Read Playing Dirty: Windy City Kink, Book 3 Online

Authors: Kelly Jamieson

Tags: #BDSM;kink;domination;submission;spanking;alpha hero

Playing Dirty: Windy City Kink, Book 3 (31 page)

BOOK: Playing Dirty: Windy City Kink, Book 3
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About the Author

Kelly Jamieson lives in Winnipeg, Canada, and is the best-selling author of over thirty romance novels and novellas. Her writing has been described as “emotionally complex”, “sweet and satisfying” and “blisteringly sexy”. If she can stop herself from reading or writing, she loves to cook. She has shelves of cookbooks that she reads at length. She also enjoys gardening in the summer, and in the winter she likes to read gardening magazines and seed catalogues (there might be a theme here…). She also loves shopping, especially for clothes and shoes, and, of course, watching hockey! She loves hearing from readers, so please visit her website at
www.kellyjamieson.com
or contact her at
[email protected]
.

Look for these titles by Kelly Jamieson

Now Available:

Love Me

Friends with Benefits

Love Me More

2 Hot 2 Handle

Lost and Found

One Wicked Night

Sweet Deal

Hot Ride

You Really Got Me

Rule of Three

Rule of Three

Rhythm of Three

Reward of Three

Windy City Kink

Sweet Obsession

All Messed Up

San Amaro Singles

With Strings Attached

How to Love

Slammed

Promise Harbor

Jilted

Print Collections

Love 2 Love U

If he’s a mistake, she’s ready to make him her
favorite
mistake.

All Messed Up

© 2014 Kelly Jamieson

Windy City Kink, Book 2

Mallory Hurst has tried to live a life that makes up for past mistakes. But now she faces a huge ethical dilemma. Her pharmaceutical company’s unapproved, off-label use of a medication puts lives at risk, and her protests have fallen on deaf ears.

Hoping a trip home will clear her head, she boards a plane for California. And strikes up a conversation with a handsome stranger.

Joe Mason recently learned that the man he’s called father all his life…isn’t. At least that explains why he never measured up to his older brothers. Flying to meet his biological father for the first time, he meets a sleek, sexy woman who makes him want to mess up her perfect hair.

Shared conversation leads to a shared drink between flights, then when their flight is canceled, a shared bed overnight—where their rush of attraction explodes into a night of much-needed kinky fun.

Yet a night of hot, messy sex won’t fix anything—in fact, blowing off steam could have blown their lives all to hell…

Warning: This book contains a hot cop, a neat and tidy executive, dirty talk, kink in an airport, mile-high shenanigans, a little foot fetish fun. And love, of course.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
All Messed Up:

Darkness had fallen by now, and snow was continuing to come down. Not a full-fledged blizzard by any means, but enough to pose a problem with snow on the airplane wings. Equipment moved around outside on the tarmac, visible only by lights in the dark. Flight attendants moved through the cabin, patiently answering questions and trying hard to pacify all the unhappy customers. Joe laughed inside, realizing that the delay hadn’t bothered him one bit. Not only was he not in a big rush to get to L.A. and see his biological father—he’d gotten to spend more time with Mallory. Pretty. Sexy. Smart. And not all that happy.

What was going on with her job that was making her so tense? That sucked.

“Well, ladies and gentlemen, Captain Kirk here again.”

Captain Kirk? Seriously? Why hadn’t he noticed that last time he’d spoken? Joe wanted to laugh.

“So the news we’re getting from the ground crew is that the planes are so icy, as soon as they’re done with the back of the plane the front has to be de-iced again. That’s why it’s taking so long for us to get our turn there.”

Joe sighed.

Where in Chicago did Mallory live? Damn, he should have gotten her phone number. Just because their flight was leaving and they were going their separate ways for the next week or so, didn’t mean he couldn’t look her up once they were home…

What the hell was he thinking? She looked like the kind of woman who was ready to settle down in a long-term relationship, and he was so not that guy. Especially not now, with his head all fucked up from the news he’d just been smacked with. Although the truth was, his head had been fucked up for a while. Most of his life, in fact. He sighed.

But damn, he liked her. There was a definite attraction there, a nice zing of heat and excitement. They were similar ages. Both single.

Whatever. He flipped open the airline’s travel magazine that was tucked in the pocket on the wall in front of him and studied pictures of Thailand. Then an article about London, England. Hadn’t Mallory said she’d traveled there? That would be cool.

And then he was back to thinking about Mallory. Thinking about talking dirty to her in bed. Christ. Images filled his head of rumpling her professional clothes and messing up her sleek hair, and he had to shift in his seat as his cock swelled a little against his fly.

Nearly an hour later, the captain announced that they were still waiting and could get off the plan again. “We apologize again for the inconvenience.”

