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Archive for 'BDSM'



Gabbi Black: Amber Eyes (In Their Eyes Book One)
Tuesday, September 8th, 2020

I Have a Secret

I read my first BDSM novel not long after getting my first e-reader.  Annabel Joseph’s novel, Molly’s Lips, changed my life.  I was pulled into the world of dominance and submission through the extreme Master/slave relationship between Molly and Mephisto.  Needless to say, I bought the first book in the series and subsequently the final book in the trilogy.  Then I went on to buy every book Annabel has ever written.  I wasn’t just a fan, I was a superfan.  I even got to meet Annabel in person—a meeting that changed my life.

Meanwhile, I started to do research into the BDSM lifestyle.  I was fascinated, and somehow knew, this was more than just a passing interest.  I wrote my In Their Eyes trilogy before I’d ever heard of Fifty Shades of Grey.  Amber Eyes is the first book in the trilogy, and I don’t think I ever believed the book would be published.

In January 2015, I went to my first munch.  A munch is a vanilla event for kinky people.  You go to a restaurant wearing street clothes, but hang out with people who are curious about or into BDSM.  Although I was nervous, I also was instantly comfortable, sensing I had met my people.  I met a woman who became my protector.  She watched out for me and guided me as I moved further and further into the lifestyle.  Pretty soon, I was attending conferences and dungeons.  Eventually, I got involved in scenes.

Shhh.  My parents don’t know.

Eventually, I revisited the trilogy I’d written, and I realized there were scenes needing to be rewritten.  Personal experience, as well as discussions I’d embarked upon, had opened my eyes.  Now, I knew what it was like to, uh, partake in scenes.  I’ll leave it to your imagination, but there are several scenes in my book that come from personal experience.

After all the changes in the book, and after extensive edits, I found a home for the book at The Wild Rose Press.  I found an editor who understood my vision, and who saw the potential in the story. I owe her for helping me make it a better book.  One I hope readers will enjoy.

So now you know my secret.

Amber Eyes

She needs a firm hand.
He needs a challenge.

School principal Gage Clayton is still grieving the death of his wife and submissive, yet he can’t ignore his Dominant needs. As he enters Club Kink, he’s inexplicably drawn to a newly released sub with an intriguing proposition and the most captivating amber eyes. But she has disturbing baggage and her expectations prove quite a challenge, one that would necessitate a commitment he’s not ready for.

Rielle Reid needs a Dom while she waits for her former Master to return. When she invites a handsome stranger to her home dungeon for a night of play, she’s surprised at his gentle dominance—and her response to it. But in the light of day, his demand for equal footing confounds her. After living four years as a twenty-four/seven slave, she has no concept of how to be anything other than property.

Gage must find a way to master Rielle to free them both from the shackles of the past.

Exclusive Excerpt

She released his hand, rose, and stretched. Leaning down, she placed a kiss to his cheek. “Come to bed soon. You’re looking as tired as I’m feeling.” Then she was gone.

In her wake, however, a wave of desire swept over him.

Come to bed soon, she said. As in, come to our bed soon? There had been no talk of sleeping arrangements, and the room she’d used the previous weekend had been cleaned, sheets laundered, everything put to rights. Sex was out of the question, but sleeping with someone? For the whole night? That held almost as much appeal.

Almost.

Cleanup was simple, and within a few minutes, he headed to the bathroom. The steam from her earlier shower had dissipated, but her scent lingered. He’d yet to put his finger on the exact scent of body spray she used, but he liked trying to guess. He loved the mystery and allure that came with the not knowing.

When he stepped into his bedroom, one of the bedside lamps was on, casting the room in shadows. She was already in bed, covers pulled up. He stripped out of his clothes and slid in beside her, cradling her against him, spoon-style. She extended a hand to switch off the light, and he stopped her.

“I don’t mind sleeping with the light on.”

“With you next to me, I don’t need the light.”

