BDSM

Making Him Wait: OUT NOW

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January 23  |  BDSM, Book Publications, eBooks, erotic romance  |   Kay Jaybee

 

Available as an eBook and a paperback; Sinful Press have done a fantastic job getting my BDSM-romance novel ready to hit the world!

Blurb

Maddie Templeton has always been an unconventional artist. Themes of submission and domination pulse through her erotic artwork, and she’s happily explored these lustful themes both on and off the canvas. But, when Theo Hunter enters her life, she is presented with a new challenge. Maddie sets out to test his resolve as she teases, torments and toys with him. However, as Maddie drives Theo to breaking point, she soon becomes unsure whether her own resolve will hold out! At the same time, Maddie must put on the exhibition of a lifetime. As the hottest gallery in town clamours for her best work, Maddie pushes her models harder and higher until they are physically, sexually and emotionally exhausted. Will Maddie’s models continue to submit to her, or will she push them too far? And will she be ready for the exhibition in time? The only way to find out is to wait and see…and the waiting only makes it sweeter!

***

My longest novel to date, this is the second edition of Making Him Wait (the first edition is no longer available). Let me give you a little hint as to what it’s all about…

Maddie Templeton- and she is a game player- a complete control freak- or more accurately – a self-control freak.

When, after years of painting commissions, Maddie gets the chance to have her first ever art exhibition at the newly refurnish Stripped Banana Gallery, she jumps at the chance. But the time she is given to create twelve brand new works of art is short, and only by enlisting the help of her favourite client, Sara (as featured on the cover of the book), and her partner Jake, life model Freya, and by suffering a visit from Tania, her self-centred vamp of an ex-girlfriend, does Maddie have any chance at all of getting her pieces completed on time.

 

Meanwhile, Maddie’s recent meeting with local electrician, Theo Hunter, adds an extra degree of interest to her life. Theo, she decides, would be the perfect man to have a little fun with- but not until after the exhibition is complete. Until that time, he is simply going to have to wait…

High kink all the way, Making Him Wait is a lust fuelled erotic romance that has fun with text sex, straight sex, girl/girl sex…you get the idea!!

If you fancy finding out what happens when Theo and Maddie meet, you can buy Making Him Wait in paperback or as an eBook from all good retailers, including-

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Making-Him-Wait-Erotica-discipline-ebook/dp/B078ZGKLLV

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Making-Him-Wait-Erotica-discipline-ebook/dp/B078ZGKLLV

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/making-him-wait-4 

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/making-him-wait-kay-jaybee/1127821931?ean=9781910908228

iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/making-him-wait/id1336576037?mt=11

Happy reading everyone!

Kay xxx

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Tasty Taster: The Fifth Floor

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January 18  |  BDSM, Book Publications, eBooks, erotic romance, News  |   Kay Jaybee

It’s not long now until my novel, Making Him Wait, hits the world. In the meantime, I thought I’d share a little from my BDSM novel, The Fifth Floor (Book One of The Perfect Submissive trilogy)

 

Here’s a snippet from the very start of Miss Jess Sanders’ adventure…

…Jess was sat at her desk, a half eaten sandwich in one hand; the fingers of her other hand dancing over the computer keyboard. Laura watched her through the office window for a few moments before confidently stepping into the room, interrupting the clerk without hesitation. ‘Mr Davies informs me he has not yet had time to complete your preliminary tour of the hotel.’

Understanding precisely where the manageress intended to take her, Jess spoke carefully, ‘I’ve seen most of it, but not all.’

Without confirming the clerk’s suspicions, Laura said, ‘I have a few moments, so if you’d like to walk this way I’ll complete that area of your training.’ She pointed towards the office door, ‘You are bound to be asked for directions around the place by our guests and it doesn’t look very professional if a member of staff gets lost herself, wouldn’t you agree?’

‘I would, Mrs Peters.’

Although she’d now worked at the Fables for just over a week, Jess still hadn’t looked her boss in the eye once, a fact that sent a buzz of conviction through Mrs Peters; her initial instincts about the girl had been correct.

