Whet Your Appetite Wednesday

My mother jumped on the "Fifty Shades" Band wagon. We had a conversation about how I've been writing this stuff for many years before Fifty became a household name. I gave my mom a few of my friends books for Christmas to show her, there are better books out there.
To my surprise she informed me that she read Submit With Me over the holiday's and she enjoyed it. Thanks Mom! :o) Yeah, yeah, yeah...I know, Mom is bias.

It just so happens it's my Whet Your Appetite this week. Here's a taste.

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Blurb:

Rena is on a quest to get laid and she’s willing to go to any length to fulfill her need.

Marc has a thirst for a submissive. He longs to find someone he can bring to the edge of ecstasy and rein back in before an orgasm. He wants to tie, tease and torture his submissive, pushing the limits of sexual awareness.

 When he offers Rena five hundred dollars to be his sub for the night, he gets more than he bargained for. This spitfire is about to show him a thing or two about submitting.

Excerpt:

Rena had one goal in mind—to get laid. Taking a long drag off the straw nestled in her fruity drink, she scanned the smoke-filled bar for a potential mark. Tonight she didn’t care about getting to know someone. No, tonight she only cared about filling the void in her aching pussy.
“Damn,” she cursed under her breath. Tables were full with happy couples, either enjoying drinks or dinner. Soft jazz played in the background. Normally Rena enjoyed the lazy tempo, but not tonight. She was too busy looking for someone to fill her need. Her desire. Rena’s pussy ached to be fucked. Glancing around the haze, she shook her head. Not one guy in the place looked eligible. She considered going to another bar but decided against it. Not many bars offered rooms above them for the clients to rent by the hour. No, this was the place where she intended to find the man to make her pussy sing. Besides, the patrons were upper-class and the bar had a reputation for only allowing in respectable people. Safe. That was the reason she was here and wouldn’t go anyplace else.
Staring into the mirror behind the bar, she gave the room another scan. Still nothing. She couldn’t believe there wasn’t one man desirable enough to give her the relief she craved.

She emptied her drink. Maybe it was best if she called it a night. Obviously she wasn’t getting laid tonight.
As Rena stepped off the barstool, her face came into contact with one broad chest. She glanced up to stare into the most exquisite blue eyes she’d ever seen.
“Leaving so soon?” he asked in a husky voice.
“Just going to powder my nose,” she lied.
“I didn’t think women did that any longer.”
“I’m not just any woman.” Rena winked. “I’m every man’s wish come true.” Leaving him standing there, mouth agape, she headed toward the bathroom.
He ordered her a new drink when she shimmied onto the stool.
“Thanks for the drink.” She didn’t bother to look at him, but she caught him watching her in the mirror.
“My pleasure.”

Rena couldn’t help herself, she smiled.
He was gorgeous, dressed in tight-fitting denims and a painted-on black tee , muscles bulging from under the short sleeves.
“Come here often?” Lame. She hated pickup lines, so why was she using one on him?
He laughed a hearty laugh.
“Actually the first time.”
Hmm. A first timer.
“So what brings you here tonight?”
“I’m looking for a little action.”

“What kind of action?” Maybe the same kind she was looking for? A “wham bam thank you ma’am” kinda night?
“Nothing you’d be interested in, I’m sure.”
“And what makes you so sure I’m not interested in your kind of action?” Insult dripped from her voice.
“Just a gut feeling.”
“Are you saying I’m too prim and proper for you?”
He shrugged indifferently.
“Try me, I’ll bet I surprise you.”
He shook his head no.
Are you fucking serious? He was turning her down? No fucking way. This was not the way she had planned this night. She was determined to get laid and Mister Muscles fit the bill.

“Let me guess, you’re looking to get laid—no strings attached?”
He didn’t flinch when she blurted out the statement.
Instead he stood, reached deep into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash.
“You think you can handle my action?”
He slapped a hundred-dollar bill on the bar.
“I’m offering you one hundred dollars to be my slut for the night.”
She almost choked on her drink.
“See, I knew you wouldn’t be able to handle it.” He sat back down.
She laughed.

“What’s so funny?”
“That you think one hundred dollars is enough. Make it five and I’ll be Mary Fucking Poppins if you want.”