Delilah Devlin's Blog, page 417

Jennifer Kacey: Excerpt and Giveaway of Orgasm University

I decided to make it mighty easy this month.

All you have to do to be entered to win is leave a comment below with an answer to a question. Tell me what you first thought about the title. Been wondering what people think of it! *GRINS*

So without further adieu, I give you…Orgasm University…

Victoria’s been called frigid by every boyfriend she’s ever had. Having never gotten off during sex with even one of them probably has something to do with it. But none of them knew how broken she really is. She not only hasn’t gotten off having sex, she’s never orgasmed…ever.

Then she sees an interdepartmental memo for a university study that claims it can help with her little problem. Once she signs her name on the dotted line, Dr. Hotlidge, finds all the right buttons to push.

He’s been looking for the perfect subject for his grant study, but something’s been missing from each of the women he’s questioned so far. Everything changes when Jane Smith #129 steps into his exam room.

It’s supposed to be anonymous, clinical research and nothing more. But when he finds her inner submissive hiding just below the surface, they both find more than they bargained for.

A Romantica® BDSM erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

Excerpt –

No matter how tightly she crossed her legs she couldn’t stop the shimmy. Tiny tremors raced up from her stiletto heels, which continued to vibrate at a nervous frequency.

She tried focusing on the magazine she’d already flipped through three times, but couldn’t have told anyone in the doctor’s waiting room if she’d read Marie Claire or Horse and Hound.

Throughout the day in her office across campus she’d decided to cancel her appointment a gazillion times. The same number of times, plus one, she’d convinced herself there was no harm in coming.

Coming. That pretty much said it all, or not at all in her case.

A two-syllable word, completely absent from her sex life and the reason she sat in the non-descript tan vinyl chair waiting for her name to be called.

Jane Smith #129, at least that’s what it said on the top of her mandatory anonymous paperwork. She’d already filled out and handed back the stack of signed forms to the friendly receptionist behind the sliding glass partition.

Victoria tossed the magazine onto the glass of the metal coffee table in front of her. The multi-colored stack of pages slipped from the slick surface, landing in a puddle on a rather beautiful rectangular rug. Her aim was remarkably akin to her ability to orgasm, close, but no cigar.

She stood on shaky legs, her gray linen pants falling precisely to the top of her arched foot while she straightened her tailored white blouse.

She retrieved the offending pile of articles and advertisements, laying it safe and secure onto the low table. If only finding her “O” face were as easy, she wouldn’t have to be here. If any of the other John Hopkins department heads found out she’d signed up for this study, she’d be the laughing stock of the whole university. She could even lose her job as assistant dean of the physics department if word got out she—

A door off to the side whooshed opened and her heart lodged in her throat as a nurse said, “Jane Smith #128?”

A shy brunette maybe a few years older than her, grabbed her purse, making her way toward the woman who held the door along with a clipboard.

Victoria collapsed back into her chair, thankful she was the only woman left in the light blue-walled room. The colors were lovely, the décor probably tasteful if she could focus on anything other than her rapid pulse.

She glanced out the window, trying to calm herself. The sunset from the top floor of the graduate research building warmed her.

Being called “frigid in bed” by her last three boyfriends had really started to wear on her confidence. Something, she’d never had to deal with before, growing up in a wealthier than average household.

Nervousness was the sign of a weak mind, her late father had always told her. She never got anxious at doctor’s visits. Normally, there was no point, but her appointment with Dr. Hotlidge was as far from normal as anyone could get.

She smoothed her shoulder-length curly hair, closing her eyes, taking a deep breath.

Learning why she couldn’t orgasm was something she’d wanted to know for a long time and honestly didn’t think anyone was out there who could help her. The interdepartmental memo that crossed her desk a few weeks prior said differently. It was a memo like so many others she’d seen and tossed in the round file. But the research this study was granted money for? A spot light might as well have illuminated it from above as little kinky angels sang the Hallelujah Chorus.

They were looking for women just like her.

Ages twenty-five to forty-five, open ethnicity, healthy, with a recent check-up from a physician proclaiming them functional in every way. Well, almost.

But it’s not research on a new skin care product or a diet pill. No, this was something much more important. This was about orgasms. Well, the lack of her ability to have them during sex, or in the shower, or with toys. She batted a big fat zero at the ripe old age of thirty-three.

She almost grabbed another magazine for distraction, but an unbelievably sexy guy stepped up to the counter behind the glass partition.

He gestured toward a folder, saying something she couldn’t hear. Whether the glass was soundproof or if all the blood rushing in her ears blocked the vibrations she didn’t know.

He flipped through the contents of the folder then looked right at her.

The world paused for a few brief seconds.

Her heart pounded away in her chest and at the top juncture of her thighs. That realization alone made her look away. Tunnel vision clouded her sight because she’d stopped breathing. She took a deep breath, blinking rapidly to clear her vision. When she could see again, she stole another glance but he was gone. The same female nurse who’d been calling for patients stood in his spot.

Wondering if it was relief or disappointment running through her veins would have to be left for another day.

The locked door opened into the waiting room and by process of elimination it was her turn.

“Ms. Smith, we’re ready for you.”

After grabbing her things, she prepared to bail.

Excuses disguised as explanations swam in her head. This isn’t for me. I got called away. You can’t help. I’ll figure it out on my own.

But she surprised herself, going so far as attempting to smile at the nurse ushering her through the doorway.

Buy Links:

Orgasm University on Ellora’s Cave

Orgasm University on Amazon

Orgasm University on Barnes & Noble

The other books in the Members Only Series can be found here…

Together In Cyn

Haleigh’s Ink

A Very Menage Christmas

Duke’s Valentine

Jennifer Kacey is a wife, mother, and business owner living with her family in Texas. She sings in the shower, plays piano in her dreams, and has to have a different color of nail polish every week. The best advice she’s ever been given? Find the real you and never settle for anything less.

 

Website – http://www.jenniferkacey.com/

Facebook –

https://www.facebook.com/jennifer.kacey.7

Twitter -

https://twitter.com/JenniferKacey

Goodreads –

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6941549.Jennifer_Kacey

Pinterest – http://pinterest.com/jenniferkacey/

A Question…

Quickly… Thank you so much to everyone who bought Once is Never Enough. I’ve loved getting messages from y’all. Yes, it may be the last of the Delta Heat cop books, but I am continuing the series with the firemen. Apparently, you are all a very kinky bunch. If you’ve read the story, please consider leaving a review. I’d appreciate it very much! Now, onto the question…

My grandmother receives more non-bill mail than anyone in the house. But then, she’s the only one who actually writes letters. Without fail, she writes her sister once a week. She corresponds with old friends. (She’s 95 and her friends are elderly as well.) We offered to get her a computer and get her set up with Facebook, but she refused. A written letter is much more personal for her.

So here’s my question…

Do you write letters and/or send cards? Do you still send holiday cards?

Leigh Ellwood: Why I Write What I Write

Thanks for joining me today. Recently, I changed the bio on my website (http://www.leighellwood.com):

I am Leigh Ellwood. I write smutty stories about people who like getting naked and having sex. Some have more sex than others, some have sex with people of the same gender, some have sex with more than one person, and still others have sex with toys and things that require the use of batteries. My stories range from a few thousand words to well past 70k. The book list link above breaks everything down for you – genre, length, and other attributes. My books are available at Amazon, B&N, Smashwords, Kobo, and ARe. Really, just type my name in any bookstore site and something is bound to show up. I prefer ARe as a vendor because they rock, but feel free to buy my books anywhere you like.

