It's #releaseday! *dances* Meet Natasha's Mr. Satisfaction Guaranteed

He's here, he's here, so please excuse my demented jumping rabbit impression. I have already scared the cat and made the toddler giggle, and the dogs have got that long suffering 'here she goes again' expression on their faces.

A friend asked me on Facebook how many books this latest release makes and I actually had to go to my website to count them all. The answer was twenty seven!

Hurray for an overactive muse, eh. Of course that figure includes my free reads and stories in Anthologies, so some of them are only shorties, but still, it made me smile. 

Anyhooo onto Natasha's Story. Read on for a little peek into the first chapter...

Mr. Satisfaction Guaranteed, the card read—what a pretentious name for an escort.

Still, cancer survivor Natasha has to do something to reclaim her sexuality after her reconstructive surgery, and he comes highly recommended—by her mother no less.

When she meets the experienced Dom, he makes every submissive bone in her body sing and wish for things that can never be. Or can they? Fantasy fulfillment is all well and good, but she is just another client.

As they test all of her boundaries, will their one night heal her, or break her?

Be Warned: BDSM, m/m sex, mmf play, voyeurism, spanking


****

Natasha wiped her clammy hands down the sides of her little black dress and swallowed the lump of apprehension away. She formed her lips into a tight smile for the benefit of the liveried man opening the door for her and stepped into the opulent reception area of the sinfully expensive hotel their assignation was to take place.

She never went to places like this, especially not late at night and dressed to kill, as per the instructions. Her stilettos seemed too loud as they clattered along the marble flooring, and her fingers cramped with the iron grip she had on her clutch bag. She slowed her steps, scanning the area for any clues as to where the piano bar was. The receptionist behind the desk smiled at her, and she squared her shoulders and approached the gleaming oak desk.

"Can I help you with something, Miss? You look a little lost." The silver haired man's cultured tones soothed some of the anxiety clawing at her insides. He seemed kind and not at all phased by her turning up with no luggage and poured into a dress that showed every one of the curves she had fought so hard to regain. Natasha caught a glimpse of herself in the floor length mirror to one side. She did feel sinfully sexy; that was the whole purpose of this trip after all. The dress clung to her skin, leaving her entire back exposed, and the hem ended just above her knee, showing off her legs. Those were the only thing her illness hadn't ravaged. The rest of her body still felt far too new and not really like her. The breasts straining the fabric would take some getting used to.

Pushing the unwelcome thoughts aside, she turned her attention to the patiently waiting receptionist instead. She glanced at his name tag—Laurence. How very civilized and fitting for the surroundings. She wondered briefly whether that was his real name or an assumed one to fit in with the ambience of the centuries-old hotel, before inwardly rolling her eyes at her train of thought.

Does it matter? Woman, stop stalling.

"Well, if you could just point me in the direction of the piano bar? I am meeting someone."

"Certainly. In fact I will get Rudy here to take you." He snapped his fingers, and Natasha jumped when the eager young bell-boy appeared by her side. "Rudy, take this young lady to the Piano Bar please."

Natasha threw him a glance from under her lashes, but there was no malice behind those words, his professional smile not slipping one little bit, and his eyes seemed to hold genuine warmth. Or maybe she was just trying to convince herself of that fact. It had been a long time since anyone had called her young lady.

"Thank you, Laurence." Inbred courtesy made her utter her thanks, and she received a nod of acknowledgment in return, before he returned to his paperwork. Thus dismissed she followed a patiently waiting Rudy, as he wove past the clusters of welcoming seating arrangements dotted around the deserted foyer. He stopped outside a long room decorated in warm red colors. It seemed deserted, apart from the bored looking bartender who straightened up when he saw her. The slow appraisal he gave her body as he ran his gaze over her, gave her a much needed ego boost. He smiled—a well-practiced butter up the customer so she leaves me a generous tip smile—that turned the corners of Natasha's lips up in amusement.

Little did the hot and far too young for her wanna-be gigolo know, that Natasha had spent years behind a bar very much like this one, before life's cruel twists had forced her to re-evaluate. A sense of calm invaded her. This was familiar territory, and over-eager bar-keeps she could deal with. She just wasn't so sure she could handle the man she was about to meet.

