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Something for the Weekend: Wednesday on Thursday

This weekend, I’m tempting you with an extract from my sexy word based novella, Wednesday on Thursday 

#somethingfortheweekend 

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 café 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…

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 café, 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 Now

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Happy reading,

Kay x

Something for the Weekend: Yes Ma’am

For this week’s #somethingfortheweekend, I’m treating you to some #femdom action from Yes Ma’am.

Blurb

Could you write your wildest fantasies on your best friend’s boyfriend, or sell your sexual soul to a woman in black?

Find out how far army cadet, Luke Porter, will go to improve his standing within his regiment, and discover the consequences of losing your temper on London’s Underground in this collection of wrist binding, whip wielding, butt spanking tales of female domination.

Yes Ma’am contains six straight and bi-sexual encounters of the S&M nature.

The six stories, each taking a different take on the FemDom experience, are…

Lying in Wait– Cadet Luke Porter is the least successful army recruit in the squadron. His female counterparts are determined to find out how far Luke will go to improve his standing within the regiment…

Black – He is intoxicated by the woman in black. He can’t explain why he needs to see her or why he willing does precisely what she tells him to…

Dear Claire – Ali has secretly lusted over her best friend’s lover Rick, for a long time. At least, she thought it was a secret…

“Don’t You Emma” – Sitting in an armchair has never been so difficult…

Not Taking the Tube – Venting his frustration at being delayed yet again by London’s Underground system on the nearest official, the harassed businessman finds his complaints aren’t received in quite the way he’d expected…

Rachel’s Twisted Tale – Rapunzel never suffered like this….

***

Here’s an extract from “Don’t You Emma.”

… Lee sat back in the leather armchair. She’d told him that all he had to do to get a damn good fucking was to stay in the chair until she decreed otherwise.

As he watched Daisy move around the living room Lee thought, not for the first time, how inappropriately named she was. The name suggested someone meek, gentle and childlike. It didn’t conjure the image of a tall, fit, fake blonde, who could get her rocks off simply by beating your arse until it glowed purple.

She was clearing the space in front of him. The coffee table had already been repositioned to the side of the chair, and the newspapers that usually lay all over the place had been stacked up. All the cushions he’d thrown off the sofa had been neatly placed back where they belonged.

‘You are going to reward me for watching you clean up?’ Lee was amused by this uncharacteristic fit of tidying.

Daisy gave him a stare that would have chilled a lesser man to the bone, but Lee had known her for a long time and all it did was increase the arousal of her promise to give him a good seeing-to.

‘I don’t believe I said you could talk to me while you were waiting.’

‘Come off it, Daisy. You’re only doing the chores.’

Ignoring him, his partner brushed her hands together, and glancing at the increased floor space across the now uncluttered pale green carpet, left the room.

Lee’s imagination had already moved on to what reward he was going to get for being a good, patient boy. He wondered if he’d have to endure a spanking, or if she’d bind or gag him. Flickers of tense longing played in his stomach and stirred his groin.

Glancing at the clock on the corner of the bookcase, he listened to the quiet tick. It seemed to fill the room as he waited with growing impatience for Daisy’s return. He assumed she was fetching her sex toys, or perhaps changing into something less comfortable. It was with a sense of a surprise and unease, however, that Lee heard the front door open and the sound of muffled voices.

Despite only wearing a red T-shirt and some lightweight black combats, Lee suddenly felt rather hot as Daisy re-entered the lounge with company.

The warning glint in Daisy’s eyes confirmed that Lee should stay precisely where he was, his legs outstretched before him, his arms resting on the chair’s soft padded arms, his mouth shut.

His dark brown eyes moved from his lover to the girl with her. About 25 years old perhaps, with long ginger hair that hung in two perfectly tied pigtails. Slim, but with enough of a curve to catch the eye, her green gaze had a keen, eager to please gleam, that just hinted at mischief.

Lee swallowed very carefully. Daisy hadn’t, had she? Not really? He opened his mouth to ask her if he was right, or if his imagination was running away with him. No sound came out though. He didn’t want to risk her saying he was mistaken and ruining the fantasy that roller-coasted around his lust driven head.

The girl, without taking off either the boots or the long winter coat she wore, even though it was a warm summer’s day, answered his unspoken question, as she lowered her head and knelt on the cleared floor before Daisy; her mistress.

