Rich Pickings
A Totally Bound Publication
Rich Pickings
ISBN #
978-1-78430-222-1
©Copyright Ashe Barker 2014
Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright September 2014
Edited by Sarah Smeaton
Totally 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, Totally Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorized 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 Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2014 by Totally Bound Publishing,
Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN
Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a
heat rating
of
Totally Melting
and a
Sexometer
of
3.
A Richness of Swallows
RICH PICKINGS
Ashe Barker
Book two in the A Richness of Swallows serial.
She craves control. He demands her naked surrender.
Dan Riche was the one man she hoped never to encounter again, so when she ran into him unexpectedly at a wedding, Summer Jones couldn’t be held responsible for her actions. Except, Dan thinks differently. He intends to punish her for lashing out at him in her frustration, and much to her surprise, Summer intends to let him.
Reunited with her closest friend, Freya, and finding new friends and fabulous opportunities at Black Combe, Summer is soon caught up in a passionate relationship with Dan as he reintroduces her to his powerful brand of kink. He effortlessly awakens all her submissive instincts, and Summer’s resistance crumbles along with her doubts. But even as she responds to Dan, can she leave the shadows of her past behind?
Dan confuses her. He scares her. He makes her do things she never dreamed possible, and she loves all of it. But Summer prefers her life to be tidy, doesn’t she? Where does a turbulent relationship with a fascinating, unpredictable Dom fit in to her ordered existence? He punishes her, hurts her, controls her pleasure, demands her obedience.
Summer always needed to be in control. Now she’s naked, on her knees at his feet. Dan demands her submission. Can she relinquish her fragile hold on her security and trust him instead?
Dedication
This book is dedicated to Hannah and John, as ever, with grateful thanks for their continued patience.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Downton Abbey
: ITV plc/ STV Group plc/ UTV Media plc
Facebook: Facebook, Inc.
Porsche: Porsche AG
Tesco Express: Tesco PLC
Yorkshire Life: Archant Community Media Ltd
Savlon: Novartis International AG
Google: Google, Inc.
Clio: Renault S.A.
Audi: Audi AG
Vanquish: Aston Martin Lagonda Limited
Land Rover Discovery: Jaguar Land Rover Automotive PLC
Ikea: INGKA Holding B.V.
Mini: BMW AG
Barbie: Mattel
iPad: Apple, Inc.
Pizza Express: Cinven
Chapter One
I go back into Dan’s bathroom to clean my teeth and emerge to find the bedroom empty. Unless you count his elegant morning suit hanging on the front of his wardrobe, that is, looking very
Downton Abbey
. I stroll over to it, fingering the sleeve of the long-tailed dark gray jacket. Fine cloth, expensive. I wonder if he hired it, or it’s his own suit. Apart from weddings, there can’t be much call for this sort of thing. The waistcoat, in a lighter gray, hangs inside the jacket, making a striking contrast. The trousers and Dan’s pale blue tie are draped haphazardly across the bed. I instinctively straighten and smooth them, jumping back guiltily as the door opens.
Dan comes in, a tray balanced precariously on one hand and his pristine white shirt hanging from the other. He back-heels the door closed again before depositing the tray on the bedside table. He lays the shirt on top of the trousers, glancing curiously at me as he does so. He probably knows I’ve been moving his things. Just wait until he sees what I just did to his bathroom, not only his toothbrush and shaving gear lined up perfectly, but now all his other toiletries arranged in order of size. It’s a bad habit, I know that. But I can’t seem to help myself. I contemplate nipping back in there to mess things up again but the delicious aroma of toast and bacon assaults my nostrils, and my stomach grumbles noisily. Dan’s smile is wry as I peer eagerly at the tray.
“I knew you’d be hungry. I went down for my shirt and found my little brother on breakfast duty so I relieved him of some supplies. I don’t want you fading away from hunger—I have plans for you. I wasn’t sure what you’d like, but we’ve got toast, bacon, some scrambled eggs, even a few mushrooms I found in the bottom of the oven. I think he was saving those for himself, but life’s a bitch sometimes. Help yourself. Oh, and there’s coffee. Lots of coffee. Are you done in there? I still need to shave.” He heads for the bathroom. So much for trashing it again before he sees it.
