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Authors: Desiree Holt

Interlude

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A Total-E-Bound Publication

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Interlude

ISBN #978-1-907010-28-6

©Copyright Desiree Holt 2009

Cover Art by Lyn Taylor ©Copyright June 2009

Edited by Michele Paulin

Total-E-Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing.

Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents
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Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2009 by Total-E-Bound Publishing 1 The Corner,Faldingworth Road , Spridlington, Market Rasen, Lincolnshire ,LN8 2DE ,UK .

Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated
Total-e-burning.

INTERLUDE

Desiree Holt

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Dedication

For Carol Lynne, who got me here in the first place

Chapter One

Lisa Graham wanted to stomp her foot in frustration. Sometimes, life was not fair. No, sometimes, life really sucked. Big time.

She’d barely survived the day from hell in the office, snagged her last pair of pantyhose on the edge of a desk drawer, spilled coffee on a freshly printed document and had her foot stepped on in a crowded elevator. With her car in the service shop, all she wanted was to grab a cab to take her home, fall into a bubble bath and drink the rest of the bottle of wine left in the refrigerator.

Alone.

She was through with wasting her time with losers. Men, who came on strong, promised the earth but then were only concerned with themselves and their own pleasure. She couldn’t remember the last time a man she’d been with had been concerned with
her
orgasm.
Her
pleasure.
Her
feelings.

It was her own fault, she supposed, for choosing badly. After Jason, she’d decided to stop choosing at all. She and her collection of dildos could entertain her just fine, thank you, without worrying about some man’s fragile ego. Was it too much to ask that men think of
her
once in a while?

Not to mention the fact that she couldn’t seem to find one who was willing to indulge her fantasies. Oh, yeah, she had fantasies. Plenty of them. Some of them were so erotic she blushed just thinking about them. And it seemed that was all she would ever get to do. Just think about them.

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She sighed as the elevator reached the ground floor with a slight
thump!
and disgorged everyone into the lobby. The bath and wine were looking better and better.

She emerged from her office building to find that her bad luck only continued. The skies had opened up, delivering a pouring rainstorm. Her umbrella barely withstood the wind, and every cab that passed was occupied. Life was not being kind to her. Of course, being five-foot-two didn’t help when everyone else shouting for cabs was considerably taller and much larger than her petite figure. How was a driver to see her when people rudely shoved her out of the way?

After twenty futile minutes on the sidewalk, she wanted to just lie down on the wet concrete and cry.

A man brushed against her, hurrying past, and when she turned to spit a curse at him, she saw him opening the heavy oak door to the little bar next to her office building. The sign over the door read
Interlude
in discreet lettering
.
In fact, the whole thing was so low key, she realised she’d never noticed it was there in all the time she’d worked in the building. Maybe what she needed to settle herself was a drink. By then, the worst of the rush hour should be over, and she could finally find a taxi. And what could it hurt?

Keeping the umbrella over her head until the last possible minute, she wrestled open the heavy door and stepped inside. As she shook the water from the umbrella and snapped it closed, she took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim interior.

The bar was small. Cosy. The only lighting came from brass sconces set into the richly panelled walls.

Thick carpeting covered the floor, and an oak bar sat against one wall of the L-shaped room. She noticed that, strangely, there were no tables, only high-backed booths with curtains that could stay open or be closed. They lined the wall and followed the shape of the room.

Every stool at the bar was taken by people engrossed in their drinks. The booths all seemed occupied as well, some of them with their curtains discreetly drawn.

Hmmm. Lisa wondered what that was all about. Secret business meetings? Lovers taking refuge from the storm? No matter. There just didn’t seem to be a place for her. Sighing, she was about to turn and plunge back into the rain when a man in the furthest booth raised his hand and waved to her.

She squinted in the dimness. Was it someone she knew? She could barely make out the thick black hair and square-jawed face. No. Not familiar. But he waved again, and she thought,
What the hell.
She’d had plenty of fantasies about strange men. Maybe this was her chance to indulge herself. Tentatively, she made her way back to the booth.

