm believer that my readers are intelligent and savvy and very aware of the world around them. I also understand that some people prefer their fiction and their fantasies more realistic. Fair enough. Fortunately for them, there are writers who prefer to write that way. I don’t happen to be one of them.

Holly Condoms3It’s ironic that the stringent rules and regulations that apply to erotic fiction do not apply to other kinds of fiction. I understand that some of those guidelines in erotica have to do with the publisher knowing the target audience. But In other types of fiction, subjects are covered all the time that are completely forbidden in most standard erotic guidelines for submission, and yet no one expects that readers of non-erotic fiction should need to be reminded that guns are dangerous and murder and rape are wrong.

I have written stories for which the submission guidelines demanded the use of condoms in all scenes involving penetrative sex. I gritted my teeth and wrote what the guidelines dictated. But it seems to me that the message such guidelines send is two-fold. First of all that because erotica is about sex, it’s automatically more dangerous than other types of fiction, and secondly that readers of erotica are just not as smart as readers of other types of fiction and they must have extra instruction and guidance to equip them for the reading of such dangerous material.

Do we really believe that people are more ignorant where erotic literature is concerned, and more likely to cause themselves and others harm than they are if they read any other kind of literature? Do we really believe that if the character in a story has a gang bang without the use of condoms that the reader will automatically think this must be what sex is all about, and go out and try it for her or himself?

Erotica is, by its very nature, the place where the reader can experience for him or herself what would never be considered safe in the real world, what, given the opportunity to do in the real world, given the opportunity to participate in, her or his response would be an unequivocal ‘No thanks.’ Is it any different than a thriller or a horror story, or an adventure novel?

The whole point of a novel is to live vicariously a life that one wouldn’t have the opportunity, and more than likely wouldn’t even want to live, if one did have the opportunity. Commercial fiction is all about vicarious thrills and vicarious experiences from the safety of our own home. That’s why reading is so much fun.

I believe readers should be given credit for discernment, credit for being as savvy about the differencesP1010083 between erotic fiction and reality as they are about the differences between other kinds of fiction and reality. I’m not saying that fiction can’t be didactic. And indeed part of the beauty of fiction is that it offers the inadvertent opportunity to learn something new. What I am saying is that I tell stories. I tell stories for fun in a world that, I think, could use more fun. If there are lessons taught, they come about inadvertently while I’m having fun telling a story. But I don’t feel a deep burning need to tell my readers to do what they already know to do, what they’ve been aware of every moment of their lives from the time their old enough to understand that the world is a dangerous place. And sometimes the world adults must live and function in can be a boring place as well. If they’re like me, and I assume at least some of them are, that dangerous world, that boring world, is a very large part of the reason they enjoy fiction so much.

And they enjoy it while they continue to stop for red lights and level crossings, while they continue to treat their fellow person with respect, and while they continue to practice safe sex, all without having to be reminded that these things are for their own good.

(From 2011 Archives)

Justine Elyot Returns to Her Fantasy Roots with Her Latest Novel, Princess in Chains

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It’s a pleasure to welcome one of my very favourite writers and a good friend, Justine Elyot, back to my site, and this time writing in one of my very favourite genres! Welcome, Justine!

Guesting at K D’s blog always feel like an event and I’m delighted to be here under her glamorous spotlight. Thanks, K D!

Justine Elyot Princess in ChainsmedI’ve been writing and publishing erotica for five years now and I’ve tried my hand at a number of different styles and sub-genres. If I’m known for anything, it’s probably for contemporary erotica with a substantial dose of kink. But I enjoy reading and writing a diverse range of stories and all those kinky city women with their deliciously dominant lovers aren’t the only string to my bow.

I’ve written a speculative fiction novel (Under His Influence for Carina Press), a paranormal novel (Saxonhurst Secrets for Xcite) and an historical novel (Secrets And Lords for Mischief). And now I’m going back to my roots and experimenting with fantasy with Princess In Chains, the first in a trilogy for Xcite.

I say ‘going back to my roots’ because fantasy books were my absolute favourite as a child. We start with fairy tales, and I stuck with them, having a passion for the Narnia books that led to me borrowing them all from the library six times in a row. Quests, adventures, desperate escapes and rescues – these were rocket fuel to my developing imagination. And you will find all of that kind of thing in Princess In Chains.

