Sexual Deceptions 1 - Brenda Williamson & Rayne Forrest
A two author anthology containing Slave of Saharic, and Mischief at Midnight.
Now available at Whiskey Creek Press Torrid!
MISCHIEF AT MIDNIGHT by Rayne Forrest
Madelyn Murphy isn’t your typical spoiled rich girl. She only has one household drone, after all. Why? Because she’s so liberal, she does her own cooking.
Triple D Drones’ owner, Dallas Dyson, has made a fortune in the service drone industry. He’ll even lend a helping hand himself if someone’s in a pinch.
When Madelyn’s service drone breaks just before a dinner party, she calls Triple D Drones for help. When the new “Dallas” prototype shows up to lend a hand, Madelyn finds she needs help with more than serving dinner. Isn’t service what a Triple D drone does best?
Dallas peeked around the corner and made sure Madelyn had closed her bedroom door. Of all the stupid, lame-brained ideas he’d ever had, impersonating a drone took the prize. He had to visit the little boy’s room in a big way, something drones didn’t do. Of course, a drone wouldn’t have sucked down a bottle of mineral water on the way to this assignment. He darted into the powder room and made the fastest pit stop of his life. It almost wasn’t fast enough.
“Dallas, where are you?”
He barely got his zipper safely up without unmanning himself before she flung the door open. Her brows knitted together, the most adorable quizzical expression on her face.
“What on earth are you doing?”
Thank heavens he could think fast on his feet and had an answer for her, a lie though it was.
“Straightening my tie, ma’am. Is it suitable?”
Madelyn smiled up at him, surprising him all over again with her open attitude toward drones. Most people treated them poorly and never recognized that a drone’s programming expanded with positive interaction. At least Triple D drones did.
“Here. Let me fix this for you.” Sparks danced on her fingers as she adjusted his tie. It was paradoxical that she wore an array of glittering diamonds and yet she maintained her own fingernails, not an applied cosmetic surface. “There. Perfect.”
She turned her back to him giving him a look at the long, graceful line of her spine. Her smooth skin glowed warmly from her bath, a bath that had been scented with tropical florals, heavy with plumeria.
“Can you zip me, please?”
She looked over her shoulder at him. He blinked dumbly at her. What had she said?
“Dallas, please zip my dress.”
He jumped to comply, clenching his jaw against the rush of longing that swept him as his knuckles brushed her soft skin. Ignoring the voice of reason, he ran his fingertips along the top of the garment, smoothing it. She dangled a necklace over her shoulder.
Dallas stepped closer to her, breathing in her exotic scent. He gently plucked the diamond collar from her fingers and draped it around the graceful column of her neck. The stones were real, but they couldn’t match Madelyn’s inner beauty. Everything he’d ever learned about women told him she was a rare gem.
And he was a drone, in her home for one purpose only—to serve dinner.
He fastened the clasp of the necklace and bent to her. His eyes closed as his lips caressed the soft skin of her shoulder, once, then again. Gentle kisses to lure her to a moment when he could confess his transgression and beg for her forgiveness. Madelyn inhaled sharply. To his utter amazement she tilted her head, inviting him to continue. Being ten kinds of a fool, he did, worshipping her with kisses.
She thought he was a personal pleasure drone and she clearly needed a moment of what those drones’ programming offered. How much more trouble could he be in if he gave it to her?
Dallas slipped his arms around her waist, splaying his hands across the gentle swell of her belly to pull her back against him. His manhood responded, surging strongly, swelling in quick wonderful jolts that echoed his racing pulse. His lips teased at her earlobe on their way to shower small kisses along her jaw.
She moaned, a low, dark sound of a woman caught unsuspecting by her own desire. Dallas bent her forward, his erection nestling between her buttocks. She boldly pressed her rump firmly to him, wiggling her hips. Her hand snaked between them, her questing fingers gauging his length and girth. Gooseflesh shivered across his belly and chest. His balls drew up close to his body. His penis throbbed with unwarranted anticipation and he reminded himself firmly that this momentary indulgence would not continue after the dinner.
“Oh, my,” she whispered breathlessly. “You really do have a few upgrades.”
Electronic ISBN - 978-1-60313-377-7
ISBN print: 978-1-60313-376-0
Buy link: http://www.whiskeycreekpress.com/torrid/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=315&zenid=d584eb80484b9ca2b199666fe0cc1313
8:18 AM | Labels: Brenda Williamson, erotic romance excerpt, futuristic romance, Mischeif at Midnight, Rayne Forrest, Sexual Deceptions, Whiskey Creek Press Torrid