Werebeasties

by Lizzie Lynn Lee

  A Total-E-Bound Publication

  www.total-e-bound.com

  Werebeasties

  ISBN # 978-0-85715-895-6

  ©Copyright Lizzie Lynn Lee 2012

  Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright February 2012

  Edited by Penny Chapman

  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 2012 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-burning and a sexometer of 2.

  This story contains 72 pages, additionally there is also a free excerpt at the end of the book containing 7 pages.

  WEREBEASTIES

  Lizzie Lynn Lee

  Samantha Knight is on the road to ruin. Recently divorced, facing foreclosure, and strapped for cash, she is forced to take drastic measures to put her life back on track. A group of wealthy businessmen offer her an exorbitant amount of money if she is willing to be their bedmate for a month.

  Samantha isn’t big on sex. But the job shouldn’t be that complicated, right? After all, sex is sex and she’s quite good at faking it. Everything changes when she meets her new employers.

  Adam Hauser, a tall, dark, and devastatingly handsome banker makes her want to fan herself each time he is within her reach.

  Calvin Neutzel, a young lawyer with a Mr Olympia body causes her to ache in all the bad places.

  And then there’s David Strauss, the tall CEO with the face of an angel, who can really make her panties wet with just one look. Samantha thinks either the job is starting to sound fun or these men are just too good to be true.

  The real surprise is when they come to her bed at night. Furry, sinuous big cats with insanely raucous appetites for sex are eager to play…

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Walgreens: Charles R. Walgreen

  Jell-O: Kraft Foods

  Kmart: Sears Holding Corporation

  Chobits: Clamp

  Salon Blanc de Blancs: Champagne Salon

  Ziploc: S. C. Johnson & Son

  James Bond: Danjaq, LLC

  Google: Google, Inc

  Plymouth Sedan: Chrysler Corporation

  Peter Luger: Peter Luger

  Chapter One

  Her nerves frayed from their seams the moment the taxi exited the driveway of the mansion, leaving her alone at the bottom of the steps. Samantha Knight swallowed hard, nervously trying to tame the wild gallops of her heart. The mansion looked forbiddingly opulent, like the French château she had seen in the travel books about Europe. Grand and dark. Screaming old money. Dark ivy vines climbed the walls, giving the illusion this place had been around for more than a few decades. But everything seemed to be in pristine condition. There were multi-car garages on the side. A tennis court. An Olympic-size swimming pool. Separated guesthouse. Gated entrance.

  Her gaze drifted upwards.

  The mansion even had its own freaking turrets. Sam could have imagined Rapunzel looking down from one of the arched windows, her long, golden braid cascading between the climbing roses, waiting for her knight in shining armour to save her.

  She shook off her wild imagination.

  Here we go.

  Sam took a deep breath and hoisted her luggage up the three dozen steps to the magnificent entrance. She stopped and searched for a doorbell. She didn’t find one. Instead, she found a sophisticated intercom box mounted on the wall. A security camera perched strategically above it was undoubtedly recording her every move. Sam blinked.

  Great. Big mansion. Tight security. Playground for the rich.

  The butterflies in her stomach wouldn’t go away, no matter how hard she tried to calm down. This mansion would be her home for the next four weeks, where she would earn her money as a plaything for some rich businessmen.

  Taking a deep breath, she pushed the intercom button. A mellifluous, cultured man’s voice with a James Bond type of accent seeped from the black rectangular box.

  “May I help you?”

  “My name is Samantha Knight. I believe Mr Hauser is expecting me.”

  “He is. He’ll be with you in a moment, Ms Knight.”

  She became more nervous after talking to whoever that man was. Adam Hauser was expecting her. They were expecting her. Her new employers. She had no idea what they looked like, since the arrangement had been made by their representative, a woman named Mathilda Reyes. Reyes was the one who had interviewed her in her Chicago office. The whole hiring process was more complicated than applying for a Federal job. She’d even had to go through a thorough physical exam by Reyes’ appointed ob-gyn doctor before she could officially get the gig.

  Actually, Sam was surprised she’d got the job in the first place. Misfortune always came in threes. She had been laid off from the food-processing factory she’d worked in since she’d graduated from high school. And then the divorce. Then, the bank had hit her with the foreclosure notice. She had been scrambling for a new job when she’d spotted an ad in the local newspaper. At first, she’d thought it was nothing but a joke. In this time and age, who would be desperate enough to want to pay someone to sleep with them for a hundred grand? That was a lot of freaking money. Feeling that she had nothing to lose, Sam had called the number on the advertisement. Reyes had answered her. The call had turned into an invitation for interview—well, several interviews—conducted in Reyes’ luxurious downtown office. It had ended up with her being hired. She’d signed a bunch of papers, mostly contracts and waivers, and at the weekend, Reyes had sent a taxi to collect her. Sam’d had no idea the taxi would take her to Aspen, Colorado.

  Seconds passed by. Her heart pounded fast.