When her mother of all people had handed her his card, Natasha had laughed.

"An escort service, mother, really? Do I look that desperate to you?"

"No, not desperate, but you need to have some fun. You need to feel like a woman, and he can do that for you. He comes highly recommended. Harriet used him after her divorce, and well, she's been like a new woman since. She says, he's very picky, and only takes clients on personal recommendation, and he costs a fortune. But don’t worry about that. Call it my birthday present to you. I know you said you didn't want one this year, but turning forty is not that bad, you know, and you need to re-claim your life."

Natasha had not been convinced, not at all. How was paying someone to have sex with her re-claiming her life? And what a pretentious name for an escort. Mr. Satisfaction Guaranteed.

Still, she had pocketed his card and after yet another frustrating and unsatisfying encounter with her vibrator had e-mailed him.

What followed had been a long drawn out negotiation, during which she'd not only shared her entire medical history, but also all of her sexual fantasies and needs. There had been something strangely liberating about the process. At least she knew that SG, as he liked to be called, would not run a mile when he saw her naked. Well, he better not, after the fortune her mum had parted with on her behalf. She was paying for her to be serviced after all.

Natasha was dimly aware of Rudy's slight bow in her direction, and then she was alone in the bar with the bar-keep still smiling at her.

She sauntered over to him, her heels not making a sound on the plush carpet now under her feet, and slid onto one of the bar stools.

"Why, hello there, lovely lady. What brings you here tonight?" The young man flashed her another killer smile, designed to make women swoon, and Natasha suppressed a giggle. He was a bit on the short side. With her heels she would tower over him, were she not sitting down, but he did have a cute smile and dimples, that just out of bed look hair, and she bet there was a quite  good body lurking under that uniform. He was also far too clean shaven and looked young enough to be her son. Natasha knew he had to be at least twenty-one to work behind the bar, but he really didn't look much older than that, even if he did have a decidedly naughty twinkle in his eyes.

She decided to ignore the obvious come on and looked at the shiny bar counter instead.

"I'm meeting someone, but I don’t think he's here yet."  Her stomach tightened saying the words. If he didn't show up she really would look like billy-no-mates, and desperate to boot. Nothing sadder than women of a certain age hanging around bars, dressed to kill, and waiting for that elusive someone to come and meet them. Lord knows she had met enough over the years, and hells bells, was he thinking she was one.

She looked up to see him frown over her head, before he busied himself with the glasses.

"What can I get you?"

"The lady will have a Raspberry Collins." The deep, commanding voice sent a shiver of need down her spine, not helped by the knuckles tracing down her exposed back. A warm hand swept the long artificial hair off her neck, and she felt the mere brush of hot, firm lips on her skin. "Loving the color choice, Natasha." Another shiver went through her at his whispered words in her ear.

His orders had been for her to not wear a wig, but her hair was still too short for her liking, so she had donned the long red haired disguise to give her the courage she needed to go through with this. His hand trailed lower, down toward her ass, and he murmured his approval when he found her panty-less.

"I'm glad to see you followed the rest of my instructions, pet. I wouldn't want to have to start our session with a punishment."

Natasha released the breath she hadn't been aware of holding, and let his comforting warmth surround her. He smelled so good. Whiffs of expensive cologne mixed in with the musk of man, spicy and sweet all rolled into each other. Strong muscular arms caged her in against the bar, as he leant forward and rested his hands on the polished steel bar surrounding the counter.

"Go and lock the doors, Jonas. I paid for the exclusive use of this room, and I don’t want to be disturbed."

*****

Intrigued?

You can get the new Mr. SG  in these places.

Evernight   Amazon  Amazon UK  Bookstrand  ARe

And if you haven't read the story who started it all yet - this is it.

Can an invitation-only escort service really change your life?

Stuck in a rut and desperate for a good lay, Anna spends a fortune to meet with the mysterious Mr. Satisfaction Guaranteed. But can she really go through with a night of no strings attached, paid for sex? Has she become that girl?

And can one man really fulfill all her fantasies? Only one way to find out.

Be Warned: BDSM, bondage, sex toys.

****

You can get it in these places and it's FREE!


Evernight  Bookstrand  ARe

Have a great day, folks.

D xxx