Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Sable Hunter Spotlight

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The Joy of Being Propositioned

I bet I know what you’re thinking. And you’d be right. That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Yea, that kind of proposition. . .
I write full time now. So, I am alone 90 percent of the time. When I was out in the work place, however, I usually worked in environments where I was either the lone woman or the highest ranking management woman in a sea of men. Most of the time I worked in power plants or engineering field offices where I was in charge of budgeting or purchasing for major construction projects. The men I worked with were not your indoorsy executives, they were the rolled-up-sleeves, hard-hats, tight jeans, young, tanned, (fanning myself, here) – and usually married. Most of the time they treated me like spun glass – which I enjoyed. But they would proposition me occasionally, which I didn’t find that offensive. I was single and they were never crude about it, I tended to take it as a compliment and laugh it off. But there was one time. . . . . well, let me tell you about it.
about meI was flying on a Lear jet to attend a budget meeting in Baton Rouge. It was a high level budget meeting. The President of the company just happened to be one of the passengers. This was the first time that I had been privilege to meet him and I fell for him in one fell swoop – hook, line and sinker. He was one man I will never forget. I won’t use his name, but if I did, you could google him. We were in the process of rejuvenating a nuclear power plant. Nuclear power is controversial, at best, and very expensive to be involved with; primarily because of government regulations. Our company crossed state lines which threw us to be not only under state scrutiny, but federal. So, we wanted to do it right. We hired one of the premier authorities on nuclear power at the time to lead our company. He came from France. And he was tanned – and young – and handsome – and brilliant. And I was – I was SMITTEN!
I was not high level management. I was mid-level at best. But I was the only female present. A car was brought for our use, to transport us from the office to the airport and then one on the other end of our trip. He looked at me – up and down – as if taking my measure. He smiled. I blushed. He asked who I was and my supervisor explained that I was the lead accountant and his right hand. That seemed to satisfy Mr. Gorgeous and I was thinking of other ways that I might satisfy him along the way.
Our company President influenced me in ways that are still impacting me – from the mundane to the life-changing. I get amused thinking of it. Once, he told me to hire a car, and make sure it wasn’t a white one. White cars are very popular these days. But I will never own one, because of him. He said white cars were fleet cars. He only drove black. I drive either black or dark grey, because of him, and I sorta look down my nose at white cars to this day.
He was also a marvelous speaker. He could get up and talk for an hour and quote numbers and facts (and they would be correct) and never use a note and make my panties damp while he did so. I sought to emulate him. I studied the jobs we took on. I memorized the numbers, I learned the jargon – I became indispensable in my little area. Ha! Later, I became a speaker, and I trained my brain to memorize and learn so I would never use a note. It makes a difference in your delivery. But I digress from the juicy stuff . . . .
When we would travel, he would always hold doors for me. He allowed me to sit in the front and he – this worldly businessman – would sit in the rear. Now, you have to understand, I was making five figures and he was earning a seven figure salary. He had no motive for treating me like a lady other than the fact that he was one hell of a sexy gentleman. I enjoyed watching him interact with the other men. They treated him like he was royalty – they bowed and scraped – and he just passed it off as his due. But every once in a while, when they would fawn over him, he would look at me and wink. As if to say - - “Can you believe this crap?” I would laugh to myself and enjoy the shared moment.
I grew to know him quite well. Over time, he became a topic of conversation about why I was always the number cruncher he chose to accompany him. After all, I was not the senior budgeter. I was not male. I was not really on the fast track – or so it seemed to me. But when there was a meeting or a trip and he needed someone to feed him facts and figures and make sure he had the correct information on hand when he needed it – he chose me. This set-up became a bone of contention for my immediate supervisors who wandered why their subordinate was traveling with the big dog and they were left behind to grumble in their cubicle. And office gossip finally made its way to my ears. And when it did – I sorta became curious myself.
And I made some wrong assumptions.

