Always Cambridge

Always Cambridge
Follow the saga from the beginning... Always Cambridge

Tuesday, 22 January 2019

New Release - Finding Fulfillment [Found by Fate 3] by Lynn Burke #BDSM #MayDecember #EroticRomance


findingfulfillment_finalcover


Finding Fulfillment
Found by Fate 3
By

Release Date: January 21, 2019

KEYWORDS: BDSM, Contemporary, May/December Erotic, Romance, Series, HEA, Novella

BLURB:

Jade Matthews may be young, but she knows what she wants in a man--someone mature and kinky, a man who shares her deepest desires to have her pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen and submissively compliant in the bedroom.

Archer Brennan aches to unleash his dark side on the too-young grocery bagger, with her pert pony tail and glossy lips that makes him yearn for a taste. With an ex-wife and a messy divorce threatening to destroy his pursuit of happiness, he binds himself to one rule -- hands-off Jade's tight body until his divorce settlement is final.

A submissive must obey her Dom, but some rules were meant to be broken, and when one misstep threatens the dominant lawyer's life, will Jade defy Archer's hands-off decree or lose the only man capable of fulfilling all of her dreams?

PURCHASE LINKS:
Kobo

findingfulfillment_slideshow

ADULT EXCERPT:

Eyes closed, I strained to listen, wondering and worrying over what Archer planned. The front door closed, and my pulse thrummed.

Alone.

I pressed my knees tight as arousal slickened my sex. My breasts grew heavy, my nipples tight and chaffed by the dress.

“I sit here at my desk, thinking of you.” Archer’s low voice low sent shivers down my spine. “I’ve been dreaming about you all day. Your shy smile, sparkling eyes.”

A smile bloomed on my face, and I found myself relaxing.

“You show up ten minutes late for our appointment, but when you walk through my door in nothing more than a mere wrap dress, I can almost forgive you. Almost.”

He growled the word, but not in anger. Hunger filled his voice, and I pressed my knees tight again.

“I sit behind my desk and tell you to bare your body to me. Slow and easy, you untie your dress. The material swishes down your creamy skin to pool around your ankles. Pink flushes your chest, your face, as I take my time caressing your body with my gaze. Your pulse thrums in your neck.”

Oh, does it… I sucked in my lower lip.

“Your nipples are hard, straining for a touch, kiss, or bite. Your stomach quivers as my gaze slips lower. ‘Come here,’ I say. Knees trembling, you obey until you stand in front of me.

“I want to lean forward and lick your glistening pussy, but you were ten minutes late.”

My breath caught as my arousal peaked. One mere flick of my clit, and I felt sure I’d fly.

“I pull you down over my lap, head and legs dangling down either side, arms held tight behind your back with my left hand. The scent of your arousal rises to my nose, and I breath deep. Unable to help myself, I stroke the globe of your ass and dip between your thighs to find your wetness.

“Your pussy tightens on my fingers as they slide deep, your hips rising to meet each thrust of my hand. Whimpers escape your lips—”

I bit on the inside of my lips to keep a real one inside.

“—and you beg to come, but I withdraw my hand, denying your release. Your musky scent draws me like a bee to nectar, and I stick my fingers in my mouth, sucking them clean and groaning at your sweet taste.

“Then, whack!”

I jumped, a small yelp ripping from me even though Archer sat ten feet away from me.

“Your body jolts beneath my hand, but you have nine left. Within seconds, three hand prints flare to life on your skin, and you’re no longer struggling to escape. I sooth my palm over the red markings, and a moan slips from your lips. By the eighth swat, you lift your hips toward my hand with a needy groan, the pain morphed into pure pleasure.”

My mouth parted as I drew in air, quivering with the need to come.

“Are you wet for me, Jade?”

Through the buzzing in my ears, I realized he’d spoken to me directly. “God, yes,” I say, unable to help the honest need pouring from my words.

“Pull up your skirt and show me.”

© Lynn Burke 201

22852100_1166667813465590_8724413637427877816_nABOUT LYNN BURKE:


Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.