You won’t find the controversial allegories of world faiths that you find in C S Lewis’s work though – my kingdoms have religions of their own, or they have no religions. Some of them are up to their ears in strange superstitions and some of them are solidly practical. Some are afraid of sex and some embrace sexuality in all its glorious forms and fluidity. None of them are exactly like a real place – at least, I hope not.

It’s a tiny little bit like Narnia, a little (but not much because everyone is human) like Middle Earth, a little more like Westeros. If that sounds like a place you could visit, perhaps you’d like an excerpt:

Asta was being borne away, aloft, by a trio of rough-looking men. They were some yardlings distant, but if she ran…

She put down her head and cannoned through the press, Taran hot at her heels, shouting imprecations behind her.

‘They have her,’ she explained, turning her head for a moment. ‘My…they have her.’

But the crowd was too thick and too unpredictable in its patterns of movement and she could not get close, no matter how she flailed and kicked. One man turned and grasped her arm, yelling at her for knocking down his small son. That was all the time Taran needed to catch up with her.

‘Mind your woman,’ growled the man, over Taran’s apologies. ‘If I were you I’d get her home and let her work out her passions on the washtub.’

‘Perhaps I will,’ said Taran. ‘Asta. Calm yourself. Are you saying that your mistress has been assaulted?’

‘They are taking her,’ said Leonore, waving in the direction of her last sighting.

‘What did you see?’

‘Three men, wild-looking fellows…oh, what do they mean by taking her?’

‘Let’s follow their direction. Perhaps we can find them.’

They crossed the square, past the swinging corpse in the gibbet, through more crazed dancing, which had started up again regardless of the pother.

Their wanderings led them to a side alley, but it was quiet. If the abductors had passed that way, they had moved quickly. Or perhaps they were inside one of these shuttered buildings.

Leonore stopped abruptly before one of them, seeing again the strange conglomeration of triangles on the doors and walls.

‘One of the men – his arm was tattooed with this sign. At least, I think it was.’ She turned to Taran. ‘What does it mean?’

‘Valish Liberation,’ said Taran. ‘An organisation that seeks to overthrow Corvin from the throne.’

She tugged at the voluminous material of his sleeve.

‘Then that is a clue as to her whereabouts. He must be one of these freedom fighters. They have perhaps kidnapped her – for a ransom? Or…she is a political prisoner of some kind.’

‘Or they are just ruffians who wanted a woman.’

‘There were whores a-plenty out in that square. Why take a noblewoman, except for the purposes I have named?’

***

What’s happened to her?

You can find out by reading the book!

It’s available from all good retailers, including Sainsbury’s Online: http://www.sainsburysebooks.co.uk/book/Princess-In-Chains-Justine-Elyot/7710174

Amazon UK:

eBook

Print

Amazon.com:

eBook

Print

Find Justine Here:

Website: http://justineelyot.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/JustineElyot

facebook: https://www.facebook.com/justineelyot

 

 

Fulfilling the Contract is All Decked Out for Vegas!

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I’m very excited to prance about and show off the gorgeous cover for Fulfilling the Contract, which is book two in The Mount Trilogy and the sequel to The Initiation of Ms Holly.  And to celebrate the occasion, I’ve added a juicy excerpt to titillate and entice. Fulfilling the Contract will be out in paperback 13 February, just in time to make Valentine’s Day sizzle, and in eBook even sooner! Who says what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas?

Blurb for Fulfilling the Contract:Fulfilling the Contract

Limo driver, NICK CHASE’s bad night gets worse when he picks up TANYA POVIC at a bar only to discover the explosive sex they share lands her in breach of her very strange contract. Blaming himself that Tanya will lose the large completion bonus earmarked for her mother’s surgery, Nick negotiates with her boss, the tough and mysterious ELSA CRANE, to allow him to fulfill Tanya’s contract and secure her bonus.

Elsa runs Mount Vegas, which offers voyeuristic pleasures for a price. Nick’s job, with Elsa and her quirky team, is to give clients something worth watching through the plate glass windows of Vegas’s luxury hotels and beyond. The learning curve is steep and kinky. As Nick and Elsa’s relationship sizzles and ignites more than hotel room rendezvouses are exposed. In this sequel to The Initiation of Ms Holly things get positively dangerous as Rita Holly and her team are called in from London to lend a helping hand. Bets are being placed. Will Nick fulfil the contract? Will he and Elsa take the gamble? And will they find a way to win at the high stakes, double or nothing, game of hearts?