“Do I know you?” she asked, frowning, as she stood in front of him.

He smiled, displaying even white teeth. A tiny dimple winked at the left corner of his sensual mouth.

“Not yet. But you definitely look like someone who could use a drink, and as you can see, I’m wasting this booth sitting here by myself. Can I persuade you to join me?”

As Lisa ran her eyes over him, an unexpected wave of lust raced through her body. Her nipples hardened and liquid seeped into her crotch. Pulses began to throb in the most improbable places.

“Indulge me,” he said, his tone coaxing. “It isn’t often a beautiful woman walks through that door alone.”

“That’s quite a line,” she told him.

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“No line. You
are
beautiful. And very tempting. Come on. One drink. What can it hurt?”

What can it hurt, indeed?

“Okay. Yes.” The words popped out of her mouth before she could think. “Thank you.”

The booth was curved, giving its occupants even more privacy. He stood, gesturing for her to slide in.

She bit her lip, thinking she’d be safer on the outside then changed her mind.
In for a penny, in for a
pound
, she thought.

He took her umbrella from her and stuck it against the back edge of the booth before sitting down next to her.

“You should take off that wet jacket,” he told her. “You don’t want to catch cold.”

The jacket really wasn’t made to take off. The blouse she wore was a very sheer silk, a secret touch of femininity beneath the very business-like navy suit, along with the lacy bra and the barely-there bikini panties.

“I’m fine,” she told him. “Thanks.”

“I’d feel very remiss if I allowed you to get sick while in my company.” His deep voice was like warm chocolate syrup. “Let me help you. Besides, I want a better chance to appreciate your body. I think it was made to drive men crazy.”

She laughed nervously. If this was a line, she wanted to hear more. And there was something about this man that ratcheted up all her senses.

Holding her gaze with his, his lean fingers unbuttoned the jacket and slipped it from her shoulders. His eyes dropped at once to her breasts, and she knew he could see the darkness of her nipples beneath the thin fabric covering. His devouring gaze made heat crawl up her face.

“Gorgeous,” he murmured then lifted his gaze to her face. “Breasts made to cradle in a man’s palm, and nipples just begging for his mouth. You must have men fighting to suckle them.”

“Oh!” She was stunned. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had paid her breasts compliments.

Or any other part of her body. They all wanted to know what she thought of
them.

“And what magnificent green eyes. Like emeralds. My favourite jewel, you know?””

“Thank you.” She didn’t know what else to say. Besides the compliments taking her by surprise, she wasn’t used to people being this personal after only five minutes.

“What would you like to drink?” he asked, signalling the lone waiter.

She started to order wine then decided, if she was going to have an adventure, this was too tame.

“Vodka stinger, please,” she told him.

Under the table, she eased off the four-inch heels she wore each day to give herself some height. They were soaked from the rain and would probably be a bitch to get back on. Sighing, she wiggled her toes
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then unfastened the clip that held back her hair and shook it loose, running her fingers through it.

Freedom
, she thought, taking a deep breath to relax.

The man next to her sifted a few strands of her hair through his fingers. “Your hair is like silk, you know?” he continued. “I love the colour sable.” His fingertips trailed over her cheek. “My luck has sent me a real treat on this miserable night.”

The drink appeared, and she took a long greedy sip of the ice-cold liquid. “Yum,” she said, licking her lips. “Just the way I like it.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before,” the man said.

She shook her head. “This is the first time I’ve been inside here. In fact, I don’t think I’ve even been aware of this place before. I’m usually in a rush to get home.”

“Oh?” He lifted one eyebrow. “Someone waiting for you?”

“No.” Oh, wait. Should she have said she had a roommate, who would be looking for her? A built-in safety factor?

“No, just a bubble bath and a glass of wine. I usually drive to work, but my car’s out of commission.

And tonight, with the rain, cabs are very hard to come by. Then I noticed a man coming in here and decided to have a drink until rush hour was over and I could more easily get a taxi.”

“Then I give thanks to the rain,” he said, “for bringing you in here. By the way, we should probably introduce ourselves. I’m Mark.”

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