‘Are you happy here so far, Miss Sanders?’

‘Yes, Mrs Peters. Thank you.’ Jess muttered her response, almost managing to glance directly at her superior, but falling short at her shoulders. Laura’s heartbeat increased in response to the girl’s natural deference. Jess Sanders was just so perfect for what she had in mind.

As they walked towards the staff lift Laura attempted to improve the flow of conversation, ‘And I don’t think you have yet been introduced to all the other members of staff?’

‘Not yet, no.’ Again Jess spoke cautiously, and Laura knew from the expression on her face that she was both fearful and curious about meeting anyone who kept their business arrangements entirely to the Fables upper storey.

‘We are one member of staff down at the moment; one of my assistants has left us for pastures new. I’m searching for a replacement. Master Lee Philips, who works in the bar downstairs, helps me out as and when required, but it’s not an ideal arrangement. He has many other duties, and besides, the fifth floor guests frequently prefer the female touch.’

Following the clerk into the lift it was obvious that no small talk was going to come from her, so Laura calmly kept up her commentary. ‘My associate, Miss Sarah, should be on the premises by 10.00 each morning, unless she has had a complete night session, in which case she is not expected until 2.00 p.m. As I’ve said, Master Philips comes and goes, depending on our requirements and his bar and reception work. Miss Sarah has her first session of the day in a few moments, if we are lucky we should just catch the show.’

Visibly shrinking back, Jess noticed how Mrs Peters walked a little taller now they’d reached her domain. Her face was more set, her back straighter, and somehow she appeared even more intimidating than before. Pushing her hands into the deep pockets of her clinging knee-length black skirt, Jess hid the growing sheen of perspiration on her palms, while trying to ignore the fearful beat of her pulse.

Crossing the threshold of the room, into which she was being firmly steered by the elbow, felt like entering another world to Jess, or rather, another time. Manoeuvred towards a plush red velvet chaise longue, her eyes darting here and there, the clerk was pointedly sat down.

Trying to ignore the light but persistent pressure of Mrs Peters cool hand against her wrist, Jess took in the reproduction William Morris wallpaper, the heavy dark-wood chest of drawers, the floor to ceiling bookshelves, and the faded brown leather wing-backed armchair. Centre stage, only a few metres from where they sat, was a huge writing desk. Its top was inlaid with a square of leather, a portion of which was covered with blotting paper, an accompanying ink well, pots of ink, and nibbed pens.

Jess was reminded of a museum she’d once visited as a child, where rooms from a variety of different houses had been re-created from a number of historical periods. This room had Victorian study written all over it.

The silence was beginning to get to her as she waited, perched rather than sat, on the unyielding seat. A faint voice of hope at the back of her head kept telling her that all this had to be some sort of practical joke, but one glance at Mrs Peters made Jess reconsider. Her eyes kept drifting towards the study door. Whatever she had been brought here to witness surely couldn’t begin until someone came in. Twenty seconds later, each one ticked off by the hammer of Jess’s heart beating, the door swung back with a confident push.

‘Ah, Miss Sarah,’ Laura rose from her seat, a stern glare at Jess telling her not to move. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but Fables has a new member of staff, and I thought it would be a good idea to let her observe one of our sessions.’

Miss Sarah, her face powdered to an ultra-pale complexion, her curling hair pinned up in the style of a Victorian lady, her exquisite outfit historically accurate down to the small white buttons that fastened her stylish black boots, curtsied at once to her superior, ‘Of course, Mrs Peters.’

The stunningly slim woman glanced briefly at Jess, her grey gaze only lingering long enough to acknowledge the stranger, without taking in what she looked like or who she might be. Miss Sarah’s indifference, dismissing the office clerk as an unimportant factor in the room, made Jess feel smaller and more anxious than ever.

