Tawny Taylor
Copyright ©2011 Tawny Taylor
This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience.
Chapter 1
Despite everything Jan Thompson had read, she’d come to the conclusion that there was no such thing as comfortable latex fetish wear. But it made her look fierce, and on a night like tonight, she was willing to pay the price for beauty.
It was Game Night.
More importantly, tonight, she was going to play, instead of watching by the sidelines.
Jan smoothed her hands down her latex-covered thighs, relishing the sensation of her palms gliding over the steel gray material. Sin.
This was one special dress, purchased specifically for this special night. Atsuko Kudo. Couture. Finely crafted, and so chic that even she couldn’t feel like a plain-Jane wearing it.
After one final makeup check in the mirror, Jan, the invisible-secretary-turned-fetish-princess slipped her feet into the fierce black six-inch spike-healed pumps she’d bought last week and practiced her walk across her living room floor.
She was nervous as hell, but ready. Plucked, groomed, shaved.
Tonight she would be playing Triple Stud, a game that was nothing like the card game. At Bastet’s Game Night, Triple Stud was played by a whole different set of rules.
Her hands trembled, heart raced, as anticipation charged through her body the entire drive to the party. Tonight’s gathering was being held on a very large and private estate in a western suburb of Detroit. The property was owned by one of the area’s most notorious bachelors.
Notoriously good looking.
Notoriously wicked.
Notoriously rich.
And notoriously insatiable.
Jan had never dreamed she’d score an invitation to a party at Hayden Ross’ place. Even as the long, winding drive took her deeper into the heavily-wooded lot, she had to keep reminding herself that this was real. That she was about to meet people she’d only read about in the papers or watched on tv. Among the party’s attendees would be local film, music, and television celebrities, as well as powerful men holding government positions and running large companies.
She pulled up to the front of a gorgeous house, poised and stately and surrounded by lush gardens on both sides. Charged up with nervous energy, she put her car into park, dropped her hands into her lap, and took a couple of slow, deep breaths. Hands clutched, she watched the valet dash around the front of her vehicle and open the door.
Out of the car, up the front steps, and to the door she went. She tried to hide her shaking hands by clamping them tightly around her tiny clutch, but she lost the battle the minute she stopped in front of the massive man posted at the front door. The hand-written card that served as her invitation slipped between her fingers and floated on the soft evening breeze, landing silently on the brick porch.
The doorman bent over, snatched up her invitation and checked it against the list he kept in a leather binder. After receiving a curt nod, she headed inside.
If the exterior of the house had been impressive, the interior was beyond words. Never had she been in such a grand home, full of gleaming stone and glittering crystal. To her left arched a wide, sweeping staircase, and directly in front of her was a formal dining room with the most interesting mirrored ceiling. Cut in concentric rings, broken up by spoke-like beveled lines, the ceiling lent the room a classy glitter. The soft light of the candlelight flickering on the table danced on its surface, gold and red.
Just being in this place made her feel special, like she was stepping onto a stage and taking on a character, a role. No longer was she Jan Thompson, thirty-something secretary and all around nice girl. She was...Jecelyn, the latex goddess.
Oh, God. Someday she’d laugh at herself for this. She just knew it.
A man dressed in a pair of snug black