Platinum
Book 2 Facets of Passion
Jeffe Kennedy
Jeffe Kennedy
Althea Grant is doing fine. Sure, her Charleston gallery is suffering from the bad economy, and her artistic aspirations have gone nowhere. But she’s happy enough. When rugged metal sculptor Steel rides up on his motorcycle looking to rent studio space, his infusion of cash is more than welcome. But his art is raw, visceral, sexual—and completely inappropriate for her pastel world of watercolor landscapes.
Steel, fascinated by Althea’s rare albino coloring, sees in her the key to his next piece: a metal satyr that can be used for bondage games. Moving into her gallery basement is the first step; seducing the coolly polite lady into modeling for him is the second.
As Steel peels away her careful manners and tasteful outfits, Althea begins to realize her life isn’t just fine at all—it’s as pale and washed-out as the watercolor paintings she’s failing to sell. Can she transform her life and accept her most secret desires?
Excerpt:
Excerpt:
In
the morning, Althea dressed carefully in a pretty pale lemon chiffon dress with
tiny pearl buttons all down the front. She curled her hair and left it down,
thinking it complemented the neckline of the gown better and looked nice with
the wide-brimmed matching hat. She looked forward to seeing Brandon for a
lovely Sunday outing.
Never mind that
she’d spent a nearly feverish night thinking of Steel’s lurid promises. She had
no intention of breaking up with Brandon. Steel could hang himself from his own
sculpture for all she cared.
She clipped
through the gallery as a quick check that all was well, then let herself out
through the front and rearmed the alarm. Brandon hadn’t arrived yet, so she
busied herself with deadheading the impatiens and lobelia in the window boxes.
“Don’t you look
a picture.” Steel leaned against the wall nearby, decked out in his motorcycle
leathers. He wore mirrored sunglasses, so she couldn’t see his eyes, but his
intrusive gaze consumed her nevertheless.
“What are you doing out here?”
“Taking in the
sun, seeing the sights.” He grinned at her. “Gallery’s closed today, I see.
Wanna go for a ride on my bike? You’d have to change, though—that skirt would
be up over your head in no time. Not that I would mind. In fact the image of
you offers some interesting—”
“I have a date,” she snapped.
He raised his eyebrows. “Let me
guess—Sunday brunch. How…sweet.”
“I happen to like brunch.”
“And did you like staying home
alone on Saturday night?”
“I had a long day, working,” she emphasized. “I preferred
some time to unwind.”
He chuckled at
that. “Princess, I have no doubt that you could use some unwinding, but I could
suggest a dozen more interesting ways to do it. For example, we could start
with—”
“I’m not
interested.” She cut him off again and turned back to picking off the dried and
wilted blossoms.
“You don’t act
like a woman who’s not interested.”
“I’ve decided
to stick with Brandon. I’m declining your…offer. Not that I seriously
considered it. At all.”
“Brandon?” He
drew the name out, baaing on the “a” sound like a sheep.
“Oh stop. It’s
a perfectly fine name.”
“You think so?
Brandon? Sounds like a Momma’s boy to me.”
“Not every guy
has a noun for a name.”
“Not unless
he’s bold and manly like me.” He winked and she laughed before she caught herself,
but with her face still turned down to the window box, he might not have heard.
“I notice you never say my name.”
“Sure I do.
Steel refinery. Stainless steel silverware. Calphalon steel pans. I say it all
the time.”
“I want to hear
you gasping it out while I’m riding you,” he spoke from just behind her, in a
quiet, intense voice.
She whirled
around and had to take a step back, he was so close. “I don’t want you talking
to me that way.”
“I think you
like it.”
“I don’t.” But
her voice faltered.
“I think
Brandon treats you like a lady. I bet, when he bothers to pay attention to you,
that he ‘makes love’ to you. All clean and polite-like. Sunday brunch sex. Am I
right?”
She focused on
the prominent Adam’s apple in his tanned throat. He was all over stubble again.
She wondered how the scratchiness would feel.
“There’s
nothing wrong with love-making.”
“No,” he
agreed, and he smiled when she glanced up in surprise. “There’s a place for
that too. Long afternoons, lace curtains and taking each other in long,
luxurious, slow licks of pleasure.” He stroked her cheek. “I can be into that
too. But I’m offering something the Brandons of the world won’t. I think
there’s a very dirty girl under all that lovely lady exterior. The one who gets
juiced just looking at my art. Who wants it hard and hot and maybe just a
little rough. Tell me, has any man dared to tie you up with your legs spread
wide, so he could have his way with you?”
She gaped at
him and he leaned in. Whispered in her ear.
“I would. One
word from you, princess, and I will.”
“Is this your
idea of luring me?” She tried to sound indignant, but it came out breathless.
“Absolutely.”
He flashed her his wicked grin. “And it’s working too.”
About the Author:
Jeffe Kennedy took the crooked road to writing, stopping off at neurobiology, religious studies and environmental consulting before her creative writing began appearing in places like Redbook, Puerto del Sol, Wyoming Wildlife, Under the Sun and Aeon. An erotic novella, Petals and Thorns, came out under her pen name of Jennifer Paris in 2010, heralding yet another branch of her path, into erotica and romantic fantasy fiction. Since then, an erotic short, Feeding the Vampire, and another erotic novella, Sapphire, have hit the shelves.
Jeffe lives in Santa Fe, with two Maine coon cats, a border collie, plentiful free-range lizards and frequently serves as a guinea pig for an acupuncturist-in-training. Find her on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/Author.Jeffe.Kennedy and Twitter (@jeffekennedy) or visit her at her website http://jeffekennedy.com/.
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