Oh, for Chrissake. They were getting off the fucking plane again? This was turning into a nightmare.

But he couldn’t help but seek out Mallory as he rose to deplane again. He spotted her shiny hair as she stood in the aisle, once more wrestling her bag out of the overhead compartment.

This time he didn’t pretend that he’d run into her by accident. He waited for her right outside the plane.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said with a smile. “Let me take that for you.” He reached for her small suitcase.

“That’s okay, I’ve got it.”

But he took it anyway and they walked up the gently sloping carpeted gangway. Inside the terminal he moved away from the gate and stopped to face her. “So here we are again,” he said. “Sounds like this bird might not be taking off tonight.”

“Yeah.” She bit her lip. “This sucks. Oh, I better text my mom.”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

She pulled her cell phone out of her purse. “Is your dad picking you up at the airport? You might want to let him know about the delay.”

“He’s not picking me up. So it’s okay.”

She thumbed in a message, eyes on her phone. “There. I just wish I knew what to tell them. This is so annoying!”

“Yeah. It is.”

“I hate things that are out of my control.”

“Really?” He gave her a look.

“What? Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

She blinked rapidly and his smile widened.

“Like I wanted to make you lose control?” He bent closer to murmur the words in her ear.

“Um…”

“That’s because I do.” He straightened. “Come on. Let’s find somewhere we can get comfortable for the next while… Wait.”

“What?”

“Before you put your phone away, give me your number.”

“Why?” She frowned at him.

“So I can send you a text message on the plane.”

Now it was her turn to give him a look, a side-eye, tight-lipped look. He beamed his most charming smile and she shook her head but gave him the number. He entered it into his contacts.

The airline crew were handing out pillows and blankets to anyone who wanted them; he accepted two for him and Mallory and led the way to the far corner of the gate area, where an empty row of seats faced out the windows into darkness. The bar and restaurants in the concourse were all now dark and closed up.

He parked Mallory’s case and they dumped purse, backpack, jackets, pillows and blankets onto a couple of seats.

“Do you want to lie down?” he asked.

She gave him another wary look. “I’ll just sit, thanks.”

“Sure.” They both took a seat and he stretched his legs out in front of him and crossed his hands over his abdomen. “So, where were we? Oh yeah. Talking dirty in bed.”

She giggled. “Back to that, huh?”

“I was thinking more about it while we were sitting on the plane.” Thinking about talking dirty to her, both of them naked in bed—but he didn’t add that. “Sometimes it’s not so much the actual words as the tone of voice.”

“True.”

“Even when you say something innocent like, ‘Do you want more?’ if you say it in the right tone of voice, it can sound dirty.” He demonstrated, lowering his voice to a husky rasp and leaning closer. “Do you want more?”

She shivered.

He smiled. “’Cause I’ve got more. How would you like it? Are you having fun?”

“You’re a very bad boy,” she said in a throaty tone that made his dick harden.

“You know it. Let’s be bad together.”

“I’m not a bad girl though.”

“Oh yeah? The way you were talking dirty in the bar earlier sounded pretty bad.” He held her gaze, smiling a bit, and then he touched his fingertips to her cheek. Soft.

He sensed a bit a tussle going on inside her.

“Hey,” he said softly. “We’re in an airport with hundreds of people around. We’re just playing around. Right?”

“Right.”

She was gorgeous. Smooth and polished, perfect shiny hair and satiny skin, sky blue eyes that he could now see were flecked with tiny shards of mauve and silver. “I wanna kiss you.”

Her lips parted and her long eyelashes fluttered down. And that was enough for him. He leaned closer to her and found her mouth with his.

Fuck yeah. Her soft lips clung to his. Her scent rose around them, warm and feminine and faintly floral. His fingertips caressed her cheek, his thumb on her chin in the gentlest touch. She lifted a hand and laid it on his arm, but she wasn’t pushing him away. She was holding on.

He deepened the kiss, slanting his mouth a little more, opening his mouth over hers, pushing her lips open too, and his tongue traced over her plush bottom lip. She tasted sweet, fruity, faintly like wine, and when the tip of her tongue rubbed against his, his blood surged hotly through his veins, straight to his dick.

“How’s this?” he murmured, now cupping her face. “You are so sexy. I wanna take your clothes off and lick you all over. Wanna make you come.”

“That’s pretty good,” she replied breathlessly. “You’ve got a knack for talking dirty, I think.”

“Thank you. Maybe we should work at it some more.”

Their eyes met as she peered up at him through her long eyelashes.

Her temptation…his salvation.

Living in Sin

© 2014 Jackie Ashenden

Living In…, Book 2

At twenty, Lily Andrews has already lived a lifetime. Her battle with leukemia put her three years behind her ballet career, and now that the grueling treatment is behind her, she’s eager to put her dancing shoes back on—literally and figuratively.