He was moved almost to the point beyond words. “I’ll always protect you. You know that, right?”

Instead of responding, she cuddled closer to him, burrowing herself under the blankets. It wasn’t long before her breath evened out and even less time after that before his did.

Links:
Amazon US:  https://amzn.to/3jf4oJd
Amazon CA:  https://amzn.to/2CasIeT
Banes and Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/amber-eyes-gabbi-black/1137343876
Google Play:  https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Gabbi_Black_Amber_Eyes?id=g-33DwAAQBAJ
KOBO:  https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/amber-eyes-11
iBooks: https://books.apple.com/us/book/amber-eyes/id1526064524?
Publisher:  https://www.thewildrosepress.com/books/amber-eyes
Add it to GoodReads:  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/54920296-amber-eyes

About Gabbi Black

Even though Gabbi Black is a firm believer in happy endings, she makes her characters work for it in every romance she writes, no matter what the genre.  From contemporary to BDSM, they are penned late at night in her home on a beautiful British Columbia mountain surrounded by magnificent trees and every conceivable woodland creature—including bears.  She also writes gay romances as Gabbi Grey.

Personal links:
Website:   http://gabbiblack.com/
Instagram:  https://www.instagram.com/authorgabbiblack/
Facebook (page): https://www.facebook.com/Author-Gabbi-Black-106666354460589/
Pinterest:  https://www.pinterest.ca/authorgabbiblack/boards/
Twitter:  https://twitter.com/GabbiAuthor
Bookbub:  https://www.bookbub.com/profile/2763198834

Vonna Harper: Setting in Erotica
Monday, May 25th, 2020

A science-fiction setting is popular for both writers and readers of erotic romances. The reason is simple, at least it is for me. Give me a fictional world and I can design it to meet any number of needs. The rules, regulations, and social standards we all live with can’t get in my way when I’m writing. I can make them go away.

A domineering man and submissive woman don’t require justification when the lifestyle is standard operating procedure in the world I came up with. I don’t have to justify why a man throws a woman over his knee and repeatedly applies his hand to her ass. Readers of spanking erotica accept that this is how things are done within these pages. A woman doesn’t yell “insanity” if the man in her life treats her like a child. Instead, she gets the norms of the world she finds herself in. Sometimes, it takes a while but that’s part of the fun.

Okay, that’s all well and good. A woman wears a collar and crawls on hands and knees behind the hunk who commands her to because it’s expected and she’s turned on.

But what’s their physical world like?

Setting is vital to me. I can’t start a story until I know what my characters’ world looks like. And here’s a secret: I suck at creating fictional worlds. If you’ve read some Vonna Harper erotic fiction, you may have noticed I don’t put my characters on distant, exotic planets with complex social and political structure to say nothing of blue suns and five-legged household pets. Instead, I rely on corners of the world I know.

Case in point, one of my eroticas is Midnight Touch. Much of this story about a couple with heavy loads of emotional baggage takes place in eastern Oregon. No urban center or exotic city for me because I’ve never lived there and have no desire to. Give me wide open spaces every time—spaces where the few residents live their isolated lives in private.

Sara’s dead ex-husband was a domineering SOB who got away with treating her as he wanted. She seldom saw anyone and didn’t know whether she could trust those she did. She repeatedly tried to escape but never succeeded. I didn’t need to invent a planet because I planted poor Sara in ranching country with more cattle than humans. I know what eastern Oregon’s high desert land looks and smells like. I’ve been there. No need to try to figure out where water and other necessities come from. I’ve seen the wells.

My hero Mace doesn’t belong there, but he has no choice because Sara needs him in ways only he understands. Taking him deep into that isolated setting while he grapples with the forces that brought him there was so much fun. I put that poor man through a lot. Fortunately, he’s up for the challenge.

As for why I chose a country where antelope live, it almost never rains, the nearest grocery store is fifty miles away, and two people struggle to find peace and love there.