I have won awards for writing, and I have received 5-star reviews. I have also received 1-star reviews and people have looked at me funny at cons and events. I enjoy reading, yoga, and rock music. I liked the 9th Doctor best. I don’t wear dresses. I won’t cut my hair or color it. I will not limit myself to one genre when it comes to writing. I write contemporary, paranormal, gay, lesbian, menage, geek, short, long, purposely funny and hilariously sad. If I never win a major award or make a list, I will live content in the fact that I have written something, and that’s the dream.

Many authors you read may specialize in a specific pairing or genre. I know authors who only write M/M or ménage, or only write paranormal or Regencies. If ever they decide to write outside the box, they’ll take on a second pen name. When I first published an erotic romance ten years ago, it never occurred to me to assign different names to different genres. I thought it would be easier to do everything as Leigh – one website, one Twitter, one blog to rule them all on release day. A decade later I look at my backlist and see the variety – gay erotic romance, lesbian romance, three and four-way sexy shorts, paranormal, contemporary, sci-fi… It’s like a game of Around the World where you drink every imported beer at the pub. I have something for everybody.

Sometimes I’ll wonder if I did myself a disservice by writing a bit of everything. Would I be a bigger success if I stuck to one pairing, one genre and kept at it? Maybe, maybe not. I do know I enjoy coming up with new stories, and if I had to use a pen name for every genre I’d go broke buying domains for each new site! Perhaps for now it’s best to stay the course. I find I write better when I write the stories I enjoy.

Speaking of, my latest release is an ARe Bestseller. Check out A DIFFERENT CLASS:

Release Date: May 9, 2014

ARe   ~   Kindle   ~   B&N   ~   Decadent Publishing

FDR High Class of 2004 graduate, Glenn Carson contacts fellow alumni to get a list of who will be attending the upcoming festivities. One call to a disgruntled former student leaves him shaken—apparently, not everyone is looking forward to the reunion. Hoping to ease his frustration, he contacts the 1Night Stand service for a relaxing and passionate encounter.

Known as “Mumbles” to former classmates, Rod Maloney would prefer to focus on the present and his successful business. However, past tragedies continue to haunt him, so he requests Madame Eve find him a man to show him a hot time and help him forget his troubles.

Will their one night together lead to a reunion after all?

Lynn Cahoon: Taking Chances

Typically, it’s the woman who jumps in with both feet to change her life, get a new job, even go back to school.   For The Bull Rider’s Keeper, I wanted to explore what happens when a bull rider decides to give up the ropes.

I’ve been where Jesse finds himself at the beginning of the book. I’d divorced my husband of eighteen years, our only son was leaving for college the next fall, and I was bored with my job.   I’d always been the good girl. After college, I accepted a full-time (secure) job with the state, one that allowed me to take care of my family when my husband decided not to work. I’d always wondered what if? Where would I have been if I’d stretched and went back east to attend college? Or hadn’t taken that summer job where I met husband number one?

The feeling of freedom to do anything was at once exhilarating and stifling.  What if I again, made the wrong choice? What if, like my ex told me often, no one would ever fall in love with me?  My confidence level was at an all-time low. So I took little risks.

Like taking off on a spring break to California to see my sister.

Or joining a dart team to learn to play.

I met new people, laughed, and for the first time in a long time, lived.  I was more than my job and my family.

Believe me, I made mistakes in those years. Some pretty big ones. My biggest downfall was trusting people who took advantage of that trust. But isn’t that part of life? To learn who you can trust?

Jesse’s learning those lessons in The Bull Rider’s Keeper. The biggest difference between our situations is he is more confident and has a strong family and friends support system. But I made it through, and, somehow, so will Jesse.

Have you ever taken a risk you regretted later?

Lynn

Buy Links:

Amazon | Nook

BIO:

Lynn Cahoon’s a multi-published author. An Idaho native, her stories focus around the depth and experience of small town life and love. Lynn’s published in Chicken Soup anthologies, explored controversial stories for the confessional magazines, short stories in Women’s World, and contemporary romantic fiction. Currently, she’s living in a small historic town on the banks of the Mississippi river where her imagination tends to wander. She lives with her husband and four fur babies.

 

Jesse Sullivan isn’t afraid of any thing, any man, or any bull. But when he decides to take a chance and carve out a life outside his rodeo career, he’s feeling like he’s walking on shaky ground. In typical Jesse style, he jumps at a chance to purchase Main Street Gallery, a Boise tradition in the art world.

Taylor DeMarco has two goals for the next year. Getting the gallery on sound financial ground to prove to her parents that she can keep her grandfather’s legacy alive is the first one. Moving out of the house and into her own condo by the Boise river, is the second. When she finds her folks are selling the gallery to Jesse, she vows to stop the sale, no hands barred.

When sparks fly between Jesse and Taylor, family gets in the way of reason, and they have to decide what is more important, their desires or keeping Main Street Gallery open and successful.

Excerpt:

Time waits for no man, and as usual, Jesse was late. Peeking in the doorway of the class that was supposed to start any minute, he breathed a sigh of relief. Professor DeMarco wasn’t there. He crossed to the next door that led to her office, knocked quickly, then burst in. “Professor DeMarco, I need to leave early today …” He stopped two steps into the room, glancing at the open door for the name plate. Right office, wrong woman. Instead of the elegant art instructor, a very curvy Venus stood in a black bra and lacy black panties, holding a privacy sheet out from her body like she didn’t quite know what to do with it.

Her eyes widened as she realized he was in the room. “Get out of here!” she shrieked. Then, realizing she still held the sheet at arm’s length, she grabbed it and pressed it against her body.

Jesse could have told her it was a lost cause. What he’d seen couldn’t be unseen and she would be haunting his dreams for a while. Instead, he cast his glance regretfully downward and turned around. “Sorry, I guess I should have waited in the hall.”

He was closing the door behind him when he heard her response.

“Neanderthal.”

Call for Submissions: In Vikings’ Arms

I posted this all over the loops, but I wanted to make sure all you

writers out there can find the information! ~DD

*~*~*~*~*~*

In Vikings’ Arms (tentative title)

Editor: Delilah Devlin

Publisher: Cleis Press

Deadline: July 15, 2014

For publication in 2015.

IN VIKINGS’ ARMS is open to all authors.

Editor/Author Delilah Devlin is looking for historically-themed stories—centered around the Northmen—for a romantic erotica anthology tentatively entitled IN VIKINGS’ ARMS: Erotic Romance for Women.

Let your fantasies run wild to a time when men wearing bear shirts and conical helms captured fierce maiden’s hearts! Don’t feel you have to restrict your imaginings to any particular era or region—dream about the Rus who served in the Byzantine Varangian Guard; the Northmen bent on plunder for wealth and slaves; Vikings who traded with civilizations as far-flung as Persia; and those intrepid men who settled northern Europe (remember, they founded the city of Dublin!), Iceland, Greenland, and even North America. A few time-travel stories may be considered. And light paranormal is also acceptable.

Delilah will be looking for stories rich in sensory detail that explore women’s forbidden desires. For example, a Viking enters a British keep seeking gold and a comely slave. The lady’s journey might lead her on a rough sea voyage in a longboat to a cold foreign land. He’s expecting a servant; she’s determined to make the best of her plight, and despite his fierce appearance and rough ways, she seduces him… Imagine what happens next…

IN VIKINGS’ ARMS will seek stories to satisfy the reader who craves the romantic idea of that hard but questing man while exploring stories set in the Dark Ages. Traditional themes/tropes can be used, but writers are encouraged to create tales that surprise. Delilah seeks unique stories from authors with strong voices, and above all, she’s looking to be seduced by tales filled with vivid imagery and passion.