One man has been her personal light at the end of her tunnel, the one man she’s sure will help her rekindle her passion for life. Kahu Winter. And she’ll let nothing stand in the way of having him—not even Kahu himself.

When Kahu catches Lily sneaking into his club, the desire in her eyes tells him it’s more than a delayed act of youthful rebellion. Her lively spirit calls to him, but Kahu is too cynical, too jaded, too broken for a sweet young thing like her.

But Lily won’t take no for answer so he’ll make her a deal: She’s got one month to seduce him and after that, he’s moving on—figuratively and literally.

There’s just one thing he forgot to keep out of her reach. His heart…

Warning: This book contains a hot older man in need of some anti-cynicism pills, a snarky younger woman who’s going to get past his defenses and make him beg, more forbidden lust, and naked ballet dancing. Advanced WTFery for experienced users only.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Living in Shadow:

“She’s here again.”

“Oh fuck, really?” Kahu Winter leaned back in his office chair and stared at Mike, the bouncer who’d been working the door at the Auckland Club for the last five years.

Mike, a huge Tongan guy who used to do a lot of pro-wrestling, folded his arms. “Yeah. And she says she wants to see you.”

Since that’s what she’d been saying for the past couple of nights, Kahu wasn’t surprised. Jesus Christ. What a pain in the ass.

He had more important things to do than fuck about dealing with Rob’s daughter. The guy was Kahu’s business partner and would not be happy at the thought of his twenty-year-old daughter hassling for entry into one of Auckland’s most exclusive private-member’s clubs.

What the hell was she doing here? What the hell did she want?

“That’s the third time this week.” Kahu threw the pen he’d been toying with back down on his desk. “And I’m getting pretty fucking sick of it.”

Mike was unimpressed. “Perhaps if you go out and see what she wants, she’ll go away,” he pointed out.

Not what Kahu wanted to hear. Christ, the last two nights he’d paid for a taxi to take her home and if she kept this up, it was going to start getting expensive.

Of course, he could go out there and speak to her. But he liked being manipulated even less than he liked being told what to do. And he
hated
being told what to do. Especially when the person doing the telling was a spoiled little twenty-year-old on some mysterious mission she wouldn’t talk to anyone about other than him.

Jesus, it made him feel tired. And pretty fucking old.

“Goddamn. I’m going to have to speak to her, aren’t I?”

Mike lifted a shoulder. “Up to you, boss.”

Yeah, he was going to have to.

Cursing, Kahu shoved his chair back and got up. The work he was doing, going over the club’s accounts, could wait. And he probably needed a break anyway.

In the corridor outside his office, he could hear the sounds of conversation from the Ivy Room, the club’s main bar and dining area. Friday night and the place was packed with members having a post-work drink or seven.

The sound of success. Anita would have been so proud.

Yeah, but not so proud of the fact you’re planning on ditching it, huh?

No, probably not. She’d left him the club thirteen years ago, when she’d first realized she was getting sick. A gift he’d promptly thrown back in her face by fucking off overseas, refusing to accept the responsibility or the reality of her illness. It had taken him five years to come to terms with it. To come back to New Zealand, to take on the club, and most importantly, to care for her. The lover who’d rescued him from the streets and given him the stars.

On the other hand, Anita was six months dead and what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

As he approached the club’s entrance—a vaulted hallway with stairs leading to the upper floors, a parquet floor, and a chandelier dominating the space like a massive, glittering sun—people greeted him. Since he granted all memberships to the club personally, he knew everyone. Some more than others, of course, but he prided himself on the fact that he knew everyone’s names at least.

He ostentatiously kissed the hand of a politician’s wife, slapped the back of a well-known actor, air-kissed with a socialite and shook hands with an awestruck nobody. But then that’s what the Auckland Club was like. Nobodies and somebodies, all mixing together. It appealed to his sense of irony. And, fuck, it was a nice distraction if nothing else.

Kahu pushed open the big blue door that was the club’s famous entrance and stood in the doorway, looking down the stairs to the sidewalk. There were no lines of people waiting to get into the club since it was members only, but tonight a lone figure sat on the bottom step, her back to him.

It was mid-winter and cold, his breath like a dragon’s, a white cloud in the night.

Not as cold as London, though.

A random memory drifted through his head, of the European “cultural” trip with Anita. Of being in London in February during a snowstorm, and she’d tried to insist on going to some kind of classical music concert at Covent Garden. He’d seduced her in their fancy Claridges hotel room instead and they’d spent the rest of the evening in bed, away from the storm and the cold…

Kahu let out another cloudy breath, trying to shake the memories away.