The agonising lull continued and Jess’s imagination began to run riot as Miss Sarah sat at the desk in preparation for her client’s arrival. Images of pock-skinned overweight men, panting loudly as they fucked the employees of the fifth floor against the furniture made Jess’s stomach churn, but there was no way out. With a quiet determination that Mrs Peters would have been surprised to know Jess possessed, she thought, if the other members of staff here have survived this part of the tour, then so can I.

As Mrs Peters returned to both the chaise longue and her application of gentle restraint against the clerk’s arm, Jess’s body stiffened. Someone was knocking on the door. Not daring to face her employer, Jess focused on the figure that, after being granted permission to enter, walked meekly into the study.

If he hadn’t had his neck bent, his face to the floor with respect for Miss Sarah, who greeted him with a sharp ‘Good Morning’, Jess judged he would have been quite tall. And he was young; not the sweaty, aged bank manager Jess had conjured up in her head, but a man in his late 20s or early 30s, with a shaven face, short spiked ginger hair, and well built limbs. He was dressed as a servant, perhaps a stable hand. Jess was automatically reminded of Lady Chatterley’s Lover. Gulping against her dehydrated throat, unwilling to see the sex that she was sure was about to follow, the clerk dropped her eyes, only to have her chin roughly jerked upwards by Mrs Peters, ‘No, child. You will observe. You will learn.’

A patina of panic gripped Jess. Every hair on the back of her neck stood to attention. Until that moment it had been unreal. She hadn’t let go of the hope that at any minute someone was going to turn around and say, ‘OK, Jess, it’s just a joke. We play it on all the new girls. Let’s grab a coffee.’ No one did though. No one was saying anything…

****

eBooks 

US Kindle- https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077XW59P2?ref_=pe_2427780_160035660

UK Kindle- https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B077XW59P2/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1512491415&sr=1-1&keywords=The+Fifth+Floor+Kay+Jaybee

Canada Kindle- https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B077XW59P2/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1512491682&sr=1-1&keywords=The+Fifth+Floor+Kay+jaybee

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/765157

B&N – ebook – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-fifth-floor-kay-jaybee/1127595291?ean=2940154644478 

Paperbacks

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/Fifth-Floor-Erotic-Perfect-Submissive/dp/1973344386/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1512590868&sr=1-1&keywords=The+Fifth+Floor+Kay+Jaybee

Amazon.com – https://www.amazon.com/Fifth-Floor-Erotic-Perfect-Submissive/dp/1973344386/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1512591770&sr=1-2&keywords=The+Fifth+Floor+by+Kay+Jaybee

 

Happy reading everyone,

Kay xxxx

 

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New contract. New look. Making Him Wait is back!

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January 13  |  BDSM, Book Publications, eBooks, erotic romance, News  |   Kay Jaybee

It is with great excitement that I can announce my new contract with the fabulous Sinful Press! They have taken on my popular paint spattered erotic romance, Making Him Wait.

Just look at this wonderful new cover!

Using the premise of self-control as its central theme, Making Him Wait, takes modern BDSM erotic romantic fiction and gives it an extra nudge into the realm of an artists studio.

Blurb-

Maddie Templeton has always been an unconventional artist. Themes of submission and domination pulse through her erotic artwork, and she’s happily explored these lustful themes both on and off the canvas.

But, when Theo Hunter enters her life, she is presented with a new challenge. Maddie sets out to test his resolve as she teases, torments and toys with him. But, as Maddie drives Theo to breaking point, she soon becomes unsure whether her own resolve will hold out!

At the same time, Maddie must put on the exhibition of a lifetime. As the hottest gallery in town clamours for her best work, Maddie pushes her models harder and higher until they are physically, sexually and emotionally exhausted. Will Maddie’s models continue to submit to her, or will she push them too far? And will she be ready for the exhibition in time?

The only way to find out is to wait and see…and the waiting only makes it sweeter!

****

To celebrate the re-release of Making Him Wait, I thought I’d share a  juicy extract to whet your appetite.

Ignoring the buzz of her mobile phone, Maddie placed the worn stub of charcoal to the side of her easel and took a step back from the girl before her.

