Exposure is an erotic thriller with a strong element of romance. Stella, the main character, is probably my favorite of all the protagonists I've created. You can buy your own copy of this novel at Phaze Books
Stella is just minding her own business and having a bit of fun, working as an exotic dancer at the Peacock Lounge. Through no fault of her own, she witnesses a double murder and gets pulled into a shady dance of deceit with political bigwigs, mob bosses, dirty cops and scheming widows. Now she’s everyone’s target; her only chance is to sift through the lies and expose the truth.
Excerpt - Adult
The first bars of the music free me from any anxiety. I fix my eyes on him and begin to move. Graceful. Sensual. I'm extremely turned on, but I want this performance to be classy, not raunchy the way I sometimes am.
The shoes go first. Now I unfasten my jacket, lingering over each button. Building the suspense. I'm wearing regular lingerie, flimsy and feminine, instead of one of my costumes. My breasts are like melons, encased in black lace. No padding or wires on this bra; my nipples are clearly visible, pushing the fabric into sweet little peaks.
I do the classic strip, turning my back and inching the skirt zipper down. Shimmying the garment over my hips to my ankles. I feel his eyes on my rump. When I turn back to face him, I try out the stare on him. The results are mixed.
He's not closed off like his friend. I can see deep into his soul. I see passion, hunger, clean and healthy. Not twisted and painful like some of the guys at the Peacock.
At the same time, though, I feel like he sees into me. It's like he's touching me inside, probing, trying to discover what I want. It's strange and very intimate. His eyes make my clit harden and my juices flow.
But my eyes are doing the same to him. I can see the bulge in his tailored trousers. His breath is coming a bit more quickly, too.
I unfasten the bra in front. Instead of tossing it at him, which is my first idea, I let it drift to the floor. I caress my breasts, as much for my own pleasure as for his. I love their heaviness in my hands. I love the way the skin shades to rich darkness at their tips. And the nipples themselves, round and firm like the best Kalamata olives. I roll them between my fingers, my breath starting to become ragged.
Finally, there are just my bikini panties between me and nakedness. I hold off as long as I can, letting the music build to its climax. At the crescendo, I undo the ribbons at each hip, so the thing just falls away from my body. For a moment I stand there proudly, my curly black pubic hair glistening with my own moisture. Tony's eyes devour me. Then the music dies away. I sink to the carpet in a curtsy, strangely exhausted.
I came here to dance. Just a job. But now I want more. And so does Tony.