You see, I was attracted to this man. This was way before I even thought about publishing a romance novel. But in this case, I was weaving my own tale of seduction and hearts and flowers around this incredible man who treated me, for the most part, like a mentor would.  So. . . . one day, he called me into his office – alone. I went, trembling. I just knew that this was it – my hero was about to proposition me. I had considered it, and he wasn’t married. Now, I had no illusions that he seriously wanted to date me – he was way, way out of my league, socially, economically, and every other which a way. But, I was cute. And the other guys seemed to want me. I will confess at this moment, that I had never taken any of those men up on their propositions. I write sexy, now. But I was a boring, good girl in those days.
But, I lived in hope. Honestly, as I was walking into that upper echelon executive office, my panties were damp and the word – YES – was hovering on my lips. I was ready to succumb to the temptation of this man. He had blonde hair. He had a dimple next to his sexy mouth. He had ice blue eyes and a body like Jason Statham. Yea - - I was gonna say ‘yea’ to whatever his proposition might be.
“Sit down, Miss Hunter.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Would you like a cup of coffee?”  I jumped up to get both of us a cup. “Sit down, I’ve got it. I think I can manage to pour a couple of cups of coffee.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Is that all you have to say?” He smiled, wickedly, at me.
“Yes, Sir.” My submissive nature was already making itself known. Ha!
He sat on the corner of the desk and looked at me, and I fidgeted a little in my chair. I have always worn dresses - sundresses, cotton dresses – girly dresses. When all of the other female management workers were wearing three piece suits, I was always floating around in a flouncy little number with buttons and spaghetti straps.
“Do you know why I have called you into my office?”
“Maybe,” I gave him a shy smile. My nipples were hard and there was no way he was missing the little round spots they made in my bodice.
“I’ve been watching you.”
God, I’d been watching him, too. My palms were damp and my skin was tingling from head to foot. “You have?”      
“Yes, I have. And I’m pleased with what I see.”
Faint. Swoon. If I hadn’t been sitting down, I would have sank to my knees.  “Really?”
“Yes, I have a proposition for you.” His eyes were intense and gazed straight into mine. I swear my clothes were going to fall off without a bit of assistance.
“All right, the answer is ‘yes’.” Okay, I have no resistance. I admit it.
He threw back his head and laughed. “You’re precious. And smart. I like you.”
I was in love. Bam! “I like you, too.” I wondered if we would ‘do it’ on his desk or go to a hotel room.
“Aren’t you going to wait and see what the offer is before you accept?”
“I trust you.” Yea, I was in deep.
“Very well.” He walked toward me and held out his hand.
I placed my small hand in his. I was expecting him to pull me up in his arms and kiss me. Ha! Instead, he shook my hand. “Great. I’ve been looking for a personal assistant. I need someone who can keep up with me and someone who knows their way around a budget. I like that you always have the answers. Go pack your desk. You’re moving to the 17th floor.”
“What?” You could have knocked me over with a feather. He was offering me a promotion! Wait! At that moment, I would have traded my job for a kiss!! Hell.
“I’ll have Human Resources send you the packet. I’m sure you’ll be pleased with your salary increase.” He walked me to the door, his hand on the small of my back. “I like the dresses, by the way. Don’t change a thing about yourself, you suit me just fine.”
Well, I was flabbergasted. I was happy. I was unhappy. I was elated. I was disappointed. He had made me a proposition, but I was disappointed that he was attracted to my brain rather than my body. Oh, well. Like I said, I learned a lot from that man. And to this day, he has starred in my fantasies. The next one he’ll star in is THUNDERBIRD. In my mind, Kyle Chancellor is my former boss. And my panties are wet, just remembering him. I never was privileged to kiss him, but he treated me well.
Here’s another proposition for you – ha!
Finding Dandi – here’s the link

Finding Dandi (Hell Yeah! Cajun Style: Book 3)

Please come visit me anytime.
 And I’ll give a copy of FINDING DANDI away today!

Dandi only saw him. The Viking. Her hero – maybe. The other girls had been staring at him, making lewd comments. They all wanted in his pants. One had said that he looked like some actor but Dandi couldn’t place the name. It would come to her, sooner or later. He certainly looked like a god to her. Rubbing her palms on her dress, she tried to calm down, knowing she was about to do something she had never expected to do. She was going to ask a stranger for help. Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself – looking up into his handsome face. “Would you come with me, please? I need to talk to you, privately.”