Maddie nodded with approval as her newest model – a petite blonde – flexed the muscles she’d been keeping stock still for the previous half hour.

“Control, Freya – at least the appearance of control – is everything.” The artist reached out an affectionate hand to her muse.

Freya rocked a little on her bare feet as Maddie touched her lightly freckled cheek. “No need to look so worried, honey. You are doing brilliantly. It’s a difficult pose to hold for so long.”

“Thank you.” Blushing an endearing shade of pink, Freya lowered the hands she’d nervously clenched before her, giving her employer another chance to see the neat triangle of her semi-shaved pussy.

Maddie, her jeans and t-shirt smeared and spattered with all the mediums of her trade, did not feel the need to mention to Freya that her own knickers were sodden, nor that beneath her holster bra, her nipples were rock hard.

A further buzz from her mobile alerted Maddie to the arrival of another text message. In fact a steady string of muffled noises from her mobile, coming from the pit of her handbag, had been announcing the arrival of texts every ten minutes or so throughout the morning.

Smiling to herself, Maddie continued to disregard her phone and considered the exquisite outline of her companion’s porcelain frame. Most people came to Maddie to be drawn or painted, sometimes as a commission for a lover, husband or wife. Some, however, like Freya, came to the studio as a way of improving their self-confidence. Despite her generally shy demeanour, Freya had proved to be very good at posing as Maddie required and the artist had offered her an occasional job as a life model.

Sometimes Maddie felt she was more therapist than artist – specifically a sex therapist – as men and women alike shared their most intimate secrets while standing on the other side of her easel. Maddie’s studio certainly had the air of an erotic fantasy confessional about it. She wasn’t complaining, however. No other life would do for her now. The job satisfaction Maddie achieved from listening to the dreams and fantasies of others while she recreated them onto canvas, went hand in glove with the personal physical gratification it gave her.

Money being either plentiful or non-existent, depending on the current success of her commissions and sales, Maddie had been forced to develop an alternative form of payment for her models – a reward system for good work. Maddie could tell from the rise and fall of Freya’s chest and the glistening damp skin at the top of her thighs, that she was more than ready to be paid for today’s session.

Closing in on her model, Maddie simultaneously cupped Freya’s slick pussy and left breast with her charcoal-blackened hands, causing an involuntary shiver to ripple through the younger woman’s body.

“Your progress really is outstanding, honey. Few of my models can stay as motionless as you can.” Congratulating Freya on her skill, Maddie left two dark palm prints on the girl’s tits and tapped at the inside of her legs. “Open up. I think you have deserved a treat after all your hard work.”

Gliding her palm over Freya’s mound, Maddie slipped a gentle finger into the slippery canal of the model’s frantically clutching sex, enjoying the murmured mew of contentment that escaped from her lipstick-free mouth.

Pumping gently, the artist brought Freya close to orgasm with steady increases and decreases of pressure – her own mind straying to her mobile. Maddie wondered where Theo was and what he was doing. She knew what he was thinking about. She always knew that. Theo thought about her.

Pushing her happily sex-drugged model onto an armchair, Maddie’s own arousal kicked up a notch as she bent to lick Freya’s nub, swiftly bringing her to the dawn of a shuddering release.

While continuing to take pleasure in the sweet taste of another woman on her lips, Maddie considered how she’d phrase her responses to all the messages Theo had sent and how she’d tell him precisely what and who had held up her replies.

Inhaling Freya’s climactic scent, Maddie’s hands roamed up and over the small, orgasm-jacked body, her thoughts still with Theo. His work-calloused right hand was probably on his dick at that very moment. A heady hit of power consumed Maddie – a power as intense as the climax of the woman panting hard in the chair before her.

Maddie loved making him wait…

****

You won’t have to wait much longer before you can buy Making Him Wait!

The paperback and eBook versions will be out by the end of January…just watch this space..

***

Many thanks for dropping by today to help share in my excitement! Cakes and vino all round I think!

