Pleasure knows no bounds . . .
Gwen Hamilton is always looking for a thrill. Not even running a secret BDSM club can fulfill her true desires. It’s only when she’s backstage at a rock concert and attracts the eye—and experienced hands—of guitarist Mal Kennealy that she finds that perfect combination of danger and excitement she’s been craving. Calling herself “Excrucia,” she revels in his uncompromising dominance each night. And yet by day, he knows her only as Gwen, his new escort for public appearances.
Excrucia blows Mal’s mind with her enthusiastic submission to his harshest commands. Even though he has a reputation for never seeing the same woman twice, he can’t help being tempted by the woman willing to fulfill his every fantasy. And when Mal discovers that Gwen—the sweet arm candy designed to soften his surly public image—is really Excrucia, he never wants to let her go. Finally he can indulge his absolute power. But dancing too recklessly on the razor’s edge could cut deeper than he bargained for . . .
I wasn’t here to play demure, good-girl Gwen. I marched up to the coffee table, put my hands on my hips and announced, “They told me you like to play with fire.” I tossed my flame-red hair for emphasis.
He let his eyes travel up and down me slowly, as if he were drinking in every detail from my black lambskin boots up the fishnet stockings to my denim cutoff shorts, tank top, and fake tattoos. (Well, I had one real tattoo, but he couldn’t see that one.)
His voice was low. “The question, my dear, is whether you like to play with fire.”
“I’m game,” I said, thrusting my chin into the air.
His smile warmed slowly. “Are you? Everyday sex bores me.”
“I’m not an everyday groupie,” I answered. Well, that was certainly the truth, maybe too close to the truth? My heart rate sped up as I worried he might see through my ruse. That would be humiliating.
Just how far as you going to let this go? A little voice in the back of my head was asking. You can chicken out anytime, I told myself. I decided I’d leave as soon as he got too rough. If he grabbed me or manhandled me, I’d tell him it wasn’t my thing and walk out. That wasn’t my kink and that was the truth. Otherwise, I figured I’d play along and see what happened. Wild child, I thought to myself. Wild child.
“Lose the shorts,” he said.
I swallowed, my cheeks reddening as I realized he was about to see my underwear. My silly, peach-colored cotton underwear, not the slightest bit sexy, but I hadn’t exactly planned to show them to anyone when I’d left for the audition that day. Maybe I should just run away now…
But I wasn’t ready to yet. I didn’t want to. I put on a bit of a sneer, unbuttoned my cut-offs, and let them drop.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Cecilia Tan writes about her many passions, from erotic fantasy to baseball. Not only is she an author, but she has also edited more than fifty erotic anthologies and founded her own publishing house, Circlet Press. Her short fiction has appeared in numerous magazines and her nonfiction on baseball has been in Baseball Ink, Gotham Baseball magazine, Yankees magazine, Yankees Annual, and elsewhere. Cecilia currently resides in Cambridge, Massachusetts.