Sweet Temptation: A Club Temptation Novella (Club Temptation Collection)

by Jen Talty

  Those two things were not her intention. Her blog was meant to help people. To give them something to relate to and help empower them to take charge of their lives and their sexuality.

  She wanted her readers to own their bodies. Their souls. Their personalities.

  Not to feel shame for being true to themselves, no matter their life choices.

  While her blog felt more geared towards women, it was meant for everyone. She wholeheartedly believed that men could get just as much from reading her blog as females could. Yet, even with that, it didn’t matter to her if a woman wanted to be a stay-at-home mom or a career woman who never had the desire to get married or have children. She wanted to empower women to embrace the choices men took for granted.

  She flipped open her laptop and poised her fingers over the keyboard.

  First, I want to apologize for being so quiet this week. I had an experience that required much reflection—of both my current life and my past. For the last six months, I have been writing to you nearly two to three times a week about how to take charge of your life, both sexually and otherwise.

  And yet, I haven’t been able to do that with mine.

  You see, I’ve been hiding behind my anonymity.

  And my pain.

  And not just with being a plus-sized woman—because I truly do love my body. When I look in the mirror, I see a sexy redhead with a lot of fire and passion. However, I allowed the world to steal my thunder. I let the voices from my childhood tear me down. I let the looks and stares from others when I was on the beach in a two-piece make me want to cover up.

  Not for me.

  But because my extra rolls make them uncomfortable.

  No matter how many times I hit the reset button, I see the beautiful woman I am, both inside and out. I can’t let a negative comment or two on my blog—or elsewhere for that matter—meant to ‘motivate’ me to lose weight be the defining moment in my life anymore. I did that before, and I almost died to achieve and maintain that. It can’t define me any longer.

  And neither should it with any of you.

  Sure. I know there’s a fine line between being in denial about one’s weight and being active, healthy, and eating right.

  I just choose not to deny myself life’s simple pleasures.

  I like my wine.

  Cheers.

  I like my cake.

  And I eat it, too.

  Everything in moderation.

  I’m proud of who I am, and yet, part of me is ashamed. Why? Because of some life choices that made me feel like a fraud. And if I’m going to help you navigate the path to loving yourself, your relationships, and your sexuality, then I have to be open and honest with you.

  So, I’m going to start with my identity.

  I’m not Dew. My name is Dixie Gaynor, and I’m a relationship therapist. I have a private practice and have been working in this capacity for three years. I have a doctorate in Psychology and decided to specialize in relationships because I come from a broken home.

  She reached over her computer and snagged her wine, downing half of it. Her mentor would have a field day with her revelation.

  If she only knew half of what Dixie was about to admit.

  Oddly enough, I became involved with a married man. Yes. I know. That is a terrible thing to do. In my defense, I didn’t know he was married. But when I found out, I didn’t end the relationship. I fell for the old ‘I’m going to leave my wife for you’ line.

  Something to this day I wish I hadn’t done.

  But I can’t go back and change it. I can only learn from it and use how it’s affected me going forward. And, truth be told, I’ve allowed it to keep me from being…me. I used it to keep myself in a cycle of self-pity and self-hatred.

  Which brings me to sex and sexuality.

  Before I allowed myself to be in a relationship that all but stole my voice as a woman, I had been searching for the kind of man who would build me up. One who would respect me and want to share my hopes and dreams.

  And my sexual desires.

  Last week, I had a sexual experience that was not only totally unexpected but also something that I would never do yet had fantasized about before. The problem is, I took off after, and haven’t spoken with the man since.

  Something I need to rectify.

  I got in over my head, and while I don’t regret what happened, I do regret running out. Sex, even if it’s a one-night stand or with a stranger is nothing to be ashamed of, as long as it’s consensual and what you both want.

  No matter what you are into, even if it’s being submissive, or a Dom/Domme, or watching others have sex, or just plain bland style, if it’s what you and your partner enjoy, then it’s the most beautiful and perfect thing in the world.

  The key is to be comfortable with yourself.

  And your partner.

  You need to share with your lover what you desire. If you can’t do that, then do you want to be in that relationship?

  On that note, this blog is taking a slight shift. I will still continue with tips regarding relationships and sexuality, but I will be sharing with you my own personal journey, as well.

  If I ever have one.

  Being single and plus-sized is difficult.

  Men don’t see me the same way they see a girl who is a size six. I hate to say that, but it’s true.

  Granted, the gentleman I had this wicked experience with a few days ago didn’t seem to mind my body, but I must come clean.

  He didn’t see me naked.

  He got a hand job.

  That was all.

  It was a really wicked one that left us both breathless, and the circumstances were hot and sexy and like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. It scared me in part because I felt connected to him in such an intimate way, yet I’d just met him.

  I hope he felt the same way about me, but I don’t know. And I won’t know unless I do something about it.

  That’s the hard part about all of this.

  I’m going to put myself out there and see if he’s interested in something more. If not, well, you’ll be the first to know. If he is, again, you’ll be the first to know.

  Stay dewy.

  Dixie.

