Pushing his boundaries was always her plan. What she didn’t expect was how much she’d love it when he pushed back.
Trent Brooks is young, hungry and on his way to the top as a newly appointed Lead Communications Officer at Morgan and Miller, a conglomerate of family brands. After the death of the company’s CFO, Trent is dispatched to navigate a delicate situation involving the deceased executive and an escort agency known as Kitty Calls.
Sabine Cowan is the take-no-prisoners owner of Kitty Calls, who has no use for men other than for her business and her personal pleasure. When Trent presents her with the confidentiality agreement, she dismisses it. But instead of dismissing him, she decides he may be just the type of fun she’s been hungry for.
When compromising photos of Sabine and Trent together are leaked to the media, both of their worlds explode, just in very different ways. Sabine is used to being painted as a sexual deviant. Trent, not so much. With his reputation and his career hanging in the balance, he’s determined to figure out who’s behind the leak.
Screwing Sabine Cowan is every man’s wet dream, including Trent’s. Falling in love with her, however, is not what he bargained for. Exploring the depth of their passion in whatever way she wants could destroy him completely, but his quest for the truth may be something worth dying for.
Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of ménage, anal, double penetration and public sex, as well as references to abusive and neglectful parenting, blackmail, homophobia, conversion camps and drug abuse.
General Release Date: 1st November 2022
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“Someone will see us,” Trent breathed out the words, half a moan, as Sabine opened his pants.
“Yeah, maybe.” She licked her lips, her hand on his cock making him jolt. “But no one will talk about it.”
He opened his lips to mutter some other stupid shit then closed them again. Sabine licked him from balls to crown and he thought he was going to come from that alone. He tilted his head back, groaning when she sucked him, slowly gliding her lips over his shaft, swirling and flicking her tongue before easing his dick in. She pumped him, taking him past the gate of her throat, fucking him with her entire mouth. His brain misfired, thoughts fading to nothing but electric impulses of pleasure. She gently massaged his balls with her fingers, her moan vibrating along his cock. Everything coiled—his gut, his sac—ready to blow.
She slid his dick out of her mouth, slowly, pressing her tongue hard against his shaft, lingering to give him another couple of flicks just under the ridge of his crown. He sucked in a deep breath and looked down at her, her lips glistening and a wicked smile greeting him. His body uncoiled, pulling him back from the edge enough that he could think again. It would have been some embarrassing shit if he’d lost his load so quickly.
“I probably shouldn’t be doing this. Conflict of interest,” he said, then chastised himself. Shut up, you stupid fucker. Shut up, shut up, shut up! There was Sabine Cowan, CEO of an escort empire, heiress to a multi-corporation legacy and notoriously hot bad girl, on her knees with her lips…oh fuck…her lips wrapped around his… “Fuck!”
She popped her mouth off him again, the suction making him want to follow her, his dick bobbing, begging for more. “You’re not working tonight,” she said. She sat back on her heels and slid her hand up his chest, pushing him to sit down in his chair. “I wouldn’t have invited you to my party if I thought you were on the clock.”
“Why am I here, then?” His brain was exploding, lust driving his every thought. He watched her lips move, her tongue darting to lick the corner of her mouth.
“Well…”
She moved between his legs, pushing against his thighs, nipples popping like they’d explode out of her low-cut dress. He wished they would. He kept his hands gripped to the arms of his chair, not trusting himself to move and break the lusty spell she was weaving.
“You’re here to see how I keep secrets, aren’t you?”
“I’m here to get you to sign a confidentiality agreement.” He nearly choked on those words. Could that be any more of a buzz kill? She’d refused to sign the agreement at their meeting earlier, scoffing at idle threats made on behalf of his boss.
She smiled, batting her lashes. “Well, I guess you’re just going to have to convince me then, aren’t you?” She took his balls into her palm, stroking one then the other. “You wanna fuck me, messenger boy?”
“Yeah,” he croaked. Screw the confidentiality agreement.
She released him, pushing on his thighs to stand, her hand out to help him up. In a daze he took her offer, standing on wobbly legs, dick rock hard, leading the way.
“You might want to tuck that bad boy back in.” Sabine chuckled. “We’ve gotta walk through a few crowds to get upstairs.”
