by Opal Carew
"Rusty?"
"It's been a while, since the divorce. I had a couple of one night stands, but I couldn't find what I was looking for. I decided to avoid women for a while, until I saw you. I wanted you. I took the brakes off and I guess I wasn't ready."
His eyes reflected all the wanting he was talking about. One corner of his mouth lifted, his expression brooding and sexual.
Naomi's will to resist was buckling. "I can't do this," she whispered. "I've lost sight of everything I've worked for, for years, in just two days. It's wrong…"
That's when he moved, closing in on her. "But you haven't, you explored what we might have together but you haven't comprised your vision at all. I know I'm the one who needs to compromise. I'll do it. I'll prove it to you."
On his ground he readily believed in his power to buy her, and now, here in her little shop where she sold her designs, he was just about begging her for her to open the door to a full-on relationship. She clung to her uncertainty and shook her head. "It's not going to work because the whole contract thing's tangled up in us now."
"You don't want a contract?"
"Shit, you know I do! But not like this. Lucas, stop it – I'm confused! I need to be able to separate them out in my mind, to know they aren't linked."
"Okay, I see that now. We'll set up a new appointment with Georgio. It'll be like you've never been to the agency before.
"How can I trust him…you to be completely impartial?"
"If he doesn't like your work, you don't get a contract."
That's what she needed to hear. "There are other agencies."
He pursed his lips. "That may be, but be warned, I'll still want you."
"How can you know that?"
"Because I do. Naomi, I've come all the way here because I've never met a woman I wanted the way I want you, and I don't want this to be over. I've handled it badly, but that's because I couldn't stand the idea of saying goodbye to you today, without some assurance of seeing you again... be intimate with you again. Business is engrained in me, I acted the way I always do and that was wrong."
"So you followed me up here…but you can't just force me to buckle under and tow me back to London like some chattel."
He rolled his eyes. "That's not my intention. Clarification was my main aim here. Let me prove it to you. Let me show you I can compromise to get what I want."
Naomi laughed. He was brazen about it being about getting what he wanted, even if he had to negotiate. "How do you intend to compromise?"
He scanned the room. "Have you got a webcam?"
A webcam? Was that it, he was going to keep in touch with her by webcam? Big deal. "Of course I've got a webcam," she said, with no small amount of sarcasm. "This is Scotland, not the ends of the earth. We even have high speed broadband access to the internet, imagine that."
He gave her a chastising glance. "If you have a webcam I can work from here. I'll stay for a few days to prove to you that you're wrong about my ability to change and compromise."
That shocked her.
"I'll book into a hotel nearby. In fact I can hire an office suite for the week. I'll call on you in the evenings and take you on dates, whatever you want."
She swallowed, knowing it was a huge thing to offer. "You'd do that?"
"The only disclaimer is that I have to be back in London on Friday night. I spend two weekends a month with my son. That's set in stone. Next weekend I'll be with Toby."
"Okay."
Only now that they had made an agreement did he touch her, and it wasn't what she expected. He put his hands around her waist and lifted her onto the dresser she'd been leaning up against. Then he bent and buried his face in the curve of her neck, his hands clasped around her hips. "Thank you," he whispered, "for the second chance."
Instinctively her hand went to his hair, stroking the thick black strands. A lump formed in her throat. How different this was. When she'd met him she believed nothing could ever faze this man – nothing would ever undermine or break him. Yet is seemed as if something had.
The realization of an error made, or genuine desire for her?
The way he held her and his efforts to prove himself undid the fragile wall she'd built around her heart in the few hours since she'd left him in London.
He kissed her jaw.
Oxygen became scarce.
He kissed the corner of her mouth.
Her head dropped back.
Go in with your eyes open this time. Don't let him sideline your business.
"This happened too quickly," she murmured, trying to keep her wits about her.
"Too quickly?" He slipped his hands under her knees. Parting her legs, he stepped between them. His strong hands clasped her bottom, pulling her closer still.
The thick hard rod of his erection pressed against her clit.
The weight of him there, at her apex, stole her breath away.
"Too quickly," she murmured again, while he rained kisses on her cleavage,
"You don't want me to stop," he said, and pulled her top down, baring her breasts. His teeth grazed her skin.
It wasn't a question. He was telling her what she wanted. But it was the truth.
Don't close your eyes on him.
Melting, she shoved aside the goods on the dresser and allowed him to ease her down onto it.
He kissed her cheek.
She gripped his lapels tightly, her legs wrapping around his hips. "Don't make me regret this."
Determination shone in his eyes as he looked down at her. He shook his head. "I thought I'd lost you," he whispered, and his voice was hoarse with emotion, "and I'd only just found you."
Naomi's chest tightened.
God help me, I'm in love with him.
She couldn't hold back any longer. Wrapping her hands around his head, she pulled him closer, kissing him deeply, and her eyes closed out all the doubts.
# # #
Look out for THE SELLER, part two of Lucas and Naomi's story, coming later in 2015!
