Sweet Desire
CHAPTER ONE
Sophie ran her red fingernails over the black silk, so luxurious to the touch and enticing to the eye.
She swore angels sang when this glorious pair of panties was crafted. Such a perfect item of lingerie from the sheer front, to the silk back, to those criss-cross ties up the sides that invited strong hands to untie them, yank them off, and demand that legs be spread.
Whew. Is it getting hot in this boutique or is it just my fantasy?
“These are simply to die for,” Sophie declared, lifting the plush satin hanger to show the gorgeous piece to her good friend Jenna.
“Oh, that’s too delicious for words,” Jenna said, her eyes widening as she left the red teddy she was perusing on the rack, and walked over to join Sophie in proper adoration of a glamorous pair of panties.
Soft music played in the stylish boutique that was Sophie’s absolute favorite in all of Vegas, since it boasted the most tantalizing collection of silk, satin and lace, and all her favorite designers. She was a regular here and the owner often set aside items she knew Sophie would covet.
Like this black beauty.
If only Sophie had someone to wear them for. Ideally, the kind of man who would know just what to do with her in this delicious lingerie.
“I’m pretty sure they’re calling out to me,” she said, lifting the panties to her ear. “Why yes, I hear them saying ‘buy me, wear me, let me snuggle up against you.’”
Jenna laughed. “Funny, I can hear that too.”
Sophie held up a finger. “Wait. It’s not the only thing speaking to me,” she said, when she spotted nearby a stunning display of one of the sexiest forms of clothing known to womankind. Mankind too. Because these stockings could bring a man to his knees.
Though, truth be told, she’d much rather be on her knees for the right man.
Preferably wearing these stockings.
“Come to me,” she said, making grabby hands as she reached for a black pair with a seam up the back. They were thigh highs. Also known as — a prelude to sweet desire.
“These are perfect. I insist you get them as well,” Jenna chimed in.
Sophie clutched them to her chest. They were criminally soft to the touch. “Then I insist on wearing them tomorrow night to the gala at Aria.”
Jenna gave an approving nod, then whispered conspiratorially. “And when some gorgeous eligible bachelor wanders into the event, looking all cool and debonair, he’ll see you in your stockings and devise all sorts of wicked ways he wants to tie you up with them.”
A burst of sparks licked through her veins. “A woman can only hope,” she murmured, because that was a fervent wish of hers.
Sophie Winston possessed particular fantasies, starting with a strong, confident, wildly intense man raking his eyes over her from head to toe, ownership in his gaze. He’d know just how to touch her, he’d understand precisely how to command her pleasure, and then he’d do naughty things as he restrained her, with his tie, with these stockings, with his hands.
Any or all.
She craved that kind of kink with the right man. A man who’d make her cry out in unholy pleasure, in wildly, addictive ecstasy as she surrendered to him. That man would be smart, strong, and good. He’d also be an absolutely filthy, dominating, alpha male who’d fuck her senseless. Take control of her, bend her over the bed, put her on her knees.
Maybe someday she’d slide on these stockings, then slip into these panties, and meet that man. Have a drink, dance a little, then sneak away for a sensual encounter worthy of all her late-night dirty dreams.
Yes, it was definitely hot in the boutique.
She made her way to the counter with the black stockings and the sheer lace panties. “I’ll take both.”
And a side of Fantasy Male of my Dreams, please.
CHAPTER TWO
Johnny Cash led the way, racing to the bottom of the trail. Nothing was going to stop the border collie from beating the two-legged creatures. Ryan’s youngest brother Colin finished next, then Ryan reached the trailhead one second later, breath coming fast from an epic run.
He tapped the wooden sign. “Forty-four minutes for this trail. Our best time ever,” he said, as his heart beat furiously from the final sprint down the hill.
“Forty-four minutes for me. Forty-four minutes and one second for you,” Colin corrected, with an arch of the eyebrow.
“Cocky bastard,” Ryan said with a grin, as a bead of sweat slid down his chest. He headed for the water fountain, pressed the spout, then patted the edge. “C’mon boy.”
Johnny Cash trotted over, leapt up, and placed his paws on the stone edge of the fountain, lapping up streams of water. Like the rest of them, he’d worked hard that evening on the trail run.
