Lessons and Lovers - Chapter One excerpt

Lover after dark…

By day, he's the perfect personal assistant, bodyguard, chauffeur… by when the lights go down, he's a devastating sex machine, using his hands, his lips and his breath-taking body to drive his employer to the very limits of pleasure.

Wealthy young widow Hettie Miller loved her husband, but night after night, she's tormented by desire. Lonely and confused she turns to Starr, her faultless servant, the man whose cool reserve and discretion hide the wild, hard-driving soul of a sensualist.

But does Starr really care for her, or is he simply performing his duties, as supreme between the sheets as he is elsewhere? Hettie hopes for more… because she's falling, and Starr's rocking her world.

Chapter One

The night was humid. Damp flesh slapped and smacked as belly met belly in a savage, primeval rhythm. Sweat dripped into Hettie’s eyes and coated her skin like a sheen of raw silk. It was almost a relief when the telephone trilled.

But it wasn’t really. Not when she needed to come, and come hard. She died inside as Starr paused in the middle of a thrust and looked down at her solemnly. He was the perfect servant in her bed now, his eyes cool and shuttered. The lover had gone as if he’d never existed, and a clutch of vague unspoken hopes had shattered in Hettie’s heart. Her body still burned, but she felt like wailing out in loss.

“Are you going to answer that, Ma’am?” His voice was as calm as a lake, his composure unruffled. Even the slide of his flesh pulling out of hers couldn’t disturb his complete sang-froid.

So detached. Even now, thought Hettie, swallowing her disappointment.

“I suppose so,” she replied, easing herself from beneath his long, golden body.

Why, oh why, did this have to happen? Who the hell was calling at this time? Didn’t they have anything better to do than destroy the first step in her recovery? Destroy her chance to…

Chance to do what, Hettie? To understand your feelings for Starr? And his for you? What if he doesn’t have any? Other than duty and respect and loyalty. And desire, obviously.

What if, by asking him, she screwed up what she could have with him? Which was amazing sex. On demand. Whenever she wanted it.

And tonight was the first time since Piers’ death that she had wanted it. The first time her healthy woman’s body had tingled and finally come alive again. The first time she’d wanted to feel a man’s stiffness moving inside her. The long gliding stroke of a cock to make her feel she was wholly and completely female.

It had been months, and yet somehow Starr had known that tonight she’d been ready at last. Without any word or prior indication, he’d come to her bed, then silently and gracefully, he’d slid between the sheets beside her and started touching her with his unique, almost surgical precision.

Not one word had passed his lips as he’d cupped her firm breasts and delicately kneaded them. Not one sound as he’d slid his stroking hand over her flat belly and her hips. Not a murmur had he uttered. Even as his fingers had parted the lips of her sex and played in the thick, clinging moisture they’d found there. It was only as he’d pressed open her slim thighs and entered her that he’d spoken, only as he’d possessed that he’d whispered her name. Called her “Hettie”, as he only ever had done when his cock was sheathed in her body.

Her hunger had flared, that sense of being completely alive doubling and redoubling as her sex had quickened and gripped him. She’d cried out, riding his thrusts on the crest of a great, wet wave of erotic energy.

But it had been more than just fucking, and the feelings much deeper. Her heart had leapt as her body had responded. She’d felt something fragile and beautiful unfurling that went far beyond sex. Some tenuous and unspoken emotional conduit being formed between herself and the man making love to her.

And then the bedside telephone had shattered the spell, and her fragile hopes and dreams.

“The phone, Ma’am,” he prompted.

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LESSONS AND LOVERS - hot snippet!

LESSON AND LOVERS - an erotic romance

What happens when a perfectly civilized sexual arrangement turns into a minefield of turbulent emotion?

Wealthy widow Hettie Miller misses her dead husband terribly, but is still beset by a gnawing physical desire. Lonely and confused, she turns to Starr, her late husband’s personal assistant, who discreetly supplies an after dark solution. At night, he comes to her bed and thrills her with intense, breath-taking sex, even though by day, their employer/employee relationship is scrupulously formal and hands off.

