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One
night…one fantasy for hire…one sizzling case of mistaken identity.
Ainsley
Simmons can hardly believe she’s ordered a fantasy lover online — a man to
fulfill her deepest sexual desires for the entire evening. She’s in for a
surprise when sexy young Mr. R shows up at her door in a classic case of
mistaken identity.
Ainsley
has the night of her life being pleasured by the much younger and demanding
multi-millionaire — until she discovers he’s not her fantasy lover after all.
Ainsley’s
doorbell chimed again. Oh goodie. She clasped her hands together and shivered
with anticipation. Whoever her mystery man was, he was back—and she was ready
to play.
Standing
tall, holding in her stomach in and smiling widely, she braced herself for what
lay ahead as she headed for the foyer. She was intrigued by whether anyone
would be there or not this time. Maybe it was some kind of hide and seek. Kinky
hide and seek, she hoped.
Her
hand trembled on the knob as she opened her front door.
“Oh,”
she said, surprised to see a man holding a large box of chocolates out to her.
A very good looking younger man with intense blue eyes. Good, she’d asked for
that. So far...so good.
“Chocolates,”
she purred, eyeing the trademark famous wrapping. “I love chocolate, especially
Swiss.”
Casting
her eyes up, she surveyed the hunk before her. Suit and tie. Umm. Not quite
what she’d been expecting, but then what did someone who came to fulfil your
deepest sexual desires wear? They couldn’t very well parade around in their
undies. Embarrassed, she glanced down at her mostly naked self then back up at
her guest. His vivid blue eyes were glued to her body, his mouth agape.
“Oh, do come in,” she said, flattered that his
gaze lingered on her as she held the door wide for him to enter.
“Uh...uhhh,”
he said after a pause, stepping cautiously across the threshold and into the
marble foyer.
Damn,
he was undeniably sexy, just what she’d asked for. And oh so young, what was
he, twenty-five, if that? And that look on his face...he looked confused, as if
unsure. Well she’d be only too happy to kiss that look right off him. Oh, this
was going to be fun.
“Miss
Simmons?” he asked, shifting uncomfortably.
She pressed a finger across
his lips to silence him.
“Ah, no names, the company said so, remember?” she said, not
removing her finger.
“Call
me...Mrs M.” She’d never been married, even though she’d lived with Charles for
more years than proved wise. The very thought of going by a pseudonym sent an
empowering thrill through her. Very Mrs Robinson, if she did say so herself.
“Mrs
M,” he said, stepping back. Her finger fell from his lips. “I came to
deliver”—he reached into his pocket as if looking for something—“to deliver...
Damn,” he said, still searching for something.
“Later.”
She was in no mood for any paperwork. It would just ruin the mood. As nervous
as she was, now that her fantasy lover was there before her, she could barely
wait for him to take control so she could just relax and be pleasured. Just as
the Fantasies Incorporated’s website promised.
But
he just stood there.
She
waited, wondering if he was going to take charge soon. He didn’t make a move
and she was nervous. Maybe she was supposed to make the first gesture? After
all, she was the customer.
“Come...follow
me,” she said, deciding she’d better make the first gesture. Leading the way
through her cream and gold upholstered expanse of a living room, she stopped
midway, sensing he wasn’t following. Glancing back, she saw he still stood in
her wide front entrance.
“Well,
come on,” she prompted, taking the moment to admire his sandy blond hair with
the jagged edges that brushed just below his ears. She loved it when these
young men wore their hair a little dishevelled and longer like he did. She
couldn’t wait to tangle her fingers through it while he pleasured her. Fucked
her. Her cheeks flamed hot at the thought.
Her
fantasy man smiled, almost shyly, his brow arching slightly. A cocky look, if ever
she’d seen one. What a turn on that was, he must be playing into this whole Mrs
Robinson theme. He nodded and stepped out of her foyer and into her home,
following her to the opulent living room. Her body surged with anticipation.
This was going to be the best Valentine’s present ever. Glancing back, she saw
his eyes were riveted to her ass. She grew wet at the thought.
“I
was expecting you.” She filled the silence with a nervous laugh as she stopped
at the well-stocked bar on the far side of the room. The silver ice bucket
gleamed with condensation, and the two crystal flutes she’d set beside it
shimmered against the setting sun. Beyond their refreshments was one of the
best views in Beverly Hills.
“You
were?” He gulped, his Adam’s apple showing as he swallowed.
She
nodded. “I have champagne chilling...you do drink champagne, don’t you?” she
inquired. Not waiting for the answer, she pulled the chilled bottle from the
ice bucket. Slow droplets of condensation dripped onto the marble floor. “Here,
you uncork it, I’m hopeless at it.” She handed him the bottle and sat down one
of her bar stools, almost sliding off in her silky peignoir.
He
smiled and loosened his tie. Oh, yum. He caught her gaze and he blushed.
Fuck—did he really just blush? Oh, he played the Mrs Robinson thing better than
she could have imagined.
KATE DEVEAUX is a
contemporary, erotic romance writer and die-hard romantic. It was after reading
Jane Eyre in high school, that she became hooked on the idea of writing about
romance, excitement and drama. Kate has been penning stories, from the sensual
to the sinfully sexy, ever since!
A former wedding planner,
Kate has always been "in love" with love! She was inspired to transition from writing
racy short stories to full length manuscripts after meeting other authors in
the romance world at industry workshops, conferences and events. Originally
from England, now resides in the U.S. with her husband. When she’s not writing
or reading, Kate can be found on the tennis court—yes, there’s even
"love" in that game too!
Thanks for hosting!
ReplyDeleteJen, thanks for having me stop by. Always fun to share Marcus and Ainsley's red hot Valentine's. What do you think is the sexist Valentine's gift? I am partial to lingerie and chocolates, although not opposed to a private jet to Paris, Lol.
ReplyDeleteBest,
Kate
xx
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