He lifted his arm to me.
I rounded my grand dining table set with the finest china, crystal, and silver that I could find.
I took my husband’s arm.
And he escorted me to the kitchen.
We barely crossed over the threshold when Stretch shouted from somewhere not close, not far, “I want Las Delicias!”
My boy, shouting in the house and dissin’ his momma’s cooking.
I glared murder at Marcus.
My husband just burst out laughing.
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A Billionaire Builders Novella
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A Blasphemy Novella
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A Dark Kings Novella
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A Blacktop Cowboys® Novella
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A Midnight Breed Novella
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The Deep End
The Honey Series
By Kristen Ashley
Coming March 7, 2017
Click here to pre-order!
Enter a decadent sensual world where gorgeous alpha males are committed to fulfilling a woman's every desire…
Olivier isn’t sure what he’s gotten himself into when he joins the Honey Club, only that a dark part of him hungers for the lifestyle offered by this exclusive club. Here, no boundary will be left untested…and one's deepest fantasies will become an exquisite reality.
When Amélie invites Olivier to surrender, she gives the alpha submissive what he craves. Soon they both find themselves falling harder than they ever anticipated—but as their connection deepens, the truth about Olivier’s past could destroy everything…
Gripping and seductive, The Deep End is the first book in a sensational new series from bestselling author Kristen Ashley.
* * * *
That done, she walked right to the center of the room.
She turned to him and saw him automatically duck, as if the top of the frame of the door could not always be assumed would be one he wouldn’t run right into.
It was a sight that made him even more alluring.
As he slowly closed the door behind him and moved his eyes to look through the room, taking it in, she watched them get wide.
They dropped to her and his amusement was clear. Not only radiating from his gaze but twitching at his lips.
Another unusual—and unacceptable—reaction.
He thought this was funny.
She hoped like fuck she had the opportunity to prove him wrong.
She crossed her arms on her chest and slightly put out a foot, like she was about to start tapping her toe. In the wrap dress she wore, she knew this opened the overlap, not exposing anything, but the promise for him was impossible to resist.
His attention dropped to her legs.
“In the playrooms,” she began with a snap, and his gaze cut up to hers, “I want eye contact. Unless otherwise instructed, you should not only feel free to look me directly in the eyes, if I’m in your line of sight or I’m not giving you something that your body’s natural reaction would make it difficult to meet my gaze, I require it.”
She stood there staring as he did nothing but dip his chin in acknowledgment.
Cheeky.
Exceptionally cheeky.
Fabulous.
“Unless I’ve asked for their silence or for them to ask for leave to speak, I also require my toys to respond when they’re spoken to. Even if it’s only a ‘yes, Mistress,’ or ‘no, Mistress.’”
His stance relaxed, like he was settling in at the beginning of a show he found vaguely intriguing, and his deep rumble of a voice bounced like boulders through the room. “Yes, Mistress.”
Christ, even his voice declared his challenge.
“Excellent,” she allowed. “Your name?”
“Olivier,” he answered.
French.
Also unusual, at least in this country. And interesting.
She liked it a great deal.
She studied him.
He let her, holding her eyes.
“I’m Mistress Amélie,” she eventually informed him.
“I know. You got a lotta fans out there . . . Mistress.”
The hesitation over him saying “Mistress” gave less of the impression he was testing her and more of the strange impression the word was unpracticed when, with any experienced sub, it would slip right off their tongue.
She made no comment to that.
“There are things we should go over,” she remarked.
“Right,” he stated, his big body adjusting again, now like he was settling in further, intent on giving her the same attention he would a flight attendant who gave the safety address.
That being no more than a courtesy.
She fought the shiver his actions created but allowed the irritation.
“Your safe word is kitten,” she stated.
“Yes, Mistress.”
“You’re open to any kind of play,” she went on.
“Yes, Mistress.”
“It’s important and now’s the time to share should there be anything you wish me to shy away from, Olivier. Especially as this is the first time I’ve played with you.”
Something in his eyes flashed. Blue eyes that were the color of nothing and everything. Not sky. Not sea. Not midnight. A pure blue that only existed in the unchartable depths of a rainbow.
She felt that flash snake up between her thighs, taking residence in her womb.
He wanted this conversation done so she would play with him. He wanted the preliminaries over so they’d get to the good stuff.
He wanted he
r.
She stared into those blue eyes and for a moment felt mesmerized.
For God’s sake, Leigh, she berated herself in an effort to pull it together. Rainbow?
“Olivier,” she prompted.
“I’m open to anything,” he confirmed.
She threw her hand out, indicating the padded vault, the displayed tack . . . the stall.
“Anything?” she pushed.
He held her gaze like a dare. “Anything.” Again his lips twitched. “Mistress.”
She quieted and took him in.
Aryas would not let a voyeur past the front door. Amélie fancied he’d paid secret spy guys like the gentleman in the Bond film who created all the devices that got James out of a bind to set up a force field that would instantly eject anyone who wished to use the Bee’s Honey as a curiosity or to get their rocks off observing and not participating (thus not embracing the lifestyle). Certainly not someone who found the whole thing amusing.
“Am I amusing you?” she whispered, the whisper holding a tremor that was not of fear but of anger.
His face set hard and his two words were so firm, the boulders again came tumbling.
“Absolutely not.”
“Then can you explain your humor?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Sure. You are un-fucking-believably beautiful. You’re also un-fucking-believably hot. But I wouldn’t guess with the acres that make all of you, every inch of it so damned sweet, you’re a walking wet dream, that when you get riled you’re also un-fucking-believably cute. And there is no way in fuck five minutes ago, you told me a gorgeous redhead was gonna lead me to a room and make me her pony, I would be cool with that. But standin’ here with you, I’m totally fuckin’ cool with that.”
It took a good deal, and she expended every bit of effort she needed to accomplish it, but at his final two points, Amélie didn’t blink.
Instead, she decided to finish this part up.
Immediately.
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Table of Contents
Book Description
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Epilogue
Rock Chick Reawakening (Rock Chick #0.5) Page 19