‘Oh my!’ His words were barely audible. Daisy either hadn’t heard them or had dismissed them as unimportant. Lee concentrated very hard on breathing; forcing himself to sit still and not lean forward in the chair…

***

You can find out what happened next within the epages of Yes Ma’am via…

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Smashwords 

***

Happy reading,

Kay x

Watching: The Voyeur

One of the biggest attractions in the world of erotica is voyeurism. That feeling of being on the edge of someone’s forbidden world and peeping in- often secretly- is a big turn on. It is also extremely exciting to write from a voyeuristic perspective. I’ve taken this literary route for many of my novels and stories over the years- most obviously for my erotic BDSM ménage thriller/ erotic romance, The Voyeur!

Blurb

Wealthy businessman and committed voyeur, Mark Parker, has a list of thirteen fantasies he is intent on turning into reality. Travelling between his London flat, his plush Oxfordshire mansion, and Discreet, his favourite S&M club; Mark is helped to realise his imaginatively dark erotic desires by two loyal members of his staff. His Personal Assistant, Anya Grant, and his Housekeeper, Clara Hooper.
Upon the backs of his willing slaves, Mark has written out his fantasy list in thick red pen. Only Fantasy 12 awaits the tick of completion against their flesh before Mark’s ultimate fantasy – Fantasy 13 – can take place.
But have the girls performed well enough to succeed in the final challenge? And what hold does the Bridge’s Gentleman’s Club, Anya’s previous employer, have over Mark? A place Anya was only too delighted to escape from.
In order to find out, Mark’s girls are going to have to face some of the fantasies they thought they’d left behind them all over again; and while they do, Mark will watch…

To help celebrate the recent relaunch of The Voyeur, here’s another extract from my dark romance, BDSM, novel.

Extract

Mark took a step closer to his PA. “Tonight,” he said, pulling off Anya’s shirt and bra, exposing her luscious chest to the cool of the room, “you will both face a combination of experiences that together make up Fantasy 12. Won’t it be lovely to be able to tick another task off our list, girls?”

They didn’t answer; experience had taught them that nine times out of ten their employer’s questions were rhetorical.

Mark twisted the women round; removing Clara’s top as he did so, so he could see both his employees’ bare backs. There, in neat script, a permanent pen had been used to write ‘Fantasy 1’, ‘Fantasy 2’ and so on, all the way down–the numbers following the length of their spines, finishing with the words ‘Fantasy 13’. The first eleven rows of black lettering had bright red ticks next to them.

“Only two more tasks left to go.”

This time the girls risked a fleeting glance at each other; exchanging a look of mutual blood-hammering exhilaration twinned with an erotic anticipation it would have been hypocritical to deny.

Mark, during his brief periods of leisure, had painstakingly detailed many lust-driven scenarios he wished to both direct and bring to life. He often wrote notes, accompanied by intricate diagrams of erotic, slightly disturbing, but ultimately satisfying fantasies, in a leather-bound journal that only he was allowed to read.

Anya and Clara knew that the final fantasy, when it came, would be more difficult and different to anything they’d ever previous experienced. They feared it.

They also longed for it.

Mark was a clever man, for as each new task unfolded he pushed his faithful staff along with him, darkening their desires and needs. Changing them so they slowly became closer and closer to his own. Making his girls as keen as he was to see how far they could go. To see how much they could physically take as they accompanied him on his journey of extreme sexual sightseeing.

A cold, clammy sheen of perspiration broke out on Anya’s face, arms, and breasts as Mark danced a finger across her skin. “You will both go to your room and change into the clothes I’ve placed upon your beds. You will remain there until I call you.” Mark pointed to the door, and his employees headed to their small, twin-bedded room without a sound.

As Anya considered some of the things she and Clara had been required to do over the last six months, she privately reassured herself that the trepidation shooting down her spine was understandable and acceptable. It was also irrational, for she knew that Fantasy 12 would not only be tolerable, but enjoyable; and that just because the end of the list was in sight, it didn’t mean the night ahead would involve anything worse than Mark had asked of them before. She could handle this. They both could–no problem.

Then Anya saw her outfit.

Her bed supported nothing but a leather dog collar.

Staring at the total lack of clothing, Anya almost conveyed her horror to Clara, but her lover stopped her with an urgent shake of the head. There was no privacy here, and they never knew if the webcams positioned in every room were switched on or not…

***

If you’d like to know what happened next, discover how Clara became Mark’s second slave, and see how the girls cope with Mark’s extreme list of fantasies, you can buy The Voyeur from all other good retailers, including…

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Apple Books UK
Apple Books US
Barnes & Noble
Kobo
Smashwords

Happy reading,

Kay xxx

Opening Lines: The Voyeur

It’s relaunch day for my dark romance novel, The Voyeur!

To help celebrate, I’m sharing its Opening Lines with you today. 

