I’m travelling for the next two weeks, so I’ve decided it’s time to give you lot a tasty sampling of travel writing. When I started thinking about it, I realized that travel figures prominently in a lot of my romance novels and in none more so than in The Pet Shop, which is set both sides of the pond. The thing about travel is that you spend a lot of time being in that space in between. Most of the time you do whatever you have to to keep busy and keep from getting bored. I guarantee my flight to Oregon won’t be anywhere nearly as exciting as Stella James’ flight to Oregon was. Enjoy!
Oh, and warning in advance! ADULT CONTENT!
In appreciation for a job well done, STELLA JAMES’s boss sends her a Pet for the weekend – a human Pet. The mischievous TINO comes straight from THE PET SHOP complete with a collar, a leash, and an erection. Stella soon discovers that the pleasure of keeping Pets, especially this one, is extremely addicting.
Obsessed with Tino and with the reclusive philanthropist, VINCENT EVANSTON, who looks like Tino, but couldn’t be more different, Stella is drawn into the secret world of The Pet Shop. As her animal lust awakens, Stella must walk the thin line that separates the business of pleasure from the more dangerous business of the heart or suffer the consequences.
The Pet Shop — Mile High and then Some! Excerpt:
Accompanied by a black-suited handler who carried the mauve and crème rucksack someone had selected for her, she arrived at Heathrow, but not at departures. When the handler helped her out of her pet carrier, it was a smartly dressed male flight attendant who took her bag, and offered her his arm, leaving the handler looking on from the van. On board the attendant addressed her. ‘You are to relax and enjoy the flight, Ms James. I’ve been instructed that you have very bad laryngitis and can’t speak, so please feel free to write down any instructions you may have for me. I’ve left a pen and pad of paper in the seat pocket for you. Now buckle in. We’ll be underway in a few minute.’
She could barely manage the seat belt, she was trembling so badly. Her mind was vacillating between all the horrible things she could imagine might happen to her and memories of the last time she was put aboard a private jet.
‘Here, let me get that for you.’ Suddenly Vincent Evanston, well turned out in Armani, clean shaven, every hair in place, knelt in front of her, placed his large hands over hers and buckled the belt. And she collapsed in a puddle of shakes.
“Oh for heaven sake, Stellla, it’s all right. There, there, now. Calm down.’ He settled in next to her and slipped his arms around her. ‘It’s all right. What did you think, that they had sold you to the highest bidder to be added to some despot’s harem in outer bumfuck somewhere. It’s just me. That’s all, just me. I promise no harem, no outer bumfuck, and I’ll have you back in time for work on Monday.’ He shrugged and offered her a crooked smile. ‘More or less.’ He tut-tutted. ‘And I can only imagine how long this weekend is going to be for the mighty Stellla James, a whole forty-eight hours bursting at the seams with so many burning questions, and not being allowed to ask any of them, you poor thing.’
The laugh that forced its way up her throat sounded pathetically like a sob. She tried to shove him away playfully, but he caught her face and landed a kiss across her lips, with just the tiniest flick of tongue to make her catch her breath. ‘Don’t think I’m a softie, Stellla. That would be a mistake. I’ll happily punish you soundly for misbehaving. How else are you going to learn to be a proper Pet?’
The pilot announced departure and Vincent buckled in next to her. As soon as the plane was leveled at cruising altitude and the seat belt sign was switched off, he unbuckled himself and her, took her hand, and hurried her to the back of the plane, which was partitioned off with a built-in bed. He motioned to the bed. Once she was on it, he pushed her to the centered and practically tore her clothes off, with her using all the control she had not to help him. At last, when he had her naked and her clothes shoved onto the floor, she rose on her haunches to sniff and nuzzle him in the getting acquainted ritual, but Vincent rolled on top of her and pinned her spread-eagle beneath him. ‘You don’t need to get to know me, Stellla. You already have my scent, and I yours.’ Then he sat astraddle her and shoved and pushed his own clothes off until expensive Armani lay as casually discarded as cheap jersey.
But when he lowered himself onto her she bit him hard on the right pec just above his nipple.