Monday, 21 January 2019

Book Tour + #Giveaway - Love Don't Live Here Anymore - by Keke Renee #contemporary #romance



Love Don't Live Here Anymore
Andrew Sisters Book 1
by
Keke Renee

Genre:
Contemporary Romance



Vanessa Andrew is done with love. She decided that from now on, everyone she meets is a suspect. All she wants to do is focus on building her clothing store up, but her plans take an interesting turn when a chance meeting with the handsome owner of the building leaves her confused, frustrated, and her heart pounding.

Isaiah Reed, a playboy by night and business mogul by day, acquires a nearly defunct property; he has no idea that a curvaceous designer is poised to fight him at every turn.

Will the pair on opposite sides of a fight join forces in and out of the
bedroom or will their head-to-head challenge lead to disaster?

Warning:
13kShort Story, Adult language, fast paced, explicit sex scenes, with
a HFN.This is not a sweet and fluffy romance.




A Tennessee native and CA dreaming Author Keke Renee is living and striving to continue her passion of writing Short Story romances from Erotic, Paranormal and Urban fiction. She also writes under the name Chiquita Dennie.






Follow the tour HERE for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!



Thursday, 17 January 2019

Book Tour + #Giveaway - Mafia Boss - by Khardine Gray #MafiaRomance #99cents


Mafia Boss

The Accidental Mafia Queen Book 1
by
Khardine Gray 

Genre:
Contemporary Mafia Romance


Better to be at the right hand of the devil than in his path…

When you come from a crime family, you have a name to live up to.

My  enemies know I'm a bastard who shows no mercy—exactly the
cold-hearted don my father would want me to be. Except we're not the
one's in charge. Yet…

The Boss wants me to take over his billion dollar business, and the only
way that's happening is if I can win the heart of his cop daughter.

I planned to treat her just like all the other women who meant nothing
to me, but everything about her is tempting. Her beauty, her body,
her soul.

Money and Power. That’s all this was supposed to be
about… Falling in love wasn't part of the plan.

Neither was finding out that her father has a hidden agenda, and I’m just a pawn in his game.

MAFIA BOSS is The Godfather and The Sopranos with the sexy edge of a
drool-worthy Alpha male. Fans of R.R. Banks and Vi Keeland are gonna
love this...


**Only .99 cents!!**


Amazon * Apple * B&N * Kobo



Khardine Gray is a contemporary romance author who lives in England with her husband, two kids, and three crazy ferrets.

She is well traveled, cultured, and a woman with a passion for dancing and ice skating.

When not writing you can catch her shopping, indulging on pizza and hot chocolate, or hanging out with her family and friends.

No need to spend money on an airline ticket. Simply pick up one of Khardine's books to become immersed in the fascinating stories and characters she creates.





Follow the tour HERE for exclusive content and a giveaway!



Wednesday, 16 January 2019

Out Now - Sapphic Seduction - by Lucy Felthouse @cw1985 #sapphic #lesfic #erotica #lesbian



Blurb:

If you enjoy short tales of ladies loving each other, then get your hands on this collection from the pen of award-winning author Lucy Felthouse.

From Zumba classes to army basic training, surfer chicks to mechanics, and even a lost dog, this book has variety galore. There’s something for everyone, and will have you eager to turn just one more page.

Enjoy twelve titillating tales, over 45,000 words of Sapphic delight.
Please note: The stories in this anthology have been previously published.

Buy links:

Excerpt:

Verity’s phone buzzed in her pocket, reminding her of an angry—and insistent—bee. Sighing, she pulled the device out and looked at the screen. Rolling her eyes, she rejected the call, then pressed the off button. Fuck her family and their petty dramas—she did enough for them, and they never appreciated it. Let them deal with their own shit for a change. She’d come here for some peace and solitude, and that was what she was damn well going to get.

After showing her membership card to the kindly old lady at the kiosk, Verity passed through the gate and into the gardens of Biddulph Grange. The beautiful stately home, sadly, was private, but the stunning landscaped gardens were open to the public. The place was already off the beaten track—nestled as it was, deep in the Staffordshire countryside—but once Verity stepped inside the huge gardens, she felt a million miles from anywhere.