BLURB

Wealthy businessman and committed voyeur, Mark Parker, has a list of thirteen fantasies he is intent on turning into reality. Travelling between his London flat, his plush Oxfordshire mansion, and Discreet, his favourite S&M club; Mark is helped to realise his imaginatively dark erotic desires by two loyal members of his staff. His Personal Assistant, Anya Grant, and his Housekeeper, Clara Hooper.

Upon the backs of his willing slaves, Mark has written out his fantasy list in thick red pen. Only Fantasy 12 awaits the tick of completion against their flesh before Mark’s ultimate fantasy – Fantasy 13 – can take place.

But have the girls performed well enough to succeed in the final challenge? And what hold does the Bridge’s Gentleman’s Club, Anya’s previous employer, have over Mark? A place Anya was only too delighted to escape from.

In order to find out, Mark’s girls are going to have to face some of the fantasies they thought they’d left behind them all over again; and while they do, Mark will watch…

FIRST 500 WORDS

Chapter One

His evening meal complete, Mark Parker sat back, contentedly sipping his deliberately bitter black coffee. Pulling a small, battered notebook from his pocket, he flicked impatiently thorough several pages of his looped handwriting . His self-restraint, although immense, was beginning to run out.

It was time for them to progress to the end of the list.

Summoning his personal assistant, Anya, and his housekeeper, Clara, to the dining room, Mark allowed himself an internal smile. The women arrived swiftly, both aware of the importance of not keeping him waiting.

Standing on the opposite side of the highly polished dining room table, he observed as his employees visibly braced themselves for the coming instructions.

‘I have decided that we’ll take a trip to Discreet this evening. It is time we turned our attention to the next challenge on my list. Fantasy 12.’ Mark’s cool blue eyes watched; weighing up the reaction of his staff to his announcement.

Discreet was the reason that Mark spent such a large proportion of time in his London flat, rather than in his mini-mansion in Oxfordshire, where his software business was based. It was only at Discreet, the most exclusive of the city’s BDSM clubs, that his increasingly imaginative fantasies could be publicly appreciated; most of which involved the intimate observation of other people’s erotic aspirations. Mark Parker was the ultimate voyeur.

Trying hard not to exchange glances with her colleague, Anya could sense the stiffening of Clara’s body as they listened to their boss. She knew that the housekeeper’s mind, like her own, would already be racing; madly trying to guess what Mark’s latest erotic scenario would involve. Having survived fantasies one to eleven, the women had no illusions about the nature of the challenges they were likely to experience during the evening that loomed ominously ahead.

‘Anya, you will be less delighted than Clara, perhaps, when I tell you that this trip is intended as a lesson for you; possibly a punishment.’

Forgetting herself for a second, the PA lifted her head and stared Mark squarely in the face.

His lips smiled; his eyes, however, did not. ‘You wonder why? Why, when you are forever questioning my instructions?’

‘But Mark, I …’ Anya stopped talking, aware that by asking the question “why” she was simply proving his point. She could feel her nipples hardened beneath her white shirt, as Mark continued to speak.

‘Oh my dear Anya, you may never question me out loud.’ Mark’s voice was as soft as velvet, yet the potential danger of disagreeing with him shone in his eyes. ‘But I know that you constantly query my actions by your reaction to them. Subconscious or not, it has to stop.’

Anya couldn’t believe it; she had always been so dutiful. The perfect assistant. The willing and compliant slave. How could Mark possibly know she privately questioned her existence; her choice at being here with him and Clara, living this less than ordinary existence?

Mark took a step closer to his …

***

If you’d like to read on, then you can find The Voyeur in ebook form from the following retailers…

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Apple Books UK
Apple Books US
Barnes & Noble
Kobo
Smashwords

Happy reading,

Kay x

The Voyeur: Romance, Thriller, Psychological Mystery, or a BDSM romp?

Is The Voyeur a romance, a thriller, a psychological mystery, or a BDSM romp?

Blurb

Wealthy business man and committed voyeur, Mark Parker, has a list of thirteen fantasies he is in the process of making a reality. Travelling between his London flat, his plush Oxfordshire mansion, and Discreet, his favourite S&M club; Mark is helped to realise his imaginatively dark erotic desires by two loyal members of his staff. His Personal Assistant, Anya Grant, and his Housekeeper Clara Hooper.

Upon his willing slave’s bare backs, Mark has written out his fantasy list in thick red pen. Only Fantasy 12 awaits the tick of completion against their flesh before Mark’s ultimate fantasy – Fantasy 13- can take place.

