Stitch by Nia Farrell

Author promotion.

This Tuesday, I’m pleased to be joined by fellow Wicked Pen, Nia Farrell, and her new release, Stitch.

In the book, Matteo Visconti is a desperate man. Freshly wounded with a bullet in his shoulder, he’s sworn to hunt the man who put it there, but first, the bullet needs out. He kidnaps a doctor from a convenience store at gunpoint, intending to kill her when her usefulness is done.

Bethany Shelton is only a physical therapist, but she manages to remove the bullet and save Matteo’s life. It’s too bad that he can’t afford to let her live, not even after they’ve had one desperate joining. Forced to call for help when infection sets in, Matteo leaves Beth’s fate to his father, Dom Visconti, and his assassin brother Val.

After months of futile searching, Matteo returns home for Italian Fest and learns that Beth is alive. His father gives him the choice to keep her or kill her. When Matteo goes to her house, intending to take what belongs to him, he learns that they have a son.

In this darker, dubious consent Mafia romance, Beth will do anything to stay alive and raise her child. Matteo doesn’t hesitate to drag her down into his world. He’ll make her want to stay despite the danger, despite the pain. But when you marry into the mob, you don’t just get a crime family, you get their enemies, too.

Stitch is a full-length, standalone erotic romance written for Ages 18+. Check out a steamy excerpt from the book…

***

“I shouldn’t want you,” he grated, his breath still minty from when she’d helped him brush his teeth after supper. “But I can’t stop thinking about you. With the cashier. With that mother at the checkout. You, without a stitch, lying on the seat of my SUV, looking so peaceful. So pure of heart. I promised myself that I wasn’t going to touch you again. You don’t know who I am. What I’ve done. What I’ll have to do as soon as I can go again. There’s a monster out there who needs put down. He takes women, shares them with his club, and kills them. He raped my cousin. I promised to avenge my family’s honor. I failed once. I won’t rest until he’s stopped.”

Stopped…as in dead.

Matteo was not the kind of man that most parents envision for their daughter. He had no qualms about killing someone who deserved it. He was willing to be judge, jury, and executioner if it meant that justice would be served when the legal system failed.

The intensity in his eyes was mesmerizing. She wet her lips and swallowed hard.

“You should have run away as far and as fast as you could go.”

“You pointed a gun at me.”

“It was empty. It’s still empty unless you found bullets and reloaded it. But I needed help. I’m just sorry it was you.”

He thrust himself against her hand. Beth realized that her fingers were still wrapped around his girth, or as far as they could reach, anyway.

He had needed her, but the nature of his needs had taken a very carnal turn. In another time, another place, she might have been seduced into having a one-night stand with a handsome, well-dressed man possessing an air of danger and an impressive cock. But now…

If she fought him, she could hurt him. If he didn’t take it easy, he could start bleeding internally again, and this time, she might not be able to stop it.

Would it really be so bad, to give herself to him just this once? No right, no wrong. Nothing but elemental need and what it took to assuage it.

“Matteo—”

“You were my angel of mercy,” he murmured, his voice grown rough with desire. “Have mercy on me now.”

He cupped her head and urged her face down to his. Rather than risk hurting him, she surrendered to her own rising passion.

They came together with opened mouths and parted lips. Tongues thrust, twining around each other in a dance as old as humankind. Forsaking her hold on his manhood, she unzipped her pants, hooked her fingers in the tops of her panties, and shoved everything down. Kicking them aside, she climbed on the bed and straddled him, riding the ridge of his cock and stimulating his length while his mouth continued to consume hers.

He claimed one breast with his good hand, splaying his large fingers, rubbing and squeezing it. Her hardened nipple prodded his palm. Catching it between his fingers, he rolled and tugged on it, a pull that she felt all the way to her core.

She threw off her shirt, wanting to feel his mouth on her breasts. Pushing them together, she offered herself to him, rising up to meet his mouth and welcoming the feel of his lips claiming one, then the other. He took a nipple between his teeth and teased it with his tongue, licking, flicking, curling around it and sucking it inside. He feasted on her flesh like a starving man, a desperate man, a wounded man with an uncertain future, seeking to make the most of the time that was left to him.