Published authors with an established historical world may use that setting for their original short story.

Keeping in mind that this volume is targeted at women, the editor seeks mainly hetero stories, but will consider bisexual or lesbian encounters and polyamorous relationships. This is erotic romance, so don’t hold back on the heat. Stories can be vanilla or filled with kink, but don’t miss describing the connection between strong-willed individuals learning to trust and love one another. Keep in mind there must be a romantic element with a happy-for-now or happy-ever-after ending. Strong plots, engaging characters, and unique twists are the ultimate goal. Please no reprints. These must be original stories.

How to submit: Prepare your 2,500 to 5,000 words story in a double-spaced, Arial, 12 point, black font Word document with pages numbered (.doc, NOT.docx) OR rich text format. Indent the first line of each paragraph half an inch and double space (regular double spacing, do not add extra lines between paragraphs or do any other irregular spacing). US grammar (double quotation marks around dialogue, etc.) is required.

In your document at the top left of the page, include your legal name (and pseudonym, if applicable), mailing address, and 50 words or less bio in the third person, and send to invikingsarms@gmail.com. If you are using a pseudonym, please provide your real name and pseudonym and make it clear which one you’d like to be credited as. Authors may submit up to 2 stories. Delilah hopes to respond with decisions in November 2014. The publisher has final approval over the stories included in the manuscript.

Payment will be $50.00 USD and two copies of the published book upon publication. Contributors retain the rights to their work, although the editor requests the courtesy of authors not republishing their work until at least 6 months after the publication of this anthology.

Ms. Devlin has published over a hundred twenty stories in multiple sub-genres and lengths with Atria/Strebor, Avon, Berkley, Black Lace, Cleis Press, Ellora’s Cave, Grand Central, Kensington, Kindle, Montlake Romance, Running Press, and Samhain Publishing. In Fall 2011, she debuted her first anthology with Cleis Press, GIRLS WHO BITE. Since then, she published SHE SHIFTERS, COWBOY LUST, SMOKIN’ HOT FIREFIGHTERS, HIGH OCTANE HEROES, and COWBOY HEAT. HOT HIGHLANDERS AND WILD KNIGHTS releases in Fall 2014.

Direct any questions you have regarding your story or the submission process to Delilah at invikingsarms@gmail.com.

Questions, Questions…

Click Here to Buy!

Thanks so much to everyone who ran out and bought Once is Never Enough! And special thanks to those brave and stalwart few who read it immediately. I really appreciate your comments back to me. If you have time, would you mind posting reviews on whatever site you bought the book? Other readers will want to know about your experience. Thanks, again!!

I spent the day putting together a couple of newsletters, including my own! I hadn’t issued one since October of last year! But it’s time to get into the monthly habit. If you’re not already signed up to receive my newsletter, now’s the time. I have a very nice prize I’m giving away to one lucky subscriber. Scroll down this page and look at the left hand column. See “Newsletter”? Enter your email address there and you’ll be subscribed. And if you’d like to read the newsletter I sent out yesterday and see a picture of the prize as well as read my news, just email me. I’ll send you one.

So, in yesterday’s newsletter, I asked readers to tell me what they wanted to see from me next. I asked:

“Do you still hunger for cowboy stories? Would you like to see more Lone Star Lovers or a new series? Have you been enjoying my Delta Heat series? Are you interested in more paranormal?  Do you prefer novellas or longer novels?”

The answers have been interesting. Most folks love the cowboys, the sexy BDSM stories, and paranormals. An equal small number of respondents aren’t that into cowboys or paranormals. Only a small handful weighed in on story length, preferring novels. Many said they were eager for the spinoff series to Delta Heat that will follow the boys in the firehouse—which is a good thing, since that’s what I’m starting on next!

Would you like to weigh in on what you’d like to see next? As I told my subscribers, I read your emails. I want to write what interests me, but you can influence my choices.

Again, thanks, for your support. You make it possible for me to do this writing gig full-time. I’m not rich, but I don’t have to worry about getting any part-time jobs, either. My job is writing stories readers want to read. The fact I can do it while I’m still wearing my pajamas, is just icing on the cake.

If you didn’t enter yesterday’s contest, there’s still time. I won’t close down that drawing until tomorrow!

With a very full and grateful heart, Delilah

Once is Never Enough is here! (Contest)

Ever have a character in a book who was larger than life, who you knew would scare the crap out of you if you met him in the real world? Not because you’re afraid he’ll do you physical harm, but because he’s so intense?

Meet Mondo Acevedo. And he’s a Dom. The last man standing in his very close-knit, kinky band of brothers in blue. Readers have been asking for his story since the first of my Delta Heat books came out. It’s been a long wait. There were five other stories leading up to this one. I know you won’t mind the wait. Not once you reach THE END.

If you read the story, I hope you’ll be moved to write a review. They really do help other readers make their buying choices. Thanks!

Buy Links: Samhain | Amazon | B&N

Post a comment today, and you’ll be in the running to

win a free download of your choice of one of the prequel stories !

Here’s what the story is all about…

It’s time for this Dom to learn he may not always know what’s best.

When his four Memphis PD friends needed to let off steam, Mondo helped them all navigate the BDSM world—his world—and find the women of their dreams. Now the vice cop and La Forge Master/Dom is the last single man standing. And he’s feeling a little like the odd man out.

He’s been waiting a long time for the right woman, one strong enough to match his dark passions. A timid grade school teacher definitely doesn’t make the short list.

Sunny Boudreau was content with her rather prosaic life until a trio of lovers moves in next door. But as she gets to know them and all their friends, she’s drawn to the edge of their ménage/BDSM play. She’s tempted to take the plunge—except Mondo warns her off.

Her first taste of the club only whets her appetite and ignites her desire to prove she’s exactly the woman Mondo’s been hungering for.

Warning: BDSM play at your favorite kinky club, group play at home, some fun BDSM, girl-on-girl kissing, an orgy…the usual for our boys in blue.

Excerpt:

Sunny refused to think about what she was doing, concentrating instead on moving one foot in front of the other, despite her trepidation and embarrassment. Part of her couldn’t believe she was doing this, walking nude into a roomful of strangers. The other part clung to the sight of the man walking in front of her. Anger at how quickly he’d dismissed her commitment to this path without really knowing her fueled her forward movement.

He didn’t know how lonely she was, how out of step she was with her acquaintances at work. They had their boyfriends, had their plain vanilla sex, their ordinary lives, when she dreamed of something more. Something rare and exciting. Not until she’d met Pansy had she understood her need to explore her true nature.

Since the night she’d masturbated, knowing full well Mondo watched, she’d devoured every book she could find on BDSM and fetishes, and much of what she’d read left her feeling as though she’d only been half alive before. And now she stood on a precipice, ready to take the dive into deeper, dark waters.

And Mondo was the key. The teacher she needed. Already he was more attractive, more mysterious and dangerous than anyone she’d ever met. As a vice cop, he faced dangers at work she could only imagine. A far cry from her own job, which she loved, but which didn’t fill her need for adventure.

Her first sight of him, standing on her doorstep, had taken her breath.

Even now, wearing his collar, her breaths were so shallow she had to consciously force them to deepen or risked fainting. And wouldn’t Mondo love it if she did, proving he’d been right all along? Following Mondo out of his playroom and into the noisy, boisterous salon took an act of courage—courage she hadn’t known she possessed. Just summoning up the nerve to step inside La Forge fully dressed had taken nearly everything she had.