Looks like you’ll have to read Midnight Touch to comprehend their dangerous journey, hint, hint. You might also wind up with a darn good idea what panoramic eastern Oregon is like.

Midnight Touch

Obsession. Insanity. Darkness.

The words explain why Mace Seeger has come to see a woman he should have nothing to do with. But when he finds Sara Parmenter’s photograph in her dead husband’s wallet, her haunted eyes touch his soul, distracting him from her naked bound body.

The woman he finds at the isolated ranch is no longer trapped with a cruel and violent man because Ronnie Parmenter is gone, murdered.

He’s no longer a danger.

Sara desperately wants to believe she’s free from her nightmares—and to understand why she’s willing to risk everything with Mace, a man maybe she shouldn’t trust or believe.

A lifetime ago she’d been a sexual woman. The realities of her marriage had stripped those things from her, but being near Mace has reawakened primitive needs. She’s returning to life.

But Ronnie isn’t done.

Get your copy here!

Vonna Harper: Why I Couldn’t (Briefly) Write
Thursday, May 7th, 2020

An interesting thing happened the other day. (No, this has nothing to do with the six hours my son recently spent in the ER but if you’d like to hear the whole crazy hopefully never to be repeated saga, let me know).

I’m nearing the end of my latest hot romance and was barreling ahead getting closer and closer to the climactic scene, when suddenly, I couldn’t get a single word to stick on the monitor. I spent an entire day finding other things to do and was giving myself mental kicks. I tried on an excuse I’ve used a lot of lately, specifically, that an offspring’s health was of primary importance. But he’d recently gotten some good medical news, and I’d felt a surge of creative energy. I wanted to write. I NEEDED to. Riding high on that energy, I wrote for about a week only to hit a wall. Why couldn’t I find a single workable word to come off my fingers? Browbeating myself, I spent the evening staring at the TV.

The next morning while in the shower, something started knocking on my brain. This has happened enough times that I know to pay close attention. I swear my muse lives in the shower. As I ran up the water bill, it came to me. A simple thing really. No need to start the danged book over. Without realizing what I’d done, I’d taken a minor character in a direction that didn’t fit. My narrative about his background was all wrong, nothing my h/h could springboard off. Yes, it was a fascinating story, and one I’d like to explore, but it had nothing to do with helping my h/h get to know themselves and each other.

Fixing said minor character was a simple matter. I needed to jettison his hang-ups and give him new ones that would dovetail with the main storyline.

I deleted a couple of hundred words and replaced them with superior ones my h/h are more than happy to hang their hats on. They can relate to said minor character because they now see themselves in him.

Well duh, Vonna, you’ve been at this writing game to know all the pieces of a story need to fit together. No going off on unrelated tangents regardless of how pretty they appear.

Tomorrow for sure I’ll write THE END.

Then after edits I’ll start the journey again. That’s how this writing gig works.

P.S. I’ve been pimping a couple of spanking stories I self-published, but it’s time for a change. Carnal Days is as dark as I’ve ever gone. I gave it a BDSM label, but that really isn’t what this story about a sex slave training facility is. There’s no HEA. Instead, it documents a new reality for a woman caught in a world not of her making.

A Dark Thriller: Carnal Days

A commanding man hires Carnal Incorporated to provide him with a pleasure-trained submissive woman who will see him as her master.

Two experienced Carnal operatives capture quiet, beautiful Shari Isle. It’s more than a job for the pair of trainers. There’s nothing they’d rather do. The reclusive artist is forced into a world of restraint, lessons, revelations, and unrelenting sexual stimulation.

Shari has no choice except to submit, but it’s far from a nightmare. Day by day she slips deeper into the dark lifestyle she’s been forced into. Far from being horrified by her new reality, she opens herself to the reality of being owned and used. She obeys, not simply because she has no choice, but because the dark side of BDSM is so seductive.

