Hurt Me So Good (29 page)

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Dear Sir, I’m Yours

Desire: Blend sinful with sweet. Whip to perfection. Don’t forget to lick the spoon…

Pink Buttercream Frosting

© 2009 Lissa Matthews

Aidn Greer is a much-sought-after Dominant in the BDSM lifestyle with an unusual problem. He hasn’t owned a submissive in more years than he cares to think about. He’s bored with unchallenging women, yet mentoring other Doms and training subs has left him cold as well. He’s craving something other than plain old vanilla—a taste of something sinfully sweet that, for once, he can really sink his teeth into.

Professional cake baker Bailey Harris wasted ten years bored to tears with her marriage, enduring a job she hated, and harboring a secret desire for something passionate, fulfilling and dark. Then she found it…in the world of BDSM. Exploring on her own brought the kind of mind-opening experiences that led her to declare her independence—and exposed a yearning to find the one Dom for whom she’s willing to kneel. Permanently.

When Aidn and Bailey meet, it’s fire and ice. Sugar and spice. And an experience that satisfies every detail of both their fantasies. Almost. While the big, beautiful sub is everything Aidn wanted, her fierce independent streak could be more of a challenge than he bargained for…

Warning: This book brings together scorching-hot counter sex, decadent pink frosting, and no-holds-barred
BDSM
play for a spanking good time. Be sure to bring an ice-cold drink along…

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Pink Buttercream Frosting:

Bailey pasted a smile on her face as she greeted her two o’clock appointment. Just because she hated all things having to do with men and romance and love and sex thanks to Mr. Slink Away Dominant, didn’t mean she couldn’t be sincerely happy for the newly engaged couple seated across the table from her. Did it? No, of course not. She was, after all, a professional.

“So, what’s the date of your wedding?”

“Valentine’s weekend,” the bride gushed, holding tightly to the arm of her very uncomfortable looking groom.

Bailey understood his pain and wanted to throw up, wanted to break her pencil and jab Barbie Bride in the eyes with the jagged ends. “Oh, isn’t that just wonderful!”

“Yes! Please tell me that you have the date open for a wedding. I just don’t know what I’d do if you’re already booked.”

“Let me check the calendar to be sure.” She flipped open her day planner and made a show of checking dates. She was open for anything, everything, and most especially Barbie’s wedding. “Yes, actually, I am still available and that gives us just about six months.”

“Oh that is just perfect. You were recommended so highly that I just had to have you and you did such a gorgeous job with my friend’s wedding cake. I knew you’d be perfect for what I want.”

Bailey was touched, this time truly touched by the kind words. “That’s a great compliment, thank you. What is your color scheme? Red and white?”

The bride beamed. “White with red and pink accents. Perfect for Valentine’s Day, don’t you think?”

Pencil snapping. Jagged ends. Deep breath. All without her smile faltering. “Absolutely. What color pink?”

“I want a really pretty shade and not anything that would clash with the red.”

That feeling of throwing up…it was back. “No, we don’t want anything to clash. I have a variety of cake flavors, do you have a preference?”

“Chocolate. That’s what you made for Angie’s wedding and it was to die for.”

“Great. Chocolate. Buttercream frosting?” Did they see the tightness around her mouth at all or was it just something Bailey was feeling as she looked at them?

“Is that what was on Angie’s cake? I want it to taste just like hers. Can you do that? Make it taste exactly like hers?”

The plea was so earnest that Bailey fought not to laugh. “I’m pretty sure it was buttercream I used on hers and yes, I can make it taste just like that.”

“Oh, good. And I want roses all over it in pink and red.”

“All right. Let me get one of my pattern books and you can see if there’s something that fits the vision you have in your head. I’ll just be a second.”

Bailey stood, walked behind the counter and knelt down, trying to compose herself, trying to get back the professionalism she was quickly losing. She didn’t know why she was losing it, except for the fact that images of Aidn kept drifting in and out of her mind. It wasn’t marriage she was seeing though, it was a collaring, which was dumb as she’d only been with him once and he’d walked away. It was just a feeling, a gut feeling, that he was the one. It was a feeling that pissed her off.