She didn’t want to think that he might die. She wasn’t ready to accept that this might be the last act of his life. The last time that he’d know the joy of a woman’s body and the comfort of her touch. She gave it to him, all the while bargaining with God to do what He could to save him. He might be a dangerous man, but he wasn’t a bad man. Not really. He was lonely and vulnerable and likely as scared as she was that things might not end well.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, seeking to reassure him when he pushed down the front of his sweatpants and freed his cock. “It’s okay,” she said when he bent his knees and started to enter her, skin to skin, with nothing separating them. She wasn’t about to raise the subject of condoms with a man who might be dying.

He claimed her in one desperate, searing thrust that took her breath away.

***

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Telenovela (South of the Border 1)

Author promotion.

Happy sinful Sunday to you! Today, I’m thrilled to be able to bring you the latest hot release from fellow Wicked Pen author, Sabrina Devonshire. In Telenovela, César is a famous Mexican Telenovela star. Women constantly throw themselves at him, and he’ll be into one for a short time before moving on. Long-term relationships spell danger for César. People he loves end up dead. That’s why Camila can never know she’s more to him than a one night stand. But he has to find a way to preserve their working relationship because the show must go on…

Camila nearly gave up her dream of becoming an actress. After three years of auditioning, all she has to show for it is a dead-end office job. Then, a business trip to Puerto Vallarta puts her in the right place at the right time. Suddenly, she’s a pampered star on The Sands of Time, one of Mexico’s hottest Telenovelas. Soon acting and reality become intertwined, as her co-star, César, is too hot to resist on set or off it. She knows César’s trouble, but what she doesn’t know is that her dalliance with him could be deadly.

Ready for an excerpt to whet your appetite? Look no further…

***

I’m walking barefoot close to the shoreline. The ocean waves crash and lap over my feet. The water’s cool, but refreshing. Even in March, it’s in the low 80s. The bright sun coats the endless stretch of sea with flickering diamonds. A few puffy clouds drift across the azure sky. I release a long, satisfied exhale. This is the best day I’ve had in so long. It feels amazing to be outdoors instead of confined to a windowless room.

People lounge in chairs under the bright blue umbrellas, sipping drinks from straws. Others stroll along the beach. Some of the children run across the sand, while others splash and play in the shallow water.

Like LA’s Venice Beach, here there are more male couples than heterosexual couples walking the beach. But on this Puerto Vallarta beach, they seem uninhibited and unconcerned that anyone will judge them. Wearing tight, colorful bikini briefs, the men openly kiss or hold hands with their partners. The energy of this place moves me. The tension that usually constricts my neck and shoulders has melted away. The slower pace of Mexico seems to be contagious. I feel happy and relaxed and so does everyone I see. The rushed pace of La La Land doesn’t exist here.

A Mexican guy greets me with a “Buenas tardes.” He probably thinks I’m a local.

I automatically answer in Spanish, glancing at him long enough to notice that he’s reasonably attractive. But then I notice the drop-dead gorgeous guy walking up behind him. Any woman’s gaze would be drawn toward him like a magnet. Wow. His beautifully shaped lips alone are enough to make me salivate. And I love his hair—shoulder-length and straight and thick enough to tangle your fingers in when you kiss him. Dios mío, what am I thinking. Giving his amazing body the once over doesn’t do a thing to help me clear my head. Maybe I should keep my gaze focused above his neck. His blue-green eyes, accented by thick brows, glance my way. My mouth falls open when he starts walking toward me. I look behind me to see if maybe there’s another woman there, but there isn’t. This is crazy.

“Buenas tardes,” he says. “Cómo está?” He slows down. Not only is he greeting me, he’s trying to start a conversation with me.

My heart beats faster. Does he always talk to strangers? I guess if he wants to talk to random women on the beach, it should be easy enough. What woman wouldn’t talk to him? I’m surprised he doesn’t have a horde of them hovering, he looks so delectable. I clear my throat, not sure what to say. I stutter out a greeting. He continues speaking to me in Spanish.

“I’m César. Cómo se llama?”

“Mucho gusto. I’m Camila.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Camila.” I like the sound of my name flowing off his lips. His full and very sexy lips. He extends a hand.

I reach out to shake it. Electricity shoots up my arm leaving me feeling lightheaded. My mouth must have fallen open. It’s been forever since I’ve felt attraction like this or even thought about a relationship or falling in love. There’s no time for men when your life is a non-stop financial struggle. I haven’t had a serious relationship since acting school.

“It’s great meeting you, too. Do you live here? Or are you visiting?” His voice is warm and inviting, his eyes so large and alive. The blue and green flecks in his irises remind me of the sea, the way they constantly change color.

