Michele Zurlo
Awakenings 5
Letting Go 2: Stepping Stones
Sabrina Spencer has it all—a loving husband, two wonderful children, and a successful career. So why does her husband think she's not as happy as she could be? Jonas knows that Sabrina should love her life, but as the stress of "having it all" wears on her, he knows he has to do something. Surprising her with a trip to Elysium, a kinkster's paradise, for their fifth anniversary seems like the perfect thing.
From the beginning, this trip seems doomed. First she rejects the gift. When he finally gets her there and she agrees to spend five days as his complete submissive, he thinks he can finally show her how she can truly have it all. At first Sabrina enjoys submitting to the man she loves, but when it becomes too much and she shuts down, Jonas must use everything in his arsenal to break through to the woman who holds the keys to his heart.
Genre:
BDSM, Contemporary
Length:
80,088 words
Awakenings 5
Michele Zurlo
EROTIC ROMANCE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance
LETTING GO 2: STEPPING STONES
E-book ISBN:
978-1-62241-641-7
First E-book Publication: October 2012
Cover design by Christine Kirchoff
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
If you have purchased this copy of
Letting Go 2: Stepping Stones
by Michele Zurlo from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.
Regarding E-book Piracy
This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.
The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.
This is Michele Zurlo’s livelihood.
It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Zurlo’s right to earn a living from her work.
Amanda Hilton, Publisher
This is dedicated to everyone who sent emails and posted on my FB page asking for more Sabrina and Jonas. Without your encouragement (and some outright begging) this story would not have been written.
I especially want to thank Becca for her thoughtful e-mails/discussion and helpful critiques. And yes, the Samantha part was written for you.
Last, but not least, I want to thank my family. Without your support and understanding, none of this would have been possible.
Note to readers: Though this sequel stands alone as a story, I highly recommend reading
Letting Go
before reading
Stepping Stones
. If possible, also read
Hanging On
and
Two Masters for Samantha
. You will find
Stepping Stones
a richer, more rewarding read if you’re already acquainted with each character’s “how we got together” story.
LETTING GO 2: STEPPING STONES
Awakenings 5
MICHELE ZURLO
Copyright © 2012
Sabrina peeked out the window of her breakfast nook. In the distance, past the deck, the trellis bursting with tangerine and white roses, and a large expanse of lawn, the sun glinted on the water, beckoning her closer.
With the kids at her in-laws for the afternoon, she had some free time, and it had been a few days since she’d been able to get in a good, punishing workout in the water. She opted for a bikini—the hot-as-hell pool boy was due sometime today—grabbed a towel, and rushed to the pool.
As she got closer, she noticed the man with a long pole stuck into the water, and she slowed her pace. Too late. Now she would have to wait for the pool boy to finish cleaning it before she could swim.
With a sigh, she heaved herself onto a lounger and sent a baleful look in his direction. He wasn’t supposed to show up until later, after she’d worked out. She had plans to pull herself, dripping wet, out of the water, throwing her hair back so that the sun caught some of the highlights. She’d squeeze away the excess, letting it drip over her breasts to draw his gaze to the gentle swells there.
He’d ruined everything by showing up early. There was so little variety in her life. She spent most of the day looking after her one- and three-year-olds, and the chance to put herself on display to torment the pool boy was one opportunity she hated missing. While her afternoon wouldn’t be completely ruined, she did prefer to do things her way.
After all, a girl had to have fun, right? Her husband worked long hours and traveled all the time, so she had to get her kicks however she could.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Spencer.” He grinned at her from across the pool.
He wasn’t wearing a shirt. She spent some time admiring the way his lithe, lean muscles bunched and strained as he methodically worked his way toward the far end of the pool. The tan darkening his skin testified to many hours spent under the punishing rays of the sun.
Her gaze traveled lower, taking in the way his shorts hung low on his hips. Too low. One tug and she’d catch an eyeful. The hipbones jutting forward were tanned as well. It made her wonder if his gorgeous ass enjoyed the same freedom.
“Armand, I thought I told you to not wear those shorts anymore. They’re positively scandalous.” She spoke to him in a tone that managed to be both haughty and lazy. “And put a shirt on. My husband will not look kindly upon you if he sees you walking around here almost naked.”
He didn’t respond. Nothing in the set of his shoulders or the tilt of his mouth gave her a hint as to his reaction, but she knew he had one. She knew he’d heard her. He hadn’t stopped looking at her for a single second.
After forever, he extracted the vacuum from the pool and set it on the concrete patio. Ever so slowly, he rounded the pool, not stopping until his shadow loomed over her. This close, she could see the danger glittering from his olive-green eyes. They were hazel normally, but they tended toward green under most circumstances. When he was feeling amorous, they often turned topaz.
“Mrs. Spencer, your husband is half a world away. And you know as well as I do that you like when I wear these shorts. You think they’re sexy. After all, you bought them for me.” Like a cobra, his hand shot out. He caught the end of the string tied behind her neck to hold up her bikini top, and he tugged.
She felt the small pop that indicated it was no longer tied. She knew she should put her hands over the fabric to shield herself before he peeled the scrap of material away, but she was paralyzed by the hard expression on his face. The planes and angles that made up his face were what some might call handsome. She might think it, but she knew better than to say it to his face. And his lips were positively sensual. She imagined what they’d feel like traveling down her neck, sucking her nipple inside, and then slipping lower.
“Armand, this is highly inappropriate. My husband wouldn’t like this.”
The mask slipped away for a second, revealing Jonas’s humor at her remark. They hadn’t planned to role-play today. She knew he was pleased with her improvisation, and she loved how quickly he’d understood both what she was doing and what she wanted from him.
“He’s a busy man, your husband. I’m doing him a favor by putting you in your place.” With that, he tugged again, and the strings holding up her top came loose. “I’m going to make you beg, Mrs. Spencer.”
Oh lord, she was moist. It only took one look from him to make her knees weak, and he was using it on her now. Thank goodness they’d stocked the pool house with the necessary equipment.
She’d wrangled her hair into a braid to make it easier to get under her swim cap. Reaching back, he grasped her by the long rope and pulled, urging her to stand up. He turned her around, so that her back was to his front, and he guided her back against him. Only then did it become apparent exactly how hard his muscles were. Before she could think to struggle, he banded one iron arm around her midsection.
Because she was half a foot shorter, her head fit neatly under his chin. He rested it on her now, another tool to keep her close. “Last chance, Mrs. Spencer.”
“Really?” She didn’t honestly think he’d let her off the hook so easily. Men as dominant and virile as this didn’t take kindly to her haughtiness.
He chuckled, a low, sinister laugh. “No, not really. Your fate is sealed.”
With that, he peeled away the fabric clinging to her breasts and squeezed one hard, his callused palm scraping her sensitive skin. She whimpered with the effort it cost to not beg for more.
He ground his pelvis into her ass, and she realized he was hard and ready. That could only mean one thing.
Without baring her further, he pushed her into the pool house. While he loved being an exhibitionist, she’d drawn the line when it came to overly graphic displays where their neighbors could see. Of course, he liked to counter that by saying their neighbors shouldn’t be using binoculars to see into the backyard if they didn’t want to see the kind of shows they put on.
