SEX,LIES AND BONDAGE TAPE a contemporary erotic romance.

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Fitness instructor Kelly Burton is a woman on a mission, and this time it’s sneaking backstage at a rock concert to get super star Clayton Warren's autograph for her friend. What she doesn’t factor in is becoming privy to a big media secret, nor being captured by a sexy security guy who sends her pulse racing.

Backstage security man Tommy Samson’s speciality is sending rogue groupies on their way with a playful spank and a threat, but this woman is responding to his behaviour in an entirely different way and very soon they’re locked in hands-on-combat of an intimate kind, kicking off a sequence of crazy sex games back and forth across London.

When Kelly wants to track Tommy down, she has to resort to being a 'groupie' all over again, shanghaiing Clayton Warren and doing a deal over his big media secret to get hold of Tommy’s contact details. Kelly is a stubborn, independent woman who plays the men at their own games, but it only makes Tommy want more, and what Tommy wants…Tommy goes after.

"The story sizzles from the minute the heroine meets the hero. The love scenes are intense, passionate and well crafted. I found I enjoyed the cat and mouse game between the lead characters, and the way Kelly finally got her man was inspired." 5 Kisses. Cerri, for Romance Divas.

"This is one laugh out loud, shake your head and fan yourself story. Kelly and Tommy start off with an attraction that neither can or want to deny. In addition though, there are a few misconceptions between them. Their sexual encounter involves a little kink, a little sizzle and a little laughter and once it’s over, both have regrets about how it ends. What’s hilarious are the lengths they both go to in order to contact each other again. I enjoyed that Kelly was a strong, outspoken woman who affected those around her in a positive way, leaving a warm feeling to accompany the meltdown from their game of kiss chase…but I won’t give that away, read this keeper! " 5 stars. Trang, for Ecataromance.

"Ms. Walker is undoubtedly one of the queens of erotic romance. She writes steamy, sensual scenes with enough passion and uniqueness to scorch the pages. Her characters are multi-dimensional, with real fears, wants and needs. Ms. Walker does a great job of blending the theme of this two-story anthology with real genuine emotion and a fulfilling plot. The dialogue rings true, and as the story progresses, Kelly and Tommy become even more likeable as they discover things about one another and about themselves that they never expected. From the very first page, the story captivates, bringing readers fully into the rock concert setting and imbuing the atmosphere with that same level of sensual energy that lasts until the very end." 4.5 blue ribbons. Bella Marie, for Romance Junkies.

"Well, words practically escape me. SEX, LIES, AND BONDAGE TAPE is positively sizzling. Two hot bodies and some bondage tape certainly set an erotic tone that starts from the first page and doesn't let up. Tommy and Kelly are both type-A people who go after what they want and, in this case, what they want is each other. Woe to anyone who stands in their way!" Phillipa Ann, for Romance Reviews Today


Kelly lookalike

Elation hit her as she descended the stairs. She’d made it backstage. Glancing in either direction, she saw what looked like dressing rooms lined up to her right and darted that way, looking at the numbers on the doors as she passed. Clayton would be designated room one, surely? Behind her, she heard voices.

“Did you see someone make it through?” a voice shouted behind her.

Had one of the security guys spotted her after all? She oughtn’t to be down here, but the urge to do something crazy had her firmly in its grip. She hurried on, gratified to see the numbers descending as she passed the doors. The door to room two was ajar, voices and laughter emerging from inside. She slowed down and walked past, glancing in with a nonchalant smile. Two or three members of the opening band were in there, busy with the press and beer.

Tommy lookalike When she got to the room marked number one, she paused and put her ear to the door. All quiet. It could be the place, or it could be the manager’s office for all she knew. She heard running footsteps echoing down the corridor behind her.

Turning the handle, she stepped inside, trying to gauge whether it was Clayton’s dressing room. A rail of clothes stood in one corner. On the other side a dressing table was strewn with make up equipment, glasses and a half drunk bottle of champagne. The room smelt of expensive male cologne.

Above her, the ceiling thumped with bass driven rock. The encore was in its final throes. A second shout echoed down the corridor outside. Definitely security, and now she was in here there was no going back, she hadn’t come this far to miss her opportunity. She shot behind the clothes rail. Luckily it was in a dark corner, because the few items on there didn't give much cover.