Closing her eyes momentarily, she pulled in a deep breath through her nostrils, and released it from her mouth. Already she felt better, the stress and irritation seeping out of her and disappearing into the gravelled path beneath her feet. This place was her refuge, her sanctuary. She never told anyone where she went when she disappeared off for a few hours every couple of weeks—more often if her family was being more difficult than usual—and that was the beauty of it. No one knew where she was, no one could bother her. All she had was herself and the cacophony of nature within the garden walls, and that was precisely how she wanted it.

Letting out a contented sigh this time, she shut out all the unpleasant thoughts, emptying her mind, and concentrated only on what was around her. What she could see, what she could hear, what she could smell.

Her favourite thing about the gardens—aside from their being her escape—was the fact they seemed to look different every time she visited. Nature took its course: trees and bushes grew, plants flowered, leaves turned and dropped. New plants were introduced, old or diseased ones were removed.

The wildlife was wonderful, too. A huge variety of birds fluttered, swooped and hopped around, tweeting, twittering and singing. Butterflies and squirrels also made frequent appearances. They never failed to make Verity smile, and today was no exception. A further weight was lifted from her as her lips curved into a grin, and she breathed in deeply through her nostrils. The air smelled fresh, yet something lingered, hinting at something to come.

Verity tilted her head back and looked up at the sky. Hmm, that could be it. There was a thick covering of cloud, not particularly ominous-looking, but then that was British weather for you. It could, and did, change in the blink of an eye.

Shrugging, Verity carried on walking. She was here now—she wasn’t going to leave just in case it rained. Even if it did, so what? A little rain never killed anyone. It could actually be kind of refreshing.

Putting one foot in front of the other, she followed her nose through the landscape, admiring everything she saw, and exchanging polite nods and smiles with the handful of people she met. And it was only a handful. Perhaps others had checked the weather forecast before coming out and had been deterred. More fool them.

On the other hand, though, she thanked them. It meant she had the place pretty much to herself. Smiling, she allowed her imagination to run away with itself, painting a picture of a scenario where Verity owned the stately home currently hidden from view, and was wandering in her own private gardens. Every tree, every bush, every flower, every blade of grass was on her land, and she loved it. Having such an amazing place to call her own… well, she knew how lucky she was.

She was snapped out of her grand and wonderful fantasy by something that didn’t look quite right. Blinking, she focussed on whatever it was over to her left-hand side that seemed to stand out like a sore thumb. She frowned and stepped closer, still not entirely sure what she was seeing. Though it definitely wasn’t a thumb, sore or otherwise.

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller), The Persecution of the Wolves, Hiding in Plain Sight and The Heiress’s Harem series. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 170 publications to her name. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter or Facebook. Join her Facebook group for exclusive cover reveals, sneak peeks and more! Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. Subscribe to her newsletter here: http://www.subscribepage.com/lfnewsletter



Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services

Tuesday, 15 January 2019

Book Tour + #Giveaway - Antonio and Sabrina Struck In Love Series - by Chiquita Dennie #MafiaRomance



Antonio and Sabrina Struck in Love 1
by
Chiquita Dennie

Genre:
Contemporary Mafia Romance



One moment is all it took to ignite a love affair neither would soon forget.

Nothing and no one could tear Antonio and Sabrina apart, no matter how hard they tried. Ex-lovers, angry family members, jealous rivals tried and failed. But they're not the only threats to this match made in
passion. Antonio has secrets - secrets that could force them to sever
ties forever. When the danger hits too close to home, he's forced to
face his demons and keep her safe from harm.

With more obstacles against them than they can count, will they ever have their happily-ever-after?





Antonio and Sabrina Struck in Love 2



Sabrina Washington has worked hard to get what she wants in life. The last thing the sassy, headstrong VP executive wants is an Alpha male who breaks all the rules, but when she meets Antonio De Luca, her steely façade starts to crumble under his gaze. He's exactly the kind of
man who can unravel her straight-shooting reputation and she's not so
convinced that's a bad thing. As they grow closer, her ability to resist her desires begins to waver. Soon, she finds herself immersed in his sexy and dangerous world and she's not sure she wants to go back to her old life...