Excerpt from Fulfilling the Contract:

Elsa looked down at the specs she had discussed with Mrs. Keyser. It was another virgin loses her cherry to a surly billionaire scenario, which would be nicely spiced up by having the head of The Mount in London and the owner of its club playing the billionaire and his virgin. Rita and Edward’s involvement would raise Mount Vegas’ profile considerably within the organization, and it would be a voyeuristic treat for the whole team.

Originally she’d had Tanya in mind for the roll of the virgin with Deke playing the brusque billionaire Dom – he looked the part. Thankfully the idea had totally intrigued Rita and Edward or Elsa would have ended up playing the virgin. Though she never thought of herself as anything but worldly, she had the look that would have worked. She loathed the role of playing a sub almost as much as she loathed the role of a virgin. With Tanya gone, though, she supposed she should get used to it. There was at least one billionaire and virgin fantasy a month since Fifty Shades of Grey.

She forced her attention back to Mrs. K.’s specs, which she had entitled The Billionaire Buys a Virgin Bride.     

The plot was simple. The billionaire buys the virgin as his bride to pay off her family’s gambling debt. Of course that bit was all in Mrs. K.’s head. The actual fantasy would begin in the Wedding Chapel. Mrs. K. wanted that part included, with a kinky little scene before hand in which the billionaire checks out his merchandise just to make sure he gets what he paid for. Well that was a nice touch, Elsa thought. She wrote down a few notes about a discrete, but filthy feel-up and probe of the little innocent to make sure she really was a virgin under all that white taffeta. Elsa added some very naughty ideas about the groom guiding his little bride’s virgin hand to the fly of his tux for her first fondle of his very expensive junk. It was shaping up nicely for a billionaire/virgin fantasy.

After the happy couple say their ‘I do’s’ there would be hot sexy foreplay in the limo on the way to the hotel. Elsa could imagine lots of dirty talk on the part of the billionaire about his new bride’s lovely tits and her tight little slit that he was all bulging and hard to fuck. All the while the little virgin would be blushing and squirming and moistening the crotch of her wedding panties, or lack there-of – oooh, that was better yet, make the little dear walk down the aisle without any undies!

‘Oooh Mr. Chase, please be gentle with me. I’ve never been with a man before and you’re sooo biiig,’ Elsa said out loud in a mock-girlish voice. Foreplay in a limo. Of course it would be Nick Chase she’d think of. After he had stormed off last night, she’d given herself a serious finger fucking when she was alone in her bed trying to unwind after a day that had gone on forever. It wasn’t just the thought of him coming into Mount Vegas to finish out Tanya’s contract, all knight-in-shining-armor-like, it was that he’d even consider such a thing to begin with – blaming himself for Tanya’s bad behaviour. Okay, so he’d left in a huff when he found out what fulfilling her contract would involve, but he left with a hard-on, and one it didn’t take 20/20 vision to see. Five would get you twenty he’d had to stop and jerk off before he got back home. She wondered if he’d even made it out of the building before he’d had to answer the call.

God, how she’d love the chance to handle that cock! Wouldn’t it have been something if Nick Chase had agreed to finish out Tanya’s contract? Elsa’s panties definitely got moister at the thought. Wouldn’t she love the chance to train that boy up? With those drowning-deep cinnamon eyes and that slightly mussed bedroom hair that had the bronze shimmer of desert heat about it. Training him would be no hardship. He’d be a huge hit with the clients. She wished she’d have found a way to get that shirt off him. It was quite obvious the man was built for filth, and he was not the kind of a man she figured spent hours in the gym to get that way. He spent time in the sun, she’d bet. The bit of research she’d managed before he stormed the castle to rescue Tanya said that he owned a place with a couple acres outside town and that he’d inherited the limo business from his father. Not his first choice, the Vegas limo business, especially not for someone with Nick’s background. She wondered if his hands were calloused. She loved the feel of callouses against her more sensitive bits. She crossed her legs to get a good squeeze where she needed it and thought about guiding Nick Chase’s fingers to those sensitive bits to check for callouses.

britbabes_kink_hotnraunchy_4It was hard to get comfy in her chair as she read through Mrs K.’s specs. Seriously she would almost be willing to play the submissive virgin if Nick Chase were her billionaire, and certainly he had that surly billionaire look about him. And oh the way he did guilt! Mrs. K. would burn out her vibrator in a fit of lust at the very sight of him ‘de-virginizing’ Elsa. Elsa was just reaching in the drawer for her own vibrator to see where fantasies of Nick Chase ‘de-virginizing’ her might lead when there was a knock on the door, and her second in command stepped in without waiting for her invitation.