“Visiting. I live in Los Angeles.”

“Oh, you live in America. Are you near Hollywood?”

I involuntarily clench my jaw. There’s no way I’m going to mention the seedy neighborhood I live in. “I live in a suburb not too far from there. How about you?”

“I grew up in Puerto Vallarta. Now I split my time between living here and in Mexico City.”

“I was born in Mexico City. My parents moved to the US when I was eight. Are you working here? Or are you on vacation?”

“I’m working as usual. We are here filming.”

“Filming? How interesting. The company I work for is here to film scenes for the American soap opera, Days and Nights of Desire.”

His eyes widen and when he smiles, I see a perfect row of sturdy white teeth. His smile ratchets his amazing looks up to a whole new level. The man’s gorgeous and he probably knows it. He must be an actor. Every woman in Mexico would die to watch whatever show he’s in.

César looks directly into my eyes. “I knew you were an actress. You have the look.”

My shoulders slump forward and I muffle my sigh. Wait until he finds out what I really am. “I wish. I studied to be an actress and auditioned for a part in this show, but I got offered a job as an office assistant.” I wait for him to politely end the conversation and make his escape.

He steps in closer and his brows draw together in disgust. “Office assistant? What were they thinking?”

More tingles race through my body at his nearness. His body is to die for. His black T-shirt stretches across his muscular chest and his rock-solid bicep and tricep muscles flex and bunch when he moves his hands expansively through the air as he talks. I shrug. “I didn’t fit their concept of evil seductress I guess.”

“The producer must be blind. You have what it takes to be a star, Camila. I recognized it the instant I saw you.”

He’s really laying it on thick. He must be trying to seduce me. Not that I mind all that much. At least he didn’t bolt when he heard I have a grunt job. “You’re very kind. How about you? Are you an actor?”

“Yes. I play the role of Juan in a Telenovela, The Sands of Time.”

“And you’re filming here?”

“Yes. We are shooting scenes of me meeting my next love interest.”

“That’s exciting.” I feel jealous just thinking about him entangled between the sheets with his co-star. Wouldn’t I like to have that job?

“It would be, but we have a very big problem. And I am thinking maybe you can help us solve it.” He gazes at me in a penetrating way that shows he’s analyzing not only my looks, but trying to see deeper. It takes my breath away.

There’s an awkward pause before I answer. “I-I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You’ll see in a minute. Please come with me.” He wraps his strong fingers around my forearm and gently tugs to urge me to come with him.

That touch sends another current of electricity ricocheting through my body. I want to be near him. Maybe I even crave the wild affair he seems after. But this is a very bad idea. César is a complete stranger. He could take me anywhere. “Oh, no, I really can’t. I don’t even know you.”

“I want you to meet some people. They’re under that row of umbrellas.” He points off in the distance. I’m not sure who he’s pointing toward because there are hundreds of umbrellas on this beach and almost every beach chair is full. But I shake off my fears. Meeting a group of people on this beach can’t be any more dangerous than taking a public bus in LA. César releases my arm and starts walking faster.

I speed up too, but my feet slip in the deep sand as I struggle to keep up with him. I manage to gasp out, “I don’t understand. Who do you want me to meet?”

“My movie crew, of course. You have the looks. And the personality we need. Your luck is about to change. You’re about to become the hottest new Mexican telenovela star.”

***

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The Dragon’s Gift by Angora Shade

Author promotion.

Today, I am thrilled to be joined by my fellow Wicked Pen, Angora Shade, who brings news of her exciting new venture with Radish!

Releasing exclusively on Radishfiction.com for the month of October, beginning Wednesday October 11th, is Choose Your Pleasure: The Dragon’s Gift, a Lesbian Tale.

In this unique title, you become the main character, the story design yours to create. In addition to the original story thread, there are multiple new pathways to choose from, five different love interests, and a dozen possible endings. Will you find a happily ever after, a content existence, or a situation that completely surprises you? The choice is yours…
“You,” the college student, have been in love with Maxine as long as you can remember, but Maxine is straight, isn’t she? Despite feeling you have little chance, you sit through Maxine’s latest theatre performance about a dragon to show your never ending support as her best friend. Besides, Maxine’s promise of a surprise for you following the show has piqued your interest. But what happens at the show? Do you bump into an old flame, meet a busty beauty, connect with a curly haired stranger, lose your sanity, or curl up next to the love of your life? In the dark, under the stage, inside a restroom or a bar, the allure and desire for a happy ending is within reach… Choose wisely.