Her time at the training facility ends, and she’s delivered to a dominant man haunted by demons he has no intention of ever sharing. Escape and freedom for Shari? Impossible. Life with a powerful man who sees her body as his playground? Yes.

Carnal Days taps into many women’s fantasies about giving up control. That’s the keyword, fantasy. In no way does Vonna condone such behavior in the real world. She writes escapism for a mature audience.

Get your copy here!

Vonna Harper: Breathing Deep (For Five Lucky Readers–Free Read!)
Friday, April 24th, 2020

When I was last here, (April 6 to be exact), I chatted about my linked erotica titles, His Purchase and His Filly, before turning to what still consumes most of us—Coronavirus or whatever name you call it by. I mentioned that my son’s cancer surgery had been canceled at the last moment. We had no idea when it could be rescheduled. Well, two weeks ago he got The Call and a week ago today he underwent 7 hours of surgery. The operation took place in a major hospital five hours from where we live. Pulling rank, he and his brother insisted that Mom stay home and said brother would take, stay there, and retrieve him. (They actually spouted some nonsense about my ‘advanced’ age putting me in a high-risk category.)

I’m hugely relieved to report that the patient is home and recovering. (We live together.) We went to the local wound center yesterday where the nurse practitioner said the surgeon’s work was the best she’s ever seen. No infection. Wounds from laparoscopic surgery healing. He still has a long road ahead of him, but something happened to me on the way home I want to share.

For the first time since the diagnosis a year ago February, I truly want to write. I need to! I’ve pounded out words to meet contracts and because that’s what I do, but my heart and concentration hadn’t been in it. Now the damnable tumor is gone from the body of one of the two most important people in my life! (Of course, his brother is the other.)

I’d wondered and half-believed the drive, the need to create, that has always been a vital part of me was gone. I’d never get it back. That writing came in such a poor second to the risk to my son’s life that my career longer mattered. But it was there all this time, waiting for my mind and heart to unlock.

I’m more than halfway through my latest story. Diving back into it today will be a celebration. I want to share that celebration with readers. This is what I’ve come up with. If spanking stories are your thing and you’re one of the first five readers to contact me at VonnaWriter@gmail.com and mention you saw this on Deliah’s blog, I’d love to send you a free copy of either His Purchase or His Filly. No strings attached but if you leave reviews on Amazon and are so inclined, that would be wonderful.

To give you an idea what you’d be getting, here are a couple of Amazon links plus cover images.

His Purchase: https://www.amazon.com/His-Purchase-Society-Book-1-ebook/dp/B07FNHM37V/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=His+Purchase+by+Vonna+Harper&qid=1587579243&sr=8-1
His Filly: https://www.amazon.com/His-Filly-Society-Book-2-ebook/dp/B07FNHRK6S/ref=sr_1_1?crid=228PI8UYUL3CT&dchild=1&keywords=his+filly+vonna+harper&qid=1587579211&s=digital-text&sprefix=His+Filly%2Caps%2C220&sr=1-1

Vonna Harper: Her COVID Delay & Introducing THE SOCIETY!
Monday, April 6th, 2020

Vonna Harper isn’t the real me. I created her to hide behind.

Vonna is a sexually liberated writer of many erotica and erotic titles who gives her imagination free rein while the real me writes much tamer stuff. For a long time I tried to keep the two separate, but today it doesn’t matter. Vonna’s creator needs to come out of the shadows and share something deeply personal about coronavirus’s impact on our family.

I suspect everyone who reads this has been touched by the pandemic in some way. Here’s my story. A little over a year ago the adult son I live with was diagnosed with stage three colon cancer. We (yes, both of us) have been through a year plus of hell highlighted by chemo, radiation, heart damage, two infections, three trips to the ER, countless blood tests, and countless sleepless nights.

