Show Me The Ropes: The Lothario Series Book 2
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by Roz Lee
Category: Erotica/BDSM Erotica/Romance
Description: For two years, Richard Wolfe, Cruise Director and Co-owner of the Lothario has been in love with the lovely Dr. Fallon Enright. When she hired on to provide oral sex classes, she did it with the stipulation she could document the sessions as research for a self-help book. Because of that research, and Fallon's frustratingly admirable ethics, she's made it clear she wouldn't have a personal relationship with her employer. He was sure his well-deserved reputation as an international playboy had a lot to do with her decision. She'd captured Richard's attention, and his heart, and he'd done everything he could think of to change her mind. Some of his ideas had been stupider than others, but the one thing he was convinced would change her mind was the one thing he wasn't sure he'd ever have the opportunity to tell her. Then Fallon walked into his office and declared her research complete, and asked for an early release from her contract. Something inside him snapped. Desperate for one last chance to convince her he was a changed man, and his love was real, Richard stooped to an all-time low. Blackmailing her into being his sex slave for one week-long cruise in exchange for the early release she wanted was a risk. A big one if she filed sexual harassment charges instead of agreeing. She'd win in a court of law and he and his partner Ryan could lose everything. Fallon couldn't believe she had agreed to Richard's asinine plan. There was something about his tone of voice, when he stipulated she would have to submit to him, in all things. The possibilities sent a shiver up her spine. She'd never thought about being a Sub, but somehow the idea of submitting to Richard felt right. In the course of the week, Richard and Fallon learn a lot about each other, and perhaps more about themselves, as their relationship takes them both into uncharted waters. When at last, Richard reveals everything to Fallon, will it be enough to convince her that his is a binding love?
eBook Publisher: Red Sage Publishing/Red Sage Presents, 2011 2011
eBookwise Release Date: February 2012
1 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [250 KB]
Reading time: 162-227 min.
He introduced me to his partner, a pretty young woman, age 25. She did a good job of looking nervous, but I've seen that look before. She didn't need me to tell her how to suck his cock, but who was I to judge? Maybe I could teach her something about fellatio she didn't know. Doubtful, but possible.
From the file labeled, 'Subject M5, Richard Wolfe'
Fallon slid the file folder into the back of the drawer. She had more than enough research data to support the book, so why was she still here? Her fingers wandered to the front of the drawer. Pink-tabbed folders filled the front half, one for every female subject she'd coached in the last two years. The other half were blue-tabbed. Her fingers stopped on the file labeled 'Subject M5, Richard Wolfe.' Even if misfiled, she'd have no trouble finding it. The tattered tab told its own story. Not that Subject M5 had been back. No, there had only been the one research session, but she'd read the report almost daily since she'd written it nearly two years ago.
She smoothed the file open on her desk. There wasn't a professional observation in it. This file wasn't part of her research and never would be. This one was personal. Every word brought back memories of That Day. That's the way she thought of it now, as some catastrophic event that deserved a name. The passage of time hadn't tempered her feelings. Memories of That Day still hurt. And aroused.
Fallon tried to ignore the insistent throbbing between her legs, even as she cursed her weakness.
Thinking back to That Day, she knew she should have handled it differently. She should have told Subject M5, Richard, to leave when it became apparent his only interest was in the instructor. What manner of woman was she, that she'd allowed him such liberties? Even worse, what manner of woman was she, that she would allow him the same liberty again?
Ever since That Day, Richard had pursued her, vigorously at first, and more subtly the last few months. He'd tried every trick in the book to get her into bed, but she'd told him, in clear, standard American English, that she wouldn't jeopardize her research, or get involved with her employer, especially while said employer screwed every willing female in sight. On a ship the size of the Lothario, and because the ship was the Lothario, there was no shortage of available vaginas. She had no intention of her vagina being one in a long list of visited and forgotten places. No matter what said vagina wept for.
Fallon crossed her legs in hope the added pressure would ease the ache building there. Sometimes she believed women thought with their pussies as much as men thought with their cocks. Hers seemed to have a one-track mind--Richard Wolfe.
If it wasn't for the way Richard's eyes heated every time he saw her, she might think he'd lost interest, he'd become so civilized in his pursuit. They'd even become friends of a sort. As Cruise Director, Richard often needed help with events. If she didn't have a session booked, she volunteered her time, choosing those events Richard would attend.
She sighed and closed the folder. Reading the report again wouldn't change anything. Richard Wolfe was still her employer, still co-owner of the Lothario, and as far as she knew, still screwing his way through the passenger list every seven days. And, he was still, against her better judgment, the man she loved.