  She uploaded a picture of herself in the yellow dress she’d worn the night she went to Club Temptation.

  Without filters.

  Before she could think twice, she hit publish.

  It was a good post. Real. Honest.

  She leaned back, raised her glass, and smiled. “Bring on the trolls.” She laughed. Of course, there would be negative comments. She’d always gotten them. Her philosophy had been that she didn’t exist if she didn’t have haters. But she worried maybe she’d gone too far.

  “Hey, Siri. Call Nic Montgomery.”

  The cell rang twice.

  “Hey, girl, what’s up?”

  “I posted on the blog,” Dixie said. “I want you to read it.”

  “Okay. Hang on.”

  A long silence filled the night air. Dixie closed her laptop and leaned back on her chaise lounge, gazing at the millions of stars filling the cloudless sky.

  A rare evening in Seattle.

  “Holy shit,” Nic exclaimed. “You little dominatrix. Why didn’t you call me?”

  “Because I needed some time to sort through my feelings. I’m not a dominatrix, and I sure as shit don’t want a submissive man in bed. At least not all the time.”

  “Only some of the time?” Nic asked with amusement. “So, who was the hand job man?”

  “I’m not telling you that,” Dixie said. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go poking—”

  “I can’t believe you’d even think I would,” Nic said. “I’m just glad you enjoyed yourself.”

  Dixie let out a short laugh.

  “You did enjoy yourself, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, I did. But there are consequences.”

  “Do you like this man?” Nic asked.

  “I don’t even know him.”


  “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I didn’t know Matt the first time. But I trusted my instincts, and look at us now.”

  “That does help.” Dixie let out a long breath. No way in hell did she regret what she’d done with Zane. She’d been taken by surprise, but never in her life had she felt so in control and powerful. She knew without a doubt that he’d loved every second, too. He would have done anything she’d asked in that moment.

  Within reason.

  But the best part was that he’d wanted exactly what she’d given him. He’d craved it. Desired it. Right then, in that space and time, it was the perfect sexual encounter for both of them.

  Mutually gratifying.

  She needed nothing in return, only it would have been nice if she’d had the wherewithal to stick around and finish her drink and maybe have a normal conversation to complete the fantasy.

  “Then what’s the problem?” Nic asked.

  “Me. I’ve been lying to my readers. More importantly, I’ve been lying to myself.” She glanced at the time. Thirty minutes before Zane showed up. “I’ve been afraid to really put myself out there and live my life. It was easy to stick with Jeff, a married man, who would never truly be with me. Love me for me. It was safe. This? Taking a risk with this guy I just met? Scary as hell. I mean, he’s like no man I’ve ever dated. Besides being a nice guy, his body is like a Greek god’s. But I still have that little voice in the back of my head that says: You’re too fat. He’s not going to like to see you out of your clothes.”

  “That’s your mother’s voice.”

  “Doesn’t matter. It’s there. But I’m going to get rid of it once and for all.” And Zane would help her do it. “I’ve got to get going, Nic. I have a date.”

  “You go, girl. Let me know how it works out.”

  “Will do.” Now, all she had to do was figure out what to wear so she didn’t look like she planned to seduce the man.

  But that she’d be open to the idea.

  Chapter 4

  Zane bent over and tugged at the ponytail holder, letting his long hair bounce to his shoulders. He ran his fingers through the wavy locks. He’d always thought his hair was one of his better assets.

  Satisfied that he looked halfway decent, he snagged the bag of groceries from the back of his Harley and made his way down the walkway, impressed by her stylish abode. She obviously did well for herself in her career.

  Nothing was sexier than a successful woman who took charge of her life.

  A slight breeze kicked in, bringing with it the salty scent of Seattle. A layer of mist filled the air as low-hanging clouds descended from the sky. Most people hated living in Seattle because of the dark, chilly days, but it was this very ambiance that made Zane’s heart beat a little faster. He raised his hand and rapped his knuckles three times against the blue door with its small hanging basket of flowers, the blooms greeting her guests with an array of spring scents that tickled his nose and brought a smile to his soul.

  That seemed so like something Dixie would do.

  He inhaled sharply, preparing himself for the onslaught of sexual tension that had already begun to build, starting in his toes and slowly crawling up his skin, leaving a scorching trail of tingling heat in its wake.

  The door swung open, and there stood Dixie in a pair of jeans and a floral, strapless top that flowed down to the middle of her thighs.

  He swallowed, trying to keep the air in his lungs.

  Once again, she stole his breath.

  “You look stunning,” he managed.

  “Thank you.”

  He reached out and lifted a strand of her wavy hair from her shoulder. “I love this color.”

  “It’s not natural.”

  He smiled. “I don’t care. It’s beautiful on you.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek, letting his lips linger as he inhaled the scent of her sweet strawberry shampoo. He cupped the back of her neck before running his hand over her shoulder and down her arm. “Though now I’m curious, what is your natural color?”

  “I’m a redhead, just more of a light red, not this bright copper.” She glanced up at him and blinked. She couldn’t be taller then five-five, giving him a good nine inches on her, though when he’d seen her last, she’d been wearing heels.

