By Monika Summerville
Genre: Erotic Romance
[Siren Allure:
Erotic Consensual BDSM Romance, sex toys, HEA] Riley Frost is an attorney. He
played in the BDSM community as a Dom and liked to be in control. He'd never
found a woman with a sense of adventure and passion, until one night when he
walked into a bar and... Sophie Pantagen is the vice-president of her father's
company, Pantagen Industries. For the past ten years she's spent a couple
evenings a month having one-offs with men whose names she never new. That was
until one night in a bar when Riley and Sophie find each other at a time when
both are looking for something. They're not sure what it is they want, but
think they may have found it. Sophie's father is a cut-throat business man and
when he thinks Sophie tells company secrets he comes after her with vengeance.
Pantagen Industries begins to fall apart. Sophie is fired from her position and
threatened by her father with an Edgar Allen Poe nightmare result. ** A Siren
Erotic Romance
Riley Frost walked through the
front door at Fellow’s Bar and Grill and, Ben, the bartender, waved. He nodded
and sat down on a barstool at the end. The room wasn’t overly crowed and there
were enough women in the place that he thought he’d come out on top. He hoped
to find a nice curvy woman to curl up with for the night. The noise and
laughter helped bring his tension down a notch.
Ben walked to his end and set a
glass of Loch Lomand single-malt-whiskey in front of him. It was Riley’s
favorite and the bar kept it stocked for him.
“My headache thanks you, Ben.” He
accepted the glass.
“Steven should be back from a
break shortly, Mr. Frost. Care for a game of chess?” the bartender asked. “It
would give me a chance to win back some of my losses from last month.”
“Perhaps. I’m a little on the
prowl tonight. Is it too late to get a pulled pork sandwich or something?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Riley nodded, picked up his glass
and a newspaper off the end of the bar, and walked over to an empty table.
Ben came out from behind the bar.
“We can do the sandwich. Chef wants to know if you want coleslaw, chips, or
fries?”
“Chips are fine. There’s no need
to heat up the fryer.”
“Good.” Ben smiled and went back
to the kitchen.
Riley read through the headlines
on the front page of the paper and then heard the front door open. A woman
about five-foot-ten walked in and went straight to the bar. He did a double
take and found it hard to take his eyes off of her.
She wore an emerald green,
mini-tank dress that had lace in all the right places. It hugged her hips
tightly and when she turned to the bar, he saw it had no back. The sides were
cut low under her arms and the curve of her breasts showed just enough. Her
long, brown hair would slide side to side when she moved and he thought he saw
a scar on the middle of her back. Her legs alone caused Riley’s cock to stir
and he thought he may have found his catch for the night.
An older man with dark-graying
hair walked up to her. Riley almost started to crack up laughing. The guy wore
his hair in a fluffy 80s style cut and had a walrus mustache. The woman smiled
and spoke with him. The man put his hand on her arm and she peeled it off and
shook her head.
“Woo...turn down, dude. Things
are looking very good,” Riley said to himself, and took a sip of his whiskey.
Ben brought his sandwich over and
set the plate down on the table. Riley stopped him from leaving.
“The woman at the bar, dead
center, with the green dress and brown hair, what can you tell me?”
The bartender looked over his
shoulder and nodded. “She is gorgeous, but I think she may be a professional.”
“Really?” Riley felt a bit
surprised. She looked too classy to be a hooker.
“I don’t know it for a fact, but
she comes in here every other week or so and never leaves alone.”
“Good, her drink’s on me, Ben.”
He’d never seen her before and he spent a lot of time at Fellow’s.
“I’ll see to it. She’s a
single-malt woman. May I give her some of the Lomand?”
“Very good idea.” Riley nodded
and started to eat his food.
He saw Ben walk behind the bar
and prepare the drink. The woman still spoke to the 80s throw back. The
bartender put the drink in front of her and pointed toward Riley. She looked
over her shoulder just as he slid a potato chip into his mouth. Her eyebrow
arched and she turned back to Ben and pushed the glass back at him. They
exchanged a few words and the woman picked up the drink and walked toward
Riley.