She didn’t like crowds, had hated lining up with the others who hoped they’d be chosen for play and instruction, on display for an entire room of barely dressed people to be eyed like they were trussed-up chickens in a meat market.

Pansy had wanted to take her shopping, to buy something sexy and appropriately subbie, but Sunny had hesitated. Sure, she’d read a lot about the lifestyle, but she wasn’t prepared to act as though she knew more than she did.

Everything she’d read had excited her, but she knew herself well enough to know she had to enter this adventure on her own terms, be completely herself, or she’d balk at the last minute from fear and embarrassment.

The fact that Mondo had managed to get her out of her clothes so quickly and striding toward the noisy room was a testament to how much she wanted him as a teacher. Or perhaps how much she wanted to prove him wrong. Anger continued to fuel her bravado.

Pansy had extolled his skills, his sensitivity, his strength. She’d told Sunny that he could push a sub farther than her pre-conceived limits—and it had to be true, because already she was naked and aroused—something any of the dozens of players turning their way to note their passage would see. Her nipples were tightly beaded, her areolas dimpled. Moisture was pooling between her legs. She hoped the dim lighting would hide the gleam between her thighs.

Shutting the others out before she lost her nerve, she kept her gaze on Mondo’s broad shoulders as he moved with purpose through the center of the room, past chairs and sofas where a dizzying array of sexual acts were occurring.

Her mouth dropped as she spotted Pansy, bent forward with Billy holding her hands to provide her balance, her pregnant belly bared, while Beau clapped his hand on her naked bottom—not harshly enough to rock her body, but her cheeks were pink, her pussy flushed and engorged—for anyone to see.

Sunny’s cheeks burned for her new friend. Taking another step, she bumped into Mondo, who turned his head and gave her a searing glance. “Sorry, Sir,” she mumbled, not able to meet his knowing gaze, because she’d been caught staring at another woman’s pussy.

“That interested you?” he asked, pointing his chin toward Pansy, whose desperate gaze met Sunny’s.

Pansy gasped at the next thudding clap and then winked.

Sunny swallowed hard, surprised at how much she envied Pansy’s predicament. Meeting Mondo’s hard gaze, she quivered inside. Sensing he’d know if she tried to give him anything less than the truth, she admitted her interest with a whispered, “Yes, Sir.”

Mondo stepped closer, forcing her head up to maintain their locked gazes. A hand slipped between her thighs, fingers gliding in the moisture coating her smooth outer labia. Shock sent a shiver straight up her spine at the intimate touch, and she nearly reached out to push his hand away.

Without any emotion in his eyes, Mondo smiled. “I’ll touch you however I want. No matter who watches.”

She nodded, but gasped a quick, “Yes, Sir,” when he pinched her swollen clit.

The urge to widen her stance, to invite further caresses warred with the chilling awareness that others watched.

Mondo gave her a long look. Everything inside her made her want to lower her gaze, to hide the longing surging up inside her. For him. For what this place offered. How much of that longing was for him specifically or for what he might be able to teach her, she wasn’t sure. But she held his gaze, braving out the tense moment.

Mondo gave a soft grunt and then glanced around them. Heads turned swiftly away at his glare.

She ducked her head, averting her gaze as she’d been instructed. She almost smiled at his irritation but firmed her lips to hide her amusement. The fact she wanted to smile when she was nude and vulnerable surprised her. She’d never done this before. Even with the few lovers she’d had, she was quick to find a robe rather than parade naked.

“I want you to watch with me tonight,” he said, his voice pitched low. “Be my shadow. When I pause, you kneel. When I move, you follow.” He trailed a finger down the side of her face. “If I caress you, you will let me see whether you feel pleasure or discomfort. Hide nothing.”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered and then wet her lips, wishing he’d kiss her again.

His sensuous, firm mouth quirked up at one side. “You are a surprise.”

Her mouth twitched. “Sir?”

“Yes, Sunny?”

“Will you make love to me tonight?”

He pulled his head back and looked down at her, his eyes narrowed as he studied her face. “I shouldn’t. You’re bold and shouldn’t be rewarded. You have a lot to learn.”

“You didn’t say you won’t.” The further narrowing of his eyes told her she’d displeased him. Quickly, before he could respond, she slowly knelt in front of him. “You paused, Sir.”

Mondo’s teeth flashed. He shook his head. “Dios, the things I want to do with you.”

1 Day to Once is Never Enough! (Contest)

Can you tell I had fun with the titles for my Delta Heat series? Five Ways ‘Til Sunday, Fournicopia, A Perfect Trifecta, Twice the Bang…and now, Once is Never Enough. I like it when I have a title that completely captures the essence of the story. It doesn’t happen all that often, but it worked this time!

I hope you enjoy the excerpt. I hope you’ve pre-ordered your copy of the last book in the series. If not, click on the cover at the right! You really don’t want to miss Mondo’s fall. One more day!

Post a comment today, and you’ll be in the running

to win a free download of Twice the Bang !

Who says it’s better to share your toys?

Delta Heat, Book 4

Beau McIntyre has had his eye on Pansy Patton for a while. But after their friends’ coming out party—where Pansy wears nothing but a sexy smile—Beau isn’t the only one jockeying for the best view of her pretty backside. Realizing it was a mistake to opt for a drawn-out seduction, Beau plans on staking his claim.

Billy Sorenson knows he’s out of his league with a submissive like Pansy, but it was lust at first sight. Now he’ll do whatever it takes to have her, even if he has to be penciled into her schedule for equal time.

A smoking-hot firefighter with ice-blue eyes, or a mysterious cop…what’s a girl to do? Pansy has the answer: refuse to choose and savor the consequences of both men pursuing her.

Doe she expect her lovers to play fair? Oh, no. She’s hoping they’ll play dirty. Real dirty…

Warning: Contains m/f/m and f/f/m scenes, paintball and other sexy ball games, flogging, and one wild orgy of pleasure.  

A low whistle sounded, followed by a sharp elbow to Beau McIntyre’s ribs.

He winced and aimed a glare at Craig. Craig’s green eyes were narrowed and glinting beneath his blond brows despite the subdued lighting at their table.

Only his buddy Craig wasn’t looking Beau’s way. He stared toward the entrance of the Emerald Tavern.

Beau followed his gaze and froze. No further explanation was necessary. The sight that greeted him had him pushing up from the table, ready to confront the couple strolling arm in arm into the bar.

“Isn’t this his night?” Mondo asked, the slight Latin inflection in his voice adding an edge to his sly amusement.

“It’s my damn bar,” Beau said, then quickly wiped the frown from his face. Beau didn’t make scenes, rarely wore his emotions where anyone else might see. But fucking hell. Of all the bars in Memphis, Billy Sorensen had to choose this one?

Beau was certain their appearance here wasn’t an accident. When Billy’s crystal-blue gaze swung toward him and narrowed, Beau recognized the challenge. Bring it on, man!

Another of his buddies, Gus, grunted. “Wow, did he just—?”

“Yep, he did,” came a feminine drawl. “Whatcha gonna do about it, Beau? Can’t let some fireboy diss you in your own damn bar.”

That last bit had Beau’s lips twitching, because it was coming from Marti, the actual owner of the bar and his buddy Jackson’s fiancée. The short sprite with a blue streak in her hair that matched her wild-child heart had attitude—all of it bad. And she’d just upped the challenge.

His gaze went straight to Pansy Patton, who seemed oblivious to the storm brewing and who had yet to spot Beau and his crew.