She'd come to terms with the revelation months ago and it was why, with her research done, and the book all but written, she was still aboard the Lothario, still giving private fellatio and cunnilingus instruction to couples under the guise of research. Perhaps it was unethical to continue to use the passengers, but they did receive legitimate instruction. Where else could you go for intimacy lessons from a Ph.D. in human sexuality? Maybe it was vanity, but Fallon liked to think she provided a valuable service. Anyone who thought sex was instinctual thought wrong. Perhaps the basics were--insert tab A into slot B. However, there was much more to sexual fulfillment than mechanics. That's where she came in. Oral sex, done right, could add a new dimension to a couple's love life.
Richard knew how to do it right. She squeezed her crossed legs tighter.
Most people thought it a one sided pleasure, but those were the ones who didn't know how to do it correctly. That was the theory on which she'd based her book, and two years of research had convinced her she was right. Nearly one hundred percent of her subjects reported immense satisfaction from bringing their partner to orgasm orally. She'd perfected her instruction techniques, documented the most effective moves, and quantified the results.
A major publishing house had expressed an interest in the book. She'd put them off for several months, postponing the inevitable. Richard Wolfe wasn't the man for her, no matter what her heart and body had to say about the subject, and she couldn't stay onboard the Lothario indefinitely hoping he'd morph into the man she wanted, needed, him to be.
She closed the file and slid it back into the drawer. The time had come.
* * * *
Richard sank into his desk chair and crossed his arms on the desktop. His forehead dropped to rest on top of his arms. Thank God the passengers were gone, for now. He had a few blissfully quiet hours until the new crop came aboard. Two whole hours of solitude. He refused to think about the fact his business partner had abandoned ship the day before, sailing off to domestic bliss with his new girlfriend, and leaving him in charge. Ryan Callahan had found the love of his life and said goodbye to the Lothario, perhaps for good.
With a little luck, Richard would be following Ryan, but first, he had to convince the woman he loved to give him a chance. He'd tried everything he knew to get her attention. He'd tried the playboy angle, parading a variety of women in front of her in a futile effort to make her jealous, and he could admit now, he'd been searching for a viable substitute for the woman he couldn't have. Instead of jealousy, he'd garnered disgust from Fallon and from himself. He'd tried courting her, but as Cruise Director, he was always in the company of beautiful, desirable women.
How he would ever convince Fallon he wasn't the reprobate she believed him to be? He had no idea. Perhaps if he told her what he'd done eighteen months ago, she might give him the chance he was hoping for. No, as long as there was still a chance he could convince her he'd changed, then he preferred to keep his desperation to himself.
Everyone knew not to disturb him for these two precious hours unless the ship was sinking, or on fire, so at the sound of his office door opening, he jerked upright. Fallon stood in the doorway as if he'd conjured her from his frustrated desire. Sharp pain gripped his groin and he willed his erection to wither. He'd become a master at self-control when other women were around, but with Fallon it was still a major struggle, one he lost more often than he won.
"Richard, do you have minute?"
A minute. An hour. A lifetime. "Sure. What's up?" Besides me?
She kept her grip on the doorknob, half in, and half out of the office, as if she prepared to run and use the door as a shield if he moved toward her. "I. . . I'm resigning, effective immediately."
Well, shit. "Come in and shut the door, Fallon. I promise I won't bite."
She glanced over her shoulder as if hoping someone else would come by and witness her entering his office. Her smart, chin-length blond hair fanned out to hide her profile.
He sighed inwardly. Damn. She didn't even want to be alone with him, even in a professional manner. "You're safe with me. I swear."
She closed the door, took the two steps needed to cross the small office and sat in his solitary guest chair. "Is there a problem?" she asked.
Was she kidding? His pulse accelerated as his heart pumped blood to the problem. "I assume you have someone lined up to replace you?" Of course she did. She wouldn't have come unprepared, not Fallon Enright. A lesser mortal maybe, but not the goddess of human sexuality.
Fallon would have a plan A, and at least three others to fall back on if the first one fell flat. He loved that about her, the way she thought things through, paid attention to the details, planned.
"Yes. Kelsey has been observing and assisting for almost a year. I'm sure she can take over."
He nodded in agreement. "You would know best. I'll take your word for it." He knew Kelsey. She didn't have Fallon's credentials, but her customer satisfaction ratings were at the top of the chart. She'd do. So much for nixing Plan A. He'd have to come up with something else to keep Fallon aboard. He needed time to think. If he lost Fallon, he'd effectively doomed himself to a lifetime he couldn't begin to contemplate, and remain sane. "What are her qualifications?"