Kay xx

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Wednesday on Thursday: The Inspiration

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January 11  |  BDSM, eBooks, erotic romance, News  |   Kay Jaybee

As I continue to celebrate the first birthday of Wednesday on Thursday, I thought I’d talk a little about the inspiration behind the story.

Like all authors, I get my inspiration from everywhere and anywhere- and it doesn’t always wait patiently to be invited into my imagination. Often it rudely trespasses across my mind, shoving aside the plotlines I’m already working on, with the audacity to declare that it needs writing up right now!

The queue of ideas in my head from unexpected explosions of inspiration is incredibly long. As a consequence, it was over a year after I’d had the initial idea for Wednesday on Thursday before I had the chance to scribble down the initial plot outline. It was another six months after that when I had time to begin to write this story of words, sex and coffee.

And the initial inspiration… there was a man sat in the corner of my local coffee shop. He had a very particular sort of smile on his face as he bent over his newspaper, and espresso in one hand, and a pen in the other. I didn’t know him, but there was something about him that screamed out loud and clear that his mind was full of images that had nothing at all to do with the newspapers crossword he’d know started to do.

His expression, the strong smell of coffee and the partly completed crossword started something snowballing my imagination…words turn me on. Intelligence turns me on more…and a nice smile…well…I risked a covert glance at his eyes. Well- that was that- I had found the hero for Wednesday on Thursday. I still have no idea how I didn’t sit down and start writing the story there and then- must have been the novel deadline I had looming! I also have no idea how I kept my eyes off him for the rest of the morning…Okay…so maybe I didn’t!

Blurb

There are rumours that the coffee guy has “a thing” about words.

Shrugging off her friend’s concern about the way the man in the cafe stares at her every lunch hour, Wednesday can’t see how his love of words could possibly be hazardous.

The fact is, Wednesday rather enjoys being the centre of an attractive man’s undivided attention. His dark blue eyes alone have provided her with many delicious erotic fantasies, a welcome distraction from the pressures of the real world and a dull job.

It’s totally harmless…

…until there’s an accident with a cup of coffee.

After soaking Wednesday with a hot latte, the coffee guy’s attention suddenly becomes far more enticing—and dangerous.

Drawn into a bizarre world of human behavioural research, where crosswords are used to initiate sexual experiments, Wednesday finds herself driven, not by a desire to further scientific research, but by the need to be rewarded for her hard work by the coffee guy’s captivating research assistant.

A stunning redhead by the name of Thursday…

***

Here’s another little snippet from my sexy crossword, coffee, and threesome based novella…

Extract from Wednesday on Thursday

… Wednesday had selected her clothes with more care than usual. She told herself she was wearing her best underwear because it gave her more confidence. It was absolutely not because she’d spent a largely sleepless night dreaming of the coffee guy’s expression as he ran his shrewd gaze over her jet black satin bra with matching knickers.

With one extra button open on her shirt, Wednesday left her flat, raking her hand restlessly through her long chestnut hair. She kept telling herself that he was just a bloke who got off on the power of making her feel sexy. That was perfectly all right by her, because he clearly had no intention of doing anything beyond titillating her imagination.

Wednesday had experienced her fair share of relationships during her twenty-nine years, but no-one had ever managed to arouse her with a single glance before.

‘For goodness sake, woman, you don’t even know his name!’ Even though she kept trying to talk sense into herself, the four hours until lunchtime couldn’t pass fast enough.

By the time her break finally arrived, Wednesday thought her heart was going to thud right through her chest with nervous tension. Walking into the cafe, she was more than usually aware of the sound of her heels clattering across the wooden floor.

Wednesday forced herself not to look for him, to just queue up for her latte and toasted sandwich as she always did. Even though she managed to prevent herself from obviously surveying the busy room, she covertly hunted for him nonetheless.

He wasn’t there. A sensation of disappointment gripped her. She felt stupid; humiliated even. But only briefly.

There was an envelope on her regular table.

Sitting down with her food and drink, Wednesday gaped at the cream coloured envelope. Her name was written in clear script across its front.