But have the girls performed well enough to succeed in the final challenge? And why is Mark getting mixed up with Anya’s previous employers at the Bridge’s Gentleman’s Club- a place Anya was all too delighted to escape from?

In order to find out, Mark’s girls are going to have to face some of the fantasies they thought they had left behind them all over again…

15306handcuffed

Extract

Anya had re-scanned all the emails that had flown across the invisible airwaves of the Atlantic between herself and Candice over the past few weeks. Having retreated to the bathroom to redo her lipstick and add a second layer of concealer to the bags under her eyes, Anya felt was as ready as she’d ever be to face the confident, ultra-efficient American PA over the video link.

Having checked the webcam was working properly, and that she was seated comfortably for the forthcoming exchange of information, Anya grabbed a final glance at the notes she’d made, and turned the conference call facility onto standby.

She was just tapping in the password she required to be patched through to the States when the office door opened and Mark and Clara walked in. Anya’s stomach twisted into a knot of lust as she regarded Clara in a skin-hugging Lycra catsuit, all scarlet and black; a combination which showed her figure off to perfection.

There was no point in protesting that she was about to take an important call; Mark already knew that. Why else would he have bought Clara in, dressed so provocatively, at that exact moment? Her boss was a game player extraordinaire, and he knew precisely how to press her buttons, and freak her out at the same time. Anya had known Fantasy 6 would have to be replayed – but she hadn’t expected it now; so soon after Fantasy 2.

So, Mark isn’t going to rerun his erotic fancies in order after all.

Mark said nothing as he gestured for Anya to rise while he pulled her chair from her desk. Clara, without prompting, crawled under the desk, and crouching uncomfortably, waited for Mark to speak.

Even as her boss pointedly announced the obvious imminent replay of Fantasy 6, Anya was ahead of him, vividly remembering what had happened last time she had been forced to carry out a telephone call with Clara’s head between her legs. This time it seemed she was going to have to endure all the gorgeous delights to come while communing with an audience who could not only hear her voice, but see her as well; and who must never know what was going on below the desk.

‘Roll up your skirt, take off your thong, and sit down. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you the importance of opening your legs as wide as possible.’ Anya kicked off her shoes and obliged. ‘Quickly, girl, it’s time for your meeting to begin.’

As she sat, pulling in her chair as close to the desk as it would go without squashing Clara, Anya tried to steady her nerves. The video line rang, and Anya plastered a convincingly serene smile across her face.

‘How are you, Candice, all well over there?’ Anya felt pleased at how normal her voice sounded despite the knowledge that the woman she loved was curled up only inches from her naked pussy.

‘I’m great, thank you.’ Candice, as no-nonsense as ever, dived straight into the business of the day. ‘I’m pleased to say that the personnel alterations we’ve had this end seem to be an improvement, rather than the procedural nightmare that we both feared.’

Anya listened hard as Candice listed the strengths of the new employees and what she hoped they would bring to Parker Software as a whole. But as the minutes ticked by, and Clara hadn’t so much as breathed on her, Anya found her focus beginning to falter.

‘And if his impact so far is anything to go by, then I judge that Stuart Hopkirk will turn out to be the better of the new candidates to fulfil the transatlantic element of the sales force. He’s more of a “people person”, if you see what I mean?’ Candice emphasised her point by using her fingers to show the inverted commas around the statement that Anya had only partially heard.

Why hadn’t Clara done anything yet? Last time this had happened, her lover had been straight in with the action. That had been hard enough, trying to keep her tone business-like when Clara had been employing her mouth so expertly. This non-action was far worse. Anya was so braced for the feel of the first touch that she knew she was losing the thrust of what Candice was saying.

‘Anya, are you OK?’ Candice’s southern twang sounded genuinely concerned as her counterpart failed to answer a question.

‘Sorry, the screen broke up then for a bit,’ Anya rallied, not daring to glance in Mark’s direction, knowing he’d be annoyed at her lack of professionalism. ‘Could you repeat that one, please?’

‘Sure. I was saying that Hopkins will be over in the UK next month, so I’ll confirm dates with you once flights are booked. Mark should talk with him face to face. His ideas on company development are interesting.’

‘Of course. I’ll sort a meet and greet session in London as soon as you confirm timings.’

‘Excellent! Right, that just leaves us to sort Mark’s visit to the States in the summer. Are you coming with him this year? It would be great to meet you in person.’

‘I doubt it. I – owwww!’ Anya jumped as a sharp pair of teeth dug into her pussy. ‘Oh, do excuse me; I think I was just stung. Must be an insect in here or something.’

Candice’s eyes narrowed. She looked far from convinced, but was too professional and polite to do anything other than take Anya’s word for it.

