Haunting the Mayfair
A sexy Halloween tale
Rick loves Cindi, but
he worries about her. Apart from his past, there is the very real problem of
her insatiable curiosity, so for Halloween he decides to teach her a lesson she’ll
never forget...
Rick Leighton is a world-class, sophisticated intelligence
operative with a questionable past. He’s tried retiring, leaving it all behind,
and for a time he did. But the past has a way of catching up to you, and he was
the company whore for a long time when he was an active agent. Much to his
surprise he’s fallen in love with the daughter of his mentor, a girl fifteen
years his junior, but her love and devotion to him–her acceptance of him–has
taught him the kind of love he once scoffed at.
Rick loves Cindi, but he also worries about her. Apart from
his past, there is the very real problem of her insatiable curiosity, and for
Halloween, he decides to teach her a lesson in being more careful. He lures her
to an old hotel that’s been abandoned for decades, and reputed to be haunted.
She goes, led by the intrigue and her curiosity, just as he knows she’ll be.
When Rick grabs her in the hallway, her anger is quickly
overwhelmed by the scope of his private party and all it entails. In the
afterglow of their passion, though, the ghosts of the place become all too
real, and Rick’s past clashes violently with the love that defines his present.
When Cindi is taken hostage by a woman he once used and
left, one who blames him for the death of her son, blood and death are the only
way back to safety.
Excerpt:
The shock of the cool chair against her bare skin sent
another shiver through Cinthya. But before she could recover completely, Rick
had most of her clothes off and was halfway through tying her ankles back to
the legs of the chair, this time to the back legs, leaving her thighs spread
wide.
Her heartbeat doubled when his fingers began a slow, barely
perceptible pattern of caressing her legs, starting at the back of her ankles
and gradually moving upward. The room actually did a crazy spin when Rick bent
his head and started following the path of his roaming hands with his lips.
Cinthya squirmed with renewed urgency as she tried to free
herself from the surprisingly strong bonds. Rick’s tongue barely touched the
wet folds between her legs, but the featherlike contact created a spasm of
reaction in her. She shuddered and gasped, the sound becoming a tiny moan when
he repeated the gesture with a slow, lingering sensuality. Then he leaned back
to look up into her eyes.
“Why…?” She wasn’t even sure what it was she wanted to ask
as the words got caught in another trembling twitch. His fingers were smoothing
gentle touches on the inner skin of her thighs.
“Because I love you, Cindi,” he answered around a huge
smile, supplying his own meaning to the gasped query.
She looked down to watch his hand brushing over the
dark-gold thatch of hair between her thighs and tried to thrust into the
contact. Frustration played through her when he refused to accommodate her.
“Rick? Do you think maybe you could love me a little
faster?” The words were expelled like a choked breath of air and her face
warmed with the heat of her embarrassment as well as her passion.
“How fast are you thinking, sweetheart?” His grin was on the
verge of dissolving into laughter.
His finger finally delving into her wet heat effectively cut
off any attempt at an answer, her hips again shifting into his touch. He probed
deeper into her and started a slow, gentle rhythm, his own breath becoming
audibly strained when her head fell back and her lips parted with a breathy
sigh.
Rick stilled the motion of his hand after several minutes of
slow, steady stroking, waiting for her dazed eyes to find his in the growing
shadows of the ancient hotel room. In the soft glow of light from the lamp,
Cindi’s hair shone like burnished gold. Blue eyes found his and she stared at
him, shaking uncontrollably, her expressive features filled with longing.
Rick kissed her lips then lowered his head until he was able
to push his tongue into the warmth that had been occupied moments before by his
finger. He heard the catch in her already too-fast breathing as he let his
tongue glide over the swollen folds then probe into her again. The erotic
torture evoked a desperate moan from her. For a couple of minutes he allowed a
tentative rhythm to build, then slowly eased away from her again.
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