Wednesday took a soothing sip of her drink as she wondered if the coffee guy was hidden nearby. She had an uneasy feeling that, if he was secretly observing her, he’d be getting off on watching her reactions. Struggling to steady her erratic breathing, Wednesday was more than a little aware that her tits were doing their best to burst through their satin holster.

Exhaling slowly, she opened the envelope.

The words had an instant impact on her internal temperature gauge. Wednesday’s body began to alternate between flushing with heat and shivering with cold, as if she was getting a fever and a chill at the same time.

 Dear Wednesday,

Forgive my rudeness for not having properly introduced myself before now.

My name is Lucas.

I will be blunt. I find you fascinating, and would like to make love to you. I would like to say my intentions are honourable, but they are not. They are lust-driven, and I feel it only fair you know that from the start.

If you are interested in knowing more, then please come to the address below once you have consumed your toasted sandwich. If you choose not to visit, then I will leave you in peace from this moment forward.

Whatever your decision, I would prevail upon you to keep this correspondence private.

Flat 1.

56 Chambers Way.

Regards,

L x

P.S. I apologise for the coffee incident. I trust I did not damage you. I will make the sincerity of my regret known to you should you decide to be my guest.

Wednesday didn’t finish her lunch.

Her legs had started taking her in the direction of Chambers Way without bothering to ask the rest of her if it was a good idea or not.

She knew the address.

The building, a private block of flats, was only two hundred metres from the office block where Wednesday had been employed as an administration clerk for the past two years.

Knowing she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t find out what was within Flat 1, with her pulse racing, Wednesday hovered outside a dark green front door.

A door that led to Lucas and whatever he planned to do by way of an apology.

Without allowing herself to think about what she was doing, Wednesday knocked twice…

***

Buy Links

UK- https://www.amazon.co.uk/Wednesday-Thursday-Kay-Jaybee-ebook/dp/B01N5SOMT0/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1485329803&sr=8-1&keywords=Wednesday+on+Thursday+Kay+Jaybee

USA- https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N5SOMT0?ref_=pe_2427780_160035660

Canada- https://www.amazon.ca/Wednesday-Thursday-Kay-Jaybee-ebook/dp/B01N5SOMT0

Happy reading!

Kay xx

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Happy 1st Birthday Wednesday

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January 5  |  BDSM, eBooks, erotic romance, News  |   Kay Jaybee

This month sees the first birthday of my ultra kinky psychological, word loving, coffee sipping, threesome filled, sexual behaviour research experimenting novella, Wednesday on Thursday

Wednesday on Thursday

Blurb

There are rumours that the coffee guy has “a thing” about words.

Shrugging off her friend’s concern about the way the man in the cafe stares at her every lunch hour, Wednesday can’t see how his love of words could possibly be hazardous.

The fact is, Wednesday rather enjoys being the centre of an attractive man’s undivided attention. His dark blue eyes alone have provided her with many delicious erotic fantasies, a welcome distraction from the pressures of the real world and a dull job.

It’s totally harmless…

…until there’s an accident with a cup of coffee.

After soaking Wednesday with a hot latte, the coffee guy’s attention suddenly becomes far more enticing—and dangerous.

Drawn into a bizarre world of human behavioural research, where crosswords are used to initiate sexual experiments, Wednesday finds herself driven, not by a desire to further scientific research, but by the need to be rewarded for her hard work by the coffee guy’s captivating research assistant.

A stunning redhead by the name of Thursday…

***

I had so much fun writing Wednesday’s story. I had her adventure in my mind a long time before I had the chance to actually sit down and write it. Such has been the lovely feedback from my readers, that I intend to do a sequel- ‘Thursday on Friday.’ By the time I’ve finished I hope to have covered the whole week…

To help celebrate Wednesday’s birthday, I’m sharing Chapter One…

Wednesday on Thursday

Chapter One

His hands moved so fast that Wednesday didn’t register what was happening until her top was by her ankles. A large palm  came to her neck. She was pinned to the spot, and her bra was tugged down until it lodged beneath her breasts. Then a pair of masculine lips greeted her right nipple.