Antonio and Sabrina Struck in Love 3



Antonio and Sabrina think they’ve put the worst behind them. They’re
ready to begin the next chapter of their lives, but forces beyond their control have other plans for them. Before either can settle into their new roles of parent and newly-minted Don of the De Luca Cartel, people from their sordid pasts take their vengeance a step further.

Distinguishing friend from foe, acquaintances from hired guns is only the beginning of the trouble they’ll face. If Antonio can’t bring this madness to an end, he may very well lose not only his new title, but lose the family he fought so hard for.

Will their unimaginable love story end in tragedy or will their shared will to survive see them through?





Janice and Carlo- Captivated by His Love
Spinoff of Antonio and Sabrina Struck in Love Series



Janice is on a new path after graduating college and living her dreams in the corporate world. She’s managed to handle the dating world with no commitments. After her last relationship in college ended abruptly, she wants to focus on herself and build a solid foundation. Unfortunately for her, the return of her ex-boyfriend isn’t getting her any closer to that goal.

When she meets Carlo, a mob boss who’s as sexy as he is deadly, she can’t help but be intrigued. But his lifestyle is at direct odds with what she wants in life and love. Carlo, however, isn’t making
things easy for her.

She could choose to walk away, but will her decision lead to heartache or to a happily-ever-after?

Warning:
Adult Content, steamy sex scenes, violence, sensitive subjects for
some readers cause trigger, Spinoff from Antonio and Sabrina series.
Recommended to read the Antonio and Sabrina series first for context.
Can be read as a standalone.







Chiquita Dennie is an author and entrepreneur. Born in Memphis, TN, and currently a Los Angeles CA native. Her background in film/tv has taught and shaped her passion for writing with her debut romance novel Antonio and Sabrina Struck In Love. Since its debut, fans have embraced the unconventional love story of Sabrina Washington and Antonio De Luca making Antonio and Sabrina Struck In Love an Amazon Best Seller #5 for Book 1 and #4 for Book 2 on Kindle charts.




Follow the tour HERE for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!

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Thursday, 10 January 2019

Sesto and Syn are back in the re-release of - If You Can't Handle the Heat #erotic #contemporary #romance



If You Can’t Handle the Heat
by
H K Carlton

Release Date: December 28, 2018


Welcome to the relaunch of If You Can't Handle the Heat, and my first foray into self-publishing. I'm so excited to once again share this story with my readers. With some added content, it has been re-edited and re-formatted for re-release, along with a cover re-vamp designed by the incredible Emmy from Studioenp



An unlikely couple is brought together as celebrity judges on a new reality-based cooking show.

Sesto Théodore, is an arrogant yet well respected American-Italian chef, with several five-star restaurants.

Once bitten, twice shy, Syn Fully, is a jaded author of erotica, rocketing her way up all the best sellers lists.

From the moment Syn and Sesto meet, their personalities clash, yet behind the scenes sparks fly. Getting together would be a recipe for disaster, but hot sex with no-strings couldn’t hurt. At least not until real feelings get involved.

But just when Syn considers opening her damaged heart to the cocky chef, video of rather personal content is leaked online. Sesto immediately jumps to conclusions and accuses Syn of the privacy breach.

Can the arrogant chef forgive and forget, or will his pride leave him out in the cold?

Somebody’s about to get burned…

Possible Triggers: Please note one scene contains borderline bdsm and dubious consent/forcible confinement. Also in this story intimate video is obtained without the knowledge or consent of the participants involved, and later distributed online

Author’s Note: This erotic story has been previously published with the title, If You Can’t Stand the Heat. Though there is a little bit of added content, the story remains relatively the same. It has been re-edited and re-formatted for re-release, and has a sizzling new cover thanks to Studioenp


* * * Purchase your copy HERE * * *


Chapter One

Sesto Théodore walked confidently through the atrium lobby of the swanky New York hotel, one of three celebrity judges, about to shoot a pilot episode for the newest reality show competition.

Protégés, was a lame imitation of the cooking channel’s popular Hacked, as far as Sesto was concerned. But if the network was willing to pay him an exorbitant amount of money to insult young chefs and kill their dreams, who was he to argue?