A few deep breaths later, she stood and pasted another smile on her face. She grabbed some wedding cake books and a couple of magazines and set them on the table for Barbie and Ken to begin going through. “I have some cake samples if you’d like to try them.”

“No, that’s fine. I know what the chocolate tasted like and that’s what I want. I don’t need to taste anything else,” Barbie said absently, her eyes and fingers devouring the pages of cakes in front of her. Ken simply sat there, helpless, looking even more uncomfortable in the silence that ensued. Bailey tried to give him an encouraging and kind smile but wasn’t sure she pulled it off.

“This one!”

Bailey looked at the picture that the bride was pointing to and inwardly groaned. The cake consisted of four stacked tiers, with cascades of icing roses from the top to the bottom and gum-paste petals sprinkled along the base.

“And I want alternating red and pink roses.”

“And the scattered, loose petals?”

“Can you make them white? Or would it be better if they were a color?”

“I think either would look lovely, but it’s whatever you want. It’s your big day.”

“Yes, it is,” she squealed.

“And what do you think?” Bailey asked, turning toward the still-silent groom.

“Oh he doesn’t care. He likes whatever I like.”

Sheepishly he shrugged his shoulders and nodded his head. For some reason the gesture caused a small twinge of sadness in Bailey. Her husband had been like that. Agreeing to whatever she wanted, never having much to say about anything. His nonchalant attitude about work, social plans, life and her…it was just more than she could take for the rest of her life. Now that she’d found heat and passion in a whole different personal lifestyle, she couldn’t regret having left him and striking out on her own.

She did wish things had worked out differently with Aidn though, that it had been more than just a one afternoon deal.

After filling out some paperwork and taking a deposit, Bailey walked the happy couple out and then returned to the kitchen. She needed to bake, to play. It helped her forget, to cope through tough times.

Half a bag of powdered sugar later, along with half a pound of butter, some vanilla and cream, she was feeling pretty good. Aidn hadn’t crossed her mind but three or four hundred times. Surely, that was some sort of improvement.

When the screen fades to black, all that remains is love.

Rough Cut

© 2010 Mari Carr

A
Black & White Collection
Story

Ty Ransome. Reigning king of Hollywood, producer, actor, Look Magazine’s Hottest Man Alive. He has it all—until he reads a book of short stories that touches him in places kept carefully hidden from the tabloid gossip mill. There’s only one way to meet the introverted writer—invite her to Tinseltown to work on a script. The moment he sees her, he realizes why her work haunts him. There’s something missing in his life, and it’s her.

Gwen steps off the plane with reservations. For one thing, her darkly sexual stories are hardly movie material. Then there’s Ty’s reputation as a ladies’ man. Yet she’s won over by his charm and agrees to stay on for a week to get to know him before making her decision. And as the days go by, she discovers there’s far more to Ty than a handsome face.

They eat, drink and breathe the characters in their screenplay, re-enacting scenes that delve into the BDSM realm, setting Ty free to unleash his powerful cravings and exposing Gwen’s deepest needs. Needs she set free on paper…but is not sure she’s ready to make a reality.

Warning: This title contains all the following Tinseltown essentials: explicit sex on a movie set, anal play in a mansion, BDSM with a hot movie star, capture fantasies while writing a screenplay, bondage in a limo, and, oh yeah, some graphic language—sorry about that.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
title

“Now this is the way I like to wake up,” a deep voice said beside her.

Gwen opened her eyes, briefly surprised to find her face only inches away from Ty’s. She blinked a few times to make sure she wasn’t dreaming, then their nighttime conversation drifted back through her consciousness.

“You were supposed to stay on your own side.” Her voice was gruff with sleep. As she came fully awake, she became aware of his hand lightly rubbing a bare bit of skin at her waist, beneath her T-shirt.

“So sue me.” He leaned so close to her the only air she could feel was that of his soft breath on her cheek. His hand stopped caressing her waist and instead gripped it, pulling her even closer to him.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” she whispered, despite the fact her hands were resting, unresisting, on his chest. She’d placed them there to push him away, but instead the traitorous things were exploring the rock-hard definitions of his pecs.