“Yes.” He didn’t even hesitate.
“Privately! We know what that means!”
Lucas swung on Ralph, “I’ve heard all out of you that I can stand.”  
Turning back to the Angel, he saw her chest expand and contract – those beautiful breasts rising and falling with each breath. She was nervous. God, she was totally adorable, an intriguing mix of sensuality and innocence. The Little Dancer was like no stripper he had ever known.
Lucas let his gaze rove over her, hungrily. She was petite, maybe five-foot-four. Dressed in a backless black outfit, she looked like pure sin. Her hair hung like an ebony waterfall of lush ringlets. What would it be like to bury his face in all of that softness, feel the strands gently move across his naked skin, let his fingers massage her scalp? Damn!
Her body was a perfect hour-glass with flared hips and luscious tits; he could see the outline of melt-in-your-mouth nipples bumping up against material sheer enough to torture him. Mercy! He was unbelievably turned on. Just the idea of her hands on him had his blood surging through his veins like lava.
“Would you come with me?” She held out her hand and he took it, tossing a head nod to his friends who groaned behind him – all wishing they were in his shoes. If he didn’t see them anymore tonight, it wouldn’t bother him a bit. He’d much rather sample this little doll’s treasures.
Angel Baby led him through the crowd, pulling him along behind her like she was pulling a little red wagon. She didn’t have to tug hard; he was going with her very willingly. Several men stared at him with undisguised envy. And he didn’t blame them a bit. When they neared the bar, a customer stopped her and asked for a photo.
She glanced at him apologetically. “Excuse me, please.”
“Certainly, I’ll be waiting.” She was so polite. He took a good long look at her legs – smooth, tanned and toned – dancer’s legs. Lucas could almost feel them wrapped around his waist as he slammed into her with powerful strokes – her little heels would dig into his ass and she would leave rake marks on his back.
He stood by patiently while she conferred with another of the ladies, accepting a hug. Then she patiently posed with another customer while his friend took their picture. He noticed that she moved the man’s hand when it got too close to her breast.
Lucas almost intervened.
Dandi was tired of the pictures and the interviews and the attention, she was anxious to return to her hero. When she turned back to him, it was to watch a tall, skinny man slipping the Viking’s wallet out of his back pants pocket. “Stop! He’s taking your wallet!” she cried. The pick-pocket jerked it out and Dandi didn’t even hesitate – she hated thieves! She grasped him by the arm before he could take off.
It all happened fast, Lucas heard the little dancer yell at the same time he felt a bump against his back. He wheeled around, but the little thing was fast - she had already launched herself at the thief, holding his arm. The man didn’t let go of his wallet, before Lucas could move the three or four feet to take care of it, the bastard knocked her flying with a hard backhand to the face. Lucas was stunned and infuriated. “Dammit! Big mistake, Asshole!”
Lucas lunged through the air and tackled the guy to the ground. Every once in a while his footballs days came in handy. “Why don’t you try to hit me, Bastard? Or do you just get off hitting fragile little girls?” He flipped the idiot over and pulled his hands back in a hold designed to painfully subdue. One of the bouncers came to relieve Lucas of his burden. He grabbed his wallet and pocketed it, knowing full well the police would not be called. Now – where was she?
Several people had gathered around his little champion, but he elbowed his way to her side. “Are you okay?” Without delay, he pulled her close and moved her hand away from her face so he could see the damage. Her lip had been cut open and a dark spot was already forming on her cheek. “I’m so sorry, Honey. You should have just let the idiot get away. I’d have handled it.” Right there in front of the whole club, he bent to tenderly kiss the pain away.
Dandi wasn’t going to cry, but she did want to be held more than anything. The thought of stepping into his arms seemed magical, but she didn’t want to do it in front of Romero or any of the girls. What she had in mind required a certain amount of subtlety, “I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt. Can we go talk now?” She pulled out of his arms. It was hard to do. 