She set the glass down and leaned
over with her hand on the table. Riley had a perfect view of the tops of her
breasts and he almost lost his breath.
“I don’t accept drinks from
strangers, but thank you.” She straightened up.
“Why don’t you have a seat? I’m
Riley Frost, now we’re not strangers anymore.”
She stared at him for a moment
with caramel colored eyes and then turned back to the bar. He admired her rear
and his cock became hard as a rock, it wanted her so much. She is mine, he
thought.
As she slid onto a stool, she
motioned for Ben to bring another drink.
The other man sat next to her and
continued to make his moves. He tried to put his hand on her thigh and she
moved it.
Riley stood, finished his drink,
and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. He took a bill out and picked up
the full glass of whiskey she’d left on his table. On her left side, he moved
between her and Mr. Walrus Mustache, to crowd the guy away from her. Riley put
the cold glass against her bare back.
She sat up, leaned into his hand,
and looked at him over her shoulder. Riley didn’t look back, but flagged Ben.
He handed the bartender a one-hundred dollar bill and then leaned toward the
woman.
He moved his lips to a millimeter
from hers and whispered, “The Loch Lomand is a thousand times better than that
swill you’ve got. Have a lovely evening.” He brushed his lips over hers and let
his hand slide over her breast as he set the drink in front of her. Her nipple
felt hard as a bullet. He smiled and started toward the door.
Oh yeah, I give her less than
five minutes. She’s mine, he thought. He went out the door, turned left and
stood at the corner of the building.
[Siren Classic:
Erotic Contemporary Romantic Suspense, HEA] Turner Black works for a group in
Seattle that helps find people who were separated from loved ones for one
reason or another. He’s hired to find the half-sister of a man, Stewart Tarver.
Their shared father has passed away and left the half-sister part of a large
inheritance.
Turner finds Rae
Smith. She works as a stripper at a dance club in Tracy, California. She always
wanted to be a ballet dancer, but the death of her mother took that dream away
and Rae started to strip when she turned eighteen years of age. From one club
to another, she is happy to just survive.
Turner and Rae
are drawn to each other and, although the sex is great, she isn’t big on
commitments and doesn’t want to deal with the inheritance game. And someone
tries to kill her and then kidnaps her for sale to a slave trader in Hong Kong.
Will she be able to trust Turner?
Turner found her performance one
of the best he’d seen and this trip turned out to be worth it. She definitely
could be the Rae he’d searched for. He could see the little girl who held the
stuffed rabbit from the old picture.
He showed his investigators badge
to the bartender and explained that he needed to speak to her. The owner came
out and asked him why. All Turner told the man was that her brother looked for
her due to a death in the family.
After about a half hour, she came
out from behind the stage. Her hair was tied up in a Scrunchy and she wore
tight jeans with a pale blue cable knit sweater. Instead of the three inch
spiked heels she had on a pair of flat tennis-shoes.
She walked up to the bar alone
and sat on a stool two down from him. “Jake told me why you’re here. I think
you may have me confused with someone else. I don’t have a brother.”
“My name is Turner Black and I’ve
been hired by your half-brother, Stewart Tarver, to find you, Miss Sibley.” He
looked at her as she leaned over the counter and snagged a bottle of vodka and
a shot glass. She really was gorgeous and he admired her ass as she moved back
down to the stool. Her eyes were a light carmel color and she had a little
sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her nose.
“The name is Smith, not whatever
you just said.” She took a sip from the shot glass.
Turner took the old picture out
of his pocket. She looked at it. He watched her and saw her eyes squint. It was
a dead giveaway and he’d learned how to read people over the years.
When she sucked in a deep breath
and let it out slowly, he knew she remembered that photo.
“According to your half-brother,
this picture was one of the few times you met him and your father.” He knew by
the look in her eyes it was familiar.
She pushed it back at him. “I’m
sorry, Mr. Black. It’s not ringing any bells.”
This goddamn woman is stubborn,
Turner thought.
