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An Excerpt From: HOT
LESSONS
Copyright ©
ANNIE WINDSOR, 2005.
All Rights Reserved,
Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Blackmoor
Downs.
Just the name of the castle
gave her delicious shivers, even though she was sitting in an office miles
away, at quiet little John’s River College.
Celia Lambert wanted to see
the fancy manor, not just visit it—she wanted to explore the mystery, dig
around every stone until she uncovered its hidden rooms. Well, one hidden room in particular.
If the whispered stories were
true, Blackmoor Downs, an actual English castle
transplanted to John’s River, Tennessee,
had one hell of a secret.
A dungeon. A very special
kind of modern, kinky dungeon, if the rumors could be believed.
Reginald Blackmoor
was the most eccentric man Celia Lambert had ever met. He was older, very
British and incredibly sophisticated. He also happened to be her boss in
the history department at John’s River
College, which made
Celia wonder if she had absolutely lost her mind.
All of a sudden, Reggie’s
academic office felt too small. The shelves of books seemed to close in
around her, and the remnant scent of cherry pipe tobacco overwhelmed her.
“Steady.” Alan Sparks shifted
in the chair beside her and took her hand. The feel of his powerful grip,
the smoldering look in his bright blue eyes and the thought of what they
might accomplish today helped Celia buck up enough to stay in her seat. For
the moment.
“What if it’s all speculation?”
she murmured. “What if he just throws us out and tries to get me fired?”
“You know him better than
that.” Alan let go of her fingers and put his hand on her leg, just below
her tight power skirt. The black fabric slid up as he pushed, revealing her
bare thigh.
“Stop. What if he comes in?”
Celia tried to nudge Alan, but he only grinned and slid his hand under the
skirt’s firm hem.
Always pushing limits. Always
taking it to the edge. That was Alan. She had sensed that about him the day
he took his position at John’s River. They had been dating for a few months
now, and there was a lot more to the big blond hunk of mathematician than
quadratic equations and matrices, thank God. Still, he made her a little
nervous. That’s why she hadn’t let him take her too far with their bondage
play. She trusted him in so many ways, but…
But total trust wasn’t
Celia’s strong suit. Neither was throwing caution out the window, even when
she was fairly sure she was safe. Just once, she wanted to turn loose
sexually, to really let go and experience total submission, total pleasure,
freedom from all her worries—from every last thing
that held her back. She’d let Alan push her farther than any lover, and she
knew he wanted take the next step. Hell, she wanted to take the next step,
too, whatever it was, but in the end she always panicked.
She felt like they needed
help. Maybe some training.
They had looked through
internet ads, checked out some clubs in Nashville, even read books. Each
experience taught them something, but Celia just couldn’t bring herself to
plunge ahead under the direction of strangers or printed words. She knew
Alan was frustrated with her hesitance, but she still felt like
they—he—needed a little guidance.
His hand, however, needed no
guidance at all as it slid higher, higher, inching
toward her already-drenched bikini underwear. Her nipples hardened and she
gripped the arms of one of Reggie’s oak office chairs.
“Alan, cut it out. I’m
serious.”
“No, you’re not serious.
You’re wet.” He flashed her one of his devastating grins. “You should be
more honest about what you want. Less reserved.”
Almost casually, without
shifting in his chair or looking at her, he pulled the soaked strip of silk
and cotton to the side, baring her. Celia gasped. She knew her face had to
be turning redder than her hair. Damn, she needed to smack him, make him
stop before Reggie caught them fondling each other in his office—but it
felt so naughty.
So good.
“I bet I could surprise you,
Celia. I could teach you a few things.”
CLOSE WINDOW
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