“I have a few things to say to you, too.” Talk – he wanted more than talking. “What’s your name, Angel?” Lucas asked as he walked next to her. This time he would shield her instead of trailing along behind. Gawkers watched their every move, but she seemed withdrawn and unaware, like something was bearing on her mind. Seeing a waitress walk by with a glass of ice, he stopped her and took it. She didn’t argue, just smiled.   
“Dandi, my name’s Dandi.”
“Dandi,” he felt the name caress his tongue. “I like it, it’s beautiful. My name is Lucas.”
They walked to the very back and down a narrow hall to what appeared to be a storage room. As soon as they were inside the door, she surprised the hell out of him. Stepping right up against him, she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. The kiss was very chaste, but sweet enough to melt his heart.
“What was that for?”
“For the ice and for defending me. No one has stood up for me in a long, long time. Thank you.” With that simple explanation, she backed away.
“Well, its damn time someone stood up for you. Besides, I’d say you returned the favor by helping me get my wallet back. Come here, I want to see your face. Hand me something soft, we need to get some ice on that bruise.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve been bruised before.” At his stern look, she went to her drawer and took out a soft pair of underwear.
Was the fact she had been bruised before supposed to make him feel better?
“I’m sure you would have caught him anyway.” Blushing, she handed the pale pink panties to him.
“Probably, but I still think you’re the sweetest, bravest woman I’ve ever met.” He rubbed his thumb across the hurt place wishing he could take her pain away. “Though she be but little, she is fierce.”
“Shakespeare, A Midsummer’s Night Dream,” She responded to his kindness, coming to him until their bodies touched. He was so warm. Dandi began to tremble. With the lightest of caresses, he brushed her face with the silk covered ice. A tiny gasp slipped from her lips.
“Yes.” And hotter than she’d ever been in her life. He was looking at her lip intently – Dandi wanted to reach out and kiss him so much she ached. Glancing over his shoulder at the clock, she knew Romero would be watching for her, this couldn’t take forever. “I have something to ask you.” Looking down, she gathered her courage.
God, she was so soft and sweet. He wanted to gather her close and never let her go. Angling his hips back, he concealed the fact that he was rock-hard and ready for a tumble. “I know what you’re going to ask. You want to give me a lap dance.”
Dandi jerked her head up. Lap dance? God, he wanted a lap dance. “Well. . .” What was she going to do? She had never done this before. Could she even fake it? Heck, she had to try; maybe she could make a trade. “Yes, I want to give you a lap dance.”
“Are you sure you feel like it, Baby?” Giving in to his desire, he kissed the corner of her mouth. “You don’t have to, although I’d give five years of my life to have you in my arms.”
Customers weren’t usually allowed to touch during a lap dance – but what went on in a private one, she really had no idea. “I’d like to try. Maybe, I’ll be able to please you.”
He didn’t tell her, but just being in the same room with her pleased him.
Quickly she gathered the portable player already preset with appropriate music, Romero had given it to her several days ago. And the straight back chair, she’d need that. Dandi sat it about three feet from the door so she could use the surface to lean on when she . . . oh my! How was she going to make those moves when she couldn’t even bring herself to think them? It was a good thing she had been watching the other girls, or she wouldn’t have a clue. Turning on the music, she motioned to the chair. “If you’ll sit down, please.”
This was so important, she needed to do it right. A zipper – a button – a clasp, Dandi removed her skirt and her top. Underneath, she wore a tiny black bra and a smaller pair of black lace panties.
“Damn” Lucas growled. High, full breasts spilled out over a little scrap of lace. He gripped the edge of the chair to keep from cupping those succulent little melons. And the rest of her – Lord God Almighty – what had he gotten himself into? He should be on his way to Arkansas, but the only place he wanted to be was between her legs. The music filled the room – seductive, raunchy – an erotic beat that made his pulse pound in time with the drum.
Stepping between his legs, she began to move. Like a harem dancer, she put her arms over her head – sensuously. Her breasts thrust up and out and she leaned in – closer, closer – Lucas’s mouth watered. “I bet your nipples taste like candy.”
He was talking to her, oh no. “Maybe, I’m not sure.” She had to concentrate. Dandi thought a second – dang, this was harder than dancing onstage. Mainly because this mattered – he mattered. “Would you like a sample?”
“Hell yeah!”