Sesto had paid his dues and slugged his way through culinary school the hard way, without having to pimp out his talents for twenty-five grand on some pathetic TV show. Instead, he’d methodically achieved everything he’d set out to do in his career, including owning his own restaurants, all of which boasted five-star ratings. He was handsome, rich—a rock-star in the culinary world. Women quite literally got on their knees for a man who could cook. “And they say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach!” Sesto chuckled to himself as he pulled open the door to the convention center.

Flicking an imaginary piece of lint off the shoulder of his designer suit coat, Sesto glanced at the judge’s table where the other two celebs were supposed to be seated by now. He’d been fashionably late on purpose, intending to make them wait on him. But, foiled again, besides the camera crew, the contestants, and the harassed-looking producer, Sesto was the only judge present.

* * * *

Surreptitiously, Syn Fully, slipped unnoticed onto the Protégés set. With the help of some large artificial potted ferns as cover, she observed the scene before her. As a writer, she was an avid people watcher. But for today she was intent on getting the lay of the land, and a good look at the people she would be working with.

This whole proposal—or conspiracy, Syn hadn’t decided which yet—had been an underhanded collaboration between her assistant and her agent. Starring in a reality show wasn’t something Syn would have elected to do on her own. But between her two colleagues, they’d convinced her the exposure would be good for her career, and garner a bit of free publicity, not to mention, her fans would eat it up, so to speak.

The entire kitchen area impressed her. It appeared quite professional. One worry quashed. This was only a pilot episode, and she knew certain aspects would get streamlined if the network decided to pick up the show. But she didn’t want to be involved in a second rate production. Preferring to hide behind her pen, up until now, Syn hadn’t done any television. Other than a few guest spots on talk-radio where she’d shared some steamy excerpts from her latest release, and a couple of photo shoots for jacket covers, she maintained a low profile. Syn even kept conventions, book signings, and special appearances to a bare minimum.

A small commotion to her left brought Syn out of her musings, and she finally caught sight of the man that the Protégés show had been adapted for.

Sesto Théodore, strode across the conference room, exuding self-confidence. Syn had done a little research on the man before she’d agreed to work with him. She and her personal assistant, Sam, had watched some of the chef’s interviews. And Syn had reached out to several mutual friends who had worked with him in the past. By all accounts and reputation, he was an arrogant asshole and difficult to work with. But in addition, he was an expert in his field, renowned and respected as a chef and restaurateur. A perfectionist, he demanded the same from everyone around him. Syn could respect that.

One thing she hadn’t bargained for though, was how deliciously handsome he was in person. He not only conveyed self-assurance, but with his size he also radiated power, and possessed an animal magnetism that was undeniable. With a critical eye, Syn gave him a full body-scan, the kind of subjective once-over she often used when selecting a suitable cover model for one of her book jackets. Unquestionably, Sesto Théodore could fill out a suit quite like no other.

Syn caught herself biting on the tip of her index finger. Sam, often teased her about the bad habit. Apparently, it was something she did while she was writing, mainly when she was plotting out a particularly steamy sex scene. It would seem Chef Théodore’s good looks had just become author fodder for another time. Suddenly, sitting next to him for the next week or so didn’t seem like such a chore.

Syn watched on with interest as Sesto approached the unsuspecting crew.

“Where is Ms. Fully?” The producer ranted.

“Her PA assures me she’s on the way, Mr. Parks,” said one of the production assistants.

“And the Russian hockey player?” Parks demanded.

“He just entered the lobby.”

“Good. And the over-inflated chef? What’s his name? Theodore? Where’s he?”

Syn chewed her lip, stifling a good chuckle, when the producer butchered the gourmet chef’s surname.

“Um, uhhh,” one of the production assistants stuttered, as he gestured over the producer’s shoulder, to the over-inflated chef in question.

Sesto stared down at his well-groomed fingernails and drawled, “It’s pronounced Tee-a-door. And if you ever refer to me in such a manner again, I will walk. And you’d best remember I’m the only credible judge you’ve got here. What do a hockey player and a trashy romance novelist know about food?”

That was her cue. Syn stepped out from behind the greenery.

“We both eat, Mr. Théodore,” she said, in what she hoped was a haughty tone.