He’d grieved when Anita had died. But the woman in that chair in the rest home wasn’t the Anita he’d known and loved. That woman had died a long time ago.

The person sitting down on the bottom step suddenly turned and his drifting thoughts scattered. A pale, pointed face and eyes an indeterminate color between green and gray looked back at him. A familiar face.

Lily.

He knew her, of course. Had known her since she was about five years old, her father Rob being a close friend of Anita’s, and who’d managed the club while Kahu had been sulking overseas. Who’d become a valued business partner since.

A quiet, watchful girl who stayed out of the way and did what she was told, if he remembered right. He hadn’t seen her for five years, though, and clearly things had changed. Namely that she didn’t do as she was told anymore.

Lily stood and turned around. She was wearing a black duffel coat, the hood pulled up against the cold, and dark skinny jeans, a pair of Chuck Taylors covered with Union Jacks on her feet. And a very determined look on her face.

“Lily Andrews, as I live and breathe,” Kahu said lazily, standing in the doorway of his club and crossing his arms. “Does your father know you’ve been sitting on the steps of my club for the past three nights straight?”

Her hands pushed into the pockets of her coat, brows the color of bright flames descending into a frown. “If you’d spoken to me earlier it wouldn’t have been three nights.”

“I have a phone. Though perhaps young people these days don’t use such outdated technology.”

“What I want to ask you is better done in person.”

“That sounds portentous. Come on then, don’t keep me in suspense. What do you want?”

She didn’t speak immediately, her mouth tightening, her eyes narrowing. As if she was steeling herself for something.

Jesus, whatever it was it had better be good. He had shit to do.

After a brief, silent moment, Lily walked up the steps, coming to stand in front of him. The light coming from the club’s doorway shone directly on her face. She wore no makeup, her skin white, almost translucent and gleaming with freckles like little specks of gold. She looked sixteen if she was a day.

“Can I come in? I don’t want to ask you out here.”

“What, into the club? Sorry, love, but it’s members only.”

She shifted restlessly on her feet. “So can I be a member then?”

“Are you kidding? You think I just hand out membership to any fool that comes to my door?”

Her forehead creased into a scowl. “I’m not a fool.”

“If you’re not a fool, then you’ll understand that there’s a reason it’s taken me three days to speak to you.”

“I just want to ask you a question. Nothing else.”

“Then send me an e-mail or a text like any normal teenager. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a few things I—”

“I’m not a teenager, for Christ’s sake. And what I want to talk to you about is…personal.”

Kahu leaned against the doorframe, eyeing her. “If it’s personal then why aren’t you talking to your dad or a friend or whatever? You hardly know me.”

Rob had been Anita’s lawyer as well as her friend. Kahu had met him in the context of dinners, where Anita had brought Kahu along and he’d sat there silently at the table while she and Rob talked, unable to join in because he didn’t know what the fuck they were talking about—the dumb, uneducated Maori kid from the streets.

Sometimes at those dinners Lily had been there, a small seven-year-old with big eyes, whom he’d ignored mainly because she was a child and he had nothing to say to a privileged white kid from Remuera, born with a silver spoon in her mouth.

Then, after he’d come back from overseas and had reconnected with Rob over the management of the Auckland Club, he’d sometimes see her as he talked business with her father. A slender teen with a sulky mouth, who appeared to lurk permanently in the hallway whenever he arrived or left, big gray-green eyes following him when she thought he wouldn’t notice.

She’d grown up a bit since then, the rounded features of adolescence morphing into the more defined lines of adulthood. But that mouth of hers was still sulky and she was still small and slender. And her eyes were still wide and big as they met his.

“Yeah, I realize that. But…” She shifted again, nervous. “What I want to ask concerns you in particular.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Me, huh? Well, spit it out then.”

A crowd of people came up the steps behind her, laughing and talking. Kahu moved out of the way as they approached the door, greeting them all by name and holding out his arm to usher them inside.

Once they’d all gone in, he turned back to Lily, who remained standing there with her hands in the pockets of her coat, glaring at him almost accusingly.

He could not, for the life of him, work out what her problem was, but one thing was for sure: he was getting bloody sick of standing there while she continued to dance around the subject.

“Okay,” he said, glancing at his watch. “You’ve got ten seconds. If you haven’t told me what you’re doing here by then, I’m going to go inside and ring your father, and ask him to come and get you.”

“All right, Jesus,” Lily muttered. “You don’t have to be such a dick about it.”

Kahu refrained from rolling his eyes. “Ten, nine, eight, seven…”

She turned her head, looking back down the steps, clearly checking to make sure there was no one around.

“…six, five, four, three—”

“I was kind of wondering if you could perhaps seduce me.”

BOOK: Playing Dirty: Windy City Kink, Book 3
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