Anya could feel a blush start to creep up her neck and tinge her cheeks pink as Clara continued to nibble her teeth over and around her mound, pulling back her labia with a sharp pressure which she knew could bring Anya off very quickly.

It was time to end this conference call, and quickly. ‘Well, my diary has the last four days of July pencilled in as a possible. How does that fit with you?’

Candice tapped a few buttons on the out of sight iPad Anya knew she was physically attached to, and looked up with an orthodontically enhanced, white toothed smile. ‘The 29th is out, but the four days prior to that are clear. Shall I book Mark in?’

Without even bothering to check those days were free in Mark’s calendar, Anya said, ‘That would be excellent.’ As Clara’s tongue and right hand joined in the exploration of her crotch, Anya pretended to write down the dates.

‘Anything else you require today, Candice?’ Anya squeezed her fingernails into her hidden palms, trying to deflect the need to wriggle her arse closer to Clara’s lips, which had begun to move even faster.

‘I think that just about concludes things. Thanks for your time, Anya.’

Issuing a smile of genuine relief as Candice bought things to a close, Anya felt Clara’s long fingernails began to delicately scrape the space below her clit. Her smile toward Candice froze for a split second as Clara then forcibly pushed a hand under Anya, shoving her butt upwards so her anus could be tickled.

‘One moment please, ladies.’ Mark strode across the room, and bent into the eyeline of the video link.

‘Good morning, Mark. I’m sorry; I hadn’t realised you were there.’ Candice’s face lit up, leaving no one in any doubt as to how attractive she thought the owner of Parker Software was.

‘I’ve just arrived, sweetheart.’ Mark oozed charm at Anya’s American associate. ‘Could you be an absolute star and give me a brief breakdown of sales figures for the last quarter your end?’

Anya could have cried as Clara’s digits increased their pace. As she struggled to keep her body still from the waist up, her arse squirmed and her shoulders tensed. She felt like some kind of sinister ventriloquist’s dummy as her upper body stiffened, a look which, at an executive level, could so easily be interpreted as lack of confidence, and therefore weakness. If she wasn’t careful Candice would be putting the word about that she was cracking up. Given half the chance, Anya knew she would be on the next plane to the UK, kicking her out, so she could work with Mark instead.

Gathering herself together, doing her best to blank out what was happening to her below desk level, Anya snapped back into PA mode. ‘Actually, that would be very helpful for me as well; but if you wish for some time to gather that information, then I am happy to schedule another call tomorrow?’

‘Well, I can help a little now.’ Candice addressed Mark rather than the PA. Normally Anya would have been offended, but today she was simply relieved to have the impetus taken away from her for a minute, so she could take the opportunity to lift her buttocks from the chair, allowing Clara easier access to her backside. Instantly, Clara shuffled a digit inside her anus, and Anya trapped her girl’s finger and right arm beneath her, successfully limiting the source of the sensually distracting motion around her groin.

Undetected, however, Clara’s left hand continued its adventure by running up Anya’s legs, dancing only the tips of her fingers over the exposed flesh, making Anya shiver, causing the inserted finger to burrow deeper into her backside.

As Candice and Mark discussed import and export figures, Anya found it harder to remain centred on them, her mind drifting more and more to the curled-up creature beneath the desk.

‘Can you confirm that for me please, Anya?’ Mark’s voice snapped Anya back to attention. She was suddenly convinced by the way he and Candice were staring at her that this was at least the second time he’d asked her that question.

She knew there was no point in bluffing; they were both too shrewd for that. ‘I’m sorry, I allowed myself to be distracted. Can you repeat that, please?’

‘Sorry, Anya, I don’t have the time.’ Mark was brusque, and he turned his face back to the video link, treating Candice to his most disarming smile, ‘I must apologise for my PA’s behaviour, Candice. This unsatisfactory situation will be cleared up. Do you have time for another link meeting tomorrow?’

‘Certainly Mark, about 3 p.m.?’

Anya bristled silently, noticing that Candice hadn’t even referred to her diary, and privately hoped she’d find she was already busy and would have to reschedule, and therefore embarrass herself.

‘I’ll speak to you then. Many thanks, Candice; until tomorrow.’ Mark clicked off the link, and the room went deadly quiet…

So, is The Voyeur a romance, a thriller, a psychological mystery, or a BDSM romp? 

It’s all four!

Published on 1st April, as an e-book, The Voyeur can be pre-ordered from… 

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Apple Books UK
Apple Books US
Barnes & Noble
Kobo
Smashwords

Happy reading,

Kay xxx

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