by Helena Maeve
A Total-E-Bound Publication
www.total-e-bound.com
A Touch of Spice
ISBN # 978-1-78184-433-5
©Copyright Helena Maeve 2013
Cover Art by Oliver Bennett ©Copyright August 2013
Edited by Sue Meadows
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2013 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.
Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Total-e-melting and a sexometer of 2.
This story contains 100 pages, additionally there is also a free excerpt at the end of the book containing 7 pages.
A TOUCH OF SPICE
Helena Maeve
A young woman orchestrates a threesome for her boyfriend’s birthday only to fall in love for a second time.
Jackie and Marten have been together for six years and things are getting a little stale, but Marten’s birthday should give Jackie the perfect opportunity to jazz things up a little in the bedroom.
Adult film star Tony Hancock’s role is simple enough—show up, be willing to please and readily satisfy Marten’s bisexual fantasies for the one-night adventure of a lifetime. Jackie couldn’t be more taken with their choice of partner. Tony is a passionate lover and the sexual chemistry he has with the pair is undeniable, but he is not as simple and straightforward as Jackie first thought.
When a past affair resurfaces, will Tony’s secrets unravel the burgeoning romance or will Jackie and Marten confess their feelings in time to convince Tony that he has a place beside them?
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Formica: Formica Group
Jell-O: Kraft Foods Group, Inc.
Dynasty: American Broadcasting Company
Weight Watchers: Weight Watchers Online
Star Trek: CBS Broadcasting, Inc.
Renault: Renault S.A.
Facebook: Facebook Inc.
Calvin Klein: Calvin Klein Trademark Trust
Converse: Nike, Inc.
Real Housewives: NBC Universal
Addams Family: Metro-Golden-Mayer Television
Coke: The Coca Cola Company
James Bond: Ian Fleming
Martini: Martini & Rossi
Chapter One
Jackie drummed her fingertips against the chipped Formica table. She was determined not to check her watch again—the hands only seemed to move slower if she did and really, she had no business being impatient. She’d known she would be a little early the moment she’d left work. Poor impulse control was to blame—that and a tendency to second-guess her every move for fear of the consequences. Nerves had plagued her all day. It was why she had made her excuses an hour before the end of schedule and pleaded a migraine to get out of carpooling with Clara, the PA down the hall who dropped her off now and again. It wouldn’t be the case tonight.
A cab had ferried her over to the coffee shop in all anonymity about a good half-hour before Jackie was scheduled to meet anyone. At first it had seemed like a good idea. The place was mostly empty, with students still in class and worker bees like herself still stuck inside their offices. She’d figured that would make it easier to pick Tony out of the masses when he finally made it there. Then patrons began filing in, chased off the streets by the smattering of bitterly cold rain dripping down in a thin sheet over Rotterdam.
Twenty minutes later, the café was packed, countless umbrellas crowding the far corner of the shop and orders being called out every thirty seconds or so by harried baristas. Jackie leaned her head against the glass. It did nothing to cool her nerves.
“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” The voice was definitely male and definitely urbane. It also spoke Dutch with a strong accent—not unusual considering that this was a pretty touristy area. Jackie herself had no room to criticise. As an expat, she was here at the mercy of the locals who often caught onto her American brogue and switched to speaking her own language out of kindness.
She glanced up. “Yes. I mean, not yet. But it will be,” Jackie said, grimacing. “I’m waiting for someone.”
“Let me guess,” the man said, in English. He bent a little at the waist as he added in a stage whisper, “Your man is a porn star.”
Jackie’s jaw didn’t drop, but it was a close call. “You’re Tony Marling? Oh, thank God.”
“I know, I know… I look different with my clothes on!” The man laughed gaily, though he sounded a little strained. “Hang on, I’m going to grab something to drink and I’ll be right with you.”
He did look different in person, but Jackie would have blamed the discrepancy on the fact that he’d grown a beard since the last recording on his website rather than the crisp polo shirt and aviator jacket. She flushed a little as he returned, armed with a steaming cup of boiled water and a teabag propped tellingly against the side.
“You’ll forgive me for being disgustingly British, won’t you?” Tony asked. “I converted to Rooibos, but I still can’t stomach coffee.” He was a good-looking man, there was no doubt about that. His blue eyes crinkled when he smiled and his lashes fanned long over his cheeks as he perched at the table. But Jackie had contacted him expecting some kind of stylised sex god. This version of Tony Marling was almost, well, human.
“I’m a caffeine addict,” she heard herself mumble. “It’s genetic. Turns out that if your ancestors go and drown all the British tea in a harbour about a hundred years ago, you get to wake up at three in the morning craving a latte…”
Tony chuckled as he dunked his teabag into the cup. His gestures were very fluid, almost absentminded. There was none of that tense, tight-laced struggle of some of the videos Jackie had seen of him on the Internet.
