Blurb
Leah’s been happily married for 13 years and they have a great sex life, but her curiosity for something more has her seeking a submissive man.
Carter loves his wife of 22 years, but she refuses to entertain his submissive nature. He secretly joins an online chatroom designed for novice doms and subs.
After chatting for several months, Leah and Carter meet at a hotel to live out their BDSM fantasies.
Will the afternoon live up to their expectations or end in disappointment?
Buy Links
Universal: https://books2read.com/u/baZn8y
Amazon.com:
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08ZSSZPLP/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_hsch_vapi_tkin_p1_i11
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1076049
Apple – https://books.apple.com/us/book/carters-mistress/id1559786578
Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/57515210-carter-s-mistress
Bookbub - https://www.bookbub.com/books/carter-s-mistress-by-pebbles-lacasse
Excerpt
My fist freezes in the air, an inch from the door to room four-twenty. Breathe in through my nose, out through my mouth. Shoulders back. Head high. I’m in control.
Strangely enough, my fear is draining away. It’s as if I’ve flipped a switch and suddenly become someone else, a more powerful woman with a calmness that doesn’t match my tough attitude.
I knock.
The door quickly pops open and reveals a face I’ve never seen but a body that I have. The photos didn’t lie. From what I can see, he’s fit and handsome.
Carter’s sexy mouth slowly forms into a smile. He seems relieved that the woman standing before him is the woman from the photos, but with an unfamiliar face he seems to approve of.
I return his smile and his shoulders ease. Was he worried I wouldn’t approve of his looks? He’s a good-looking man.
His perfectly styled black hair is thick and lush, great for pulling. It’s not all that bright here at the door, so I can’t be positive, but I think his eyes are brown. His smile increases the slight wrinkles worn into the skin on the outer edges of his eyes. His complexion is slightly darker than mine, like a man who works outdoors under a blistering sun.
“You must be Carter,” I say as I offer my hand. There’s a smoothness in my words that has me wondering who spoke. I expected my voice to fail me.
He whispers, “Yes. Leah?”
“That’s me,” I reply with a shrug. “May I come in?”
He blinks quickly as if I’ve just woken him from his deep thoughts. I stride past him on the three-inch high boots with several buckles on the sides that send off a tiny ting with each step. He closes the door and flips the safety latch to ensure nobody can walk in, like a maid, for instance.
He clears his throat as he walks up behind me. “Would you like a drink? I’ve had two.” He runs his hand through his hair and it rests exactly the same as before he had. “I’m nervous.”
He pulls his fluffy hotel robe closed when he realizes the top fell open when he lifted his arm and my focus dropped to his bare chest.
“Yes, please.”
This is a new hotel, and the room is not what most hotel rooms look like. The comforter, folded and resting on the sofa chair, has a grey, red, and purple swirled design that matches well with the grey walls. The artwork prints hanging are a perfect accent to go with the red and purples splashed about the room. It looks clean and crisp in here, not old and stained with other people’s skin cells and bodily fluids. It even smells cleaner than any hotel I’ve ever been in. I like it here.
He pinches his bottom lip between his teeth while his eyes seem seduced by my legs. He holds a glass with bended elbow, but it’s empty. He’s distracted by my thighs and knees that aren’t covered by my short dress.
“You’re nervous?” My voice startles him from his thoughts, and the quickness of his eyes to meet mine answers my question.
“I am,” he confesses, and walks past me to the minibar to fetch me a tiny bottle of whiskey. “Do you want ice?”
I shake my head. He looks away to prepare my drink, and I have to press my hand to my tummy to calm the nervous butterflies. He’s very handsome but worn, like a hardworking man who hasn’t had an easy life. I like his voice; it’s rough and scratchy.
He crosses the room and hands me a glass of amber liquid. I take a big sip and set it on the dresser.
“Would you like to use the washroom before we get started or do you want to talk about, um…” his voice drifts off.
“That depends,” I reply.
He scratches his naked calf with the toes on his bare foot. “On what?”
“On whether you need time. I’m ready to start whenever you are.”
My voice still seems foreign to me. Who is this woman possessing my body? I like her!
He nods with a heavy sigh and a relieved expression. “Good, because if I have to wait any longer, I’ll talk myself out of this, and I don’t want that.”
I tip my head and nod as I smooth my hand down the tummy part of my dress, not to fix the dress, but to calm the flutters. A smile reaches my eyes and I clear my throat. Now he knows I’m nervous, too.
1 comment:
This sounds really good, Pebbles!
I'm looking forward to reading it.
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