Jasmine Plays Her Hand (Fantasy Guild No. 1) (10 page)

She smiled benevolently, and glanced to the
side at the young man working a pair of clippers over a shrub.
Kyle. Mmm. He was as delicious as Sean, shirtless, too, of a
similar age and fitness level, but he was a sun-kissed blond where
Sean was brunette.

“Thank you both,” she said. “I appreciate all
your hard work.”

Kyle winked at her, a sexy impertinence that
a woman of Mrs. Hunter’s standing might never have tolerated, not
unless she had plans for said sexy winker. And this Mrs. Hunter
most assuredly did have plans.

The two men returned to work and Pamela
enjoyed their show. She felt all warm and fuzzy, basking in the sun
in her bikini, anticipation curling in her belly, a low thrum
working deep inside her. She sipped her mojito. This was the
life.

An older woman in a maid’s uniform stepped
out of the house.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Mrs. Hunter,” the
woman said, stopping next to Pamela’s lounger. “There’s a worker
here. Says you hired him to do some repairs around the place.”

“Oh, that’s right. I forgot about him. Thank
you, Angela. Send him out and bring me that list I left on the
kitchen table.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Angela said, and off she went
to do Mrs. Hunter’s bidding.

Angela wasn’t her real name. Pamela couldn’t
remember her real name, in fact. She was an actress hired to do a
few hours’ work, who happened to be a little wooden in her
delivery, but otherwise was doing okay.

The sound of Kyle’s clipping picked up speed.
“If you needed some small jobs done, Mrs. Hunter, I’d have been
happy to do them for you.”

“How kind of you,” Pamela said. “I had no
idea you had skills in the house as well as in the yard.”

“Ma’am, you wouldn’t believe how handy I can
be.” He looked her over, a quick, leering up and down.

Would a real Mrs. Hunter fire him on the spot
for his cheek? Pamela didn’t know. Didn’t care. “Why Kyle, I
certainly would believe it. You can accomplish anything you set
your ... er ... mind to.”

He grinned and made a few pointed clips with
the trimmer. “I bet I can hammer better than that fellow you’ve
hired.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that,” said a deep voice
from behind her.

Pamela turned, looked up, way up, into the
eyes of Mr. Tall, Dark and Don’t-I-Look-Fine-in-a-Toolbelt Guy.
“Oh, hello there.” Seriously. Hell-o.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Hunter. I’m Miguel,” he
said. “I’m here to do the work I discussed with your husband last
week.”

She paused a moment to give him a good look
over. A dream Latin lover if ever she’d seen one. He was in his
early thirties, tall and lean-hipped. His black hair brushed his
shoulders and curled at the ends. There were a few tiny smile lines
at the corners of his sexy mouth, and she would have traded her
soul for his high cheekbones and long eyelashes.

He was dressed in a t-shirt and tight jeans,
and yes, a big, loaded tool belt that was slung low on his hips. No
husband in his right mind would hire this man then allow him to be
alone with his wife. Luckily, Mrs. Hunter’s husband wasn’t the
jealous type.

Jasmine had told Pamela to expect someone
new, someone who hadn’t been present on her night. Miguel.
Delicioso. Jasmine would be crushed if she knew what she
missed.

Pamela smiled and pretended she didn’t see
Miguel’s lazy perusal of her person. “Of course, Miguel. So glad
you made it. Where’s Angela? Oh, there you are.”

Angela was basically lost behind Miguel’s
glory. She stepped forward and handed Pamela a sheet of paper, then
returned to the house.

Pamela studied the list. “Hmm, okay. My
husband wrote this up for you. It says here that you’re to start in
the downstairs half bath. There’s a small hole in there you’re
supposed to fill. Does that sound familiar to you?”

“Yes Ma’am,” he said, a small smile playing
on his face. “I can assure you I’m an expert at filling small
holes.”

“Had lots of practice have you?”

“Plenty.”

“Mmm, I bet you have.”

Sean snorted nearby. Pamela ignored him.

“Let’s see,” she continued. “Next up is in
the dining room. There’s a loose hinge on the door. And a few of
the handles are shaky on the built-in hutch. It says here you may
need a drill. Did you bring one?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He patted his hip, where a
large drill hung from his tool belt. “I never go anywhere without
it. And all the attachments, too.”

“You’ll probably need a really long drill bit
for this job.”

“Got it covered. Eight inches of hardened,
high-speed steel.”

“Oh, well, that’s good to know.” She couldn’t
resist a quick peek at what he was packing under his tool belt,
hidden behind his tight jeans.

She licked her lips, unconsciously. “Yes, er
... extremely good to know.”

Off to the side, Kyle coughed loudly, trying
unsuccessfully to hide his bark of laughter. Pamela shot him a hard
look, one he likely didn’t get since it was hidden behind her
sunglasses.

“Next job,” Pamela said a little too loudly,
“is in one of the guest bathrooms. There’s a terrible problem in
there. A stuck spigot.”

“Stuck spigot. That’s all right. It won’t be
a problem.”

“I don’t know. A couple of men have already
given it a go, and it doesn’t want to open up.”

“A few good whacks with something heavy
should loosen it up,” Miguel said, his brown eyes sparkling.

“I fear it’s going to require a serious
pounding before it’ll let go completely. A good, long, firm and
steady pounding should do the trick, I think.”

“I can pound harder and longer than
anyone.”