“Mmm-mmm,” Gus said, rearranging his large frame in his chair. “Never noticed your girl’s legs.”

“That’s because every time you’ve seen her,” Mondo murmured, “she’s been naked. Her pretty breasts take the attention away from those slender stems.”

Beau’s own gaze roamed Pansy’s slender, nicely curved legs. Pansy wasn’t any bigger than a minute, but she was perfectly proportioned—plump, but not overly large breasts, a slender waist that sloped outward to full hips that topped a lovely, lightly muscled pair of stems.

His body tightened, his cock sucking the juice from his veins to feed the pulse throbbing in his groin. The last time he’d seen Pansy, she’d had those legs parted, her hamstrings stretched as she’d reached to clasp her ankles at his command.

That had been at Craig, Jenn and Aiden’s coming-out party, the celebration the trio had hosted where they’d opened their home and the underpinnings of their unusual relationship to their closest friends.

Getting into the spirit of things that night, Beau had joined in the free-spirited antics, homing in on Pansy the moment she’d walked through the playroom door sporting only a smile. From her short blonde hair to her pink-tipped toenails, Beau’s interest had spiked past the flirtation they’d shared over the last several months.

The only fly in the ointment had been the appearance of Aiden’s firehouse buddy, Billy, who’d been quick to sidle up to her unclaimed side the moment sexy Domme, Aislinn, started whipping Gus.

Billy hadn’t seemed comfortable watching a man getting paddled. But when Pansy had been led by Mondo to the spanking bench, Billy had stood slack-jawed as Mondo coaxed silky cream and broken groans from the pint-sized Venus.

Both Billy and Beau had stood to the side, admiring the tensing of her muscles, the pink stripes on her tender flesh and the way her pussy had grown lushly wet, her channel opening as her knees inched farther and farther apart.

She’d all but begged to have her pussy spanked. Mondo had at last shown mercy, turning the paddle to push the smooth handle into her vagina, fucking her gently while he rubbed and pinched her clit.

Her orgasm had arrived with a thin, warbling scream, and he and Billy had exchanged quick hard glances before jostling each other to be the one to release her from her bonds and help her to her feet.

For the rest of the night, they’d relentlessly pursued Pansy, who at one point spread her arms, palms slamming against both men’s chests. “Enough!” she’d said, then blown at a lock of chin-length blonde hair that had fallen into her cornflower-blue eyes. “I’m flattered, but you’re both exhausting.”

Clenching his jaw and glaring at Billy, Beau had backed away. “I’m sorry, Pansy. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” she’d said in her husky little voice. “Well, at least not any more than a naked woman would be when two handsome men are hot on her tail, but a little space would be appreciated.”

Billy couldn’t seem to keep his gaze focused politely on her face, and instead ogled her breasts. “I was wondering if you could demonstrate some of the…equipment…Aiden has.” He’d cleared his throat. “I don’t understand some of the machines’ purposes.”

Pansy had eyed him and then given him a sly smile. “You’ve never seen the inside of BDSM dungeon, have you?”

The fireman’s virgin status only seemed to ramp up Pansy’s interest, which caused Beau some consternation. Before he’d thought the idea through, he found himself saying, “How about I show you both how things work…”

And good Lord, he had, showing the Swede the proper technique to paddle a tender behind. Pansy, as it turned out, wasn’t that much into pain, but she liked the noises floggers and leather made, so Beau had been more careful than he usually was, paying extra attention to every wiggle or moan, eyeing Pansy’s mouth as she’d ravaged it with her teeth. Cupping her sex—of course, only to test the success of his strokes.

Something Billy had mimicked, when he’d jockeyed to stand behind her, proving he was a quick study.

They’d played and teased, and both men had grown hard while Pansy oohed and cooed, but then she’d ultimately departed, leaving them both wondering what they’d done wrong. Because it wasn’t like the rest of the crowd was the least bit shy about their hookups.

She’d left before finding her pleasure with one of them. And worse, before either man had found his. Stuck with undeniable hard-ons, they’d stayed on opposite sides of the large salon for the rest of the evening.

Beau hadn’t been able to let her walk away. Now that he’d touched her intimately, she was never far from his thoughts. The very next night he’d turned up at the BDSM club, La Forge, seeking her out while she roamed through the crowd, an assistant manager with a keen eye for when play went a little too far.

He’d asked her out, only to discover Billy had beaten him to it.

Pansy had nibbled her lip and her gaze fell to her toes, before she’d glanced up at him from beneath thickly mascaraed eyes. “We’re not exclusive. I don’t do exclusive.”

Inside, he’d roared, a lion ready to pounce on another male lion to fight him for the right to mate. On the outside, he’d given her a cool nod. “When is your date with Billy?”

“Thursday. It’s his first day off.”

Beau had sucked in a deep breath and made his decision on the spot. “I’ll see you Friday. Here.” Then he’d turned on his heel and went straight to Mondo, who was busy tying intricate knots in a rigging supporting a male sub as he hung, his elbows tied behind his back, his chest supported, ankles ringed and his thick cock pulsing beneath him.

Beau pursed his lips, eyes narrowing on the blond in the sling. He wondered how he might trick a certain Swede into submitting to something like that. The thought of Billy suspended, completely helpless and with a ball gag keeping his comments muffled, made Beau smile. Add the picture of Beau fucking Pansy while Billy swayed helplessly above them, and he thought that particular fantasy might be just about perfect.

Beau didn’t know what it was about the guy, but he liked tweaking the fireman, getting him irritated. Billy’s irritation added a lightness to Beau’s step. Having him hard and irritated and with no way to relieve his horniness—well, that thought made Beau really happy.

This little competition they’d begun to win Pansy’s affections was the most fun he’d had in a long, long while. Not that he’d ever let another soul know it.

Especially not any of his best buds. They might think he had a thing for the fireman, and while it seemed to work for Craig, sharing his bed with a man and a woman, Beau had never crossed that line and never intended to. He just wasn’t into dick. But competing dicks?

He remembered when he and Craig had shoved up inside Marti during her initiation orgy. The sensations of rubbing dicks inside her hot, slick channel had nearly unmanned him. But he’d known his excitement was only because Marti made the sex so goddamn hot.

Jackson’s woman didn’t have any inhibitions, didn’t seem to understand there were certain rules a hetero male kept sacrosanct when he shared a woman with another guy. That little no-crossing-swords taboo hadn’t lasted long when he and Craig had been faced with the challenge of giving her something she hadn’t had before.

“Hey, buddy, are you goin’ all dewy eyed over the girl or over the Swede?” Craig whispered, leaning toward him. “I mean, I can see the attraction, but I didn’t know you swung that way.”

Beau swung his gaze to Craig. “Wha—?”

Craig’s mouth curved in a smile. “You were starin’ at him so long he gave you an eat-shit scowl and you didn’t do a thing. You falling for that dude?”

Beau aimed an eat-shit glare at Craig.

Craig raised his hands, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “I wouldn’t judge you.”

Beau grunted, his gaze following Billy and Pansy as they paused at the bar to speak with the bartender.

Marti strode up beside the couple, smiling, her head tilting back to look up into the tall Swede’s cool-blue eyes. She said something and then pointed—toward the table where Beau and his buddies sat. A table where they always sat.

“Don’t look now. Looks like Marti’s up to somethin’,” Jackson said, his tone getting a little surly.

None of his cronies were happy when Billy and Pansy allowed Marti to push them toward the table. “Look who’s here,” she said, her smile so wide a dimple dug into one cheek. “I told them not to act like strangers. We’ve all seen each other naked. Well, we haven’t seen Billy yet,” she said, giving his long, burly frame a curious glance.

