Slave to Love - Sexy Tales of Erotic RestraintRestraint is sexy. It can be a simple leather strap, a shiny pair of handcuffs, a delicate silk scarf, or a dominant’s stern gaze. The yearning for a partner who will take control can grip one as powerfully as the most intricate, indecipherable rope knot. In Slave to Love, Alison Tyler gathers the most popular — and often most taboo — fantasies of sexual control and erotic restraint. Featuring such popular erotica writers as Thomas Roche, Saskia Walker, and Rachel Kramer Bussel, Slave to Love is luscious, naughty, and infinitely sexy.
This collection is edited by Alison Tyler and contains my new short story "Watching Lois Perform." And just check out the cover. I know, I’m always raving about Cleis covers. It's in my nature to do so, I studied art history for 9 years. ;-) Part of what is so sexy is that their images are often at unusual angles, not just straight on. It makes a hell of a difference, by suggesting power, or intimacy. Anyway, here's a teaser from my story:
Watching Lois Perform
Saskia Walker
“Trust me, Lois.” Jack’s arm shot out, blocking the doorway to her office. “I know what you need.” His shirt sleeve was rolled up, revealing a strong forearm dusted with black hair, his fist sure and large against the doorframe.
Halted in her steps, she took a deep breath. Her glance moved to meet his. “Trust me, Jack, you don’t.” Steeling herself, she pushed his arm aside, ignoring his knowing look, ignoring those dark eyes filled with suggestion and the tangible wall of testosterone he exuded.
She headed for her desk, her stiletto heels clicking over the polished wood floor. The skin on her back prickled with awareness, awareness brought about by his presence. He’d done it again. He’d made her curious, responsive. She didn’t take any nonsense from the men she worked with, but Jack Fulton had unsettled her. Counting to five, she put her laptop down on the desk and turned to face him, ready to challenge his comment. The door was ajar, the space empty. He was gone.
She shook her head. “Typical.” Grabbing her bag and coat, she left the building.
The pavement outside was growing crowded with commuters; the Friday evening London rush hour was under way. She stepped into the crush, leaving the office behind, hurrying to the tube station and descending the escalator at a pace. The display board told her it was four minutes until her train was due.
She strode up and down the platform, her body wired. She was always like this after delivering a successful presentation. It had gone well, and she’d easily dealt with the put-downs issued by the men who defied her female power. She thrived on it, but now she longed to throw off her city suit and heels.
The crowd thickened on the platform behind her, noisy and restless. Wind funneled down the tunnel, a distant train rumbled. She glanced across the tracks. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw Jack standing opposite her, still as a predator about to pounce. A barely perceptible smile lifted the corners of his mouth. Even across the rail tracks she could see the intense look in his eyes.
She swallowed. What was it about Jack Fulton? The way he looked at her, it did powerful things to her, sexual things. They’d worked together for just a few months, but he was one of the few men who didn't challenge her. Instead he sat back with a secret smile, watching as she defended herself at board meetings, where she proved over and again that she had earned her right to be in this male dominated world. But it was more than that. His sexuality was dark and tangible, evident in the way he carried himself and the way he scrutinized her. He made her self-aware in the extreme, her underwear soon growing damp when his gaze followed her with that knowing look in his eyes. The knowing look he had on right now.
He inclined his head in greeting. She nodded back and then glanced away, fidgeting with the strap of her shoulder bag. One minute until her train arrived. His earlier comment echoed through her mind. ‘I know what you need.’ Her curiosity was growing. Her instant denial had been because of the controversy at the meeting, where she’d been giving the research stats for a proposal to change power source in the company’s major manufacturing plant. Men were always telling her they knew better than her, even though it was her field of expertise. As soon as she’d rebuffed his comment about knowing what she needed, she’d realized he meant something other than work. Something more intimate. She wanted to know more. And he’d gone.
Glancing back, she saw that his train was approaching. He never took his eyes off her. She craned her neck when her view was obscured by the moving carriages. The shift of the crowd into the train made it impossible to pick him out. Then it was gone. The platform was empty. She stared at the place where he had stood until her train pulled in. She moved to the far side of the carriage, where she could stand out her journey, and turned on her heel, just in time to see Jack close in behind her.
“Your place it is then.” His eyes glittered with anticipation, with certainty.
Her heart thudded in her chest. Her lips parted, but this time no retort emerged. Between her thighs, a pulse throbbed with need. She closed her mouth, snatching at the overhead handhold for support.
His smile was triumphant.
Available from Amazon.com and Amazon UK.