“Can you?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“My, my. You are talented. With your skills,
I bet you do a bang-up business.”

Miguel cleared his throat. “My father taught
me that any job worth doing is worth doing well.” His gaze traveled
over her breasts and flat stomach, settling on the tiny triangle of
fabric between her legs.

Sean clattered the metal skimmer against the
grating on one of the traps. “Sorry about the noise, Mrs. Hunter. I
was just trying to get something out of this trap. It’s clamped
down on the skimmer and won’t let go.”

He clunked the skimmer around and around in
the trap. “Whew! It’s all tight in there, and wet, too. I won’t
give up, though. I’ll keep on plunging away until it gives it
up.”

Pamela covered her mouth with her hand until
she could resume a straight face. “Thank you, Sean. Your diligence
will be rewarded some day, I’m sure.”

“Maybe today?” he asked, raising an
eyebrow.

“You never know,” she said, brushing him
aside for the moment. “Now, Miguel, those three chores should be
plenty to keep you busy for a while. When you’re finished, come
back and we’ll go over the other items on the list.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He turned to go and Pamela
admired his tight rear end as he went.

“And Miguel,” she called out after him. “If
you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask. As you can see, I’m
completely at leisure today, not doing a thing.”

“I see that, Mrs. Hunter,” he said, stopping
at the door. “And if you don’t mind my saying, you look lovely when
you’re not doing a thing.” Then he was gone, disappeared inside the
dark interior of the house

She smiled, lay back in her lounger, threw an
arm casually over the backrest, bent a leg. Sean and Kyle enjoyed
her pose, watched her more than they pretended to do their jobs.
She sipped at her drink and appreciated the play of the men’s
muscles across their chests and stomachs, the flexing of their
biceps, the glimmer in their eyes.

“You’re doing an excellent job with those
hedges, Kyle,” Pamela said.

“Thanks, Mrs. Hunter. I enjoy a
nicely-trimmed hedge.”

“Mmmhmm. Me too.”

“Have you ever trimmed your hedge? I mean,
hedges? Trimmed your own hedges?”

She smiled lazily. “Yes indeed, but I have
this habit of trimming too much. In fact, I’ve been known to take
it down to nothing at all.”

“Bare, then.”

“That’s right.”

“Kind of tough on the hedge,” Kyle said.

“Yes, but then it grows back fuller and
fluffier the next spring and —” she stopped, realizing she had
clearly lost her way in Double-Entendre Land. She nearly gave full
rein to a giggle, but swallowed it down.

Pamela and the Hired
Hands

Fantasy Guild No. 2

Anwen Stiles
Bio/Contact Info

Anwen writes daring, sensual tales for
adventurous spirits. She prefers heroines who go after what they
want, and heroes who yearn to fulfill their ladies’ dreams. No
wilting, helpless virgins in these stories, unless the heroine is
pretending to be one for fun.

When Anwen’s not pounding away on her laptop,
she enjoys hiking in the forests near her home, fishing with her
favorite uncle, and hour-long gabfests at the local tea room with
friends and family.

She lives in the USA.

She invites readers to email comments/questions to
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[email protected]

Sign up to her
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announcements regarding future releases.

Also by Anwen Stiles

Pamela and the Hired
Hands

Fantasy Guild No. 2

If all mid-life crises sizzled like
Pamela’s, everybody would want one.

Pamela, divorced and forty, shocks herself
when she volunteers to be the next participant in the Fantasy
Guild’s sexy escapades. Sure, she’s lonely, and not yet ready to
consign herself to a dull middle-aged existence — but agreeing to a
group encounter with a gang of lusty men she’s never met — what
kind of freaky mid-life crisis is this?

Then she recalls a favorite fantasy, back
when she was still married and spent hours lounging in the sun,
lazily watching the six-packed pool boy at his labors. She
remembers the brawny gardener, too, and the handyman whose tool
belt hung appealingly on his slim hips. In her imagination, they
masterfully wielded the tools of their trades.

Pamela soon discovers that old daydreams are
well worth revisiting, when thanks to the guild, her fantasy is
transformed into tantalizing reality.

Warning
-- Explicit language and red-hot sex
scenes suitable only for adults. One curvy housewife, three younger
hired hands, and a surprise or two, meet poolside for a steamy
afternoon not to be forgotten. (Includes oral and anal sex)

This novelette is approximately 20,000 words long, 70
print pages.

Note: Books in the Fantasy Guild series do not have
to be read in order

Freya Gets Taken in
Hand

Fantasy Guild No. 3

No corporate spy craves capture like
Freya

Freya offers herself up as the third
volunteer in the Fantasy Guild’s erotic group adventures. Her dream
spy mission promises to be the sexiest yet when the powerful and
dominant man known as “Sir” agrees to help take her in hand.

Soon, Freya’s fantasy begins and she’s off to
steal a dangerous prototype from a ruthless businessman. If she’s
caught, she knows he and his gang of hot henchmen won’t rest until
they’ve tortured every last piece of intel from her helpless
person, so she’d best not get taken, right? Er, maybe not.

Warning
-- Explicit language and sizzling sex
scenes suitable only for adults. A sultry corporate spy struggles
to keep her secrets from five lusty interrogators who know the best
way to loosen a woman’s tongue is to drive her mad — with pleasure.
(Includes light bondage and spanking)

This novelette is approximately 20,000 words long, 70
print pages

Note: Books in the Fantasy Guild series do not have
to be read in order