“Yet? She didn’t just say that,” Jackson muttered under his breath.

Billy’s eyes were narrow chips of ice as he aimed a glance around the table. The arm wrapped around Pansy’s waist tightened until she molded against his side, a hand braced against his chest.

“Hiya,” Pansy said, her voice tight, perhaps because she couldn’t catch a full breath.

“Why don’t you both join us?” Mondo said, rising and pulling two chairs toward the table.

Before Beau knew what Mondo was up to, Pansy was seated between Beau and Billy, her wide-eyed gaze darting between both men.

Beau drew a breath that lifted his chest, marveling at the instantaneous arousal that occurred whenever she was near. He pasted on a slight smile. “Pansy, you look…nice,” he said, his voice a deep rumble.

“She’s fucking beautiful,” Billy said, his square jaw lifting.

Beau wished he had led with equally emphatic praise, but that wasn’t him. He let his gaze slide over the short sleeveless black dress that rode every lush curve of her body. Her legs were nude and smooth, a little shiny with whatever fragrant oils she’d smoothed on her pretty, creamy skin. Her pink-tipped toes glinted from open-toed silver strappy stiletto heels.

He swallowed hard, in an instant imagining her nude except for those sexy heels, and bent at the waist for him to enjoy licking the honey from her pussy.

Billy cleared his throat, drawing Beau’s gaze from those long, slender legs. The firefighter set a hand on her knee, which Pansy didn’t bother to move away.

She tipped her chin upward, her gaze slicing boldly to Beau. “I’m looking forward to tomorrow.”

Beau blinked then shot Billy a glance.

Billy frowned and his hand slid from her knee. Was he as confused as Beau?

Beau leaned toward Pansy’s ear. “Girl, what are you playing at?”

“I’m not playing,” she whispered while she gazed at him from beneath the thick black fringe of her lashes. “I told you. We’re not exclusive.”

Beau snorted. “You got a guy for every night of the week?”

She jerked back her head and glared. Then she raised her hand, cupped his jaw and gently tugged his face closer. When her lips were a breath away from his, she whispered, “I’m not seeing anyone else. Haven’t for a while. And I don’t appreciate the insinuation. Got a problem with me having two boyfriends?”

Beau swallowed hard and then slowly shook his head, wondering how she’d managed to take control so quickly.

“Don’t expect either of us to play fair.”

“Lover, I’m counting on it,” she said, a slow smile stretching across her face.

Beau’s gaze locked with her steady glare, and he started to chuckle.

Billy’s chair scraped backward, and he reached for Pansy’s hand and tugged her up. “Baby, let’s get out of here.”

Beau rose and gave Billy an even stare. “Why did you come here?”

Billy frowned.

“He wanted you to see them together.” Mondo pursed his lips as he studied Billy. “Bet he didn’t decide until he saw her in that dress.” His gaze slid slyly to Pansy. “Are you wearing panties, Pansy?”

Her cheeks flushed. “Of course not.”

Billy’s hand slipped boldly to her waist, then lower, cupping her bottom.

Pansy lifted her leg and rubbed against his thigh.

Beau’s dick jerked against his fly, and he sank his thumbs in his jeans’ front pockets and let his fingers frame his sex.

Her gaze dropped and held. She raised her thigh a couple of inches higher and tightened it against Billy.

Billy slid his hand lower.

And there in the shadowy club, a seduction began. Beau felt lazy fingers of heat tug at his crotch. He welcomed the heat, welcomed the challenge. When his friends had succumbed one by one to premarital bliss, he’d felt a little abandoned.

Now he had his own little drama, a sexual tug-of-war he was eager to explore. “See you tomorrow night,” Beau said, his voice smoky and deep.

“See ya, Beau,” Pansy said huskily with a curl of her raised fingers.

“Where are you taking her?” Billy asked.

And although they both knew he didn’t have any right to know, Beau smiled. “I’m not. We’re meeting at the club.”

Billy let out sharp gust of air and turned Pansy away from the table, apparently eager to be away.

Mondo’s long dark hair shivered around his face as he chuckled. “Do you have a plan?”

Beau gave him a rueful smile. “I was hoping you might help me with that. I have to blow her socks off. Whatever he does, I have to do better.”

“No worries there. But Pansy’s not new to the scene. She might enjoy the fact Billy isn’t well schooled. His innocence might feel refreshing.”

“For a time,” Beau said, but then he remembered how quickly Billy had taken to the flogger he’d used to lightly stroke her flanks. “Perhaps.”

“Exactly,” Mondo said, as though reading his mind. “She’s a sub. She wants a man to lead. Wants punishment, just not anything heavy handed. Even if she likes Billy well enough, she’ll still expect him to learn what she needs.”

Beau settled slowly into his seat, his gaze following Billy and Pansy but his ears tuned to what Mondo was saying.

“He’ll make missteps. He might be shy about taking charge. You will reinforce her identity each time you press her to submit. Billy won’t stand a chance. Just—” Mondo touched Beau’s shoulder, drawing his gaze, “—make sure you’re doing this for the right reasons. I like Pansy. She’s sweet. Funny. I don’t want her hurt. If she could be happy with him, and you’re not that into her, let her go.”

Beau nodded slowly. Although he wasn’t accustomed to sharing his intimate thoughts, he aimed a glance around the table. His buddies were all leaning forward to hear. “I don’t know where this is going. We’ve never even shared a bed or a full-on scene. But I can’t get her out of my head.” His gaze slid back to Mondo. “I’ll see you at La Forge. Early. And I’ll need to borrow your room.”

“What if Billy shows up early?”

Beau grinned. “So what if he does? Tomorrow’s my night.”

2 Days to Once is Never Enough! (Contest)

We’re gettin’ closer…

I can’t wait to see what you all think of Mondo’s story. Those of you who haven’t read the series, well, you don’t know him yet and don’t understand my anticipation. But there are some folks out there who’ve been waiting since book one to see my sexy Latin Dom’s story!

Just two more days!!

In the meantime, here’s another excerpt from one of the prequel books. A Perfect Trifecta was a blast to write. Aiden’s a hard-ass who needs the tender lovin’ only two lovers, one female and one male, can give him. Enjoy!

Post a comment today, and you’ll be in the running

to win a free download of A Perfect Trifecta !

Playing with pain can put you in a world of hurt…or bliss.

Playing switch in front of a La Forge BDSM club audience was supposed to be a one-time fling. A favor for a friend. Instead, when Craig Eason realizes he’s caught the attention of an enigmatic, powerful Dom across the crowded room, he senses this could be the man he’s been looking for to test the boundaries of his own sexuality.

Firefighter Aiden Byrne is a very private man with strong S&M longings he keeps in check for everyone else’s safety. His sub, Jennifer Callum, thinks she likes it rough, but he can’t let go the way he’d like to. Until one defiant stare from the handsome cop on the La Forge stage causes Aiden’s most dangerous needs to uncoil from the deepest, darkest part of his soul.

With the blessing—and active involvement—of his sub, a seduction is set in motion that ends in a scene that shakes them all to the core…

Product Warnings: Contains a powerful, burly firefighter who plans to take everything a hot cop thinks he knows about himself and send it up in smoke. Please replace the batteries in all your smoke detectors before reading this book. Contains scenes with m/m/f, m/m, spanking, flogging, restraints, and one wild orgy of pleasure.

At the sound of her feminine distress, Aiden sighed, pleased with her. Surprised, too, with how well he and Craig had worked her, together.