* * * *

Sesto scrutinized the owner of the sultry voice. An exotic brunette stared up at him, challengingly. She wore a red come-fuck-me dress that dipped almost to her navel. Her lovely breasts spilled appealingly out the sides of the form-fitting halter. Sesto clenched his hands into fists, fighting the urge to reach out and caress some creamy side-boob. What on earth did women do before double-sided tape?

“I believe owning taste buds is qualification enough,” she continued insolently, snapping him out of his reverie.

Reluctantly, Sesto pried his gaze from her magnificent pale tits, long enough to look at her face.

She lifted a perfectly shaped eyebrow. In that one exchange, he was certain she knew precisely where his dirty little mind had been. But that was her fault. A woman couldn’t possibly slip into a dress like that and then expect scintillating conversation.

“Sesto, may I call you Sesto?” Parks, the producer interrupted. Then not waiting for a response, he said, “This is your fellow judge, Ms. Syn Fully.”

Sesto snorted in disdain. In part, because he found the pen-name quite comical, and secondly, he couldn’t believe a grown woman would go around calling herself such a ridiculous pseudonym. In the beginning of his career, he’d considered changing his name because people botched the pronunciation all the time. But he discarded the idea, he was proud of his American-Italian background. Besides he enjoyed correcting people. And even if they mangled his name, they always remembered it.

“Seriously, you couldn’t come up with a better alias as far as romance novelists go?” Sesto mocked.

“Laugh if you will Mr. Théodore, but no one ever forgets my name,” she replied, as if she’d just read his thought. Although she’d pronounced it wrong, too, coming from her full beautiful lips, he found he didn’t mind. She’d said Tay-a-door with a bit of an accent, giving it an almost French nuance. Nevertheless, he’d still correct her just to be an ass.

“Yeah, after they quit busting a gut,” he returned. “I’m sure mommy and daddy Fully are incredibly proud of the titillating mommy-porn you push down despondent women’s throats. And I can assure you, it’s not your name they’re remembering.” Blatantly, he dropped his gaze to her ample bosom. “And it’s Tee-a-door,” he said slowly as if she were not overly bright.

Simultaneously, Syn rolled her shapely shoulder, while trailing her tongue over the line of her full bottom lip. Sesto’s cock jerked as he followed the mesmerizing gesture closely.

The woman was carefully made up. Her green eyes were dramatically shadowed with sweeping black lashes and darkly lined to give her a catlike gaze. Yet her lips were totally bare, devoid of any color save the richness of natural pigment. He liked that. One would expect flashy red lipstick to go along with the crimson French-tip fingernails and the cherry fuck-me dress.

“And just for the record, I’m not a romance novelist, Chef Tay-a-door.” This time she said his last name slowly, as if he was the unintelligent one, and there was no doubt she’d deliberately mispronounced it. “I write erotica, pure sex. Screw romance.”

With that strident pronouncement she turned away, giving him an excellent view of her bare back.

Damn, I wish she’d worn that dress backwards. His gaze was drawn to the curve of her slim waist. Fortunately, his hands were still in fists. Though it didn’t stop him from wanting to skim his fingers up her spine. Would she shiver at my touch or slap my damn smug face?

“Ahh, I see,” Sesto retorted. “So Syn actually stands for cynical, not sinful.”

She barely afforded him a glance over her shoulder, instead, Ms. Fully greeted the newly arrived hockey player—standing on the tips of her stilettos she placed a kiss on his cheek. Sesto wondered why she hadn’t given him a nice little peck.

“It’s been a long time, Kiska,” the toothless athlete said in stilted English, then he placed a kiss to each of her cheeks.

Kiska. If memory served him correctly, the endearment meant kitten.

“It’s been years, Maksim,” Syn gushed.

Sesto detected a smile in the author’s voice and perhaps even some genuine affection for the big Russian. Not at all the chilly tone she’d reserved for him.

“Yes, at least three. You were still with Dmitri, when I was traded. I was sorry to hear it ended. But not too sorry.” He smiled at her as if he’d like to take her home.

Like a simpering idiot, the set’s little gopher-boy hovered at the statuesque brunette’s elbow. “Here’s some water for you, Ms. Fully.”

Turning, she smiled down at the kid. “Thank you…Chase, isn’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Call me Syn. I only insist the clientele call me ma’am,” she said with a wink, giving the impression she not only wrote stories about kink but she also lived them.