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To skip directly to the next story, click here.
About Saskia Walker
Saskia Walker is an award-winning British author. Her short stories and novellas have appeared in over one hundred international anthologies including BEST WOMEN'S EROTICA, THE MAMMOTH BOOK OF BEST NEW EROTICA, SECRETS, and WICKED WORDS. Her erotica has also been featured in several international magazines including COSMO, PENTHOUSE, BUST, and SCARLET. After writing shorts for several years Saskia moved into novel-length projects.
Fascinated with seduction, Saskia loves to explore how and why we get from saying "hello" to sharing our most intimate selves in moments of extreme passion. Her novels DOUBLE DARE and RAMPANT both won Passionate Plume awards and her writing has twice been nominated for a RT Book Reviews Reviewers' Choice Award. She has lots more stories in the pipeline! Saskia lives in the north of England on the beautiful Yorkshire moors, with her real life hero, Mark, and a house full of felines.
Other Books by Saskia Walker
The Taskill Witches Series
The Harlot
The Libertine
The Jezebel
The Erogenous Zones series
Monica's Secret
Holly's Intuition
Faye's Spirit
Single Titles
The Burlington Manor Affair
Double Dare
Rampant
Reckless
Inescapable
Along for the Ride
Minding Amy
Novellas:
Sex, Lies and Bondage Tape
Mastering Meg
For
bidden
Excerpts
Here is a short excerpt from THE SELLER, book two in the Trading Hearts series:
The Seller
Saskia Walker
In her master's arms she becomes pleasure incarnate…
Lucas has traveled the length of the land to win his woman and he won't let anything stand in his way. Naomi is enthralled by his physical claim on her but she cannot sell her own dream in exchange for a decadent life as his willing submissive. Together they could be the perfect match but trading hearts is never that simple.
Excerpt
"Ready to go shopping?" Lucas asked.
Naomi laughed softly. It was such an incongruous question, especially because they were about to view bespoke bondage.
It was gone six in the evening and they were standing on a narrow cobbled pavement outside a silversmith shop. The sign on the door indicated the shop was closed. When she nodded, Lucas pressed a buzzer at the side of the door.
Naomi had often passed the little jewelry shop on foot. It was less than a half a mile from her own shop and at first glance it looked no different to any other jeweler. Did they really sell bondage gear?
A few moments later a tall guy in charcoal colored clothing unlocked the door. He had multiple piercings and a tattoo covered one side of his shaved head. The leather apron he wore over his clothes was well worn, and key chains and tools hung from his wide leather belt.
"Lucas?" the guy asked when he opened the door.
Lucas put out his hand and the silversmith shook it firmly and then ushered them inside. He smiled at Naomi in welcome. "Go through to the back," he said, while locked the door.
Naomi wondered how on earth Lucas had found the place. He seemed able to click his fingers and have anything happen. The question vanished from her mind rapidly when she entered the room at the back. Part workshop and part display area, the room was lined with display cabinets filled with intriguing items, both hanging on the walls and atop tables around the room. At the far end a workbench stood up against a wall heavily hung with tools, chains, padlocks and intriguing bits of metalwork.
"Take a good look around. I'm just tidying up." The silversmith headed to the workbench.
Lucas stood back, allowing her to lead.
Naomi smiled. He would observe her every move and reaction while she looked at the kinky items, she knew it. The thought excited her immensely.
Tentatively, she walked along the cases, her fingertips gently resting against the solid wood to ground her. The display cabinets mounted on the walls housed nipple clamps and collars. Some of the collars were metal, others leather and metal combined. Every piece was beautifully designed and made. In the table top displays she saw all manner of things, some of which she couldn't even discern the function of. The specialty appeared to be cuffs.
From the simple to the exotic there were cuffs made entirely of chain, while some were ornate fretwork set with gemstones. Others were punky black leather studded with metal. Each item she looked at triggered a deep sexual response, fuelling a series of erotic images in her mind – images of herself in bondage while Lucas took charge of her.
She glanced back at him. His watchful stare heated her from the inside out.
When she looked at the next display she drew to a halt. There in the cabinet was a pair of cuffs that harnessed her attention completely, shiny, polished metal casings for the forearms. It made her think of Joan of Arc, armor, and resilience.
"The Willing Slave," the jeweler commented when he saw the item she was looking at. "Polished stainless steel, lined with velvet."
The willing slave. How appropriate that was. She was Lucas's willing slave, no matter how much she tried to hang onto the real world. It was too tempting, the lure of the unknown, the only guarantee being immense pleasure under his command.
She stared at the forearm cuffs, imagining what it would be like to wear them. They would run from elbow to wrist. If they were latched together, as they were in the display case, she would be powerless, unable even to rattle the chain on a set of handcuffs. She imagined drawing her encased forearms up to her naked breasts, feeling the cool stainless steel against her bare skin while other parts of her were inflamed and hot from Lucas's attentions.
"Do you like them?" Lucas was there at her side.
