Publication Date: June 27, 2015
Genres: Contemporary, Erotic, Romance
Psychology postgrad Evelyn Maier eschews men and sex. Her joy’s in work and travel—like her upcoming trip to Africa. But her vacation is cancelled when she inadvertently enters a dangerous, illicit sex game. Without warning, she finds herself ensnared by a smoldering Dominant who pulls orgasms from her nearly against her will.Mason Brady has suppressed his Dominant nature ever since a disastrous relationship that left him broken. But when his brother convinces him to rejoin The Chase, the sprawling game of domination and submission Mason founded years before, he relishes the role. Until he captures Evelyn, an unwitting passerby.
Now Evelyn is crying rape, and Mason is racked by guilt. He’s certain he’ll convince her it was a misunderstanding, but he must hold her until she trusts him. Evelyn has her own angle: she’ll play along with Mason’s kidnapping until she’s fooled him into believing she’s forgiven him. Then she’ll seek her revenge once he releases her.
In the ensuing game of cat and mouse, they ride the lines between capture, consent, and love.
Her shortcut was just ahead. She turned off the road, passed behind a clump of bushes through a little-known gap in the hedge, and entered the broad parklands surrounding the campus like an oasis in the city, refuge to kangaroos, possums, and many other creatures, and the pride of Brisbane University. On her key ring hung a tiny flashlight, and she used it to see her way through the pathless garden until she reached the first paved walkway.
She didn’t want to think about what had happened at Tink’s place. Tink was wrong. Life was just so much easier without men. There was no drama. She could do what she wanted, travel when and where she wished. People didn’t judge her because she liked to travel. It was normal. She was perfectly normal.
As she walked along the well-lit brick paths, she heard the dripping of rainwater from the leaves and the occasional rustle of small nocturnal animals in the dense foliage. Deserted, the campus grounds were so different from the usual daily bustle, but it was the September mid-semester break—fifteen days of glorious peace before the madness of the final quarter. The students had cleared out, the parties were over, and those faculty members still coming in to work arrived late and left early.
Emerging from the parklands, she passed the sports grounds without encountering a single person. At the doors to the main building, she was relieved to see that the lights were on inside. She swiped her access card, and the doors slid open.
Her trainers slapped loudly on the concrete floor in the oppressive silence within, eerie and echoing. Evelyn broke into a jog, eager to complete her mission and get back out to the busy streets of Brisbane. She paused at the elevator. Should she take it, or use the stairs to the Psychology Department on the third floor? The stairwell looked shadowy, the steps disappearing upward into darkness.
Cursing her nervousness, she slapped the button to summon the elevator, and it pinged open a second later. She bounded in and pushed the button for the third floor. As the doors closed, she thought she heard distant laughter and a scream before the elevator began its ponderous journey upward, cutting off all sound. Sweat broke out all over her body, prickling uncomfortably—god only knew how long she’d be trapped if it got stuck!
As the doors slid open to reveal the familiar foyer of the Psych Department, she realized she’d been holding her breath.
The halls leading to the offices were in darkness, but that didn’t matter to Evelyn. She’d been working as an assistant lecturer since the beginning of the year while doing her thesis part-time, and knew every nook and cranny of the warren-like passages. More puzzling were the sounds of distant revelry—high-pitched giggling, the rumble of men’s voices, and occasionally a louder clamor as if a crowd was laughing or shouting together. She felt strangely furtive, an outside listening in where she shouldn’t.
Swiping her access card again to open the glass security door between the foyer and the offices, she strode down the passage to Professor Waverly’s office. She fumbled for a moment then found the light switch.
She left the pile of assignments on his chair, thinking they might go unnoticed amongst the clutter on his desk, and as an afterthought, scribbled a note reminding him she would be away for the next two weeks and unavailable on her mobile. He was absentminded about that sort of thing, and she wouldn’t put it past him to leave her fifty voice messages.
With a sense of relief, she turned off the light and returned to the foyer. This time she took the stairs to the ground floor, bolting through the shadowed landings, along the main corridor, and out the doors, taking a deep breath as she emerged into the warm night air. She’d be home and asleep by half past ten.
Back on the brick paths under the trees, her pace brisk, she became aware of footsteps behind her halfway through the parkland.
Icy tendrils of fear snaked through her belly and goose bumps ran riot on her arms. Was it just a coincidence? Another late-night visitor to the campus who had nothing to do with her?
She walked faster and then, prodded by her fight-or-flight instinct, broke into a run. To her dismay, the footsteps sped up behind her—not just a chance encounter, then. Her pulse rate escalated as she upped her speed.
(Copyright: JB Brooks 2015)
Craving something different? JB Brooks writes gasping-hot erotic fiction for readers who hunger for extraordinary passion every day. Sometimes humorous, sometimes dark, her creations are passionate and earthy.A survivor of the corporate world, JB spent twenty years in the IT industry, from which she finally escaped, allowing her to indulge her true passion...creating unusual erotic encounters for her imaginary friends!
JB is an ex-South African and lives with her extended family in Queensland, Australia's sunshine state. She feels privileged to coexist, in relative peace and harmony, with her husband, daughter, parents, grandmother and two slightly crazy ex-racehorses. She loves to write - anytime, anywhere - and could not survive without the techno-gadgets which make this possible.
JB is a firm believer in lust at first sight, and love ever after.