NAUGHTY SPANKING STORIES FROM A TO Z 2 is now shipping from Amazon.com. This Pretty Things Press anthology is edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel and contains my short story, In Perfect Time. Check out the list of contributing authors over at Amazon! It's not yet available on the UK site, but the first in the series is, so it may happen at a later date.
Here's a teaser from my story:
IN PERFECT TIME
Watching the Maestro in action always got me hot. We’d been working it for nearly two hours and the heat between my thighs had been building by the second. I ached to lift my hair from the back of my neck, to cross my legs and squeeze my thighs together, to put my hands into my underwear and crush my pussy in my fingers. Even my clarinet felt hot in my hands and I squirmed on my seat, trying to focus.
It was something about the way he looked, so intense and focused, while he stood on the podium in front of us, leading his musicians through the score. He exuded an aura of power, more than any other conductor I had worked with, and it had me at meltdown point. His hair flashed back from his forehead and then his roving eyes suddenly met mine. I skittered my gaze away, trying to concentrate on my sheet music.
“Enough,” he slammed his baton down on the podium and stepped down from it, pacing toward us. “Some of you are letting your concentration wander.” His steady gaze did a slow circuit of the orchestra and several people shuffled in their seats. My breath was trapped in my lungs. He paused when he reached me. “Let’s call it a day.”
A hum of appreciation went around the assembled musicians.
“Except for Caroline and Jeremy,” he added, “the rest of you can go.”
I glanced over at Jeremy, who sighed and reached for his violin case. He was losing it because they had a new baby at home and he was tired – what was my excuse? We had a performance in two days and I was letting deviant thoughts about the maestro distract me from our penultimate rehearsal.
By the time I’d packed up my clarinet and sheet music he’d had a quiet word with Jeremy. Jeremy gave me a wave and a sympathetic smile, and then followed the last few musicians who were exiting from the stage.
The maestro paced back and forth, waiting for me.
I walked over to him and set my clarinet case down by my feet. Folding my hands in front of me, I obediently waited to see what he would say. As I did I noticed that his fine linen shirt was open at the collar, revealing the strong column of his neck, and that his black evening jacket failed to mask the breadth of his shoulders.
He waited until the last figure disappeared through the door and it swung closed, leaving us alone together in the auditorium. There was an eerie, tense silence surrounding us. It only broke when he stepped forward and his heels sounded against the wooden floor of the stage.
He looked me up and down, his stare determined and keen. I could feel the weight of it through my shirt and my pulse tripped higher.
With one finger, he reached out and trailed down the buttons of my shirt. “Caroline, if Stravinsky were here he’d be appalled by your behavior during our rendition of this masterpiece.” The back of his hand made brief and tantalizing contact with my breasts, where I ached for more. “Do I have to drum into you the importance of giving it your full concentration?”
“Forgive me,” I murmured, “I was distracted.” The problem was that I got even hotter when he was in the mood to chastise; he looked demonic and I was his willing slave. My heart was pounding. I looked at him pleadingly from under my lashes. I was so sexually aroused, I couldn’t help myself.
“You’re a dirty girl thinking dirty thoughts, it's written all over your face... and when your mind drifts, you distract others… namely me!” A frown marked his brow, but I could see the black lust in his eyes. “You’re in heat, and with that damn clarinet in your mouth I warrant you make half the orchestra want you.”
He snatched up his baton from the podium. “I think you’ll agree that some basic training in focusing on the job is in order.” His voice was more subdued, but he was simmering with barely contained sexual tension, just as I was.
I managed to nod.