She felt his touch on her back.
Turning to look up at him, she saw the fire in his eyes. "Do you?"
He smiled knowingly then looked over at the silversmith. "May we try these?"
The jeweler strolled over, unlatched a long key chain from his belt, and unlocked the cabinet. He lifted out the steel cuffs and pressed a release button to flip them open. Each arm was made of two pieces of metal hinged on the outside. The two panels latched together when closed. They were lined with blue velvet.
Naomi rested her forearms into the velvet lining and Lucas closed the panels, clicking them together to lock them. With effort, Naomi dragged her attention away from the look of Lucas's large male hands over her encased forearms, and met his gaze.
He nodded. It was almost imperceptible, but the agreement was there.
He lifted her entrapped hands to his lips and kissed her fingertips, first on one hand then the other. Naomi trembled. It was all there in his eyes – the heat, the promise, the desire, and the admiration.
"Are you the willing slave?" he asked.
Naomi knew what this was. This was the next level.
"Yes," she whispered. "Yes, I am."
Coming soon – available for pre-order now.
# # #
Resistor
Madelynne Ellis
Rhythm guitarist, Spook Mortensen doesn't want a second chance with sound engineer, Allegra Hutton-- not over a table, in a limo or in bed.
Sex is the last thing on Spook’s mind, or he wishes it was.
Spook Mortensen has one rule when it comes to relationships: just say no. He has his reasons. Good reasons. His policy of total abstinence has kept him out of trouble for years. Sex ought to be the last thing on his mind, but whenever go-getting sound engineer Allegra Hutton shows up, she doesn’t just hijack his libido, she downright screws with it. The only way to deal with her is to tie her up.
Alle realises she’s upsetting Spook’s rhythm, but she’s under no illusion that he’s the right top to warm her bottom.
Copyright 2015 Madelynne Ellis
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
About The Author
Go to next book
Go to previous book
Go to Table of Contents
Chapter One
Allegra Hutton stared at her image in the backstage mirror and almost wailed at her reflection. Her crazy red hair was already working its way free of its binding, so that bright frizzy copper strands stuck up at alarming angles, competing with her fascinator for attention. Her cheeks were flushed, and the same blush was making her décolletage look blotchy. Why had she agreed to do this? Where in her job description did it mention addressing monstrously large crowds full of industry insiders and A-listers? She wasn’t even a somebody within the music industry. No one spoke her name in awe, or got stars in their eyes at the prospect of meeting her. Nor was she witty enough to deliver a decent speech. She was, however, a pushy idiot who hadn’t learned when to step back.
For the most part, her eagerness to succeed and willingness to fight her corner had served her well in her chosen career as a sound engineer. Instead of being stuck digitizing old classics and mixing bippity-boppity pop aimed at seven year olds, she’d got to work with an assortment of up and coming rock bands over the last few months. Too bad she hadn’t concentrated on that and not fought for this particular assignment too. She hated being overlo
oked, but the only thing she was going to achieve tonight was making the most enormous fool of herself in front of a crowd of her peers and an entire bank of photographers.
Cameras — her brow creased into a severe frown — she never liked photographs of herself. She always looked too ungainly and big… and well… big.
They’re not interested in photographing you.
No — the press were here for the stars, not the industry worker-bees. Stars like Spook Mortensen…
And there it was; the real reason why her stomach was in knots and she was trembling so hard she’d already sloshed water down her front. He’d see her. She’d walk out there, and Spook would be in the crowd; him and the rest of his band, Black Halo. God help her, they were even nominated in the category she was announcing. What would she do if they came on stage and she had to shake hands and congratulate them?
Allegra plucked the fascinator from her hair, and released the knot she’d spent hours constructing, letting the glossy ringlets spill over her shoulders.
Be brave, is what she’d do. If she opened the envelope, and the card said Black Halo, then she’d congratulate them, deliver some air kisses and look professional.
Simple.
She would not melt all over them, or say anything stupid or inappropriate. And she definitely, definitely wouldn’t challenge Spook over why, after they’d had such a good time together, he hadn’t called her. Because honestly, why had she even allowed herself to imagine he would? Just because she’d tempted him once, didn’t mean she’d shot to the top of his dating list. It wasn’t as if he’d been desperate to dive into bed with her. Sure, stuff had happened, but most of that had been down to her insistence.
She’d pushed him too far. He’d warned her. He’d told her he couldn’t give her what she wanted. But she’d been absolutely certain that he could, so she’d kept on asking until he’d delivered.
Was it really any wonder he hadn’t called?
It might have seemed their chemistry was off the charts on her end, but Spook had countless women willing to serve his every need. Why would he choose the pushy one, the one who refused to listen or take no for an answer? He wouldn’t, quite simply, and he hadn’t. Like every other man in her life, he’d been scared off by her inability to rein herself in. Fact was; she’d always been more Amazon than nymph, curvy, rather than waif-like, and far too eager to prove she was every bit as good as her overachieving brothers.