Confused, Trent glanced down, realizing in a daze what she was saying. He pushed his aching dick back into his pants and zipped up. He’d had blow jobs in his life. Many. But he’d never had one like that. It seemed as if Sabine had enjoyed it just as much as he had. Maybe he’d just gotten so used to his mundane sex life that he’d forgotten how good things could be. Either way, he wasn’t going to put the brakes on this. He couldn’t. This was a fantasy-in-the-making of epic proportions. And he believed Sabine when she said that discretion was a guarantee. Off the clock or not, he knew his boss would not be happy to hear that Trent had not only partied with the enemy but fucked her too.
And that potentially sobering thought—the risk of blowing everything he’d worked his ass off to achieve, a corner office as Morgan and Miller Limited’s newest lead communications officer, a stellar and solid reputation for innovative promotional campaigns and the bank account to show for it—still wasn’t enough to derail his lust.
The temptation was just too great.
Sabine had been a socialite first—a wealthy heiress who’d attracted the media spotlight for not only her stunning looks but also her outrageous behavior. Drugs, parties, sex tapes… She’d done it all. Done it and reveled in it. Her celebrity status alone made her a trophy bang, but add to that her smoking-hot body—voluptuous and plump in all the right places—combined with her I’m-gonna-fuck-your-brains-out aggression and Trent was a goner.
Sabine took him up the grand staircase, leading him, walking just a little ahead so he felt like her hand in his was more like a leash, guiding him in the right direction. Adam, her very watchful bodyguard, was standing a few steps up, flicking his gaze from Trent to Sabine, his frown firmly in place. Sabine paused long enough so she could lean in and say something quietly to the giant brute. Adam gave a tight nod, shifting to look straight ahead, like Trent didn’t exist. With another sly smile over her shoulder at Trent, Sabine continued up. His dick was literally weeping for her.
There was another staircase leading to the next floor, probably where the master suite was, but Sabine didn’t continue upward. Instead, she took him down the hall, wall sconces lighting their way. It was quieter up here, the sound of murmured voices from the many conversations muffled as they moved higher and deeper into the house.
The room she led him to was bigger than his hotel room, even bigger than his condo. But there was nothing suggesting a touch of Sabine, nothing that made him think she’d invited him into her own bedroom, her sanctuary. He didn’t know why that bothered him. Why it would matter that she wanted to fuck in a generic room?
“Is this a client room?” He pushed away the feeling of jealousy that had reared, surprised that it was there at all. While downstairs had been all about socializing and harmless flirting, upstairs was a different story. If there was any doubt in his mind that her legitimate escort business was a cover for more nefarious shit, the multi-room traffic of girls and older men they’d passed on the second floor had been enough to tell him otherwise.
Sabine smiled when she faced him, her hand on the door to close it. “This is a guest room.”
She shut out the rest of the party then moved toward him to run her hands up his body and wrap her arms around his shoulders, pressing her lips to his. He melted into her kiss. Finally, he could taste her. Any other thoughts dissolved when she slipped her tongue into his mouth, exploring, entangling. He moved his hands to her hips, then over her ass, lifting her so she could wrap her legs around his waist. Her skirt hiked up under his hands and he brushed flesh. She isn’t wearing any panties.
“You’re bare,” he said as he pulled away from her mouth.
She cocked her head in a coy gesture, one he didn’t believe for a second. “Yeah, I was hoping you’d figure that out sooner and slip your fingers in for a bit.”
“Downstairs?” He was taken aback then chuckled at his own shock. “Finger you in front of everyone?”
Sabine wiggled her way out of his grasp, kicked off her shoes then climbed onto the bed, facing him on her knees. “You’d be surprised how few people notice those kinds of things. And the ones who do either enjoy the view or look away.”
Trent yanked off his jacket and shoes then crawled onto the bed, invading her space, making her move so that she was holding herself up, leaning back on her hands, her legs partially spread.
“Well, it would be a good show if they did watch.” What he was really thinking was, I sure as shit hope no one recognized me. Instead of blurting out his panicked thoughts, he distracted himself with Sabine, letting his dick do the thinking from that point on. He ran his hand up her calf then down her thigh, slipping the skirt of her dress back to her waist.