He was scheduled to have the tumor cut out on March 26. We live over four hours away from the big city cancer center where the surgery would take place. He and his brother, my other son, insisted that Mom not subject her ancient immune system to what we acknowledge is a greater risk of catching the virus. My other son, an educator (what he’s going through is a story of its own), insisted on going with his brother and staying for the approximately five days he’d be hospitalized. I stayed home with the dogs and my thoughts.

The morning of the trip (the day before the surgery) my sons had just gotten on the road when the surgeon called to inform us that the operation was still a go and she was fighting to keep it on the schedule.

Four hours later as they exited the freeway, a second call came. Surgery had been canceled. No rescheduling until the hospital is no longer full of coronavirus patients and dedicated medical professionals.

My sons came home. We wait.

As almost an aside, I promise my erotica is a different experience from what you just read. For proof, I offer a couple of recent titles that include spanking scenes.  His Purchase and His Filly take place in The Society which is made up of Elites and Others. In other words, dominants and submissives.


Alia is an Other, a woman with secrets and few rights in a dark world controlled by The Society.

Kade is an Elite, a wealthy, powerful man who knows how to get the ultimate performance from Alia. Whatever it takes, he will bring his sexy, strong-headed acquisition into line.

When she defies him, Kade repeatedly applies his large hand to her bare bottom until it burns and she’s reduced to tears. Until she can’t fight her erotic reaction.

The next time she defies him, she refuses to explain why. He commands her to strip naked and submit to another harsh spanking. As if that isn’t enough, she has no choice but to let him place a butt plug inside her.

Alia wants to hate Kade for doing these shameful things to her, but his firm handling arouses her in ways she can’t deny or resist.

It will take all her resolve not to admit her deepest secret to this man who owns her.

Get your copy here!

 


Kali has no choice but to work for Boden, a wealthy, powerful Elite. As a vulnerable Other in a dark world of control and controlled, Kali knows her submissive position within the Society. But her vow to do everything she can to protect his valuable racehorses puts her on a collision course with the man who in essence owns her.

Boden decides to discipline the lovely, headstrong young woman via a hard bare bottom spanking. To her shock, she’s deeply aroused. She can’t hide her erotic response which he uses to his advantage.

The lessons continue to take place. Boden doesn’t hesitate to order her to pull down her pants and expose her vulnerable, naked ass. She shudders with every blow then moans when his all-knowing hands slide between her legs. She can’t stop him, can only submit.

Surrender.
Experience.
Want.

Wonder if anything will be left of her.

Get your copy here!

Flashback: Slow Rider (Contest–2 Winners!)
Wednesday, March 11th, 2020

UPDATE: The winners are…Delaine McLafferty and Mary McCoy!
*~*~*

I’m pleased to see that the number of subscribers to my blog is growing! You’re discovering that there’s always something happening here! Whether it’s seeing what other authors are giving you in the way of new stories or playing puzzles or entering to win prizes—there is always something new. Thanks for stopping by and being a part of this romance writer’s community! If you haven’t already subscribed, check out the left-hand column of this page and do it now! ~DD

Flashback: Slow Rider (Contest–2 Winners!)

Slow Rider

When Joe Chavez and fellow sheriff’s deputy, Logan Ross, pull over a speeding motorcycle in the middle of the night, neither is particularly shocked to find Paraiso’s wild child, Sarah Michelson, riding bare-assed naked, nor are they surprised when she invites them to join her in a sexy threesome.

Talking her way out of an embarrassing date with the county judge, who just happens to be her daddy, Sarah promises the officers the ride of their lives. Having the men turn the tables on her and introduce her to some scary D/s play, she learns some things about herself she never suspected. Too bad Joe will never see her as anything but a sexy hell cat in need of taming…

Read an excerpt here!

Contest

Comment on this post to win your choice of one of the books in the Texas Cowboys series! This series is a very sexy set of stories set in a small town in Texas, where cowboys and lawmen are “bound & determined” to win their ladies any way they can!

Here are all the stories in the Texas Cowboy series!

