Twisted Affair Vol. 1
Twisted Affair
Vol. 1
By M.S. Parker
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 Belmonte Publishing LLC
Published by Belmonte Publishing LLC.
Book Description
I'
ve always loved my life. Women, drugs and alcohol. Three of the greatest things in the world. Then my father decided that I wasn't living up to the high standards of our family and gave me an ultimatum. Get married or lose it all.
When Blayne Westmore screws up for the thousandth time, his father lays down the law. Blayne has to find a wife and settle down or he'll be disowned.
Twenty-three year-old Livie Dusek is a Czech immigrant working hard towards the American dream – one that doesn't involve love. But when a handsome stranger offers her a marriage proposal and more money than she could ever dream off, she accepts, much against her sister’s wishes. Livie has just one rule for her future husband: No sex between them.
Don't miss Vol. 1 of the newest steamy series from best-selling author M.S. Parker.
Release Schedule
Twisted Affair takes place over five volumes with a new volume released every Thursday in March.
Here’s the complete release schedule. If you would like to get an email reminder on release day, you can sign up to my email list here:
MS Parker Email List
Twisted Affair Vol. 1 – February 25
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Twisted Affair Vol. 2 – March 5
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Twisted Affair Vol. 3 – March 12
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Twisted Affair Vol. 4 – March 19
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Twisted Affair Vol. 5 – March 26
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Chapter 1
Blayne
My life was fuck-freaking-tastic. Seriously. I was rich and not bad on the eye, or so I’d been told. I didn't have to give a damn about responsibility or anything that even smelled like it. And none of that was in my head. It was all true.
Chiseled good looks that women said resembled some of Hollywood's hottest. A naturally muscular build that I didn't have to spend hours at the gym maintaining. I was tall, but not freakishly so. A nice six-three. And I was more than well-proportioned, or so I'd been told. I was still a year away from thirty, no signs of gray in my sandy brown hair and no thinning. I spent all my time getting high, drinking and either watching naked women dance, or fucking them.
Like I said, I had a fuck-freaking-tastic life.
Case in point, I was currently in Philadelphia's hottest strip club. It was exclusive, so only people like me got in. The place was packed with the gorgeous, the rich or the famous. A lot were more than one of those things, but only a few were like me and all three. Okay, so I wasn't stop-on-the-street famous, but there were plenty of people who knew who I was, especially here.
“Hey, Blayne,” a man called out over the music.
I looked up and grinned as my friend held out his hand. We shook and I felt cool plastic slide against my palm. My grin widened.
“Thanks, Neal.” I palmed the bag as I pulled back my hand. The cops didn't exactly frequent
Exotica
, and the club's security tended to look the other way, as long as people were discreet and no one caused problems. Every once in a while, someone would do a little too much coke, get a bit overly excited and have to be asked to leave, but most of the time, things were pretty calm.
Me, I didn't do cocaine or any heavy shit. Pot to relax. X when I wanted to party. Tonight, I wanted to party. I'd already had a couple lap dances out in the main room, but my goal was to get a private one.
I popped a pill into my mouth and waited for it to take effect. I turned my attention toward the stage where the newest batch of girls were coming on.
Exotica
only hired the best, which was one of the reasons I enjoyed coming here. These weren't tired old hags who'd been gyrating for years, picking up tricks on the side, or whatever track-marked girls they could find on the streets.
Exotica
's girls were in their early to mid-twenties, or at least looked it. And there was variety. Dark skin, light skin, blondes, brunettes, red-heads. Tall and skinny, short and curvy. Various combinations of body sizes. Innocent. Sultry. Wild. A little something for everyone.
I liked it all. I didn't really have a particular type when it came to women. I enjoyed them all.
And I was particularly enjoying one seriously hot brunette who was dancing at the front of the stage. She was tall, with gloriously long legs I wanted to feel wrapped around me. Her hair was shoulder length, perfect for grabbing during sex. And those tits. Fuck, they were gorgeous. Big and firm – there was no way they were real, but I wanted them in my hands anyway.
“Her name's Angelique.” Another buddy of mine shouted in my ear. Tommy and I had been friends for years, mostly because I had the money and he had the connections. Whatever I was in the mood for, he could get. And none of that knock-off shit. He only worked with premium grade. Worth every penny.
“You asking around?” I didn't take my eyes off her as she swayed, teasing the audience by exposing tanned skin one inch at a time. “Don't want to step on your toes.”
“Naw, go ahead.” Tommy leaned back and stretched his arms out along the back of the couch where we were sitting. “Rumor has it she's a real tiger in the sack.”
I looked over at him and he grinned at me.
“You know me,” he continued. “I prefer the passive ones.”
I rolled my eyes and turned back to Angelique as she came toward the part of the stage closest to me. I never understood Tommy's preference. While I liked to be in charge in the bedroom, I didn't get the appeal of a woman who just laid there and took it. Where was the fun in that? I mean, she didn't have to be kinky or anything, but I at least wanted a response, someone who made it clear she was enjoying herself. I may not have been the kind of guy who'd call a girl the next day, but I prided myself on my reputation that I never left a partner unsatisfied.