Sophie ran her red fingernails over the black silk, so luxurious to the touch and enticing to the eye.
She swore angels sang when this glorious pair of panties was crafted. Such a perfect item of lingerie from the sheer front, to the silk back, to those criss-cross ties up the sides that invited strong hands to untie them, yank them off, and demand that legs be spread.
Whew. Is it getting hot in this boutique or is it just my fantasy?
“These are simply to die for,” Sophie declared, lifting the plush satin hanger to show the gorgeous piece to her good friend Jenna.
“Oh, that’s too delicious for words,” Jenna said, her eyes widening as she left the red teddy she was perusing on the rack, and walked over to join Sophie in proper adoration of a glamorous pair of panties.
Soft music played in the stylish boutique that was Sophie’s absolute favorite in all of Vegas, since it boasted the most tantalizing collection of silk, satin and lace, and all her favorite designers. She was a regular here and the owner often set aside items she knew Sophie would covet.
Like this black beauty.
If only Sophie had someone to wear them for. Ideally, the kind of man who would know just what to do with her in this delicious lingerie.
“I’m pretty sure they’re calling out to me,” she said, lifting the panties to her ear. “Why yes, I hear them saying ‘buy me, wear me, let me snuggle up against you.’”
Jenna laughed. “Funny, I can hear that too.”
Sophie held up a finger. “Wait. It’s not the only thing speaking to me,” she said, when she spotted nearby a stunning display of one of the sexiest forms of clothing known to womankind. Mankind too. Because these stockings could bring a man to his knees.
Though, truth be told, she’d much rather be on her knees for the right man.
Preferably wearing these stockings.
“Come to me,” she said, making grabby hands as she reached for a black pair with a seam up the back. They were thigh highs. Also known as — a prelude to sweet desire.
“These are perfect. I insist you get them as well,” Jenna chimed in.
Sophie clutched them to her chest. They were criminally soft to the touch. “Then I insist on wearing them tomorrow night to the gala at Aria.”
Jenna gave an approving nod, then whispered conspiratorially. “And when some gorgeous eligible bachelor wanders into the event, looking all cool and debonair, he’ll see you in your stockings and devise all sorts of wicked ways he wants to tie you up with them.”
A burst of sparks licked through her veins. “A woman can only hope,” she murmured, because that was a fervent wish of hers.
Sophie Winston possessed particular fantasies, starting with a strong, confident, wildly intense man raking his eyes over her from head to toe, ownership in his gaze. He’d know just how to touch her, he’d understand precisely how to command her pleasure, and then he’d do naughty things as he restrained her, with his tie, with these stockings, with his hands.
Any or all.
She craved that kind of kink with the right man. A man who’d make her cry out in unholy pleasure, in wildly, addictive ecstasy as she surrendered to him. That man would be smart, strong, and good. He’d also be an absolutely filthy, dominating, alpha male who’d fuck her senseless. Take control of her, bend her over the bed, put her on her knees.
Maybe someday she’d slide on these stockings, then slip into these panties, and meet that man. Have a drink, dance a little, then sneak away for a sensual encounter worthy of all her late-night dirty dreams.
Yes, it was definitely hot in the boutique.
She made her way to the counter with the black stockings and the sheer lace panties. “I’ll take both.”
And a side of Fantasy Male of my Dreams, please.
CHAPTER TWO
Johnny Cash led the way, racing to the bottom of the trail. Nothing was going to stop the border collie from beating the two-legged creatures. Ryan’s youngest brother Colin finished next, then Ryan reached the trailhead one second later, breath coming fast from an epic run.
He tapped the wooden sign. “Forty-four minutes for this trail. Our best time ever,” he said, as his heart beat furiously from the final sprint down the hill.
“Forty-four minutes for me. Forty-four minutes and one second for you,” Colin corrected, with an arch of the eyebrow.
“Cocky bastard,” Ryan said with a grin, as a bead of sweat slid down his chest. He headed for the water fountain, pressed the spout, then patted the edge. “C’mon boy.”
Johnny Cash trotted over, leapt up, and placed his paws on the stone edge of the fountain, lapping up streams of water. Like the rest of them, he’d worked hard that evening on the trail run.