“Yes, ma’am,” the kid stuttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. Sesto resisted the urge to do the same.

What is it about this woman? Yes, she was lovely and she had a bangin’ body, but he’d been with beautiful women before. Nonetheless, it would seem the athlete, the key grip, and the chef, all had hard-ons for the erotica writer.

Was that it? Men assumed because she wrote about it, she could dish it out? No harm in finding out.

The producer along with the director approached and began to explain what was expected. It was shaping up to be a long day of waiting around while the contestants cooked.

“I’m Ken, the director. So if you’ll take your seats, we’ll have the host introduce you on camera, we’ll present the competitors and then while they cook, you can have some down time or you’re free to watch them prepare what you’ll be sampling. There will be four rounds, an appetizer, a soup, a main, and a dessert. You will eliminate a contestant after every round. When there are only two contestants left, we have a surprise for them, when our own Chef Théodore will prepare a meal. Each competitor will be given the unenviable task of duplicating his dish by taste alone, as they will be sequestered while he cooks. The one closest to Chef’s recipe will be our winner and the final decision will be his, given that the victor will also gain a position in Chef’s most recent restaurant. Any questions?”

“Good,” Ken said when all three judges shook their heads. He then pulled out the middle chair at the evaluation table. “Syn.”

While she elegantly took a seat, Ken leaned in and whispered something in her ear. She grinned and stared down at the tabletop, giving no hint anything untoward had just been mumbled into her ear. Most likely she was used to men talking dirty to her.

Sesto sat next to her.

“Have you been properly introduced to Maksim, Chef Tay-a-door?” The huskiness in Syn’s voice went straight to his groin.

“No, and there’s no need. The host is about to do so,” Sesto responded in short.

Syn turned to the hockey puck with legs, and whispered to him. Maks threw his blond head back and roared at whatever she’d said. Then the two of them focused on him. It was nice that they were having a laugh at his expense.

“Something you’d like to share with the class, Ms. Fully?” Sesto asked, coldly.

“Mmm, I usually don’t like to share with strangers. At least not until I’ve known them more than ten minutes. But if you insist.”

She tapped her pointy little tongue repeatedly on the center of her upper lip before answering. Sesto was fascinated by the action, and almost forgot the question.

“I said that you looked like you could use a good blow job. Release some of that obvious tension,” Syn said straight faced.

Sesto’s cock swelled not only at her words, but also that crazy thing she’d done with her tongue. Fuck! How was he to maintain a cool demeanor when he felt like she’d just licked his dick?

“Save your crass vocabulary for your adoring yet easily stimulated fans, Ms. Fully, it won’t work on me.”

The corner of her mouth quirked and her eyes narrowed. “Oh, really,” she breathed as if she damn well knew the painful state she had him in. “I almost wish to verify your quick denial for myself, Chef Tay-a-dor.” He watched her plump lips as she enunciated his name.

Fisting his hands, so that he wouldn’t be tempted to grab one of hers and place it in his crotch, and prove she was absolutely correct in her assumption—instead he addressed the director. “Can we get on with this?”

“Places everyone,” Ken called.

The host appeared wearing a cheap suit. He looked more like a used car salesman.

“That’s not going to work.” Sesto pointed. “Get him a decent suit. And if he opens his mouth and sounds like a cheesy game show host, I’m walking. I will not be associated with the circus this production is shaping up to be.”

Patience gone, Sesto stood and tucked his hands in his trouser pockets. “Washed up athletes, half-dressed trashy novelists, and a garish emcee,” he mumbled. “I was looking for some class and sophistication not a spectacle. Don’t forget whose name is on that marquee.” He waved in the direction of the sign above the temporary kitchen.

“Yes, sir, Chef,” Ken said in a rush. “We’ll take care of it.”

Sesto had half a mind to call his agent. This was bullshit. What the hell had he gotten him into? He’d be a laughingstock among the other television chefs.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he remembered lambasting other top culinary experts when they’d first done shows similar to Protégés. Why was he doing this? He certainly didn’t need the money. But his agent thought it might help the public’s perception of him. He thought his public image was just fine.