She laughed, dropping her head back, and opened her legs wider. He ignored her offer, bypassing the view of her pussy, those plump lips bare of hair with the glint of a piercing on her hood, in favor of her luscious fat tits. Finding her peaked nipples hard, he lowered his mouth, sucking her through her dress before nipping her between his teeth, taking her by surprise so that she whipped her head back up to meet his gaze. Something sparkled there—intrigue, curiosity. She watched him move from one breast to the other, latching on to the top of her dress, yanking it down so that her tits spilled out.
She moaned when he nipped again at the lush bud that was hard, impossibly hard. He flicked his tongue against it, sucking while he fondled her other breast with his hand, cupping as much as he could, her ample flesh spilling out of his palm. He alternated between the two, flicking and teasing. He could play with her nipples forever, sucking them until they were hot and rosy red, throbbing against his tongue.
“Eat me, messenger boy.” She rocked her hips, nudging against him, making his cock pulse.
He pulled away with a smile, feeling cunning, triumphant. Sabine Cowan was as good as begging him to lick her clit. He obviously had to oblige. He spread her legs wider, holding her knees as he lifted them, pushing back until they were nearly touching the bed. Her pussy was gloriously splayed, wet, glistening, the piercing a diamond stud, hot as hell. He licked his lips and she moaned, the sound enough to make his cock throb. He lay down between her legs, flicking at the piercing, rolling it around with his tongue before moving to her clit to give her a good suck. He licked his way down, probing her hole, lapping her juice. He glanced up and caught her watching him as she played with her tits, teasing herself, her eyes hooded.
He slid his fingers deep inside, stroking her G-spot, giving her the right kind of pressure, servicing her with his tongue and his lips, so that her orgasm would rise just as his had. And right when he got her writhing, groaning, her breathing hard, her eyes closed and back arched, he stopped.
It took her a few seconds to realize what he’d done. She cracked open her eyes, watching him, snaking her hand down to finish the job he’d started.
“Nah uh, sweetie.” He gave a shake of his finger while he unbuttoned his pants with his other hand. “You’re going to come around my cock.”
Sabine froze in place and gave him a slow, knowing smile. She wiggled herself out of her dress, tossing it over his shoulder to land in a heap on the floor. He pulled his pants off, then his boxers and socks, followed by his shirt. After giving him another once-over, she crawled to the other side of the bed, swaying her ass in a tantalizing manner. She opened a drawer on the bedside table and pulled something out. Turning to face him, she tossed it against his chest.
Condoms. A row of them.
Trent smiled, his cock jolting, eager to be sheathed. She crawled to him, slipping her mouth over his dick at the same time that she ripped a condom from the row. When she sucked her way off, he mourned the loss but knew something much better was coming. She slipped the condom on him then spun around, wiggling her ass. He didn’t need more of an invitation. With hands on her hips, he thrust into her, his balls smacking her skin. He moaned as her pussy gripped him.
She lowered herself so her face was against the mattress, his thrusts rocking her, her tits swaying. She slipped her hand down her front, likely to rub her clit. He couldn’t actually see her fingers, but the thought of her touching herself had his orgasm rising fast. He reached one hand around to play with one of her breasts, cupping it then gliding his thumb down to flick her nipple. She cried out, her pussy spasming hard and fast, her moans bringing him to climax and cum spewing into the condom. It was a great release after months of nothing but his hand.
He pulled out of her, sitting back on his heels as he caught his breath—or tried to, anyway. She was on him in a flash, pulling the condom off, slipping her lips back on. Sabine soon had him hard and wanting her all over again. She slid another condom on then pushed him backward, nearly toppling him off the bed so she could straddle him. He knew he was in for the night of his life. With her eyes locked on his and his cock buried deep, she gave him a slow ride. All he could do was stare up at her and think that Sabine-fucking-Cowan was a goddess.
Angela Addams is an author of many naughty things. She believes that the written word is an amazing tool for crafting the most erotic of scenarios and likes telling stories about normal people getting down and dirty and falling in love. Enthralled by the paranormal at an early age, Angela also spends a lot of her time thinking up new story ideas that involve supernatural creatures in everyday situations.
She is an avid tattoo collector, a total book hoarder, and loves anything covered in chocolate…except for bugs.
She lives in Ontario, Canada in an old, creaky house, with her husband, children and four moody cats.
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