  Sam couldn’t figure out why Reyes had decided to hire her. Sam had been told that Reyes’ bosses were pleased with her appearance. They had taken pictures and videos during the interviews. If Reyes’ bosses were really wealthy businessmen like they claimed, why didn’t they just hire a professional call girl to do the job? Sam thought beauty wasn’t her best attribute. Maybe she had been pretty in her teens. Slender body. Smooth skin. Glossy hair. But seven years of marriage to Jared Knight had changed all of that. She’d put on a few pounds and had neglected her looks. Beauty cost money and she didn’t have any to spare. Jared had been nothing but a cheating bastard who was allergic to hard labour, leaving her to shoulder the entire financial burden. During her ride to Colorado, she had been musing that perhaps these hotshots wanted somebody plain and inexperienced just for the sake of fun. Maybe they were bored of the tall, pretty blondes they could easily get with their wealth and power. Maybe they wanted to try the lower-class-housewife type.

  Maybe.

  Either way, Sam would get her money. She hadn�
��t exactly been thrilled with her new gig, but she was desperate. She needed the money that her jackass ex-husband had demanded as settlement for their divorce. She had also missed several mortgage payments because she and Jared had met with quite a few unexpected expenses the past few months. The bank had sent her foreclosure papers. A hundred thousand would save her neck from this sticky situation. She would be able to pay Jared’s settlement, catch up with her payments, and still have some money left over to live off for a while. She couldn’t lose the house. It was the house she’d grown up in. Her parents had given it to her when they’d moved to Florida to retire. It was paid for, as her late father was quite a stickler about being indebted to the bank. When she and Jared had faced financial difficulty, Jared had forced her to take out a second mortgage. Luckily she’d refused. Still, the bank wanted to seize the house. She couldn’t let that happen.

  This job was the only way out of the sinkhole she was trapped in.

  The door opened and an older gentleman dressed in an impeccably neat black suit emerged. He appeared to be in his sixties, with a kind face and receding hairline. Slender as a knife. Alarmingly pale skin.

  “Mr Hauser?” Sam was ready to shake his hand. “I’m Samantha Knight.”

  “Oh, dear. I’m afraid you’re mistaken, young miss. My name is Nigel Burford. I’m Mr Hauser’s butler.”

  “Oh.”

  He stepped aside and gave her a slight bow. “Do please come in. Let me show you to your room.”

  “Okay,” Sam said breathlessly. Butler. They got a butler. “Thank you.”

  Nigel’s gaze cut to her luggage. “Let me help you with that.” He snatched the heavy bag with the agility of a man half his age. The butler was stronger than he looked.

  “Thank you again.”

  “My pleasure. Please, follow me.”

  Dual grand staircases leading to the second floor greeted her sight. An enormous crystal chandelier hung between the staircases, illuminating a round, glass table that sported a huge vase filled with long-stemmed roses. A gold and caramel colour-theme splashed throughout the interiors, from the pristine marble floor to the padded wall-covering, shades, and draperies. Sam mouthed ‘whoa’. She had never been privileged to go inside a rich man’s house before.

  Nigel paused. “Your room is on the second floor, Ms Knight.”

  “Okay. Thank you.” That was the third time she’d thanked him in less than five minutes. Sam hoped Nigel wouldn’t think she was ditzy white trash with a limited vocabulary. She didn’t know what to chitchat about with somebody she’d just met. She wasn’t a social butterfly. Besides, butlers weren’t usually chatty, were they? They were serious, impassive, tight-assed people like the ones she had seen on TV.

  Sam followed Nigel. As soon as they reached the second floor, the butler led her to the left, into a long hallway. Her room was the third door.

  Her jaw dropped when she saw her accommodation. Tall ceilings. Arched windows. More cream-coloured marble dominating the floor and walls. Perched in the middle of the room was a four-poster bed with crisp, white linen bedding. The furniture in her room matched the mansion’s colour scheme. Light-grained woods carved in intricate details with gold inlay. Luxuriously upholstered sofa and benches. More antique knick-knacks graced the armoire and tables. Sam made a mental note not to touch anything. If she broke something in this place, she was sure as hell she wouldn’t be able to pay for it.

  Nigel carefully put her bags at the foot of the bed. “Mr Hauser will be with you momentarily.”

  “Thank you, Mr Burford.”

  “Please, call me Nigel.” He bowed his head and silently withdrew from the room with the grace of a swan.

  The door was closed, leaving Sam free to gawk.

  She inspected the adjoining rooms, which turned out to be a bathroom and a walk-in closet. The bathroom was bigger than her home in Indiana and a thousand times nicer. It had a deep, claw-footed tub—its faucet glimmered as if it was made from solid gold. Sam poked around with the curiosity of a fickle cat. The walk-in closet was spacious and looked like one of the high-end designer boutique showrooms she’d seen in downtown Chicago. The walls were lined with empty shelves for shoes and rows of unused hangers. A vanity with three-fold mirrors sat elegantly against one wall. The vanity top was carved from the same pristine marble that was the signature of this mansion, and the bench in front of it was upholstered in a rich, gold fleur-de-lis print fabric.

