One of the things I'm very proud of, where my new BDSM romance Geoffrey's Rules is concerned, is how well I feel I managed to walk the line between the BDSM and the romance, as I develop the characters along both those axes, showing how BDSM and romance interact with each other in their hearts. You'll be the judge of that, of course, though. I hope you like it.
I turned to look out the window, trying to make sure I couldn't see anyone I knew, and when I turned back, he was there, wearing a blue blazer over a white button down and tight (not indecently, but pretty close) jeans. His dark brown, slightly wavy hair was shorter than in the picture on the web, but it was the same man, and he looked even more intelligent in person.
Also, in person, he looked just a tiny bit older, as well. Thirty? Thirty-five? For the first time in my entire life, I felt myself grow warm between my thighs at the mere sight of a man. It must have had a great deal to do with the strange prelude to this moment that I had already played with him--the moment at the café, the business-card, the email, (the self-pleasure). Honestly, though, it felt as if my arousal was simply in response to the thought that this gorgeous man had brought me here, with perhaps the tiniest hint of a notion that the reason he had brought me here was that he was going to spank me.
"Chloe," he said, holding out his hand, "it's very nice to meet you."
His voice was a rich baritone, almost in the bass-range. There was not the slightest indication that he had ever seen me doing anything disreputable.
I reached my hand out, in response, and he took it inside his own very firmly but not painfully, gave it a very small, gentle shake, and released it.
That was when I looked into his eyes for the first time, just as he was sitting down opposite me. They were gazing at me as if their owner had just seen a valuable object--a painting, or a sculpture--that he had heard a great deal about, and was now trying to decide for himself whether it really was as worth seeing he had heard it was.
"Did you follow Rule #1?"
Had he really just interrupted me? I felt the blood rush to my face. I couldn't think at all for several moments. I found that I was looking down at my fork. With what felt like an enormous expenditure of will, I raised my eyes to his, and saw a look of amusement on his face, which made my blush grow hotter.
"Are you going to answer, Chloe? Not answering would be a mistake, where your bottom is concerned."Here's the blurb--buy the book at Amazon by clicking here!
For as long as she can remember, Chloe has imagined what it would be like to be utterly and completely dominated by a man. When she meets Geoffrey—a man who can make her blush red with shame and quiver with lust at the same time with nothing more than a word or a glance—Chloe begins to wonder if her fantasy could become reality.
As hot as her desire burns, though, Chloe struggles with herself. How can a modern woman feel this way? Should she not berate herself for longing to be taken over her man’s knee for a bare bottom spanking? No matter how she yearns for it, does she really belong on her knees at Geoffrey’s feet, naked and waiting for him to take her any way he pleases?
When Geoffrey offers her what she knows deep down she has always wanted, will she turn him away, or will she submit to his rules and allow her new master to take her fully in hand?