A delicious wave of climatic shock spun her head with images of what the man with the dark blue eyes might do once he tired of feasting on her chest. Of what it would be like to experience his agile tongue lapping at her pussy, over her butt, around her…

‘Wednesday!’

Snapping out of her recurring fantasy, Wednesday Taylor blushed. ‘Sorry, Carol. I was thinking.’

‘Again?’ Carol smiled. ‘Come on, who is it that’s captured your imagination and lured it away from the paradise of data input? Every time I look at you you’re miles away.’

‘No one. I was planning a holiday.’

‘If you expect me to believe that, then you must think me blind as well as stupid.’ Perching on the edge of Wednesday’s desk, Carol shoved a pile of papers to one side. ‘It’s that guy from the café, isn’t it?’

‘Which guy?’ Wednesday deliberately kept her eyes on her screen.

‘Come off it, Nez. The one who can’t take his eyes off you. Until you take a quick look at him, that is. Then he studies his espresso cup with an expression that suggests he’s trying to work out its molecular structure.’

‘The man to whom you are referring sits in a corner.’ Wednesday flapped away the suggestion with a wave of her hand. ‘He is automatically observing everyone because his seat oversees the entire cafe. I really was contemplating the advantages of Portugal over Spain.’

Carol rolled her eyes and sighed. ‘If you say so, but be careful.’

‘Use a high factor sun screen on the beach, you mean?’

Getting to her feet, Carol seemed to give up on her pursuit of gossip. ‘Seriously, there are rumours about that bloke. He makes me uneasy.’

Winking playfully, Wednesday said, ‘Rumours? Do tell.’

‘I’m serious! Apparently he has this “thing” for words.’

Putting inverted commas around the word “thing” with her hands as she replied, Wednesday laughed, ‘A “thing” for words. Now that is scary. If you’d said he had a “thing” for sharp blades, I’d have been worried.’

‘I’m serious. It’s weird. He doesn’t just watch the women that appeal to him; he sort of visually dissects them. It’s like he’s hunting for something. Or someone.’

Waiting until Carol had returned to her work, Wednesday opened the top drawer of her desk and stared at the napkin she’d slipped in there an hour ago.

That lunchtime, as usual, Wednesday had been trying not to make it obvious that she was watching the coffee guy as he was watching her, when he’d surprised her by a break in his routine. He had got up to leave the cafe exactly two minutes earlier than usual.

As he passed her table en route to the exit he’d almost brushed her shoulder, but not quite. After dropping a napkin lightly onto her lap without uttering a word of explanation, he’d walked out of the door and disappeared into the afternoon.

Back in the safety of her office, regarding the folded serviette as if it were an unexploded bomb, Wednesday felt her palms prickle with perspiration. By comparison, her throat had gone Sahara dry. Even though he hadn’t looked at her as he’d passed by, Wednesday had the strangest sensation that his inkwell eyes saw straight into her soul. That somehow the coffee guy knew what her late night dreams were about.

And who they featured.

Checking to make sure that Carol wasn’t watching her, Wednesday unfolded the note and read the neat looped writing.

I would very much like to see you, Wednesday, on Thursday. I need to check you weren’t burnt.  Regards.

Thursday? That’s tomorrow. But when tomorrow? Did he mean he wanted to apologise for spilling the coffee? If so, why hadn’t he said so before? The accident was days ago. And what did he mean by I need to check?

Wednesday pictured the coffee guy steering her into the nearest secluded area of town, trapping her between a wall and his six foot frame, ripping open her shirt, passing his eyes over her pale flesh to check for burn marks…

A sudden tightening of her chest made Wednesday drop the note and slam her desk drawer shut. If she carried on like this, not only would she fail to get anything done, but she’d be sat in damp panties for the rest of the workday.

Again…

***

Buy Links

Happy reading!

Kay x

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