“If you’re a good boy, we’ll see.” With more bravado than she felt, Dandi moved her hips in a slow, undulating circle. When Lucas swallowed hard, she knew she was doing it right. Turning her back to him, Dandi kept up the wiggle.
She thanked heaven the lights were dim and the heavy stage make-up covered the scars on her back, or at least she hoped they did. Lifting her hair she bared her neck, surprised at how she felt. Sexy. For the first time, Dandi felt moved by what she was doing. Her nipples were tightening and a heat was beginning to build deep inside. She knew it was Lucas himself who caused her reaction; no other man had ever affected her this way.
Lucas was staring, mesmerized. A little tattooed phoenix on her neck caught his attention. “Nice tat.” His eyes slid along her back, over her hips and down sleek thighs that were parted just enough for him to see a hint of pink between them. When she bent over and pushed that heart-shaped, epic ass toward him - he groaned. “Can I touch?” He knew the answer would be ‘no’, but he had to ask.
Yes? His hands heard the answer before his brain did. Lifting from the death grip on the edge of the chair, they made contact with soft, velvet skin. Jesus! It was only his palms that grazed her hip as she moved it sensuously right in front of his face, but it was enough to make his cock rock-hard and leak. The urge to nip her ass came just as she turned around – but the view was even better from the front – he had no complaints.
As she had seen Jane do, Dandi placed her palms on either side of her throat and slowly slid them down over her chest and around each breast, cupping them. She bent over and rubbed the fabric covered nipples against his cheek. She knew this wasn’t the smoothest performance, for she was literally shaking. If Dandi hadn’t been already turned on, the expression on the Viking’s face would have done the trick. His eyes were burning, and she could see his heartbeat at the base of his throat. When he placed a kiss in her cleavage, it was her turn to groan. Quickly, she pulled up before she gave in to the inclination to sit down on his lap and kiss him till he begged for mercy.
Dandi was going on instinct now; all ability to think was quickly going out the window. Sliding her palm down her middle, she touched herself – dipping her fingers between her legs, caressing the fabric right over her clitoris. God! Her body jerked. She was so aroused, and by the look of things – he was too. Lucas was huge!
Lucas almost lost it. His cock was literally throbbing.  “I could help you with that.” His hands had settled at her waist, his thumbs moving in slow circles on her skin.
“I could use a little help,” she admitted breathlessly, and she needed – more. Having seen some of the girls straddle the men, she capitulated to her desire and settled herself on one of his thick thighs. “You don’t mind if I sit, do you?” Making rhythmic little moves, she closed her eyes, letting the rough material of his jeans give mind-numbing friction to her aching pussy.
“Hell, no,” he growled. “Make yourself at home.”
Dandi cupped his face and began rubbing herself back and forth on the hard muscles of his leg. “This feels so good. I’ve never met a man like you, you make me feel free,” she whispered.
He tried to process her words – he really did. But, God! This was like no lap dance Lucas had ever experienced. He wasn’t complaining. And when her eyes closed, her thighs gripped his and her delectable mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ – he realized the little doll was cumming. A rosy flush of excitement colored her chest and neck. This was no fake performance; this was real – and highly contagious. 
Seeing Dandi taking pleasure from his body set him off like a Roman candle. Lucas Dane Wagner did something he hadn’t done since puberty – he flooded his shorts with cum.
It was a few seconds before Dandi could comprehend what they had done. Oh, she had masturbated a few times, but this was so far out of her realm of experience that she, quite frankly didn’t know what to do. “Sorry,” she started to back up. “I guess I got a little carried away.”
“Don’t you dare move,” Lucas pulled her close. “That was the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.”
Dandi smiled, she disagreed. If anything was sexy – it was him. Resting her cheek against the taut muscles of his wide, hard chest, she let herself relax for a moment while she came down from her orgasm. Dandi could imagine paradise with this man; Lucas would not only make her feel like a desirable woman, he would make her feel like the only woman. What would it be like to learn pleasure from him?
Being in his arms was amazing, she could almost imagine that she belonged there – almost – until he succinctly burst her bubble.
“How much do I owe you?”

Thanks for reading –

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