A Valentine’s Bind
Here is my latest offering ready for a hot Valentine’s read
When University student Nicky Johnson decides to make an impromptu visit to a BDSM club with friends she get more than she bargained for.
The alcohol fuelled evening finds her asleep on her sofa the next day, suffering from memory loss.
But who brought her home?
Dominant Dariel Pearson shows her that spanking and submission can be empowering.
Will this be a life changing experience for Nicky?
This New Adult contemporary romance is a steamy,sexy tale of love, dominance and submission.
International Link: authl.it/B01B8R1P0C
Only 99p UK or 99c US
I woke up slowly. Opening first one eye then the other tentatively. My head banging and my mouth felt like the bottom of a parrot cage. The need for food immediate and overpowering. The mantra in my head repeating over and over.
I am never drinking red wine again. I am never drinking red wine again.
Then, I spotted the open packets and containers of food spread across the coffee table in the living room. No wonder my neck hurt so much. Falling asleep on the sofa with my head at an unnatural angle will do that to a person.
With a selection of leftovers heated up I munched aimlessly. Trying to remember how I got home the previous evening. And, the twenty dollar question was “Who with?” I could hear someone coming through my front door with a key. But, I lived alone, and no one else had keys to my flat. Not even my family.
I turned to look as the handle started to twisted, panicking as the door pushed open and in stepped a stunning man with dark brown hair. He was wearing, what looked to me like a Saville Row suit. His steely blue gaze connecting with my own slightly bloodshot pale blue eyes.
Oh. Finally awake are we?” he remarked in a clipped accent as he walked in shutting the door carefully behind him.
I attempted to swallow the mouthful of curry I was in the middle of chewing and began to cough violently. It had gone down the wrong hole and I was turning an unattractive blue hue.
Reacting quickly he shot over and banged me on the back sharply three times dislodging the errant bit of curry. Which promptly shot out of my mouth, landing on the rug. Oh. My God. How embarrassing I didn’t have a clue who he was and this is how he gets his first glimpse of me. Eating warmed up curry. Looking like I had been dragged backwards through a hedge. Except, apparently this wasn’t our first meeting at all. He had a key to my flat and seemed to know his way around.
What on earth went on last night?
Grabbing some tissues I cleaned up the mess on the rug and guiltily started to tidy up the living area. He grabbed my arm firmly, turned me to face him and commanded.
“Stop that right now. We need to talk. Sit down there.”
He pointed to the sofa and I felt an overwhelming compulsion to follow his orders.
“Right. Tell me what you remember from last night. The truth mind you. I won’t be lied to.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. This happened a few times as I had no idea what did happen, how he came to have a key or even how I got home.
“Enough of that now. You look like a demented goldfish, opening and closing your mouth like that. So. I assume from your body language and failure to respond that you haven’t a clue who I am. No idea what I am doing here or even aware of the fact I had to escort you home.”
I nodded and shrugged. Not trusting myself to talk without making the situation worse. So. The “who” I came home with was revealed.
“Well then. Perhaps introductions are in order. For starters I know a little about you already. Your name is Nicola Johnson, or Nicky to your friends. You are a student at Salford University studying sociology, who works in a bar in town part-time. Your parents live in Spain having retired recently. Are you sure you can’t remember anything about yesterday evening?” He quizzed. A stern look on his face.
I stared at him and tried my absolute best to remember something, anything. He did look familiar but I couldn’t even remember his name, where we had met or what had led to us coming home together. He wasn’t even my type, which was the big shocker. He looked way to sophisticated for a piss poor student like me to snaffle.
“Well…I remember your face. But, other than that it is hazy. I must have drunk way too much red wine last night to blank out the entire evening like this.” I replied.
“Oh, petal I think the shots might have something to do with the memory loss. That, and the spliff I found you sharing with the guys that wanted to take you home with them. For a threesome as I remember rightly.”
International Link: authl.it/B01B8R1P0C