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Sounds fascinating, right? Grab your copy here!

Find out more about Angora Shade at the following places:

Radish Fiction: @AngoraShade

If you enjoy your naughty romances to be historical, with BDSM and spanking, add my most recent release to your reading list… Taming Lady Lydia – sensual, potent Regency romance!

What do readers say?

A five star read, from beginning to end!

… a captivating story and I hope to read much more from this author.

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Keeper: Avenging Angels MC!

Author promotion.

Today I am thrilled to once again host my fellow Wicked Pen author, Nia Farrell. Her upcoming new release, Keeper: Avenging Angels MC (Book 2) is out next month, so she’s here to whet our appetites with some juicy details about the book!

Luke “Mad Dog” McLanahan and Isabella Castellari have a history. Kind of. He’s a member of the Avenging Angels MC and one of four brothers whom she thinks slept with her sister three years ago. Or did they? Nothing is as it seems. Isabella’s world is turned upside down when lies are exposed, truths revealed, and the man she’s been fantasizing about for three long years makes her an offer that she should refuse but can’t.

When Mad Dog recognizes Isabella stranded on a rural country road, remembering her toxic sister, he almost doesn’t stop. Seeing her as an end to a means, he brings her back to the Avenging Angels MC clubhouse and quickly learns that she’s different—very different—than what he expected. She’s a curious innocent, and willing to submit to his domination. But there are complications.  A mob boss uncle, protective parents, a traitorous friend, and secrets that have been kept for far too long. Secrets that will either bind them together or tear them apart.

This book has adult content and may contain triggers. Written for ages 18+.

Ready for a naughty little excerpt? Go on then (but be warned this is for adults ONLY!)

 ***

He couldn’t deny, it was a huge ego stroke to know that he was her first.  But she was also Isabella F**king Castellari.  Never Miss Little Italy like her sister, but they shared the same blood ties to the f**king mob.

 Of course, Isabella didn’t know that he knew about her crime family connection.  He’d been keeping too many f**king secrets for too f**king long.  Her sister Krissy and her Uncle Giovanni were just some of many.

 Rather than open that can of worms, he chose a safer subject.

 “So, tell me.”  Reaching, he smoothed her hair back from her face and traced the line of her jaw with two fingers.  “Before tonight, did you know that Anna was seeing Richie?”

 She sighed softly.  “No.  I mean, I thought that she was seeing someone, but she always had an excuse.  Usually, it was homework, but then we graduated and she was still too busy.”

 F**k.

 Mad Dog forced his voice to stay calm.  “How old are you, Isabella?”  Please tell me you’re not jail bait on top of a mob boss’s niece.

 “I turned eighteen on March sixth.  Michelangelo’s birthday.  And the day the Alamo fell, if you’re into Texas history.  How old are you?”

 “Thirty.”  Twelve years her senior.  He rubbed a hand across his face and blew out softly.  “Jesus, that sounds old.”

 Reaching across, she caught his dog tags, weighed them in her hand, and said solemnly, “You’re not old.  You’re experienced.  And I’m hoping that you’ll teach me.”

 He levelled a look at her.  He needed to be honest, at least in this.  “Clubhouse life isn’t for everyone,” he told her.  “We do things different here.  We’re all in the BDSM lifestyle as well as the club.  The men here Dominate.  The women submit.  Did you read Fifty Shades or watch the movies?”

 Isabella nodded.

 “Well, f**k that shit.  That’s not how things are done.  You want to learn?  We’ll get cleaned up and go downstairs.  The lounge is your classroom.  You’ll learn things there that they don’t teach in college.  Are you signed up to go anywhere this fall?”

 “SIU,” she said.  “For photography and graphic design.”

 He remembered the point-and-shoot he’d found in her purse.  “You a shutterbug?”

 “You could say that.  I took my first picture when I was four.  Got my own camera when I was six.  I never leave home without one.”

 “And the graphic design?”

 “You know all those books on my reader? Someone does the covers.  Might as well be me.  Take the pictures, offer premades and customs.  It’s something that I think I’d enjoy and be good at.  I’ve already done one for my cousin.  She uses a pen name so that no one knows she writes erotica.  She tells people that she’s a ghost writer and can’t disclose anything.”