“So, uh… How did you recognise me?”
“I’m sorry?” Tony glanced up from the precious alchemy of preparing his tea. “Oh, I looked for the girl wishing she hadn’t been able to make our rendezvous.” His broad grin gave him away. So did his laugh. “You’re hogging a table and you’re the only one here alone and dry,” he explained. “It was a gamble.”
“Pretty big risk, opening with ‘I’m a porn star’,” Jackie quipped, sure that her cheeks were aflame by now. “A girl might call that harassment…”
“A girl might,” Tony agreed, “but I was only inferring that about her date. Plus, there’s nothing wrong with being a porn star. I’m living proof.”
The easy way he said it had Jackie feeling like a complete and total prude. She liked to think she was adventurous in her sex life and non-judgemental when it came to other people’s bedrooms. Still, making an appointment with a guy who recorded himself having hard-core kinky sex was a far cry from paying lip service to the all-inclus
ive mantra she’d been spewing since college—particularly since she wasn’t meeting with Tony for the hell of it. She had ulterior motives.
“I figured,” Tony said when she had told him as much. The corner of his lips twitched up. “Thank you for choosing a public place, by the way. I probably wouldn’t have agreed to meet you on a deserted underpass, even if it meant more privacy.” He hitched up one shoulder. “No offence.”
None was taken. Jackie was actually a little relieved to hear his rationale. She wasn’t the only one out of her depth here. Good to know. “I don’t really know how to start,” she confessed. “It’s my boyfriend—”
“You want him killed?” Tony interjected, completely deadpan.
Jackie’s eyes widened. “What?” A couple of heads turned at the outburst, but there was just enough noise in the café that no one paid them much attention. “No! God, no, that’s not—”
Tony reached across the table to pat her hand, a friendly, harmless gesture. “Relax, I’m kidding. You’re really tense, you know that? I’m regretting not getting us a shot of something stronger than coffee. Besides,” he added, winking, “I’m only a contract killer on Tuesdays.”
It was only going to be harder to spit out her point if he kept making jokes, so Jackie gathered her courage with both hands and blurted out, “My boyfriend’s birthday’s coming up and I want to surprise him with a threesome.”
“Come again? Slowly?”
A shuddering breath expired from her lungs. “I want to surprise my boyfriend,” Jackie said, “by setting up a threesome. He’s talked about it before and I know he likes the idea, so…” She shrugged her shoulders. “I want to do something special for him. It’s his thirtieth.”
“You hinted at something like that in your email,” Tony recalled. “I just thought you were testing the waters before you tried to save me from my sins.” He waved a hand, as if that could be enough to dispel her surprise. “That happens sometimes, don’t worry about it. I’m usually flattered when people contact me, whatever the reason—unless it’s spambots sending me those ridiculous penis enlargement emails. Those actually offend me.”
“Right,” Jackie echoed, not entirely sure what to make of his answer. It wasn’t a categorical no and Tony hadn’t thrown his tea in her face—then again, maybe that was a thing that only happened in movies—but he didn’t look like he was chomping at the bit to take her up on the offer.
She watched him pluck the teabag out of his cup and set it aside, each painstaking movement suddenly a drag of claws on her fraying nerves.
“I’m a little socially awkward,” Tony said, swallowing. “Don’t let that put you off.”
“It’s not.”
“And I’m also not an escort, so—”
“Oh, God,” Jackie groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I didn’t mean to imply that you were. I’m so sorry—”
Tony grasped one of her wrists, his hold very gentle. “Hey, no. I was just going to say I don’t want you to, you know, pay me.” He tried to peer at her through her fingers—a hard thing to do when she was so intent on hiding.
Eventually Jackie relented, her face burning with embarrassment and the certitude that sooner or later she was going to put her foot into her mouth once again. She should have just tried to pick up a guy at the club, like normal people did, only she hadn’t felt safe and she’d been afraid that Marten would take it the wrong way—so she had opted for email instead, and now Tony sat across from her, smiling behind his steaming cup.
“You okay?” he asked, withdrawing to his side of the table. “Let’s try this again, yeah? Your boyfriend wants to see you with another bloke and you, being lovely and totally smitten, thought to make that fantasy come true on his birthday. What date are we talking about here? I have to check my calendar…”
Jackie bit her lip. “This Saturday?”
“Oh, that’s all right. I’m available Saturday,” Tony announced brightly. “How did you want to do it? I should warn you, I’m not jumping out of any birthday cakes.” He tapped his chest with an open palm, adding, “I’m claustrophobic.”