The door opened. She shut her eyes and held her breath. A moment later, she heard voices and footsteps echoing away. When she opened her eyes she noticed the door was still ajar. The music upstairs had stopped. Noise was gathering in the corridor outside. Her chance to get Clayton’s autograph and put a smile on Jojo’s face was on its way. When the door was pushed wide open and Clayton himself walked in, her mood was triumphant.

He paced across the room towards her hiding place, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he walked, obviously still wired from his performance. His hair was pushed back over his head, damp and clinging to his skull, his leather pants molded to his warm body. She could see the sweat glistening on his naked torso. She bit her lip, smiling to herself — if Jojo could see him now she’d have an orgasm on the spot. He looked hot, although personally she preferred men with more meat on their bones.

People spilled into the room behind him, a couple of the musicians and lots of other faces, men and women. Oh joy. She hadn’t figured there would be so many extras in the entourage. This could make getting Jojo’s autograph complicated.

One guy seemed to be taking charge, pushing the extras back out into the corridor. “Listen up everyone,” he shouted. “Clayton needs a little time to shower and change before we hit the town and party.” A cheer went up when he mentioned the word ‘party.’ “Give him ten minutes and he’ll be right there.”

The guy was tall, but lean like Clayton, his limber body perfectly outlined in faded jeans and a leather jacket over a khaki t-shirt. When he’d convinced all the hangers-on to get out, he shut the door and looked back over at Clayton. Clayton was still facing her way but he was smiling, as if he knew what was going on behind him. “Nice job, Jay,” he commented.

The other man walked over and stood behind him. “That’s what I’m here for.”

Clayton’s grin grew. “Is it?”

Kelly swallowed, realization hitting her. She was now stuck in a very personal moment. As if to prove the point, the guy called Jay put one possessive hand around Clayton’s bare chest, locking in behind him, his mouth descending to Clayton’s shoulder.

Kelly watched in amazement as the guy bared his teeth and bit into Clayton’s shoulder. Clayton wasn’t complaining though, in fact when the other guy’s hand moved down to his belt, he shut his eyes and groaned aloud. The sound was definitely pleasured, sexual. Clayton Warren is gay? Clayton’s hand locked over Jay’s, forcing it lower, into the zipper area. He definitely wasn’t fighting the other guy off.

She tried not to look but couldn’t help herself. She was riveted. The image of the two men locked together like that was so hot. Her pulse was pounding, her body humid. Her hair clung to her neck, making her long to swipe it away. Jay’s hand moved, to the button, then the zipper. Oh my god. Kelly pressed back into the shadows. She was a mere three feet away from them, and they were so into it they had no clue.

The sound of the zipper lowering was loud, hellish loud, and slow — each tooth snapping free. Then Clayton’s cock was out and being expertly handled by the other guy. He smoothed his hand over it, drawing back the foreskin in even, practiced strokes.

Clayton’s head dropped back, his body arched. His hips jutted forward and his mouth opened, his teeth bared. What a sight. His cock was fully erect and then some, a drop of semen gathering on its tip as Jay worked the shaft. He must have been hard already, in expectation of this after-show treat.

Arousal soared through her, arousal and embarrassment. How the hell had she got herself into this? She swore silently, ruing her urge to go autograph hunting. She’d now got herself stuck in a live man-on-man sex show and was privy to one of the best-kept secrets in rock. Despite all the press coverage featuring him and numerous attractive women, pin-up-boy Clayton Warren had a male lover. And right now she had an eyeful of their intimate behavior.

“Oh yeah, I need this,” Clayton grunted. His cock was dark red with blood, fit to burst.

She pressed back against the wall. How do I get out of here? Just then there was a knock at the door, and it opened. Hope leapt inside her.

“Sorry, Clayton,” a voice declared, “but I think we’ve got a groupie on the loose.”

A groupie? They had to be talking about her. Her heart sank to her boots. Jesus, could this get any worse? Panic began to bite into her.

Jay moved away from Clayton, turning towards the voice. The guy at the door was huge. Over Clayton’s shoulder, she could see him give a reassuring nod to Jay. “I’m on the case, but I thought Clayton would rather know.”

“Sure thing, Tommy,” Clayton replied, hauling his zipper shut. With no small effort, she couldn’t help noticing.

Sweat had now gathered in her cleavage. The combination of arousal and panic was causing chaos inside her, threatening to unhinge her. She wanted to bolt for the door, push past the big bloke and make a run for it. The remaining shred of sense she owned told her that would be the wrong thing to do.