Wearing His Brand The Cowboy and the Widow Soldier Boy

Slow Rider Night Watch
Click on the covers to learn more!

Sexy Standalone Love! (Contest — Three Winners!)
Saturday, February 1st, 2020

UPDATE: The winners are… Delaine McLafferty, Misty Dawn Cecil, and Elaine Swinney!
*~*~*

Besides my series, I have written some very sexy standalone stories, too! I forget about them because I’m so busy trying to keep up with series, but I shouldn’t. In fact, I should go back and look at my workplan, because I deserve to write something completely fun and one-off!

If you haven’t read the books below, now’s your time to peruse, and I’m including an excerpt from one of them so you can sample some of the fun. Several of them are menage stories, so if that’s your thing, be sure to check them out!

Contest

For a chance to win your choice of one of the books below,
tell me your weekend plans!

Hot SEAL, New Orleans Nights Handymen Jane's Wild Weekend
Raw Silk Begging For It Fun with Dick and Jane
Bad, Bad Girlfriend Saddled Ride a Texas Cowboy

Click on any cover to learn more about the story!

Excerpt from Handy Men…

The impulse came like a flash of lightning—hot and searing—all the way to the bone. An idea born of a need she hadn’t felt in a long, long time…and inspired by one red-hot handyman in butt-hugging jeans and a snug T-shirt.

The man fired the militant gleam in her eyes as she brushed bronzing powder across her cheeks and swiped carmine “eat me” red lip stain across her mouth.

She didn’t give herself time to rethink the decision, reaching for the phone before her usual, cautious self reasserted control. No more couch potato cry-ins for her. No more self-imposed exclusion while she figured out what to do with the rest of her life. Today, a new Pamela Dwyer was reaching for the goddamn gusto.

The anger felt good. Especially after the shock she’d received moments ago when she’d surfed the internet for the latest gossip about her ex.

One glance at Andrew’s Facebook page, and Pamela’s confusion over what the hell had happened to her life dried up. He’d blocked her from his page, but his profile picture had been changed from Andrew’s handsome, craggy face to the soft innocence of his newborn son’s.

The picture said it all. And no doubt every one of their friends here in Austin, who’d rallied around her when he’d left, would now pour out their congratulations to him, while privately agreeing he’d done the only thing he could do to be happy.

Tears had stung her eyes, but she’d refused to let them fall. Instead, she’d blinked them away, closed out the screen and glanced through the blinds at her immaculate lawn. The perfect lawn and landscaping to surround the perfectly appointed house she’d won in the divorce settlement.

But back to that lightning strike…

Across the street, a man had stood atop a ladder while he fished leaves from old Mr. Johnson’s gutters. It wasn’t the fact the old man had spent money to hire someone to do odd jobs around his place that caught her attention, although that was plenty unusual all by itself. It was the way the sunlight glinted on the younger man’s hair. Glints of gold she could see from over thirty feet away. And once her attention was snagged by that halo-like glow, her gaze couldn’t help but trail down the long, lean, buff lines of his healthy frame.

From the back, the man was perfection. Then he’d turned to the side, no doubt to say something to Mr. Johnson who hovered at the bottom of the ladder. The old skinflint would supervise the handyman to make sure he got every nickel’s worth of his money. However, not a hint of irritation showed in the handyman’s expression. His smile had been quick—a flash of white teeth against a tanned face.

Pamela had breathed deeply, enjoying the surge of heat flowing through her veins. So much better than the cold, hollow feeling in her womb. Arousal had bloomed, fresh and unexpected, washing over her, lapping away the disappointment. Leaving her…expectant. Feeling younger than her thirty-eight years.
There were times in a woman’s life when she had to grab the bull by the horns or she’d never taste passion again. Pamela decided then and there that her time was now.

Twenty minutes later, the doorbell chimed.

Christ, do I really have the guts? She’d had twenty minutes to get icy cold feet.

She held her hand in front of her face and blew against her palm then sniffed. Mouthwash still works.