‘Ouch! You little devil, you!’ He pinned her to the bed with his knees pressing almost painfully against her biceps and examined the bite. Then he offered a throaty chuckle. ‘Marking territory are we? Well at least you had the decency not to piss on me.’ His eyes sparked like fire. ‘Two can play at that game though.’ He dropped his full weight on her and lowered his mouth to her throat just where the boney press of the trachea gave way to the soft smooth flesh of the nape and he bit hard enough to cause her to yelp, hard enough to make her eyes water, before his lips took over the effort and he suckled and nibbled the soft flesh of her until she could feel the intensity of his pull clear down to her pussy. His fingers curled tight in her hair and held her, neck exposed. The other hand found its way to the nearest breast and raked at her nipple with a rough thumb.
The sounds coming from her throat were incoherent as he brought every nerve ending in her body to tingle and rage at his attention. He forced her legs apart with his knees and dropped to rake his demanding erection against the swell and splay of her cunt, and suddenly she was struggling with every ounce of her subdued strength to position her hips to get his cock where she needed it.
He didn’t deny her. A slight shift of his hips and a grunting thrust and he was in deep and hard not easing his efforts to give her time to adjust to his thickness. She responded by wrapping her legs around him and kicking like he was a bronco and she intended to break him.
He brought his arms down the side of his body and trapped her legs for damage control, then pulled away from her throat with another painful nip. ‘Now, everyone will know that you’re mine,’ he gasped. ‘You won’t even need a collar.’
Jesus, she couldn’t believe he’d marked her right on her neck where everyone could see like she was some horny chav. She had to work on Monday. It was too damned hot to wear a high necked blouse. But even as she thought about it, the idea of wearing his mark so that everyone could see, everyone could imagine how he had fucked her, how he had subdued her made her pussy clench and gush around his thrusting cock, and she made another futile attempt to kick him. He just held her closer and thrust harder. And it was enough. Suddenly the shaking all over her body had nothing to do with nerves as she bucked and convulsed her orgasm while he rode harder until the bed shook and he stiffened and jerked his load into her gripping cunt. Then he collapsed on top of her.
After he’d managed to catch his breath, he pulled out, leaving a warm trail of sticky come on the inside of her thigh. Then he cleaned himself and began to dress. He started to put on his tie, but thought better of it and tossed it on the nightstand. ‘I have work to do,’ he said. Then he bent and kissed her cheek. ‘But you have nothing to do but lie here all wet and sticky and smelling of our sex until I get back to you.’ He settled a wet kiss onto each of her nipples, then pulled the blanket up over her. ‘And I will get back to you before we land. I’m not nearly finished with the in-flight entertainment yet.’
She never slept on planes, and yet she did this time, deeply, peacefully. At some point in the timeless void that was airline travel, she woke to find him curled around her, naked, his hard penis nestled against her arse, one large hand curved against her pubis, middle finger stretched between her folds.
‘Tino?’ She spoke his name from the muzzy-minded state of half-sleep, and felt his sleepy whisper against the back of her neck.
‘Tino’s not here. Just Vincent, and if you speak again, I’ll have to spank your little bottom, won’t I?’ He pulled her closer.
They were already on the ground when he woke her again. He was fully dressed in jeans and a jumper looking amazingly no worse for the wear. ‘Come on woman. Let’s get you dressed and out to the Jeep. We still have a couple hours drive ahead of us.’
“I loved The Pet Shop. It was so well done that I could hardly wait to turn each page. Of course the sex was delicious, but the background story, the premise of The Pet Shop, and the magic between the various characters was much more than just delicious sex. Great job bringing me something completely different to read.” 5 out of 5 Manic Readers
“The sex is smoking hot, the storyline intriguing, and the whole thing is so brilliantly written that you’ll emerge from the end gasping for breath. This book is a whirlwind of fun and naughtiness perfect for erotica fans.” – Lucy Felthouse, Erotic Author
“Full of decadent desire, sensual eroticism and hedonistic promises, Ms. Grace uses a wicked pen that enticed this reader into a world of pleasure unlike anything I have read before. The interaction between Stella and Tino is so scorching hot I practically left burn marks on the computer screen. To top it off, there are so many other erotic fantasies intertwined in this tale that this book must have hit upon everyone’s favorite desire. Whether it is male/male, male/female, male/female/male, female/male/female/female or BDSM this novel has it all. The Pet Shop is the cat’s meow!” 5 out of 5, Coffee Time Romance