 “She had you do a cover?  Like, with models?  Naked models?”

 Isabella bit her lip and coiled a strand of hair around her finger.  “Well, it is erotica,” she said coyly.

 He wasn’t smiling.  She was eighteen, for Christ’s sake.  What the hell was her cousin thinking?

 “Just teasing!”  She traced his lips with the pad of her index finger.  He caught it between his teeth and refused to give it back until her eyes had gone smoky and her thoughts were disjointed.  “She, um…”  Isabella cleared her throat and tried again.  “She dressed up like a cheerleader.  The cover shows her chest and midriff.  You…um…you can’t see her face.”

 “Paperback or just e-book?”

 “Both.”  She smiled with quiet pride.  “I have a copy, if you’d like to see it.”

 “I would.”  If they were going to try and make a go of this, he needed to know what she was doing.  What she had planned.  Then he’d expand her horizons where he could.

 “And the graphic design—apart from the book covers.  Can you draw?”

 “Yes.”

 “Paint?”

 Her brow scrunched.  “Yes?  Some?  That’s not my—”

 “Sweet.  You could learn to tattoo.”

 “Wait.  What?”  She looked at him, confused.  He’d gone too fast and lost her.  Now she was trying to get her bearings.

 He shifted gears.  “How about a summer job?  You working anywhere?”

 “No.  I’m taking two online classes. Getting some of the required subjects taken care of so that I can immerse myself in the good stuff come fall.”

 “The club owns a tat shop.  Angel Ink.  Flynn will need to see what you can do, but if you pass muster and want a full- or part-time job, he can use the help.  Front desk scheduling, answering the phone, checking in deliveries.  Normal receptionist-office assistant stuff.  He can teach you on the side, if you want to learn.  Never hurts to learn another job skill, just in case the market for photography tanks, no one’s hiring graphic designers, and your cousin can’t afford what you’re worth.”

 That last bit seemed to perk her up.  “How do you know what I’m worth?” she challenged.  “My professors might think that I suck.”

 He begged to differ.  “As your teacher, I would say that your oral skills need developed, but the student shows promise.  Think you’re ready for your next lesson?”

 Mad Dog caught her hand and wrapped her fingers around his half-hard shaft.  “Just a hint.  The correct answer is yes….”

***

Biker girl riding on a motorcycle. Bottom view of the legs in leather boots.

Yummy, right?!

Read more sexy teasers here, and get ready to grab your copy next month! You can do so at Amazon!

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Tempered Steel Series Books 4-6

Author promotion.

On August 8th, author and fellow Wicked Pen, Maggie Adams brings the Tempered Steel series (books 4-6) to our e-readers!

In this edition, The Coalson family saga continues with only small clues leading to the person responsible for the downfall of the family business and the ever-increasing presence of criminal activity in their small town. They vow to wreak vengeance on those responsible, but unforeseen circumstances may put the brothers and the ones they love in jeopardy.

Brandon and Nick foil an attempt to assassinate a pretty private eye and her sweet sister. Together with Sam and his best SEAL buddies, Jax and Noah, they vow to bring the ringleader to justice and rid their town of the criminals. But nothing goes according to plan, and the men must fight Mother Nature, a murderer, and the local law enforcement. Not to mention that the new secretary, Anna Meeks, is definitely hiding something, and Brandon is determined to uncover her secrets, and the luscious body she’s trying to hide under those ridiculously conservative clothes.

Lucky Coalson’s luck has run out. He’s been accused of murder and it’s up to the Coalsons and the Morgan sisters to find the real killer. Lucky cringes to know that the very woman who threw him in the river is going to be the one to save him from a prison cell. And feisty P. I. Renee Morgan isn’t too happy herself about it because every time she’s near him, her body responds in a very unprofessional manner.

Although Nick Coalson is attracted to the fiery redhead, Rebecca Morgan, her dangerous job makes her off limits, especially as she is almost killed during their investigation. He wants quiet and submissive, not reckless and determined. But her sweet curves and sexy smile are melting his resolve and his heart. When she is kidnapped by a human trafficker, Nick will need the help of an outside source who wants Rebecca for himself. So, who will come out the victor?

Don’t forget to read the story from the beginning with Whistlin’ Dixie, and meet all brothers and the sexy, strong-willed women that win their hearts. Grab the beginning of the saga now!

Buy the new series right here!