Every bit of pride was dashed. Her body trembled uncontrollably. Right this moment, she was beaten. Remorseful for her earlier maneuvering. A sorry now wouldn’t be remiss, but he didn’t expect it. She could barely think, she was so over-stimulated and disappointed.

Now was the time to bring her back. She wouldn’t be looking for any heavy-duty pain, just release. He could be with her the way he needed, the way that didn’t scare him. And Craig would add an extra bonus to let her know that her Dom cared enough about her upset to make it up to her in a grander way.

“Roll the bed from the corner, Craig,” he murmured to the other man, softly enough she couldn’t hear over her harsh, sobbing breaths.

Craig gave a nod. His face was flushed. His body gleaming with sweat.

Aiden had yet to use him as anything other than a helper, but he supposed it was time to reward Craig for doing everything he’d asked while managing to remain suitably dominant during his interactions with Jenn. Craig appeared to naturally glide toward dominance with a woman.

While Craig rolled the bed to the center of the room, Aiden circled the bench and knelt. He unclipped the clamps and set them aside, then unstrapped Jenn’s arms and ankles. She didn’t move. Her face was pressed into the leather upholstery. Tears smeared her cheeks.

Aiden raised a hand and cupped her head, giving her hair a caress. “Are you all right?” he asked, but he knew he hadn’t pressed too far. He waited to see whether she’d lie and berate him or snuffle some more.

She surprised him by sniffing then wiping the tears from her cheeks before turning her head to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“Do you know what you’re apologizing for?”

“For trying to top you.”

He leaned close to press his forehead against hers. “I’m not angry with you. I expect it.”

Her lips curved, slightly. “And I expect punishment.” Her wet, starred lashes fanned downward.

He kissed her temple. “You’re always free to call a halt.”

“I wouldn’t. Ever,” she said breathlessly.

So she always said. She insisted on there being no safe word between them. “Just so you know you can,” he said, speaking slowly to make sure she understood.

She gave a little nod, more of kitten’s caress that rubbed against his hand. Cute. Lord, she was beautiful. Perfect for him. Why hadn’t he fallen in love with her? His chest filled. Grew tight.

He pushed up and walked behind her. He gripped the edges of the plug and slowly pulled it free. Then he opened a drawer in the bench and pulled out a packet of wet wipes. Once he’d cleaned her, he walked to the sink and washed the plug thoroughly, drying his hands on a towel before drawing deep breaths to steady himself.

He turned and faced the two who awaited his next command. She remained lying on the bench, her fingers beside her face. Her skin flushed and gleaming with a fine sheen of sweat.

Craig stood beside the bed, his head bowed, subservient now. Not a partner. By the strength of the arousal that kept his cock erect and pointing upward, he had hopes he’d be put to service in another way.

Well, it was time, wasn’t it?

Aiden schooled his face into a neutral mask, calming his expression while he forced his body, and especially his cock, to follow suit. “Boy…undress me.”

Craig’s eyes, though lowered, glittered with excitement as he strode toward Aiden. He knelt in front of him, then indicated with a hand that he wanted Aiden’s foot.

Aiden raised his foot and placed it on Craig’s naked thigh. Craig quickly unlaced the black leather work boot and pulled it off, tugged off the sock, then indicated for the other foot.

While his new boy worked, his head bent over his task, Aiden let his gaze roam over Craig. He noted the thick blond hair, broad shoulders and lean musculature. Craig was fit with nice definition in his abs. But his movie-star good looks weren’t what drew Aiden’s attention.

It was his precise attention to detail, the tension that rolled off him, as though he held back, knowing the reward would be great. He would submit because he wanted something. Not because he desired to serve.

And Aiden wanted a crack at that. Wanted to break the other man down, knowing in his gut that at the end, Craig was the kind of sub who would only serve one person—that while he played at submission, he wasn’t truly committed. He saw everything as a game with an end—turbocharged orgasms. Something Aiden wouldn’t tolerate from a sub of his own.

Craig dropped the second boot and sock then paused. His shoulders rose around a deep inhalation as he worked up his nerve. Aiden suppressed a smile and hardened his face, waiting for the moment Craig would look up.

Which he did a moment later. His glance skated up Aiden’s body, then met with Aiden’s. Aiden raised one brow.

Challenge issued, Craig’s gaze narrowed and dropped. His hands went to the button at Aiden’s waistband. He thumbed it open, gripped the tongue of the zipper and the fabric between his hands and pulled it down, careful to avoid touching Aiden’s cock. Then, inserting his fingers inside the waist of the pants, he peeled them off.

Goose bumps prickled all over Aiden’s skin at the first touch of the backs of Craig’s fingers against the sides of his thighs. He lifted his feet one at a time to pull free of the leather, then backed away from Craig and walked toward the bed where Jenn watched through the fringe of her dark lashes.

3 Days to Once is Never Enough! (Contest)

I’ve been so busy helping out my daughter who just opened her own business in our small town that I’ve ignored my email and my own work schedule. One thing I can’t forget is that I have a new Delta Heat book releasing next Tuesday! If you haven’t already pre-ordered it, click on the cover to the right. You won’t want to  miss the last installment of this series! In the meantime, have fun with the second book in the series. And don’t you love that title? It still makes me smile.

Post a comment today, and you’ll be in the running

to win a free download of Fournicopia !

 

Forget the sugar. Send her the spice.

Delta Heat, Book 2

Gus Taggert knows a setup when he sees one. The doughnut shop his police officer buddies have sent him to, Cornucopia, is too frilly. Too pink. Then the woman behind the counter serves up a mini-lesson in submission that leaves him ready and willing to obey her order to see her tonight at La Forge BDSM club.

The large, burly cop is exactly the kind of alpha guy that newly minted Domme Aislinn Darby has been dying to tie up and spank. Yet after she puts him through his paces, she finds herself eager to let him take control—something she’s never before enjoyed with a man.

Determined to find out once and for all if she has what it takes to control a scene, she orders him up for one more go. Only this time, she intends to ensure he remembers who’s in charge. She’s even willing to offer a little bribe: accept her dictates, and his reward is her—any way he wants her.

Except when it’s time for payback, it comes with several twists she never saw coming.

Warnings: When a male sub decides to turn the tables on his pretty Domme, he calls for backup from his best friends. Contains scenes with m/m/f, m/f/m, f/f, spanking, restraints, and an orgy of pleasure no woman can resist.

Gus Taggert knew it was a cliché. A cop in a doughnut shop. The officers waiting for him to arrive for the sergeant’s morning meeting didn’t like making the run because of the inevitable roll of the eyes or smartass grin they’d get standing in line.

However, he didn’t mind being the “doughnut guy”. The plus for being the brunt of any jokes was that he ate for free. That was okay with him. He took any pointed looks or lame jokes in stride. He was an affable guy. Hard to rile.

He’d learned long ago to stifle his anger and look for the good in people, even when they messed up. Being oversized and strong, he’d always had to be more careful throwing his weight around. People could get hurt, and that wasn’t why he’d been drawn to law enforcement. He wasn’t a bully in a uniform.

Gus liked being a cop. Liked what it stood for. Loved the black uniform and the camaraderie of his brother cops. He didn’t mind that his closest buds were all moving on to bigger and better things. He liked being a beat cop. Liked patrolling the neighborhood he lived in and getting to know the people he protected.

His father had been a small-town cop, and his father before him had been the sheriff of their little Arkansas berg. But then his mom had moved to Memphis—not because she’d wanted to, but because when his mom and dad divorced, she’d wanted to start fresh where everyone didn’t know her business and didn’t whisper to her ex about who she was seeing next.

