Hot BDSM/erotic romance set in Hollywood.
Vanessa Lembeck is a "worker bee" in the Hollywood film industry by day - but, as a former dom, by night her thoughts are of dominating men. Trapped in her ultra-busy L.A. life, and she longs to feel love - and power - again. When she walks by her TV set one afternoon and sees the flickering image of musician Michael Jenson, she is instantly attracted to him, like a star-struck schoolgirl. When this sexy apparition unexpectedly appears in her life, his gorgeous body and sweet demeanor lead her - and him - back into the world of bondange and domination.
* * * *
Michael noticed her because she was different. Because she didn't look like she belonged at a music industry party full of con artists, know-it alls, and career whores. Her sweet face caught his attention, but the nasty sexual look in her eyes sealed the deal. He'd never seen that before in a bird; the women he'd known were extreme. They were outright sleazy or feminist frigid, either a quick shag or a long argument. But this combination of shyness and sleaziness was new and irresistible. He didn't know how to approach her. When he winked at her, she smiled and lowered her head coyly, as though she was embarrassed that he had responded to her overture.
If I walk over, will she run away? He wondered. Michael slipped behind a gabbing crowd of girls and eased his way over to her. "Excuse me, love, you're looking very pretty tonight." He stopped himself from touching her bare midriff. It took all his self-restraint.
"Thank you," she said. She stared at his face, then seemed to grasp for words.
"I liked your presentation. I'd never known you could layer tracks like that with a sound program. My name is Vanessa. I work with your friend Kyle at the agency."
"A pleasure to meet you, Vanessa. My name's Michael." She had shoulder length sandy blonde hair that looked totally natural. No tell-tale dark roots anywhere. Her lucid blue eyes sparkled with girlish joy as she shook his hand.
He stared at her waist, and his gaze moved lazily upward to the belly shirt that barely covered her perky breasts. A perfect B cup, he thought, with prominent, sensitive nipples that strained underneath her thin cotton top.
"You don't really look like you belong here." It was the first thought that popped into his head, and he blurted it out. Her smile disappeared. Hurt and embarrassment registered subtly on her face. Usually, he didn't notice such things, but for some reason, he saw it in her eyes and backtracked. "What I meant was ... the other girls-er-women here look harder. You look very sweet."
"Well, I look sweet on the outside, but I'm wild at heart."
He was ready to turn on his heels and pursue some Betty Page lookalike who had just walked past when the phrase caught his ear.
He turned and touched her shoulder. "Umm, that sounds interesting ... care to go into details?"