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Double Shot--Book one in the Long Shot Series

Carina | Amazon | B&N | iTunes
Carina Press
Genre: Erotic
ISBN: #9781426892387

Double Shot--Book one in the Long Shot Series

Coffee shop owner Sadie Long has been lusting after her good friend Paul Williams for years. So she's more than a little intrigued when he invites her to a business meeting at Mavericks, the sex club where he works. While catering an event at the club is not quite the proposition she was hoping for, her business could use the boost. And she can't resist the chance to work closely with Paul in such a sexually charged atmosphere. Enter the club's hot owner, Josh, and suddenly Sadie's fantasizing about being part of a threesome.

Paul has always wanted Sadie, but never thought she'd see him as anything more than a friend. On the night of the party, he and Josh tempt Sadie to reveal her deepest desire—a desire both men are eager to help fulfill.

Giving in to her sensual side, Sadie enjoys a night of mind-blowing sex. But in the light of day, will she lose Paul as a friend, or gain him as a lover?

Read Excerpt | Read Reviews 

Reviews

"It was a classic tale with a naughty twist. Who can resist the story of long time friends and their venture into a romantic relationship?" Secrets of a Book Lover

"Double Shot is a fast paced and compelling story. The sex is explosive as Sadie pushes her boundaries and explores her sexuality." Book Reviews And More by Kathy

Excerpt

Never in her life had Sadie been to a sex club. She did have certain preconceptions about what the interior of one should look like—metal trim, neon lights, lots of leather and nakedness—but not once had she considered the inclusion of the large wooden cross currently facing her from the stage. Anyone entering Mavericks for the first time would be struck by the sight. Leather cuffs dangled from the tips of shining silver chains secured to the dark polished wood. The beams were crossed with supporting leather straps. The thing taunted her naïveté, practically begging her to come forward and throw herself at its mercy.

She cleared her throat.

Warmth from the afternoon sun still heated her skin, a contrast to the cool air of the bar. She’d agreed to come at this hour because the club would be empty of the normal crowd, saving her from any possible embarrassment. While she’d known Paul wouldn’t tease her for being a bit wide-eyed during her first visit to Mavericks, she’d rather not face an entire room filled with club members. Thankfully, the main bar was otherwise empty of any other unusual equipment.

Sadie could practically hear her siblings teasing as she avoided getting too close to the behemoth in the room. She was not a prude, thank you very much. Her footsteps clicked as she kept walking in a wide circle around the center stage and the cross. Sadie wasn’t completely innocent. In theory, she knew what a St. Andrew’s Cross was even if she lacked the practical experience. Her sister, Paige, had told her about a few times when she’d been stretched out on one, how she could have come out of her skin for sexual turn-on she’d experienced—and hadn’t that been a screwed-up conversation.

But being faced with the reality was much different than any fleeting fantasies Sadie had.

“Paul?”

No response. Sadie checked her watch, wishing once again that she’d called ahead to make sure he wouldn’t be late. She’d come right over from the coffee shop, which was only a five-minute power walk along Wellesley through QueerWest. She should head back and wait for Paul. It would be better than skulking about an adult-only club by herself.

She hated being alone.

“Paul?” Yeah, this was so not going to plan.

Unable to stop herself any longer, Sadie’s gaze slid over to the cross. She pictured herself tied up, stretched wide and exposed, surrounded in the crowded club, making her the center of attention. Paul would be there, dressed in leather pants, bare-chested and wielding a flogger, marking her pale skin. The reality was, she couldn’t imagine being brave enough to do something like that. She wasn’t like Paige. Or Ian for that matter. Her siblings had gotten all the showmanship genes in the family. Sadie was content to hang out on the sidelines.

And if she were being completely honest with herself, being on the receiving end of a public flogging wasn’t what actually fired her sexual imagination—but being with Paul did.

The tap, tap, tap of footfalls on the catwalk above grabbed her attention. She caught sight of Paul as he turned the corner and came down the metal staircase. When his gaze met hers, it was like a switch flipping somewhere deep inside her chest. Squeezing the edge of her clipboard, she mentally beat down the butterflies.

“Sadie! I’m sorry. The minute I walked through the door, I had to take an emergency call. I’m gone for twenty minutes and you’d think the world was falling apart at my office. You weren’t waiting long?”

It was a hedonistic pleasure to watch him move. Ten years, and she still hadn’t grown tired of the pastime. She loved the sure way his long legs chewed up the distance as he approached her, the sparkle in his brown eyes as he offered his hand to shake. Even the way his brown hair curled around his ears kept her mesmerized.

“I’ve only been here a few minutes. I’ve been admiring your décor.” She nodded in the direction of the cross and prayed she wasn’t blushing. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

“You like that?” He winked at her. “I’m not into the whole Dom/sub thing, but it’s a popular feature of the club. Josh’s pride and joy.”
“It certainly makes an impression.” She pulled her clipboard closer to her chest and turned her back to the cross. “You said on the phone you had a proposition for me? I take it it’s not a movie night.”

Even though Sadie had known him for a decade, it was hard to look at Paul and notblush. She’d had a crush on him since the moment her best friend had introduced them, though she hadn’t shared that particular bit of information with anyone.

“No movie this time. You were the first person who came to mind for this particular project. And you’re not allowed to say no."

Christine d'Abo © 2011
Carina Press

 

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