“I think a kiss in the morning is always a good idea.”

“Just a kiss?” She cursed her sudden breathlessness.

“Just a kiss, Gwen.” She was shocked by her disappointment until he added, “for now.”

His lips brushed hers and her body shuddered at the impact. His mouth wasn’t gentle, it wasn’t easy. He took her lips with a roughness that proclaimed his possession. He took everything she offered with her lips and tongue and demanded more. His hands drifted up to her face, engulfing her cheeks in his firm grip, turning her head exactly the way he wanted it. His teeth nipped at her lower lip and she thought for a moment she heard him growl before his tongue plunged into her mouth, tangling with hers. She’d never been kissed like this in her life and the feeling was heady. It made her dizzy, giddy, reckless and she suddenly realized she wanted more. Hell, she wanted all.

She reached up and held his face to hers, twisting her fingers in his hair. He mimicked the action with her own long tresses and she was amazed by her reaction to his rough touch. Each time he pulled her hair, the sensation of pain flowed pleasurably down her body, causing her hips to flex, searching for relief. Her body felt as if he’d set it aflame and she found her reactions shockingly animalistic.

“Harder. Pull harder,” she begged and he responded in turn. His lips trailed along her face, his rough beard scratching her sensitive skin until he reached her ear. He bit her earlobe, pulling her hair at the same time and she cried out, her hips gyrating wildly.

His hard body came over hers as he took control of her wrists, dragging them above her head and holding them firmly in place with one of his hands. She sensed he knew what his actions were doing to her as he pressed his covered cock firmly between her legs, letting her feel the proof of the desire they shared. She wanted to scream at him to take off his pants and give her what she needed, but instinctively she knew he would refuse her.

“Shhh.” He tightened his grip on her wrists while planting soft, sweet kisses on her face. “Calm down, gorgeous.”

She was panting, frustrated, and she foolishly felt as if she were on the verge of tears.

He leaned back at the sound of her soft cry, the look on his face a perfect mixture of shock, awe and naked, red-hot desire.

He smiled as she struggled to regain composure, her body screaming for relief.

“I can see there will be no such thing as innocent kisses with you,” he said.

She blinked rapidly, determined he shouldn’t see the tears threatening to fall. Christ, she was a fool.

“I-I, shit.” She struggled to free her hands. He released her and she pushed him away. He moved over easily and she realized she wouldn’t have been able to budge him if he hadn’t permitted it. She walked away from the bed, pressing her back against the wall for support.

“This is not, I mean, I don’t—” She was gasping for air and her voice and her body betrayed her, shaking uncontrollably.

He sat up slowly and she knew he was deliberately keeping his movements unhurried lest he frighten her. “Gwen, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

She wanted to laugh at the understatement of his words. He’d pulled her hair, held her down and she’d responded like a bitch in heat. He didn’t think that was wrong, weird?

“I told you before, Ty. I want us to keep our relationship professional. Sex muddies the water. You know that.”

“No, I don’t think I do. Gwen, there’s nothing wrong with admitting that we’re attracted to each other sexually. Shit, I can’t think of anything I want more than to tie your lovely body to that bed and bury myself between those hot thighs of yours.”

“Stop it! Stop saying stuff like that. It isn’t going to happen. Ever.”

He scowled at her words and rose from the bed, crossing to where she stood, trembling. “Well, I think you and I are about to have our first disagreement.”

He leaned toward her as she pressed her body flat against the wall. He caged her in, grasping her hands by the wrists once again and pressing them against the flat surface, just above her head. “You and I are most certainly going to have sex, Gwen. Hard, hot, incredibly intense sex and you’re going to love every minute of it.”

“You smug, conceited—”

“Pull your pants down,” he said as he loosened his grip.

She wanted to deny him, wanted to drive her fists against his chest and tell him to get the hell away from her, but his deep voice, his demanding words spoke to the loneliest part of her soul and she felt as if she’d been sunk neck-deep in quicksand.

“Pull them down now,” he repeated, his voice commanding. Clearly he expected her to comply. This was so wrong. God dammit, it was wrong. And yet her body felt alive for the first time ever.