  Tonight, she was barefoot.

  He liked that.

  Taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger, he pressed his mouth to hers, slipping his tongue between her plump, rosy lips. He pulled her tight to his chest, deepening the kiss. He wanted to take her right here in the hallway. Slam her against the wall and rip her pants to her ankles, ramming himself deep inside, making her gasp for air.

  He broke off the kiss and took a step back. Before he took things to the next level, he needed to find out why she’d run off the other night. He held up the bag. “Where’s the grill? I’ve got some prime steaks to cook up for us.” He smiled. “And some wine that needs opening.”

  She took the bottle. “Follow me.”

  “Hmmmmm. Gladly.” He tucked one side of his hair behind his ear and stared shamelessly at her round ass as she led him through the family room, the kitchen, and finally out onto the back patio that overlooked Lake Washington.

  However, the only thing he saw was Dixie.

  He hadn’t noticed anything else.

  She turned and leaned against the railing. The sun tried to peek through the haze, but it was halfway behind the mountains anyway. Soon, it would be dark, and the pitch-black sky would cast the eerie canopy Seattle was notorious for, blocking the stars and making it impossible for the moonlight to punch through the clouds.

  But the sound of the water gently lapping at the shore and the soft lighting from inside was all they needed to create a sexy and romantic atmosphere.

  He set the bag of groceries down on the side of the grill and caught her gaze. “I’m glad you finally called.” He fired up the cooking apparatus and began preparing both the meat and the veggies he’d brought.

  “I’m sorry it took me so long. I could say I was busy with work, but that would only be an excuse.”

  “It’s okay. I just wish you hadn’t run out the way you did. Especially after what happened.”

  “Me, too,” she said.

  “Can I ask why? Did I do something wrong? Because I thought it was amazing and wicked, though I wouldn’t want you to think that I introduce every woman to the club like that. Actually, if anyone found out, I could get fired.”

  “Well, I won’t tell anyone.” She took a corkscrew and worked on the wine bottle, twisting and turning. It only served as a reminder of the other night.

  “It’s important to me that you know I’ve never been with a woman who’s been to the club.” Zane closed the lid to the grill and took the glass she offered. He studied her as he took a few slow sips of the full-bodied cabernet. It was one of his favorite blends, yet it was under thirty dollars a bottle.

  “I hope you don’t find me rude, but that’s hard to believe, considering how easily it happened.”

  “Only because I find you completely irresistible.” He lowered his chin and arched a brow. “I’m finding it difficult to stay over here by the grill and cook the food when what I really want to do is get you out of those jeans and return the favor.”

  She waggled her finger. “Using the word favor just pushed you back into the friend zone.”

  He tapped his chest. “Ouch. Why?”

  “Giving you an orgasm shouldn’t be considered a favor just because I didn’t have one. Would you expect me to return the favor?”

  “Ah, I see. We’re going to play the semantics game.” He tossed his head back and laughed. “If I’d said I wanted to make you come like you’ve never come before, would that be acceptable?”

  She held her wine glass near her full breasts and nodded as she swallowed. “Sex shouldn’t be tit for tat.”

  “No. But I wouldn’t want you feeling anything but fully satisfied. Did you feel that way when you ran out of Club Temptati
on?”

  She shook her head. “But not because I wanted more than what happened. I didn’t. Honestly, that was the fantasy.”

  “You’ve daydreamed about watching bondage and jerking someone off?”

  She nodded. “Not necessarily bondage or in a club. But watching someone have sex while giving a man a hand job, yes. Only my fantasy ended with dinner.” She laughed. “I mean. Finger-licking, normal conversation, and bread breaking. Unfortunately, I freaked out.”

  “Why?”

  “I felt like I took advantage of you. And then I just didn’t know what to say. I don’t normally behave like that.”

  “Trust me. If I didn’t want you to do that, I would have stopped you.” He quickly lifted the grill cover and poked at the steaks, flipping them and adding the foil package of asparagus. “I think it was exactly like you to do what you did. You’ve just never taken control of your sexuality.”

  She raised her glass. “You have no idea how funny that is.”

  “Enlighten me.”

  “I’m a relationship counselor, and one of the things I specialize in is helping couples take control of their sex lives.”

  “Always easier to talk about it than to implement it in your own life.” He didn’t like how she danced around the core issue and avoided what really bothered her. Until she was willing to put it out there, it would always be something between her and any man she got involved with—only he planned to do his best to make sure he was her last stop. “So, you’re really not embarrassed or ashamed by what happened between us?”

  Her pretty little cheeks flushed red. “I wish I could say I wasn’t at all, but part of me is a little.”

  He closed the gap between them and wrapped his arms around her, heaving her against his chest. He cupped her face, brushing his thumb across her cheek. “It was one of the most incredible experiences I’ve ever had. You left me breathless and speechless.” He took her hand, placing her index finger on his lower lip before sucking it into his mouth. He let out a guttural moan. “When you licked your fingers with me still on them, I lost all ability to think straight. And then you were gone.”