****
When Rae looked at the picture
she saw a little girl with a stuffed rabbit in one hand and an older boy stood
next to her and held her other hand. That stupid rabbit was the only thing she
had left of her mother and would never give it away.
“I think it does ring bells, Miss
Sibley.”
“Smith, as I said. I’m Rae
Smith.”
“Your father passed away about a
year ago and your half-brother’s looked for you since.”
“Mr. Black, I never met my father
or any brother. I’m an only child. My mother died when I was twelve. I’ve been
on my own ever since. She never said anything to me about a brother.” She
swallowed the vodka and put the lid back onto the bottle.
“Miss Smith, I know your
history.”
“You know nothing about me.” She
slid off the stool and started back to the dressing room. Grabbing her jacket
and bag, she walked out the back door of the building, rounded a corner and
there stood Mr. Black by a dark grey Toyota Prius. Good gas mileage, she
thought, arched her eyebrow and started to walk past him.
“Miss Smith, could I give you a
ride home?”
“No thanks,” she said and kept
moving down the sidewalk.
The engine started in the car and
she realized he followed her. When she got to the corner, she stopped and
looked at him.
“So, you’re a stalker and all
that other story was bullshit?” She bent at the waist and looked at him through
the window.
“No, I’m not a stalker. Can I buy
you some coffee? There is more to explain.”
She started across the street and
as he motored through, she turned left and headed another direction. Her
apartment was only a few blocks away, but if she cut through the alley, she
could go in the back way. He wouldn’t be able to follow her.
She saw a light flash in the
corner of her eye and looked over her shoulder. Her pace picked up and the
alley turned about one-hundred feet away.
“Look, what do you have to lose?
You’d be able to finally open that dance school you always wanted,” he shouted
from the car window.
Rae stopped dead in her tracks
and stared at him. There wasn’t any way possible he could know what she wanted.
[Siren Classic:
Erotic Contemporary Romance, HEA] Jarrah Hejazi is an ex-Marine, who defended
his country and now owns a security company. He's worked, but forgot to live.
On a visit with friends at Safe Haven, he meets Grace McKay and a boy named
Jonah. Haven is a place where street kids get help and feel safe. Little does
Hejazi know that within a couple of months his life will change one-hundred
percent. Grace McKay, an ex-marine, works at Haven. She'd heard the owners talk
about their friend Hejazi and when they meet, there's more she wants to know.
Hejazi and Grace surrender to their attraction and work to find the brother of
Jonah. The brother was taken by Feathertop, who gives street kids a safe place to
live and then trains them to pick pockets, rob cars and homes. Dealing with a
team member off the grid, and being chased by people who want them dead, Hejazi
and Grace have to figure a way to keep it together. ** A Siren Erotic Romance
“How did you fair, Jarrah?” Rae
asked.
“The kid beat me twenty out of
thirty games.” He looked over his shoulder. “I have some information.”
Grace followed them out of the
room and down a hallway toward the offices. He stopped and lowered his voice.
“His name is Jonah Sullivan and he’s eleven years old. He has a brother named
Jacob who’s fourteen. They were dumped at a park and ride in Reno by their
mother and after they lived on the street for a few days met some guy named
Feathertop who brought them to Sacramento.”
“Unbelievable, the kid's been
with us for six weeks and all we knew was his nickname.” Rae shook her head.
“This guy Feathertop gives them
the nicknames and insists they use them always.”
“I’ve heard of that guy. He’s
sort of like Fagin in Oliver Twist. He promises them food, safety and in
exchange they’re taught to pick pockets, steal purses and I’ve even heard
they’ve robbed some houses,” Grace said.
“I was over in Sacramento this
morning and think I may have seen his crew. We were protecting the singer
Veronda and I don’t know how many worked the crowd, but they were good.”
“Let me see what I can find out
about Jonah Sullivan.” Rae looked toward her office.
“It’s sad. I mean, to be dumped
by your mom and then his brother brought him here and told him to wait until he
came back. Poor kid.” Hejazi shook his head.
Grace now found she admired this
man’s heart. He felt for Kit.
