Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 137135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Love,
Sienna KD
PS: Oh, and @Jeayness, yes. Yes, there is smut in this one. I promise.
Chapter One
SIENNA
“Vivian P. Urkel! What the fuck is happening?” I scream, my mouth right up to the front-facing camera, so my best friend probably has the perfect view of my uvula—the little dangly thing that swings in the back of your throat. When I pull back so I can see her expression, my suspicions are confirmed.
It’s the wicked grin with the evil little twinkle in her pretty eyes that give her away.
“Why, bestie. Did you just so happen to get a friend request on the Club Alias Members Portal from a certain Pleasure Dom you’ve been drooling over for years, not long after joining a bunch of dating sites?” Her giggle would make me want to punch her in the face if she wasn’t my favorite female in the world.
“Quite the coincidence, bestie.” My eyes narrow as she flips her hair over her shoulder with too much delight for it to be anything but for show. “What. Did you. Do?” I ask, my breath coming out in heaves between the words.
She shrugs one bare shoulder, and it’s then I zoom my brain’s focus out and realize the hussy is in her bathtub, the camera’s view cutting off right above her nipples.
She has great boobs. It was Vi who talked me into getting mine enhanced when she couldn’t say enough good things about what her augmentation did for her self-confidence. While it did do wonders for my willingness to flash people, it didn’t have quite the miraculous effect on my psyche I’d hoped for. Which did a lot to help me understand my lack of self-esteem had less to do with my body image than I first believed.
“Ooh, nothing. I was just having lunch with Twyla yesterday, and we stumbled upon the subject of different public scenes that have taken place at the club recently. And you know as well as I do that when public scenes at Club Alias is the subject of conversation, a certain Master of forced orgasms always comes up in the discussion,” she says, making her eyes extra wide with innocence.
I growl at her. “That may be true, dear, sweet friend of mine, but how the hell did that lead to me getting a friend request from a Dom who likely didn’t know I even existed before he sent said request?”
Her grin takes over her entire face before she tries and fails to mask it. “I did not break any best-friend codes. I didn’t reveal any secrets you’ve specified to keep between us. You’ve made it clear in our little circle that if there was one Dom you’d smash if ever given the chance, it would be Sir Jeremy.”
“One does not smash Sir Jeremy, Vi. Tis Sir Jeremy who does all the smashing. And—”
“Anywaaay!” she cuts me off. “When he came up in the conversation, I mentioned to Twyla that you and I were just talking about him and how pouty you got when I reconfirmed I have no idea who he is nor have access to Club Alias member personal information. That’s when our adorable confidante Facetimed her husband right then and there and gave him the most precious puppy-dog eyes through thick-framed glasses I’ve ever seen.”
Okay, now I’m less panicked and more on the edge of my seat.
“What did she tell Seth?” I ask anxiously, wondering what the tech genius behind Club Alias and all its security had to say in response to his wife.
“She made a request for him to contact Sir Jeremy to see how one would go about setting up a scene with him. After Seth had an absolute shit-fit thinking Twyla was inquiring for herself—which was quite comical, seeing as she literally gave him her V-card and has never been with anyone else, nor has any desire to—she informed him it was our sub friend who has only had one Dom. She told him the sub had never been unowned before this, since her first Dom was her now ex-husband, and that Sir Jeremy is the only Dom who piqued her interest at the club. And that’s when Seth had the brilliant idea to have Sir Jeremy contact the sub on the club’s social media site, so he could answer her questions directly instead of playing a very kinky game of telephone through multiple people.” She giggles. “Would that technically be a telephone orgy?”
I swallow thickly, ignoring her question. “And that’s when you guys told Seth it was me?”
She snorts out a laugh and shakes her head. “Didn’t have to. He was a child prodigy, remember? An actual, honest-to-God mastermind—no BDSM pun intended. He took that little bit of information and combined it with what he’s observed at the club and knew straight away it was you.”