Regina is a romance writer in need of research. Tucker is a Dom with a spanking bench. Who tops whom? Find out You’re Tops
When her husband ran off with a perky, much younger woman, Regina Cox got the house, a decrepit car, and her freedom. Divorced, she plans to remain man-free and focus on her career as a writer. Trouble is, the skinny boy next door who used to tease her about her braces is now a handsome hunk and features as the hero in her latest romance novel.
Tucker Owen is a Dom with his eye on the new divorcee next door. His fantasies center around draping Regina over his spanking bench. Too bad she’s a strong woman and not submissive in the least. But when he learns she writes erotica romance and is having trouble getting the research right, he offers a week-long tutorial that’s bound to teach them both a few things.
Regina can’t refuse all the research she could ask for and no strings sex on top. And with the sassy sub, Tucker soon discovers the pleasure that comes when the topper is topped.
“Trust me, Gina.”
Tuckers voice crawled through her veins like warmed honey. She didn’t dare admit she didn’t trust herself to be alone with him. Still, she was curious as to what he wanted to show her. “Fine. But if you’re trying to trick me into your bed, I know basic self-defense.”
“I promise to keep my hands to myself.” He headed down a long hallway.
She hesitated when he started up the stairs. “Maybe you should tell me what you’re going to show me.” Sighing, he retraced his steps.
“Don’t trust easily, do you, Gina.”
She tipped her chin. “No.” Men are pigs. Except this man was one hell of a sexy jungle cat, and if he did take her into his bedroom, she might beg him to tame her–. She nearly choked. Good heavens. Now she was throbbing in earnest.
He laughed low in his throat. “I’d love to know what just went through your mind. Care to share?”
“Hell no.” She couldn’t meet his gaze.
“Knowing your active imagination, I can guess. Look at me.” He waited until she sighed and obeyed. “I’m a Dom. You said you needed some research, so I thought you might like to see a playroom firsthand, see the equipment, and I can answer any questions you might have.”
Of all the things she’d expected, his confession came as a complete surprise. The spit in her mouth dried even as her heart did a couple of hard thumps behind her breast. “You’re a Dom. For real?” Holy cow.
He smiled gently. “Yes, for real. You know enough to know that a D/s relationship is built on trust and mutual agreement. As much as I might like to see you on my spanking bench, I’m not going to ask you to do anything you don’t want.” He let his gaze travel over her from the tip of her head to her tingling toes. “And if you want a demonstration, well, I’d be more than happy to oblige.”
“Yeah, I bet.” The idea of him giving her a demonstration sent heat zinging through her. Her mouth was dry as a desert. She had dozens of butterflies fluttering inside her stomach. When he indicated she should go up the stairs, she went, hyper-aware of him following close behind.
“To the right, second door.” He leaned past her, opened the door, and flipped on a light switch.
Regina stepped inside, and her jaw dropped. God, not only was Tucker her hero, but he was a Dom as well. She stared at the king sized bed with four posts stretching toward the ceiling. And she gulped as she recalled the scene she’d written, her heroine tied to the bedpost with a silk scarf, foot raised and resting on the bed while the hero— Heat seared her neck and rose into her face, burning her cheeks. Thank god, Tucker hadn’t read that little naughty bit.
Behind her, his hands closed over her shoulders. He leaned close, whispered in her ear. “What are you thinking about, pet?” His voice was silky smooth, low and amused. He trailed a finger along her cheek. “Your blush is very becoming.”
“Blushing is a curse,” she barely managed. She did not need her overactive mind running away with her or fantasies centered around her childhood nemesis clouding her mind. Research, she reminded herself as she glanced away from the bed and nearly groaned aloud when she spotted the spanking bench against the far wall.
“Ah, here we go.” He strode over, pulled it toward the center of the room. He lifted a brow when she remained just inside the door. “You are here to check it out, are you not?”
Sydney St. Claire is the pseudonym of Susan Edwards, author of 14 Historical Native American/Western/Paranormal romances and the author of the popular “White” Series.
Sydney loves writing and sharing stories of love, happiness and dreams come true with her readers. She credits her mother for her writing success. Encouraged to read as a child, she always preferred happy endings which meant romances were her favorite genre. Sydney takes her readers into the world of erotica romance where her characters come together in explosive passion as they solve life’s problems and find true love along with the best sex our hero and heroine have ever experienced.
Sydney’s office is quite crowded with three dogs at her feet and five cats to keep her company while she writes. Three cats always insist on beds on her desk, barely leaving enough room for her monitor and keyboard. Life gets fun when all five insist on supervising…
When not writing, she enjoys crafts of all sorts including quilting, sewing, cross-stitch and knitting. She and her husband of 30 + years are avid gardeners. He takes care of the veggies, and Susan is in charge of the ‘pretties’. Her medicine wheel garden is in a contact state of war: flowers vs. weeds. Sadly, right now the weeds are wining…
While writing, she listens to a wide variety of music. Her current favorites are Blackmore’s Night and David Lanz.
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