  “Do you find everything satisfactory?” A voice startled her from her gawking.

  Sam jumped.

  She swivelled at the closet door and blushed. A handsome man dressed in a black designer suit leaned against the doorframe. He was tall. Six-foot-nine or ten or something. He was athletically fit with a broad chest, powerful shoulders, slim waist, and long legs. His golden-coppery hair was cut very short, military style. The man seemed to be in his early thirties. His eyes were an unusual shade of amber and his smile was dazzling.

  “It’s amazing.” Sam quickly recovered and stuck out her hand. “Hello. I’m Samantha Knight.”

  The man shook her hand, but didn’t let her go. “I’m Adam Hauser. Nice to finally meet you.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “Y-you’re Adam Hauser?”

  “In the flesh. Were you expecting somebody else?”

  Her cheeks flushed instantly. She hadn’t expected one of her employers to be this…young and stunning. She thought she would be entertaining a bunch of middle-aged corporate fat cats. Wasn’t it that kind of man who usually could afford this lavish lifestyle? “No, sir. I just had no idea what you looked like.”

  Adam let go of her hand and quirked his lips into a faint smile. “What did you expect I’d look like?”

  Sam paused to think. She decided to be honest. Brown nosing wasn’t her forte. “Fat. Balding. Twice my age.”

  A gleam of amusement twinkled in his eyes. “Are you disappointed?”

  She cringed. Is he kidding me? “No, sir,” she answered in a small voice.

  His faint smile turned into a leer. Adam crooked a finger in her direction, motioning her to follow. “Have a seat. I want to you give you a quick rundown.”

  “Sir.”

  Her new boss walked to a wingback chair near the fireplace. The way he moved was sinuous and predatory. It reminded her of big cats in their natural habitat. Like lions that stalked their prey. Dominant and deadly. Adam settled in gracefully. He grabbed a folder from the side table and started to flip through the pages. The contracts Reyes had had her sign were longer than the Congress’ annual budget bills.

  Adam peered from the top of the folder. “Have a seat, Ms Knight.”

  Sam decided to sit in a chair next to him. The room had a small sitting area across from the bed. The chair was plush and comfy, making her want to sink in and take a snooze. She couldn’t do that. Sam straightened her posture, hoping she’d appear more sophisticated than she really was.

  His gaze cut to her. “We hired you here for nothing but to fulfil our pleasure. Do you understand the extent of your employment?”

  Sam gulped hard and nodded.

  “Please state yes or no.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “That means you can’t refuse any request we have in mind.”

  “I understand, sir. Yes, sir.”

  “Do you?” Adam leaned forward. The twinkles in his eyes burned bright. “If I wake you up at three in the morning to bunny fuck you, you have to be willing and enthusiastic.”

  Heat seared her face. She understood what she was going into without needing it to be put out so bluntly. “I understand, sir. Ms Reyes explained each clause of the contract very thoroughly.”

  Adam looked pleased. “Are you an anal virgin?”

  The heat slammed back tenfold. “I…uh yes, sir. Sorry, I’m inexperienced in that area.” Jared was the king of vanilla and his laziness included sex. She’d had to do all the work and the kinkiest thing she had ever tried was a reverse cowgirl. She hadn’t cared for that
either. “But I’m a fast learner, sir,” Sam added hurriedly, hoping her haplessness in sex wouldn’t make her employer change his mind.

  Somehow, Adam didn’t seem disappointed. He flipped through more pages. “Why did you divorce your husband?”

  The question came unexpectedly. Jared had been her high school sweetheart. She and Jared had married right after they’d graduated. They’d been young and very much in love. Love alone didn’t warrant a good life. A year had passed when she’d finally seen Jared for who he was—a lazy, good-for-nothing bastard. While she wallowed elbow-deep in cleaning up animal carcasses in the factory, Jared sat in front of the TV and drank beer. Laziness alone she could tolerate. After all, he was her husband and they had taken a vow, for better or for worse. But then Jared had started to cheat on her and hadn’t bothered being secretive. She’d asked for a divorce. Jared had refused. He’d said he wouldn’t let her go, no matter what.

  At first, she’d thought Jared’s reluctance for divorce was because deep down, he loved her. It had taken her six more years to realise that Jared didn’t want a divorce because he didn’t want to lose his lifestyle. If they split up, he would’ve had no one to support his habits. So when Sam hit him with the divorce papers, Jared had gone to an expensive divorce lawyer and hit her back with a ridiculous divorce settlement. Her own lawyer had lost in front of the judge. She had to pay Jared a sizeable sum or she’d lose everything.

  Sam cleared her throat. “He’s an ass, sir. And I finally realised that and did what I should have done a long time ago.”

  Adam flooded her with a pitiful stare.

  She didn’t know why, but a roll of anger quickened past her. She didn’t need pity. She could take care of herself, thank you very much. All she needed to do was lie on her back and spread her legs for Adam and his colleagues for a month and she’d be home with that hundred grand and could settle all of her problems.