with us.”
The club.
I didn’t know how to respond to that. I knew what I wanted to ask: What club? Why? Why won’t Alex come?
I managed to sip my coffee in silence, waiting for Jack to continue.
“If you like the place, we’ll go back again,” Jack said next. “We’ll find someone for Alex to bring.”
None of this made any sort of sense to me. But I held my tongue. Jack seemed to appreciate that. “Good girl,” he grinned, trailing his fingertips along my face, the same way he’d touched Alex in the hotel. “You’re drunk with questions aren’t you?”
I nodded.
“And look at you. Sitting there. Waiting for me to explain. I’m impressed.”
A glow worked through me…
“But I’m not going to explain.”
…then instantly faded.
“You’ll see soon enough. You’ll understand right away. There’s no excitement in giving away all the surprises at once.”
He reached for me then, pulling me up and onto his lap. He kissed me, so different from Alex’s quick brush of his lips on mine. Jack kissed me fully, out there on the boulevard, with everyone watching. Where anyone could see. His tenderness was surprising, and I realized that he was still answering my question from the hotel room, with me in the starring role now: Does he touch you gentle?
Oh, yes. Sometimes, yes. Desperately gentle.
But only as an appetizer. Only as a prelude of what was to come.
Bonus excerpt from You Will Be Mine
Did I say I dressed for Paris?
What I meant was that I dressed for Jack. And while the club scene had been unreal to me, like a waking dream, what I needed from Jack was…was the way he treated me now, his grip viselike on my wrist as he led me back to the bed.
“Clever girl,” he said, noting the garters. Easier to deal with than pantyhose. Easier to ignore, anyway. He pulled me over his lap and flipped up the short pleated skirt. His hand rested naturally on the rear of those silky knickers, and I sucked in my breath. Waiting.
Oh, yes, I wanted this. Jack’s hand on my panty-clad bum. Jack spanking me with his firm palm, then sliding those panties down my thighs and letting me feel his flesh on mine. But he didn’t do what I wanted. He didn’t fulfill my need. He only sat there, with me over his lap, and his hand so heavy on my upturned ass.
He made me wait, until I felt ridiculous in that pose, felt myself dying to squirm, to arch, to beg with my body, or maybe with my voice.
But I knew better than that. I'd been well trained by now.
Jack stroked my ass with his fingers, touching me softly, driving me wild with desire. And yet, he didn’t give in. He didn’t take pity on me in the slightest.
“You’ve got a choice,” he said finally.
“Yes, Jack.” My voice hoarse.
“I can spank you now, exactly how you want. Exactly how you crave.”
Oh, those words. What they did to me. And still I managed to respond: “Yes, Jack.”
“But then I will punish you in public sometime today. I won’t tell you where or when. I won't give you any warning.”
Had I been feeling tough only moments before? Now, I held my breath, waiting. Because I could tell there was more.
“Or you can wait until tonight. And I’ll let you slide today.”
Those were my choices? I wanted him to spank me, and it seemed like a no-brainer. And yet… I didn’t know where we were going. What if he chose to punish me at the Louvre? Or in some public gardens, where everyone could watch? What if he chose to pull off his belt at the top of the Eiffel tower? What was Jack thinking?
I felt his hand on me, petting me. So soft.
I hated soft.
“What will it be, Sam?” Jack crooned. “What do you need?”
What did I need?
That was simple.
“Take them down, Jack,” I whispered. “Take them down.”
About the Author
Called a “Trollop with a Laptop” by East Bay Express, a “Literary Siren” by Good Vibrations, and “hot and honest” by Publishers Weekly, Alison Tyler has made being naughty a full-time
The club.
I didn’t know how to respond to that. I knew what I wanted to ask: What club? Why? Why won’t Alex come?
I managed to sip my coffee in silence, waiting for Jack to continue.
“If you like the place, we’ll go back again,” Jack said next. “We’ll find someone for Alex to bring.”
None of this made any sort of sense to me. But I held my tongue. Jack seemed to appreciate that. “Good girl,” he grinned, trailing his fingertips along my face, the same way he’d touched Alex in the hotel. “You’re drunk with questions aren’t you?”
I nodded.
“And look at you. Sitting there. Waiting for me to explain. I’m impressed.”
A glow worked through me…
“But I’m not going to explain.”
…then instantly faded.
“You’ll see soon enough. You’ll understand right away. There’s no excitement in giving away all the surprises at once.”
He reached for me then, pulling me up and onto his lap. He kissed me, so different from Alex’s quick brush of his lips on mine. Jack kissed me fully, out there on the boulevard, with everyone watching. Where anyone could see. His tenderness was surprising, and I realized that he was still answering my question from the hotel room, with me in the starring role now: Does he touch you gentle?
Oh, yes. Sometimes, yes. Desperately gentle.
But only as an appetizer. Only as a prelude of what was to come.
Bonus excerpt from You Will Be Mine
Did I say I dressed for Paris?
What I meant was that I dressed for Jack. And while the club scene had been unreal to me, like a waking dream, what I needed from Jack was…was the way he treated me now, his grip viselike on my wrist as he led me back to the bed.
“Clever girl,” he said, noting the garters. Easier to deal with than pantyhose. Easier to ignore, anyway. He pulled me over his lap and flipped up the short pleated skirt. His hand rested naturally on the rear of those silky knickers, and I sucked in my breath. Waiting.
Oh, yes, I wanted this. Jack’s hand on my panty-clad bum. Jack spanking me with his firm palm, then sliding those panties down my thighs and letting me feel his flesh on mine. But he didn’t do what I wanted. He didn’t fulfill my need. He only sat there, with me over his lap, and his hand so heavy on my upturned ass.
He made me wait, until I felt ridiculous in that pose, felt myself dying to squirm, to arch, to beg with my body, or maybe with my voice.
But I knew better than that. I'd been well trained by now.
Jack stroked my ass with his fingers, touching me softly, driving me wild with desire. And yet, he didn’t give in. He didn’t take pity on me in the slightest.
“You’ve got a choice,” he said finally.
“Yes, Jack.” My voice hoarse.
“I can spank you now, exactly how you want. Exactly how you crave.”
Oh, those words. What they did to me. And still I managed to respond: “Yes, Jack.”
“But then I will punish you in public sometime today. I won’t tell you where or when. I won't give you any warning.”
Had I been feeling tough only moments before? Now, I held my breath, waiting. Because I could tell there was more.
“Or you can wait until tonight. And I’ll let you slide today.”
Those were my choices? I wanted him to spank me, and it seemed like a no-brainer. And yet… I didn’t know where we were going. What if he chose to punish me at the Louvre? Or in some public gardens, where everyone could watch? What if he chose to pull off his belt at the top of the Eiffel tower? What was Jack thinking?
I felt his hand on me, petting me. So soft.
I hated soft.
“What will it be, Sam?” Jack crooned. “What do you need?”
What did I need?
That was simple.
“Take them down, Jack,” I whispered. “Take them down.”
About the Author
Called a “Trollop with a Laptop” by East Bay Express, a “Literary Siren” by Good Vibrations, and “hot and honest” by Publishers Weekly, Alison Tyler has made being naughty a full-time
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