Gus had missed his old school and friends, but had a natural gift for making new ones. That he was big and brawny, quick on his feet despite his size, had made him a natural for the football team.

And that’s where he’d met Jackson Teague and Craig Eason, who surprisingly enough, wanted to be cops too when they graduated.

They’d all gone to college together, applied for the police academy and been accepted. That’s where they’d met the remaining members of their current posse, Beau McIntyre and Mondo Acevedo.

So, Gus was never lonely. He had his peeps, a job he loved, a city that kept him on his toes. And today, he was on his way to explore a new doughnut shop.

Mondo, although now in vice and no longer attending the station-house morning meetings, had given him a roll of bills the night before. “Treat the guys to doughnuts. On me.”

Gus had glanced at the roll. “This is too much.”

“Not for the place I want you to go.”

He should have known from the gleam in Mondo’s dark brown eyes that something was up, but Gus liked to think the best of people. Maybe Mondo really did just want to treat the guys to something special.

Well, it was special all right. Not like any doughnut shop Gus had ever seen before. He stood on the street in front of the small store front, eyeing the painted glass window with its pink awning, and felt the first rumbles of misgiving.

Cornucopia. He’d had to Google it last night to get the address and to see what the name meant. A horn of plenty. A familiar Thanksgiving ornament. But there weren’t ears of corn or squashes spilling from the dark pink horn painted on the glass. Doughnuts looking like Christmas presents, painted with ribbons and sparkling with stars, spilled from the mouth of the horn.

All the pink and frothy cuteness made him itch. However, he’d been given a wad of cash and a mission to buy a couple dozen doughnuts from this specific shop. For once, his cheeks burned at the idea.

Hitching up his utility belt, he blew out a deep breath that billowed his cheeks and pushed the glass door. A bell at the top tinkled.

Inside, the shop was pretty much what he’d expected—pale purple tiled flooring, white-painted iron bistro tables, boxes decorated in frou-frou paper and ribbons stacked at one end of the sparkling clean glass-front counter.

Thankfully, the shop was empty. Maybe he could back out, say it’d been closed when he came by, and he could hit a Dunkin Donuts on the way to the station house.

As soon as he’d made up his mind to leave, he heard a stirring from the back, and rather than be caught with one foot still on the sidewalk outside like he was scared to come inside, he stepped through the door and held the bell so it didn’t chime again.

“Have a thing for bells?” came a husky feminine voice.

His gaze darted back to the counter, his cheeks filling with heat. A woman stood there, every bit as pretty and dainty as her little shop, with dark red hair, pale-as-dinner-china white cheeks and large brown eyes. The kind of woman he avoided like the plague because he always felt like a lumbering bear beside them.

What had she asked? Oh, yeah, the bells. He didn’t have a thing for them, he’d only wanted to be quiet and not charge into the place like a bull in a china shop. “No, ma’am.”

“That’s a nice start,” she said, her voice dropping again into a sexy, shivering whisper.

Gus’s cheeks burned hotter, because he knew she’d just made a joke and he didn’t understand it. Further, meeting her amused gaze proved surprisingly difficult. He had the urge to duck his head. To wait for permission to come closer.

Her amusement faded. “Come in, officer,” she said with brisk efficiency. “Can I help you with something?”

He cleared his throat, scuffed his boots on the doormat, like that was why he’d paused coming in, and stepped deeper inside the shop. “I’m just here to buy some doughnuts.”

“I don’t sell just doughnuts.” Her voice sharpened.

Had he insulted her somehow? He came closer to the counter. “They’re pretty doughnuts.”

“I’m a trained pastry chef. These are gourmet doughnuts.”

Like he’d said, they were pretty, but he didn’t get what it was she expected him to say. He thrust his hand into his pocket and took out the roll of bills Mondo had given him. “Mondo said you’d fix me up.”

“Mondo…” Her eyes sparkled for a moment, then narrowed. “Show me which you’re interested in.”

He reached out to point at one confection sitting on a tray atop the glass counter. The doughnut looked more like a pretty cupcake and was covered in glaze with star-shaped silver beads glinting on the top. “Some of these?”

Her hand shot out and slapped the top of his. Not hard, but the loud crack it made startled him. “Ma’am?” he asked, startled she’d dared smack an officer of the law.

“Correct response again,” she said, an edge to her sexy voice. “However, I think you need to come around the counter and make your selection.”

Right about now, he knew his face was beet red. And the collar of his shirt was tightening like a noose, cutting off his air. “Beg your pardon?”

“Come. Now.”

His body reacted to the firm tone with an instant surge of heat straight to his groin. With his balls drawing up, he thought he might embarrass himself further if he got too close to the pretty pastry chef. “Uh, a couple dozen’s all I need,” he said swiftly. “Whatever you want to put into a box.”

The redhead narrowed her eyes. “Mondo’s a friend of mine. He said he was sending me someone special. Don’t disappoint me.”

Mondo was her friend. The way she’d emphasized the word put this strange conversation in a new perspective. Her tone, the hardening glint in her pretty eyes, the stubborn tilt of her chin—good Lord, she was that kind of friend, someone from Mondo’s club, which Gus had visited a time or two out of curiosity first, then growing wonder.

He swallowed hard, beginning to sweat, then slowly made his way around the glass-front counter toward her, seeing the rest of her lovely, slim frame. When he stood a couple feet away, he ducked his head, dropping his gaze. Waiting now, for what he didn’t know, but he knew instinctively she was pleased, because she sighed.

“You’re bigger than I expected.”

Oh hell, what was she looking at? Had his erection become noticeable?

“And you’re better looking.”

He gave a little smile, letting her see it, but still not raising his glance. The parts of her he could watch were fascinating anyway. Her breasts were small but round, and the tips were beginning to poke through her pink-buttoned blouse and lacy bra. Her pale trousers were cinched at the waist with a white leather belt, and it was a tiny trim waist that offset the feminine flare of her hips. Legs proportionate with her body stretched below to pink-tipped toes that peeked out of sandals she wore. His mouth filled with drool. He’d give a week’s wages for the privilege of sucking on them.

She slid open the door to the back of the counter and waved for him to have a look.

Gus wished like hell she’d move back, because standing this close, he got a whiff of her light, floral scent. Beads of sweat popped on his forehead.

Feeling clumsier by the minute, he bent to glance inside the shelves at the array of fancy doughnuts. Sheesh. Not a single plain glazed one. The guys were going to razz the hell out of him.

Suddenly, she stepped behind him, her hands landing on either side of the cabinet to trap him.

He gulped hard. “Ma’am?”

A knee climbed along the inside of one of his thighs, then snuggled against his balls. He froze—blood surged south, filling his cock. Then she slid her knee down and tapped his feet with one of hers, urging him silently to widen his stance.

Which he did. No question or quick denial came to mind. He braced his hands against the glass like a perp ready for a pat-down, dreading and yet eager for whatever she’d do next.

Her hand cupped his balls. “Anything you like?”

Afraid he’d bleat like a goat if he tried to answer, he nodded.

Her fingers closed around his sac, and she gave him a gentle tug. “Me too.”

Then just as quickly, her hand fell away and she moved back.

Gus pushed from the counter and turned.

Her eyes were softer, her expression pleased. She laid a palm against the side of his face. Her thumb stroked his bottom lip. Her gaze dipped to his name tag then back up again. “When I see you next, Officer Taggert,” she whispered, stepping closer, “don’t say a word. Take off your clothes and be ready for whatever I want next.”