“I thought you could just…be in the bedroom with me when he got home.” In her head, the tableau drew itself in far sultrier tones than anything that came out of her mouth. “He likes it a little rough. Do you mind that?”
Tony shook his head. “You’ve seen my films, haven’t you? I’m good with anything short of actual bodily harm. But we can talk limits in a moment. I’m curious to hear what you want to have happen, love. Sure, it’s your boy’s birthday, but you’ll be with another man. Does that make you uncomfortable at all?”
It did, but mostly it was making her feel excited. Just the thought of Marten watching as she took another man’s cock inside her had her squirming a little in her seat. She told Tony that she’d be fine.
“And he’s okay with that, too?”
Jackie arched a brow.
He went on, “Some lads like the idea of seeing their wives or girlfriends with someone else, but come the actual screwing and they get antsy. Like roosters pecking at the competition, if you know what I mean.” His shoulders sagged. “What I’m saying is this—you’d have a lousy time of it if it turned out your boy’s the sort to get jealous easily.”
“I-I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Jackie stammered, sure she was blushing all the way up to her ears.
“Why’s that?”
She looked up to find that Tony was peering at her over his cup, steam rising in soft, fragrant eddies that faded into the cacophony of patrons chattering indifferently around them..
“Because my boyfriend is bisexual.” She had never said that to anyone before—not to her best friend or her sister, not to her gynaecologist, with whom she discussed her sex life at least once a year.
“Oh,” Tony drawled. “Okay. I can work with that.” If he was taken aback, then he did a brilliant job of hiding it—a consummate actor, whether or not there was a camera waiting to catch the flicker of tension across his face.
He sipped his tea as Jackie told him the rest. She had been meaning to try something like this for a while. “Couldn‘t really find anyone among our friends I felt comfortable enough with to invite into bed, I guess. As for approaching a complete stranger… I worry it might get me laughed at. Or…worse.” She arched her brows. “And then there‘s that niggling fear that if I pick the wrong partner, I‘ll have ruined a good relationship.”
Even if Marten wasn’t the jealous type, he himself had only brought up the subject when they were intimate together, often in the heat of the moment. He said it was just a fantasy, but Jackie wondered if he wasn’t simply denying himself for her sake.
“Then how about we do this?” Tony countered, gazing at her through his lashes. “You take him out for dinner on Saturday and I can be in the neighbourhood—say, around ten?——when you’re done. If he’s up for it, you give me a call and I’ll come up. If he’s not sure or if you’ve changed your mind, then… No hard feelings.”
“Really?”
Tony shrugged. “Yeah. I saw the pic you’ve got in your email signature. You look like a nice couple. I don’t want to be the guy who breaks you up.”
It was that escape route that convinced Jackie. “Okay.” They exchanged phone numbers and Jackie texted him her address, with Tony solemnly promising he wouldn’t stalk her if she didn’t call, and parted ways about an hour later. The drizzling rain had stopped by the time Jackie got off the bus just outside her apartment building. She had to admit she felt a little better after talking to Tony. He seemed decent, like the kind of guy she could stand to be friends with, even if this plan of theirs fell through. She found herself hoping that the feeling was mutual as she roused her smartphone and typed him a quick message.
Thx for meeting with me. Have a GR8 evening. Jackie.
“You sound way too much like a smitten teenager,” she told herself, backspacing until everything was deleted. She went with a more conservative—
; Thank you for the talk & wish you a great evening
Signed with her full name rather than the careless, overly friendly nickname.
A reply chirped from her cell just as she was about to jump into the shower.
My pleasure, lovely, Enjoy the birthday boy.
It was signed Anthony, like the Roman general, and Jackie fancied she could see him grinning as he had typed it out.
Chapter Two
By the time Marten got home from work, she had already run through every possible, contrived reason to answer Tony’s last message. Every time she thought she had a viable excuse she faltered, afraid that she might come across as some crazy person. She didn’t want to harass him, but the apartment was too quiet and her patience too slight to wait for the weekend. She thought, instead, of how Saturday might turn out—if he’d go down on Marten while she watched. If that was something Marten wanted her to see. Heat flared inside her at the thought, a steady flame fanned by the vagaries of her vivid imagination.
She started when Marten’s key turned in the door. “Hi, honey, I’m—” He didn’t get to finish his droll little greeting. He insisted on playing up the Cary Grant angle every chance he got—and his dapper, sleek looks didn’t hurt the attempt, but tonight Jackie was quicker. His lips were dry and chapped with the cold under hers, his suit already rumpled from a day at the office. Being backed up against the door like this was doing the fine wool jacket no favours, but Jackie didn’t care. If there was a complaint to be made, then it was lost, submerged under the force of her kiss. Marten moaned when her body pressed against his and circled her waist with his broad hands.