I reached into my pants pocket and pulled out a fifty dollar bill. I usually tipped with twenties, but I wanted a private dance and hopefully more. The women who worked at
Exotica
weren't prostitutes, but the club didn't really enforce the 'hands off' rule if the ladies didn't complain. It was basically up to the women what they did and with whom. It wouldn't be the first time I'd headed to the back with one of the dancers.
Angelique's top was off by the time she bent over to let me hold out the folded bill. She glanced at it and then looked at me. I raised an eyebrow in question and she nodded. And that was that. As soon as she walked off the stage at the end of her show, I stood. I was already hard and everything had that nice, fuzzy edge that came with quality X.
“You need anything else?” Tommy asked.
I shook my head. I still had one tablet left and if Angelique didn't want it, I'd take it later. I may have been approaching thirty, but I was far from a 'one and done' kind of guy. I was hoping to get laid at least one more time tonight.
“You looking for a private dance?” Angelique was dressed again, if the skimpy thong and bra she was wearing could be considered dressed. Neither one seemed adequate enough to contain her considerable assets. Which, thank the fuck, was the purpose.
“And anything else you'd be willing to provide.” I smiled at her, watching as she looked me up and down.
“Follow me.” She walked toward the back where the private rooms were located.
Less than five minutes later, my shirt was off, she was naked and my cock was straining against my pants. Her body writhed against mine, her ass pressing down on my pants almost hard enough to hurt.
“Feels like you have a lot to offer,” she practically purred as she leaned back against me.
“Oh, I do.” I slid my arms up her stomach and grabbed onto those gorgeous tits. I pulled on her pierced nipples. “And I can give you something I'll bet few clients ever have.”
“Really?” She looked over her shoulder at me.
“I can make you come harder than you ever have before.” I gave her my cockiest grin.
She stood up and turned toward me. Her feet pushed at mine, nudging my legs apart. “Why do you think I agreed to come back here with you?” She dropped to her knees. “I know who you are, Blayne Westmore. You have quite the reputation. I just hope it's not all talk.”
I gestured toward my crotch. “Why don't you find out?”
“Condom?”
Smart girl. I reached into my wallet and pulled out one of the several I always kept there. I had two more, just in case. I handed it to her and waited.
She opened my pants and I raised my hips enough so that she could pull them and my underwear down enough to free the rock-hard erection I'd been sporting for a while.
“Now that's a nice piece of work,” she said as she tore open the condom wrapper.
“I haven't had any complaints,” I said.
“I'll bet not,” she agreed as she wrapped one hand around the base of my cock, her fingers unable to touch until she'd slid her hand a third of the way up my length.
“Fuckin’ yeah,” I swore as she lowered her head and used her mouth to roll the condom onto my shaft. Damn that was hot! She was hot. Her hand. Her mouth. Her confidence. She didn't waste any time either, using her hand on what she couldn't take into her mouth.
Her hair brushed my thighs as my cock disappeared and reappeared before me. Her tongue worked around my cock and I wondered how it would feel without the latex between us. I never fucked bareback – no way was I going to risk knocking up some gold-digger or catch something that laughed at antibiotics – but I never insisted on a condom for oral. It was always the woman's choice.
Her free hand cupped my balls and I moaned in appreciation of her talent. She really knew what she was doing. When she took me as deep as she could without gagging, I gave her hair a little tug, my if-you-don’t-stop-now-I’m-going-to-come signal. If I was going to fulfill my promise and make her come, I needed her to stop right then or I was going to let her suck until I came. That would be a shame, since coming from oral when wearing a condom was pretty pointless in my opinion.
“Now let's see if you can keep up your end of the bargain,” she said as she climbed onto my lap, facing me this time. She straddled my lap, her pussy hovering over my throbbing cock.
I raised an eyebrow. “No foreplay? That's an awful lot to take.”
She reached between us to firmly grasp my cock. “I'm good.”
I wasn't going to argue, especially when she began to lower herself onto me. I grabbed her hips and she gripped my arms to steady herself. She may be on top, but I was in control. I dropped her down a little more and she moaned. Fuck, she was tight. Not as tight as I'd expected since I hadn't done any prep work, but she was still tight and hot inside. I was halfway in and held her hovering over me, waiting until I snapped my hips up, burying the rest of me inside her. She cried out, her eyelids fluttering. I began to move us together, pulling out of her even as I lifted her, then slamming her down as I moved up, driving into her hard enough to make her swear.
“Wrap those gorgeous legs around me,” I said. I wrapped my arms around her waist and stood. She automatically latched on, arms around my neck, ankles crossing just under my ass.
I didn't do it often, but there was something to be said for fucking standing up. Gravity was a wonderful thing. Her breasts bounced delightfully and her pussy gripped my cock as I drove into her over and over.