He smiled as she stuck the vibe back in its place. ‘You thinking about last night? I had a good wank afterwards. Chase is hot. I don’t mind saying I was disappointed to see him leave so quickly.’ He nodded down to the drawer where she kept her toys. ‘You want me to give you a few minutes? Or I can take care of you if you’d like.’

‘Thanks, Pike.’ She offered him a wave of her hand. ‘I’d love to take you up on it, but today I really don’t have time, so it’s a good thing you got here when you did. Now that we’re short-handed, I’ve got to re-shuffle everyone for tonight’s little adventure. Deke’s already set to play our big-name magician. Turns out he even knows a few magic tricks, but Tanya was supposed to be his buxom assistant who gets it up the ass in the disappearing cabinet.’

Pike nodded. ‘That was a nightmare to get cameras set up in. Leave it to Darnell Peters to complicate things.’

‘Yes but he pays well and he’s kinky as hell. And he adores watching Tanya.’

Pike sat one tightly jeaned ass-cheek on her desk and smiled down at her. ‘But he likes watching you even better.’

‘She was prepared for the role. I’m not.’

‘That never stopped you, Elsa. You’re great at pulling an act out of your ass. You’re upset about letting Tanya go, that’s all.’

She stared past him at the wall behind. ‘It was the right thing to do, Pike.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘If it had been me, I’d have done it a long time ago. Nobody’s that good. Personally –’ he leaned over the desk and brushed a quick kiss across her lips ‘—I’m still hoping our lovely Mr. Chase will have spent a sleepless, guilt-ridden night and rush back to us all ready to take on Tanya’s contract. I saw you slip the card into his pocket.’

She forced a little laugh. ‘Always an optimist, aren’t you, Pike?’

‘Always a pessimist, aren’t you, Elsa?’ He stood and rubbed his hands together in anticipation. ‘I think we haven’t seen the last of Mr. Chase. If I were to venture a guess, Tanya’ll harass him until the poor guy’ll take on her contract just to get her to leave him alone.’

‘Or he’ll take out a restraining order,’ Elsa said. Then she added. ‘Even if he did come back and he did agree to finish out Tanya’s contract, he’d never last two months. Hell I doubt he’d make it through one week.’

‘It’s Vegas,’ Pike said. ‘I’ll bet you he’ll call back in less than 48 hours, probably unable to shut out the guilt or Tanya’s badgering, or all the nasty thoughts he’s had about what he saw last night.’

Elsa was reminded again why she loved her second in command so much. He had a way of always convincing the pessimist in her that the glass was half full. ‘Alright,’ she said. ‘I’ll bet you we won’t see him again. If I win, I get one of your fabulous back rubs.’

He offered her a filthy look. ‘With all the trimmings?’

‘All the trimmings,’ she said.

‘And if I win, like it or not, you’ll be my sub in the next dungeon fantasy. Though I suppose before we shake on it, I should warn you I’ve stacked the deck.’

‘Oh?’ She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him.

‘I accidentally sent Tanya Mr. Chase’s cell phone number last night before I went off to beddy-bye.’ He stopped her response with quick kiss. ‘And no need to play shocked. I got it from you, my lady. You’re not the only one who has access to Mount Vegas research.’ He made quotation marks in the air with his fingers to emphasize the word “research.’” He looked at her from under a dramatically drawn brow. ‘You weren’t thinking of calling him yourself, were you?’

‘I certainly wasn’t.’ She replied. ‘And frankly, I don’t think it’ll matter even if you did give his number to Tanya. He fucked her once and got more than he bargained for. End of story. And he doesn’t have to answer his calls, so yes, Mr. Smart Ass. I’ll take your bet.’ She stretched in her chair and twisted her neck from side to side. ‘I really could use a good back rub.’ She offered him her hand.’

‘It’s a bet then,’ he replied shaking on it. Then he dusted a kiss across the back of her knuckles. ‘I’ll have the dungeon made ready.’

She reached up and gave his cheek a playful slap. ‘You do that. I always like my people to have a well prepared work place. Now can we take a look at this week’s agenda and see how we can minimize the loss-of-Tanya-damage.’

To Rome With Lust, Book 3 of The Mount Series, Coming November 2014
To Rome With Lust, Book 3 of The Mount Series, Coming November 2014