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Maggie Adams teaser…

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Replay Book 7: Wing Men…

Author promotion.

Today, I am thrilled to host the awesome Nia Farrell, and her latest new release, Wing Men (Replay Book 7)

This time around at the Replay resort, it’s World War I weekend, and vocalist Lara Eastman is one of the entertainers hired to help bring the past to life.  The offer comes at a time when she’s worried about how to pay her bills.  She accepts the job but declines getting vetted to play—something that she quickly regrets when she meets not one but two very attractive—and very Dominant—pilots.

 Alexander Boulton is the resort owner’s cousin.  This weekend, the handsome Brit is flying a Sopwith Camel against his rival Dmitry Chezhekov, a Russian-born pilot who portrays a German flying ace.  On the ground, the red-haired singer comes under both men’s sights. 

 Lara meets Alex first, but she’s equally attracted to Dmitry.  She rarely hooks up at events, but Alex and Dmitry will prove the exception to her rules.  The truth is, she wants them both.  Unwilling to settle for one when she can have it all, Lara proposes a threesome.

 The men are fierce competitors.  Each is determined to bring her the ultimate in pleasure.  Only one thing is certain.  If they want her, they’ll have to learn to share.

 Written for ages 18+.

Ready to dive into Replay 7? Check out this tempting little teaser…

***

An air raid signal sounded.  German soldiers grabbed their guns and took their places behind the sandbag barriers.  The planes came in low, strafing the field.  Bursts of blank rounds sounded from the German rifles.  Puffs of dirt flew into the air from charges that had been laid earlier.  The way that they detonated, it looked like bullets from the planes were hitting the ground.

Meanwhile, the German pilots were scrambling, climbing in their fighters, strapping on goggles, and preparing to start their engines.  Five ground crew members each took hold of a propeller and gave it a spin.  The radial engines roared to life.  Freed of their wheel chocks, the planes headed for the runway.

Dmitry was the last to take off, but his Fokker’s superb climbing ability allowed him to quickly join the others.  They flew only far enough to turn and meet the British head on.

From her vantage point, Dmitry and Alex’s planes seemed to be on a collision course.  She held her breath and fisted her gloved hands, watching, hoping, trusting that nothing went wrong.  At the last minute, the Sopwith Camel pulled up, barely missing the Fokker.

More passes were made.  Planes were “disabled.”  Billowing trails of blue smoke, the downed German planes landed here.  The “crippled” British planes returned to their imaginary base.

Finally, only three were left.  Dmitry, Alex, and another British pilot engaged in a stunning display of aerial combat, with all the climbs, rolls, and maneuvers that you’d expect in a big-budget motion picture.  Eventually, Dmitry simulated being shot, leaving a trail of smoke as he landed.  The two British planes flew off, victorious after their successful raid.

Cheers broke out from the crowd.  When the applause had quieted, Sir Piers addressed the spectators who’d come out for the morning battle.

“Thank you,” he said.  “What an amazing display!  The pilots shall all return shortly and will be joining us.  Lunch will be served at eleven thirty, to our reenactors, patrons, staff members, and guests.  The next reenactment, scheduled this afternoon at one, will be a German attack on a French airfield.  The final battle today at five pm will be a different version of this scenario.  Meanwhile, the bar will soon be open in the casino tent, where games of chance, music, and conversation may be found for those who wish to stay the day.”

While they had been watching the combat demonstration, a crew of workers had erected yet another tent, yellow striped with two massive center posts and a roof that would cover a one-ring circus.  She guessed that tables, chairs, and equipment were being carried in through a back opening.  The casino’s front door flaps were closed.

“I’m afraid that it is off limits to you, my dear,” Sir Piers said, “where you are not vetted.  Pity, but rules are rules where scenes are concerned.”

“I understand,” she assured him.  “But the day is lovely.  You’ve provided food, and shelter from the sun.  A place to sit and things to see.  I’m hoping to get a closer look at the planes, if they’ll let me.”

“I’m certain that can be arranged.”  He lowered his voice to a dramatic whisper.  “I know people.”

Lara laughed.  “I’m sure that you do.  Hopefully, he’ll be back soon.”

Sir Piers strained his ear, listening.  “I do believe that I hear a familiar stutter headed this way.  Alex should be here shortly.  I must leave soon to check on the situation at home.  With luck, I will not return alone.  We shall see.”