“Turner will be here to pick me
up around five-thirty, oh and Grace will be joining us.” Rae grinned.
She wanted to crawl into the
carpet and hide. When she looked at Hejazi, he smiled.
“Great, I won’t be a third
wheel,” he said.
Grace stared at his dark eyes and
realized she couldn’t determine what color they were. They were either black or
dark brown, but they mesmerized her and when she became aware that he stared
back, she blushed.
“Rae, could I ride with you and
Mr. Black?” she asked.
“You could ride with me. I don’t
know my way around here and you can direct me,” Hejazi said before Rae could answer.
Grace smiled. “Sounds good.”
“I should go find a place to stay
the night. How about I meet you out front at five o’clock?”
“That’s fine.”
****
Hejazi found a Holiday Inn and
booked the room for the next five days. He wanted to spend some more time with
that kid, Jonah, and see if he could find out more about Feathertop. He also
wanted to get to know Grace McKay.
With his connections to the
military and feds he could easily find out about her, but decided he’d rather
get the low down direct from the source.
It was over fifteen years since
he’d been with his last girlfriend. On his first tour of duty, when he’d gone
home to Chicago for two weeks leave, his girl, Marissa, acted strange when they
met back up. After a couple of days, she’d told him that she’d fallen in love
with an insurance salesman. The news kicked him in the balls and he’d decided
to put his time and energy into the Marine Corps’ and starting his security
group. He never wanted to feel his heart tear in half again.
Fifteen years passed with a blink
of an eye and this coming October he’d turn forty years old. He’d gotten to a
point where he could monitor the business from wherever he decided to live. The
men in his group could handle the job professionally and didn’t need him to be
present all the time.
Grace McKay was a beautiful woman
and ex-military which gave them something in common. Her height caught his
attention, too. His six-foot-five build made it difficult to date smaller
women, not that he dated. The fleeting thought that he wouldn’t have to bend at
the waist to kiss Grace made him smile while he shaved. Their bodies might even
fit together nice and snug, too.
He looked at himself in the
mirror. “You’re putting your cart way before your horse, asshole. She’s
probably married,” he said to his reflection. “Or she’s involved with someone
and you won’t have a chance. You have work to do in a month and don’t need the
aggravation.”
Ian Deatherage’s past is a
shadow. He’s doesn’t make friends traveling from place to place on his
motorcycle. When it breaks down he has twenty dollars in his pocket, he’ll have
to find a job to pay for the repairs.
Kris Marcus is the owner of
The Scamp. She offers Ian a bouncer job. Ian works for a week and the
relationship between he and Kris builds and boils over into a night of hot
passion. His words to her - I don’t do gentle - turns out fine. She isn’t used
to soft touches.
Ian and Kris dance around
each other and find a hot attraction. She figures once his motorcycle is fixed
he’ll leave area and wants to protect herself. He doesn’t know committed relationships
and isn’t sure what to do.
After several weeks of
burning sex, Ian convinces Kris that he doesn’t want to leave. Will she let him
stay or watch him go?
One of her hands moved to his shoulder and her nails dug into his
skin. She felt him jerk under her and he swatted her hand away.
“You keep that up and I’ll have to put you over my knee,” he said
and then bit the tender skin on her breast and flicked the nipple. “You want to
ride me, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
The thumb on his hand kept alternating the pace and Kris realized
the power shifted. Ian now held all the cards and she didn’t mind one bit. He
could do this to her all day long.
When his hand moved away from her crotch, her eyes popped open.
“What…don’t stop.”
He palmed her breast. “I want your mouth again. Come here.” His
mouth covered hers and they both started to breathe hard. She didn’t think
she’d be able to catch her breath right for the rest of the day. His lips,
tongue and teeth devoured hers and she thought it could be the best kiss she’d
ever experienced.
Monika
Summerville is an avid reader, loves good tense movies, and works hard on her
writing. She lives in Western Washington State with her four cats, Agamemnon,
Tazmania, Jasper and Jericho.
She has written
A Risky Dance and A Lost Dance for Siren BookStrand. The third book - A Flame
Dance - is available now.
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