Eliza Gayle » Wicked Christmas Eve

Publisher: Cobblestone Press
ISBN: 978-1-60088-728-4
Genre: BDSM Erotica
Themes: BDSM, Dominance, Submission, Bondage, Toys
Format: eBook
Length: Short Story

A man with a flogger and a candy cane. How can she resist?

After a disastrous christmas eve visit with her family, Megan Wilson heads to her old stomping ground for a little liquid escape. Instead she finds the one that got away.

Unaware that Wicked Grounds has changed since she left town, she walks into the bar to find her high school crush, Cyrus Jackson wielding a flogger against the naked backside of a woman tied to a whipping post.

More than ready for an adventure, Megan sets out to prove to Cy she is woman enough to handle even his darkest desires. At least for one night…

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Excerpt

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An Excerpt From: Wicked Christmas Eve

Why in the hell had she thought coming back to this town would be a good idea? From the moment her car had passed the city limits sign, her world had gone to hell, starting with the speeding ticket she’d gotten from a hot cop who was not amused.

She’d spent the next eight hours with her extended family over Christmas Eve dinner until she’d been unable to take another second of the constant bickering and the not so subtle digs about the current shambles of her life. Between her mother firing one question after another and her sister’s snide remarks, Megan had ground her teeth to the point of pain. Another day of this bullshit, and she’d have to find a dentist. Or an exorcist.

A slight smile curved her lips. The image of a priest coming to the front door with his Bible and rosary nearly made her laugh out loud.

Megan glanced through the windshield at the near empty parking lot before turning her gaze to the front of her favorite hangout. The Open sign blinked neon red. The last time she’d walked through those doors had been her twenty-first birthday, almost ten years to the day.

Unfortunately, her plans to set the world on fire had fallen flat. She’d gotten her degree in political science only to be turned down by one law school after another. Six months later, she’d settled into a legal secretarial position and a routine that made the next several years go by in a blur. Then out of the blue, she’d been laid off. With only a few days until Christmas, Megan had thought a change of scenery was in order and had headed home to Florida. So maybe it was her head that needed examined after all.

Ready for a drink, she opened her car door and stepped out. It didn’t surprise her to find so few cars in the parking lot. Most peopleweren’t trying to escape on Christmas Eve. Her shoes thudded quietly on the soft pavement until she reached

the door. She did her best to ignore the strand of floss—otherwise known as a thong—riding between her ass checks. A heavy sigh formed in her chest. Why hadn’t she changed before she ran out? Because another second in that house would have killed her, that’s why.

Megan glanced around the parking lot again to make sure she was completely alone before she reached under her skirt and grabbed the edge of her panties. She yanked them down her legs and stepped out of them. It wasn’t as if anyone here would notice whether she wore anything under her boring gray skirt. She shoved the offending scrap to the bottom of her purse and straightened her clothes one final time. Much better.

One more minute and she’d be happily seated at the bar. Thirty minutes after that, she’d be halfway to smashed if she had any say about it. She’d worry about getting home later—much later.

She pushed the door open. Instead of the coat rack and stand filled with brochures and advertisements she’d expected, a large man sitting on a stool in the corner looked up from the book he was reading.

“Evening,” he said with barely a nod.

Taken aback by a bouncer, she hurried past him. The main room was dark, and she stopped to give her eyes a few seconds to adjust. On autopilot, she turned to the right and headed in the direction of the bar. There were only a few tables occupied, but a couple of people eyed her as she walked by. Thankfully there were no faces she recognized, so she didn’t hesitate. She grabbed a stool at the bar and dropped her purse in her lap.

“Can I get a tequila shot straight up?” she asked the bartender.

His eyebrows raised, which she promptly ignored. It was her Christmas Eve, and she’d damn well do as she pleased, even if that meant getting sloshed alone in a bar.

“On second thought, make that two.” The man behind the bar grabbed two small glasses and filled them. “We have a two drink maximum if you’re planning to play

tonight.” Her head shot up, and she met his gaze. “Play?” He picked up her

glasses from the bar and used them to indicate behind her before he sat them in front of her. Megan scooped up one of her drinks and slowly turned the stool to investigate. The barroom was quite large with dark wood tables filling the space, but in the back corner, there were double doors propped open that led to a separate area. A private room rented out for parties if she remembered correctly. Although what her gaze rested on certainly lacked in privacy.

Megan’s eyes widened.

Just beyond the opening she spied a naked woman standing against a tall post with her arms tied over her head. Megan’s booted foot slipped from the ledge of the stool and landed on the floor with a thud. The tall blonde woman had a strikingly thin figure, willowy like a model with porcelain perfect skin except for the red streaks covering her ass.

While Megan struggled for a consistent thought on what she was witnessing, an imposing male figure blocked her view of the mystery woman with the lovely backside. Broad shoulders, a lean torso, and an awesomely tight ass encased in black pants filled the doorway. Curious to see more, Megan shifted on the seat to angle her body for the best view. The rear view alone caused a slight tingle in all her girly parts. Now she wanted him to turn around so she could see the face of her newly imagined sex god.

Instead her gaze was drawn to his hips where his hand held a flogger in a tight grip. A flash of heat tore through her,. Her sex moistened, and her nipples puckered at the thought of him raising his arm and using the flogger on the woman helpless in front of him.

Holy fuck.

Suddenly she felt like Alice in the rabbit hole. She was from a small, southern town. It wasn’t exactly a hotbed of sexual proclivities, but obviously that had changed. The bartender behind her cleared his throat, pulling her attention to the fact she was staring at something obviously not her business. She swiveled in her seat and brought the shot of alcohol to her lips. In one gulp, she downed the fiery liquid. She welcomed the burn in the hopes it would distract her from the wild thoughts now racing through her mind.

A sex club.