The German soldiers were already headed for the food tent.  The ground crews and pilots followed.  Lara sat in one of four folding chairs at a small round table in a shady corner of the space. With tea to drink and a scone to nibble on, she settled in to people watch.  It always fascinated her when costumed civilians and military reenactors intermingled.  And she loved listening to the reenactors who regaled each other with stories.  It truly was like stepping back in time.

Being a single female, sitting alone and therefore perceived as available, she halfway expected to be approached by the men, and possibly some of the women.  Introducing herself as a non-vetted performer worked like a charm.  Most of these people were here to play.

The only one who seemed to not mind that she couldn’t was Dmitry.  But then, she suspected that he looked upon her as a special challenge.  He took his time coming over, accepting accolades from the other reenactors and chatting with a few other guests.  Helping himself to a plate of late breakfast and a cup of coffee, he headed straight for her.

“I sit here, da?”

Lara managed to not smile.  “If that’s a question—May you sit here?—the answer is yes.  Yes, you may sit with me.”

Dmitry took the chair to her right.  His plate was heavy on protein and lower on carbs.  He spiked his coffee with a dash of whatever he was carrying in an antique silver flask.  Slipping it back inside his brown leather aviator’s jacket, he flashed an unrepentant grin.  “A touch,” he said.  “Safe to fly later.  Safe to sit now.  Tonight, I listen to you.  When done, maybe you listen to me.  We see.”

“Lara.”

Alex’s voice dashed the flame that Dmitry’s smoldering delivery had ignited inside her, but only for a moment.  Alex and Dmitry were rivals in the air, but were they willing to share?  She didn’t want to choose between them.  She wanted them both, if only for the weekend.

Which brought her to all of the obstacles that must be overcome.  She wasn’t vetted.  If the men could be talked into a threesome, it would be vanilla sex in Dmitry’s room at the resort, quiet kink at her bed and breakfast, or permission to use the St. Leger’s Dungeon for a full-blown session of kinky f**kery.

She knew what she wanted.

Lara wanted it all.

“Alex,” Lara chirped, hoping that she managed to sound relatively innocent.  So many naughty thoughts were in her head right now, her mind was doing a spin that would have earned her a nine point five at the Winter Olympics.  “Won’t you join us?”

Dmitry bristled, but she ignored it.  Better to find out now if there was hope for both men tonight.  They would have to agree on a number of things—first and foremost, could they play with her together, or would she need to keep them apart?

Alex looked at his plate, at Dmitry, at her.  “I believe that I shall.  Thank you.”  He took the chair to her left, sandwiching her between them.

 Delicious.

Alex’s plate was a balance of protein and carbs.  He and Dmitry had both taken sausage links and scrambled eggs, but Alex had added hash browns, a biscuit with butter and jelly, and several pieces of fresh fruit.  Dmitry had opted for half a biscuit smothered in sausage gravy and no potatoes.

Dmitry seemed to be enjoying the Russian equivalent of Irish coffee.  Alex drank milk and nodded approvingly at her tea.

“So, tell me,” she said, looking at Alex.  “This morning’s combat.  From down here, it looked like you two were going to take each other out.  When you’re sharing airspace, how close do you get before you pull away?”

He sliced an apologetic glance at Dmitry.  “Today, closer than I like.  The controls were slow to respond.  I’ll check it out before I take her up again.”

Lara took a breath and looked at Dmitry, too.  “You didn’t try to avoid him.  No evasive action that I saw, anyway.””

Dmitry shrugged as if it were no big deal.  “He was close.  I wait.  He move.”

“Well,” she said, glancing at each man, connecting them with her gaze, “I’ve seen you share airspace.  I was wondering if—hoping that?—I might tempt you to share more.  Just so you know, I’m not a trained submissive.  I’ve never done anything much beyond having my wrists tied, wearing a blindfold, and getting spanked.  Pretty vanilla, I know.  But I’m willing, if you are.  Except that not being vetted limits us to what we can do on Replay property.  I’m going to leave you two to figure it out.  Come tonight and hear me sing.  After the concert, you can tell me what you want to do.”

She left them sitting, speechless.  It was a temporary state, she was certain.  While she went to look at the airplanes, they were probably stabbing at their breakfasts and dueling with each other for supremacy.

 There can be only one…

Maybe.

Maybe not.

Could two Doms be in control?  She thought so.  She hoped so.  One thing was certain.  If they wanted her, they’d have to learn to share.

 ***

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