Before opening her door, Pamela bent over, shook her head then straightened, giving her straight blonde hair an extra fluff. She pasted on a smile—not too wide or eager—one she’d practiced in front of the bathroom mirror to make sure it reflected just the right amount of casual interest. She didn’t want to scare him away. At least not before she had a chance to practice being a femme fatale.

However, after opening the door, her smile faltered just a bit. Up close, the repairman was more of a rangy lion than a bull, and even more attractive than her secretive glances through the blinds had revealed. Thickly muscled arms and a broad chest stretching a green Handy Men tee filled her vision.

Maybe she should have targeted someone more in her league—and at least fifteen years older. However, when she’d seen him working on the rain gutters of her neighbor’s house and watched the way he moved gracefully up and down the ladder, a plan had begun to form. One she was too invested in to back out of now.

“Your neighbor said you were havin’ trouble with a garbage disposal?”

Good Lord, his voice was deep and sinful. Her greedy glance shot up to meet his, and she noted the crinkles of amusement at the sides of his eyes. Blue eyes with golden coronas around the pupils. Yum.

Realizing her mouth hung open, she snapped her jaw closed. “Uh, yes. Trouble with the disposal. That’s why you’re here.”

It was the truth, so she didn’t stutter over it. However, she didn’t mention she’d thrown a handful of screws into the sink to make sure the old disposal seized. Her plan to lure him into her house was working like a charm. She wished her ex could see her now. Plain Pam, reliable Pam, boring, defective Pam had a few tricks left.

“I’m Jeff McCaffrey,” he said, and held out his hand.

Blowing out a little breath to release her tension, she gave him her hand and shook. “Pamela,” she said quickly.

His palms were callused and large. She slid her hand slowly from his, enjoying the scrape. Even if things didn’t work out, she’d have plenty of sensory details to savor later to go along with the lovely picture he made.

“Um…” He lifted the toolbox with a flex of impressive biceps and raised his eyebrows.

It took a second to register that he needed her to move away from the door. Feeling flustered, she stood back and waved him inside. She closed the door behind him and followed eagerly on his heels into the hallway.

He halted abruptly.

Unable to stop her forward momentum, Pamela held out her hands to brace herself—and cupped his ass.

His head swiveled to glance back at her, a slight, dazed smile curving his mouth.

She paused a second too long before removing them, but it was his own damn fault. His ass was too much temptation for her to resist a little squeeze. “Sorry about that,” she muttered, palms and face burning. Lord, she was thirty-eight, and he had her blushing like a teenager. Her flirting skills were woefully rusty.

He cleared his throat and pointed toward the door on the left. “The kitchen?”

“Yeah,” she said, sounding a little winded, but her fingers tingled and her skin felt on fire. She hadn’t wanted to come on to the younger man like a cougar in heat, but he was fine-fine-fine.

He swung open the door and walked to the counter, where he set his toolbox beside the sink. “What sort of noises was it makin’?”

“Crunchy?”

“Crunchy?” His lips twitched.

She shrugged. He was the “Mr. Fix-It”. He’d figure out soon enough what the problem was. Maybe he’d think the screws in the disposal had gotten there by accident.

He reached beneath the cabinet next to the sink and flipped the switch.

Metallic grating made her wince. The poor thing ground worse than her ex’s teeth.

Without looking back, he said, “Don’t touch the switch. I don’t have my tongs, so I’m gonna stick my hand down there to see what’s happenin’.”

In his hand went, and he turned slightly to the side, his gaze meeting hers while a frown drew his honey-brown brows together. When he pulled free, he held a screw. “Wonder how that happened?” he drawled.

She grinned brightly. “Serendipity?”

“Wha—?”

So maybe not a brain surgeon, or even much of a reader, but the calculated stare he returned told her he wasn’t stupid. He pulled out another and laid it on the countertop, and then another. “Somethin’ you wanna tell me, Pamela?”