Fallon launched into what sounded like a well-rehearsed speech touting Kelsey's numerous attributes. Richard tuned it out, his mind working double-time to come up with something, anything, to keep Fallon from leaving.
"Richard. Have you heard a word I said?"
He hadn't. Between watching her pouting lips move, imagining them moving over his cock, and racking his lust-impaired brain for a solution to his problem, he hadn't heard a word. "Sure. You convinced me. Kelsey can take over for you, as of today."
She started to rise. "Thanks. This was easier than I thought it would be." She stood between the chair and his desk. "It's been a pleasure working for you, Richard. I'll make sure you get a copy of the book as soon as it comes out."
"Just a minute." He leaned back in his chair and plopped his heels on his desk. His cock throbbed, as if he needed a reminder of what was at stake. He pointed at the chair she'd just vacated. "Sit back down, Fallon." He waited until she complied. "Are you forgetting you have a contract?"
"Well, no. But. . . ."
"But what? You still have several months before your contract comes up for renewal, I believe."
"Yes, but. . . "
He'd stooped lower than this before, but not in a long while. It was a slimy thing to do, but he was out of options. "I think we can work something out, if you're willing to negotiate."
"Uhm, I guess."
"Okay. Have you ever been a passenger on the Lothario?"
"I'll let you out of the remainder of your contract without penalty, if you spend the next week onboard as a passenger."
She opened her mouth to speak. He stayed her with his hand raised, palm out. "As my passenger."
"You heard me. For the duration of this week's cruise, you will be mine. All mine. You follow my orders without question. You will wear what I provide, go where I direct, submit to me in all things."
He dropped his feet to the floor and leaned on his forearms across the desk. His eyes met hers. "All things."
He hoped she couldn't see his flop-sweat, or detect the tremor in his legs, the real reason he'd shifted his feet to the floor. She, on the other hand, made no effort to conceal her nerves. Her eyes gave her away. The idea aroused her. For the first time in two long years, he felt a surge of hope. He fought to control his facial features as another sharp pain gripped his groin.
"I'll take your lack of protest as an affirmation. I'll speak to Kelsey. She can take over for you immediately. Return to your cabin now. Take off your crew uniform, and pack up the rest. I'll have wardrobe bring you a set of standard passenger attire, and pick up your crew uniforms. Don't leave your cabin until I come for you."
"You can't be serious."
"Sure I can. And I am."
"What's this about, Richard?"
He knew she wouldn't acquiesce without a fight. It wasn't her nature to let someone order her around, at least not where her work was concerned. He was certain that didn't apply to her sexual pursuits, however, and he had every intention of proving it to her, if she'd give him the opportunity.
"It doesn't have anything to do with your work, or your contract. This is personal."
He didn't think her spine could get any straighter, or her features any colder.
"Personal? As in you and me?"
"Yes. Give me one week. No research. Just you and me, together."
"You expect me to submit? Is that how you put it? What, exactly, does that mean?"
"Just what it sounds like. You will be mine for the next seven days. If I tell you to do something, anything, you will do it."
Her eyes narrowed to razor-sharp slits and he thought he could hear her teeth grinding even though she was a good four feet from him.
"Everything," he clarified.
"This isn't right, Richard. You know this is grounds for a sexual harassment lawsuit."
"Yes. You would be within your rights to sue me, based on this conversation alone. I'm willing to take that chance in order to prove to you that I'm not the man you think I am. I'm gambling everything on the premise that you want this as much as I do."
"Yes, you do, or you would have stormed out of here already. Instead, you're sitting there trying to figure out how to accept, without sounding as if this is exactly what you've wanted all along."
She closed her eyes and her lips moved as she silently counted to ten. At least she was thinking about it. "Damn you, Richard Wolfe."
"I'm certain of that. Now, what's it going to be? A lawsuit? Or, if you choose to accept, a simple, "Yes, Richard," will do."
She opened and closed her mouth a few times as if trying to find words. Richard held his breath and his heart beat like a jackhammer against concrete. Ryan would kill him if Fallon sued them for sexual harassment, but it was a risk he was willing to take.
Finally she stood, as regal as any queen, and moved to the door. She paused with her back to him, her hand on the doorknob. This was it. She was going to sue him for everything he had, and probably most of Ryan's fortune too.
She looked over her shoulder. Her lips moved. Two words. Not, "Go to hell," as he'd expected, but "Yes, Richard." And then she was gone.
He let out his pent-up breath and slumped across the desk. His fist closed around cold metal and heated flesh, but brought him no relief. She was going to do it. He'd gambled and won. At least this hand.