But Starr loves Hettie. He’s loved her since the first time he ever met her, but until now, he’s always managed to conceal it beneath a mask of immaculate manners and rigidly controlled reserve. 

During a summer getaway at her secluded country mansion, it finally dawns on Hettie that her feelings for Starr are far more than simply carnal, and the parameters of their relationship start to change…

Excerpt:

The evening had ended strangely. A simple throwaway goodnight kiss from Darryl had set Hettie’s senses aflame, kindling the sexual heat in her that seemed to be simmering all the time now.

“Goodnight, Hettie,” he’d said, walking around to her where she still sat at table. He’d looked a picture, all in dark blue, in a soft silk shirt and Italian‑tailored trousers. He was so handsome and so easy to want that under any other circumstances, she might simply have propositioned him. Especially when he leaned forward and pressed his lips against her burning cheek.

Nephews kissed aunts like this, and favorite grandsons put their mouths this lightly and slightly to the cheeks of their grandmas. But to Hettie it was a trigger, launching a wave of sexual energy that swept over her belly, her breasts, and her pussy. It was over in seconds and she was stunned. And afterward she couldn’t even remember if she’d actually said goodnight back to him.

Later in the darkness, she couldn’t sleep. She lay thinking of her body’s extreme reaction to Darryl’s innocent kiss and of Stevie’s advice and everything they’d discussed. Her senses were primed and she longed for Starr’s arrival.

Are you even going to turn up?

A glance at the illuminated clock revealed a late, late hour. Surely he’d have come by now if he were going to. Throwing back the covers, Hettie prepared to do something she’d almost done last night—go to Starr’s rooms and seek him out—but at that very moment, the door slid almost soundlessly open and a tall figure appeared in her room.

Greetings and questions clamored in her throat yet faced with him Hettie could not utter a word. She simply watched as he moved forward through the shadows and approached her bed. There was a glimmer of moonlight through the partially closed curtains, and it seemed to paint his long, muscular body with silver as he swiftly shed his robe.

If only I could see your eyes.

The plea remained silent though as he lifted the bedcover and took his place beside her.

If only I could see what’s in your heart.

But the moonbeams weren’t sufficient to reveal him and his face and his amazing blue eyes remained frustratingly shadowed.

I must ask him! I must know how he feels!

The questions tormented her as he efficiently stripped away her nightgown, then ran a long hand down the full length of her torso, lingering at breast and hip. She opened her mouth, not knowing what she was going to say, but before she could utter a word, he covered it with his hand. The same hand that had shaped her curves settled gently but firmly over her lips, sealing her to silence.

In the darkness, he seemed fierce, almost like angry primal man forbidding his woman to speak. And then a second later the hand was gone. Only to be replaced by Starr’s mouth, kissing her with a new and unprecedented savagery as if he wanted to expunge any words that might come between them.

Starr, what is it? Do you love me…or hate me?

Her cries remained unuttered as she thrilled to the animal intensity of the kiss. Her jaw ached. She felt as if he were devouring her as his tongue explored and possessed the delicate interior of her mouth. And as he kissed ferociously, his hand slid between her legs, taking possession there too. He caressed her thrillingly, rubbing quite hard and occasionally edging back and forcing her legs wider so he could gain better access.

As she groaned around his tongue, he pushed first one, then two, then three fingers inside her, thrusting and rocking them until her besieged flesh yielded its pleasure to him and she climaxed so intensely it was almost painful.

A second later, he was inside her, his cock as insistent and dominating as his fingers had been. He powered into her, the strokes deep and angry. Instinctively, she rose to him, glorying in his loving ruthlessness and orgasming again quickly and violently.

Her mind was a maelstrom of pure feeling, but at the edge of consciousness, she still heard the desperation in Starr’s hoarse cry of release.

Was that true emotion he was expressing? Or simply the physical, as ever, overwhelming him? Exhaustion overcame her before she was able to determine…

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