In any case, my mouth is watering. This is like being back at Freya’s—she was always bringing me food in the hope of fattening me up. It’s never worked, but I’ve no objection to folk trying.
“Thank you. I’m starving. Shall I share it out?” It doesn’t seem as though he intends to eat with me, but it’s only polite to offer. I’m working on my manners.
“I’ve had mine. I ate at Tom’s before I came back over here. That’s all for you. Barney followed me up here so I daresay he’ll help you out with any leftovers.”
I perch on the side of the bed, and pick up a rasher of bacon. I take a bite and chew happily. Dan’s brought me very generous portions, but my stomach feels as though my throat’s been cut and I doubt there’ll be much left over for this Barney character.
“Who’s Barney? Another friend of Tom’s?” I reach for a fork to shovel up some of the egg.
Dan stops, turns, heads back for the door to the landing. “You must remember Barney. You met him yesterday.” He opens the door and leans out. “Barney! Come on in and say good morning to Summer. You might even part her from a slice of bacon if you look sharp about it.” He glances back at me as a second rasher disappears down my throat. “Or perhaps not…”
I stand, startled. I’m wrapped in just a bath towel, in no state to make polite conversation with new friends. Dan stands back to allow the newcomer in, and I gasp as the dog, which masquerades as a mountain lion, strolls calmly into the room and plonks itself down at Dan’s feet.
I recall seeing him yesterday as I arrived, just before Dan’s unexpected appearance sent every coherent thought from my head. And yes, Rosie did say the massive dog was called Barney. He and Rosie headed off for a walk, then he spent the rest of the evening in her bedroom while the party was going on.
“Idiot mutt. She’s the one with the bacon, not me.” Dan nudges the great hairy monster with his toe as I stare at it.
Up close this…creature is what my gran would have described as built like a brick shit-house. He’s huge. Absolutely fucking gigantic. Dark brown mainly, with some black here and there, his fur is thick and long. His dark brown eyes are gentle enough I suppose, which is certainly a welcome feature. But the sheer size of him is overwhelming. His shoulder comes to waist height on Dan, and I swear the floor shakes as he moves. I can only stare. He seems a lot bigger in here than he did when we were outside on the front steps.
“What. Is. That?”
“That’s Barney. He likes bacon.”
“Is he a dog?” I have my doubts. “Does he eat whole pigs?”
“Yes, he’s a dog. A Newfoundland or maybe St Bernard, with some Great Dane thrown in I reckon. And no, no pigs. He’s civilized. And friendly.” As if to prove the point Dan crouches to sink his hands into the thick ruff of fur around the dog’s neck, rubbing vigorously.
The behemoth responds by rolling onto his back, his massive paws in the air and kicking wildly as Dan rubs his huge chest. I have to admit, Barney doesn’t look dangerous exactly. Even so, I’m unnerved.
Dan stands, and the dog does too. He seems to notice me at last and ambles over to sit in front of me.”
“He likes to have his ears tickled. Like you do.”
“Even so, if you want me to roll on my back with my legs in the air, you have only to ask.”
“How obliging of you, Miss Jones. I’ll remember that. Now, can I leave you two to get acquainted or would you prefer me to shove Barney outside again?”
I’m on the point of asking him to do just that, when Barney takes matters into his own hands. Or would that be paws? He lays his head on the bed, gazing up at me, his expression one that I could only describe as pleading. I’m not daft. I know it’s the bacon that he’s taken a shine to, not me, but I haven’t the heart to have him evicted.
“No, he can stay. I like dogs. It’s just, well, he was a bit of a shock.” I reach out tentatively to pat the huge head.
Barney closes his eyes, his massive tail wagging slowly.
“Good dog. Good Barney.”
I hope.
“Don’t let him on the bed. Or near my suit. I don’t want to be brushing hairs off my trousers all day.” With a final, dazzling smile Dan disappears into the bathroom, leaving me to share my breakfast with a furball the size of a small planet.
Barney and I make short work of the food. He could throw his weight about but he’s a very well-mannered, patient dog, waiting for me to pass him his share. I find myself ruffling the fur on the top of his huge head, which he seems to like. His tail thumps the floor in a slow, contented rhythm. I’m not sure if he’s allowed to lick the plate but decide to let him. I daresay it’ll go in the industrial sized dishwasher down in the kitchen so hygiene won’t be compromised.