Enticing Dominatrix’s frosty heart melts in the lap of cocky Soldier Boy.
Nancy Barton, MD, is an intelligent, beautiful woman in control. She’s 39, single, and emotionally reserved – some colleagues have nicknamed her “Doctor Ice Queen”.
They don’t know about her other, hidden life. Where she is Mistress Nancy, Dominatrix. At the adult club Pandora’s, men yearn to kneel before her. She is free to unleash passion while shielding her heart.
Until war vet Terry Carpenter joins the club.
His mission- fulfill his newly discovered cravings. For him, Nancy is a fantasy come true.
This rascal, this Soldier Boy incinerates her defenses. For the first time in her life, love blooms. Just as she surrenders heart, a claim from Terry’s past shatters it.
As Patrons arrived, the buzz in the Main hall began to increase. The evening would begin with a cocktail party, then dinner and a show in three acts, followed by continued playing among the Patrons and among Staff. Background music played a counterpoint to the buzz of the crowd.
Terry watched the front door as one elegantly dressed Patron after another entered, were greeted and then drifted into the cocktail party.
Women of all ages entered, checked their coats, and joined the crowd in the main room. There was about an even split between men and women; He didn’t notice the guys at all. The women had him enthralled. Their costumes ranged from cat suits to schoolgirls, with a good number of corsets in between. The sensuality of their dress and deportment was unlike anything he had ever seen before.
He had been to brothels, but the sexiness there was different. That was a commercialization of sexuality. Here, it had an air of celebration. Some women were heavy, real BBW’s for sure. Others were as lithe and slender as a ballerina. All of them were alluring. He watched the crowd as it grew; over a hundred Patrons were present, mingling with laughter, sipping champagne from flutes presented by the Attendants.
His eyes kept flitting to the door, watching each new arrival. He was tucked at the end of the horseshoe bar, on the far side from the door. He had a clear view of the entrance and coat check, from an obscure location. Old habits die hard. He was performing reconnaissance, and preferred being out of the way.
Which was a good thing. The front door opened again.
Terry stopped breathing.
His jaw dropped open.
And was lost.
Rachel Collins is praying. And not for world peace. Thirty six years old and single, her prayer is self-centered. “Kill me now, Lord,” she pleads during her latest attempt to meet Mr. Right via the internet.
She’s not hoping for a billionaire or even a millionaire, just a guy who can strike a spark to her tinder! Is she asking too much? She’s a great gal! Just ask her parents! She might be a bit naive about some things, but capable enough- she’s a correspondent for a major magazine, after all. So there!
On assignment she meets Michael, 42 years old, also a writer. The attraction is immediate and intense. Rachel, who sees vanilla as only a baking ingredient, enchants him. Michael can whip up some pretty hot delights himself, outside of the kitchen. He introduces a curious Rachel to powerful experiences of sensuality. Her sense of propriety engages in a running battle with her now sparked desires.
Michael is an excellent cook and knows how to turn up the heat. Sampling the flavors offered, Rachel experiences humorous hiccups. On a date, Michael ramps up the risqué, resulting in a memorable skirt swirling salsa dance. Rachel’s “What the hell, I ain’t getting any younger” attitude spurs Michael to take her to the exclusive, adults only club Pandora’s. Here, Rachel witnesses even more variations of earthly delights, and begins a lifelong friendship with another guest.
Michael is a realist, convinced that within 90 days, his affair with Rachel will be but another painful memory of loss. He is neither willing nor able to yell ‘Geronimo’ and fall for her. He can’t, and that’s that.
Maybe he should just get a damn dog.
This modern, urban, grown up love story is a recipe –three cups romance and one cup of slapdash humor. Blend in spices of eroticism, and beat until smooth.
Like the song says, ‘You can’t hurry love… you have to trust and give it time…” is absolutely true. KD McLean and Des Torres both thought their shot at love was over when they were each in their fifties and single. Very single…
Then they met. Who would have thought that the same butterflies you had at 16 can hit you when your KIDS are in their twenties? What a wonderful second chance- to find a soul mate who not only shares your dreams and hopes, but rolls up their sleeves to pitch in building them to fruition right beside you.
Living the dream? If that’s doing work you love with someone just as excited about what you do as you are, then yes, it’s livin’ the dream- even if you still need to do the damn dishes. Or walk the dog. Which is easy when you’re able to walk your pug Ruby along the shore of Lake Ontario with your dream guy holding your hand.