A moment later, the big bloke ducked out and Clayton stalked over to the dressing table. Jay joined him and she could hear reassuring murmurs, but Kelly’s attention was now focused on something else entirely — the door to the corridor that had been left open. Could she make it?

Clayton and Jay were facing away, which would give her a head start. Go girl, you can do it. She counted to three, took a deep breath and then shot out of her hole. Scrambling through the clothes and skidding across the floor she grabbed the doorframe, rounded the corner — and ran straight into a wall of muscle.

Stunned, her eyes shut and then opened, cautiously. Peeking upwards, she recognized the granite jaw of the security guard. Oh joy, I’ve run straight into him. One large, powerful hand clamped against her back, winding her as he locked her in against him.

He gave a husky laugh, keeping her pinned close to him. “Not so fast, little lady.”

Looking up, she saw the stubble on his chin, twinkling eyes and thick, dark blonde hair that fell across his forehead. She couldn’t help noticing he was a particularly fit looking specimen of a man, even if he did have her locked in a vice. Under different circumstances, she might have bought him a drink.

Coughing, she wiggled her crushed boobs free, trying to make a point. She was a bona fide ticket buyer; she couldn’t be treated this way. Could she? She stomped her foot on the floor, the only part of her body that she could actually move. “Let me go, I only wanted an autograph for a friend.”

“That’s what they all say.” He lifted her bodily, leaving her feet dangling. “Groupie hunt over,” he bellowed along the corridor.

His voice rumbled through her chest, making her pulse race. Perplexed at the effect he had on her, she prodded him with the finger he had jammed against his pecs. “How dare you. I’m not a groupie.”

He looked down at her with amusement, green eyes narrowed with interest. He had a wide smile, teasing.

“Nice job, Tommy.” It was Clayton and he was behind her.

She glanced back and then peered up at the big guy, beseechingly, hoping he wouldn't reveal that she’d just shot out of Clayton’s dressing room.

“Give her hell, Tommy,” Jay’s voice announced. “She’s all yours, call it a perk of the job.”

Kelly’s jaw dropped. He couldn’t mean it?

Without warning, the big guy laughed, lifted her and threw her over his shoulder. Winded, she clutched at the back of his t-shirt for a sense of balance, her world spinning. He had her in a fireman's lift and there was nothing she could do about it. Voices and laughter from further down the corridor assured her others were watching the whole embarrassing scene. Her boobs were spilling out of her bra, her bottom stuck in the air for all to see. And yet...somehow the idea of being trapped by the big guy got to her. Sexually. She heated through in a flash and then whimpered, clutching at his massive, muscled back.

He stroked the back of her leather-clad thighs with one warm hand.

That felt good, really good, and the way he had her positioned her leather hipsters were pulled tight into her pussy, driving her crazy. Focus, she told herself. You might be in an intensely physical and compromised situation, but be sensible and use your head. “Okay, it was wrong of me to come down here,” she admitted, waving one hand. “But I only wanted an autograph for a friend. I didn’t mean to do anything bad, honestly.”

“Oh, but you did. You were a naughty girl and you’ll be punished.” He gave a rumbling laugh and then set off. His hands were locked tight around the back of her thighs; her boobs were almost out of her top now and she felt as if the whole world was looking at her.

The corridor shifted in her vision and two pairs of feet came into view – presumably Clayton and Jay. “You can’t be serious,” she pleaded, forcing her head up, looking at the two men who watched on with amusement as she was carried off like some primeval caveman’s prize. “I don’t deserve to be treated like this.” That seemed to make them laugh even more. They had to be kidding. She was about to beg to be put down when she was smacked across the bottom by one large hand.

“Bad girl,” her captor bellowed, chuckling to himself.

Any notion of using her head was lost in an instant. Heat leapt out from the spot he’d spanked, spreading across the top of her thighs and shooting deep, right into her core. Her heart had missed a beat; she struggled for breath. She shuddered and moaned, her clit tingling with heat. Liquid fire poured out of her, and her body went boneless with lust, falling limp over his shoulder. She clutched at him with trembling fingers, her mind echoing with the primitive call of instinctive need: take me, use me, fill me.


Want to know where the idea for this story came from?
I posted about it on The Idea Boutique. Click HERE to read the post.

Please note this story originally appeared in the KINK anthology with Sasha White's story WATCH ME. Penguin, Berkley Heat. ISBN: 0425213994

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