Among other things, this new effort has a slight comedy adventure/mystery tinge. But at the same time there's still lashings of bare flesh plus only one naked/enf situations. And I hope you like the story's cute teen heroine.
Anyway, the good news is that I'm now firmly back in the writer's seat, and I'm already well under way with my next eBook, so hopefully this time it won't be too long a wait before it sees the light of day.
Here's the gist of my latest story, and read an excerpt below which introduces a fun subsidiary character, the posh, unscrupulous Arabella:
It's her first nude photo shoot. The setting: a remote beauty spot. Gorgeous teen model Tasha is understandably nervous to be baring all in front of a photography class made up of eccentrics and oddballs. And it doesn't help her jitters when the group comes under attack from a mysterious assailant. Mixing action, comedy and mystery with acres of bare flesh, A NUDE TO A KILL is the long-awaited return of Cassie Caine, author of ONLY ONE NAKED and ADVENTURES OF A NUDE ART MODEL.
Novella: 26,500 words
Clutching
to her chest the glossy, luxuriously bound presentation folders that
were going to transform all their fortunes, Arabella glanced
anxiously at her watch. Despite the emotions boiling within her, she
cut a cool, elegant figure. Slender and fair, she sported an Yves
Saint-Laurent pencil skirt and a sleeveless blouse with just a hint
of sheerness around the neckline. Her sleek ponytail showed off the
aristocratic bones of her face, which framed a pair of steady grey
eyes and a mouth which would have looked decidedly luscious if it
weren't compressed with steely determination.
She'd
only been standing there a few moments when she heard another car
approaching. She readied a smile, then let her pretty face slip back
to neutral as she recognised the dusty Volvo estate that pulled up
alongside her immaculate sports car.
The
man who jumped out didn't seem at all put off by the lack of welcome.
“Today's
the day,” he said, flashing a big, horsey grin at her.
“Don't
you have a better suit?”
“Sorry,
love, you know dressing to impress isn't in my skill set. I leave
that kind of thing to you.”
Arabella
glanced at him critically. Gavin was her man on the council, the
person who greased the wheels and smothered discord before it even
began. All for a healthy backhander of course. And as the owner of
The Robin and Wren tavern just down the road, he stood to gain big
time from increased foot traffic to the area. She knew for a fact
that he already had plans to expand the premises and bring in a
celebrity chef.
In
his mid thirties, he was handsome in a crude, thuggish kind of way. A
messy divorce and an alcohol problem hadn't stopped him from keeping
lean and fit by playing soccer, although the drinking had left
premature lines on his long, bony face. Like most men, he thought he
was charming, but he had no idea how cheap he looked in that rumpled,
off the peg suit and thin, stringy tie.
“So
this is it?” He took one of the presentation folders. Flipping
through the thick, creamy pages, he inclined his head towards her.
She thought he was going to say something about the quality of the
printing. Instead, scarcely lowering his voice, he confided, “I
could totally fuck the shit out of you right now.”
“Are
you mad? Florian's going to be here any second.”
“No,
he's not. I just got off the phone with him. He's about twenty
minutes behind.”
“Then
we've got time to go over everything again.”
“What
for? You know the spiel back to front: public and private sectors
working hand in hand yadda yadda … Just show him the view and the
folder, then we'll take him back to my place for a champagne lunch.
No need to make a whole song and dance out of it. Come on, let's do
it in the bushes like those doggers you're always going on about.”
“Christ,
you're insane. Haven't you noticed there's a van here too?”
“Tourist
party? Brilliant. Adds to the thrill, doesn't it?”
She
wriggled out of the way as he flopped a long arm over her shoulder.
He laughed, but there was a petulant note in his voice as he said,
“You know, I'm hearing a lot of excuses. Two can play at that game.
Maybe I'll start giving you the runaround the next you phone up
asking me to skirt some byelaw or regulation. I'm just saying that a
wise and powerful businesswoman like yourself might want to keep her
right hand man incentivised.”
He
finished with a chuckle, but there was no mistaking the truculent
cast to his features. Arabella stifled a sigh. The day would come
when she would leave him in her dust, but right now she couldn't
afford to alienate him.
Forcing
a smile, she stepped closer and tugged playfully at his tie,
swallowing a grimace as her fingers registered polyester. Ugh,
seriously? It was like he went out of his way to have no class at all
just to aggravate her.
“You're
right,” she soothed, “maybe it would be fun. To be fair, I think
a bit of loosening up is exactly what I need. What would I do without
you, Gavin?”
“Luckily
for you, you won't have to do without me. I'm not going anywhere, and
nor are you. Apart from into those bushes, that is.”
Taking
her hand, he hurried her through the entranceway. If she was going
to have to have sex with this oik, she'd infinitely prefer to be in a
nice, comfortable suite in a discreet boutique hotel, but Gavin
clearly got off on the danger. She could tell as much from the raging
hard-on that he pressed against her through their clothes as he
backed her up against a tree.
She
gave what she hoped sounded like a delighted gasp, ignoring the
gritty feeling on her back as the bark flaked off on her delicate
silk blouse.
“God,
I've never met anyone who makes me as hard as you,” Gavin muttered
gruffly. “Turn around.”
She
did as commanded. Just in time she braced herself against the tree
with her hands, preventing herself from being thrown forward as he
shoved up her tight-fitting skirt. He squeezed her hard, boyish
bottom through her skimpy lace underpants, then wrapped the gossamer
fabric in his crude fingers and tugged downwards. This time she
couldn't help but to gasp for real as she felt the freshness of
country air and sunlight on her bare backside.
With
a grunt, Gavin unzipped his flies and dropped his trousers, and his
hard, heavy cock thwacked against her cheeks with an audible slap.
Despite herself, Arabella felt a quiver of excitement that made her
dig her fingernails into the tree trunk. She glanced back, and saw
how monstrously swollen – “turgid” was the word that sprang to
mind – his erection was as he rubbed it up and down against the
cleft of her bottom preparatory to shoving it in.
Hunkering
over her, he reached around, feeling for her clitoris. She buckled
forward, and it was then he slipped into her pussy from behind,
making her rise on tiptoe as he ploughed into her with urgent,
jabbing thrusts. It wasn't exactly a flawless technique, but she had
to admit that he got the job done as the world swam before her eyes.
There were a thousand important things she had to remember and fix in
her mind, but they flew off in all directions under the centrifugal
force of this cataclysmic event.
“Tell
me you want me in your mouth,” he growled.
“I
do,” she murmured, not really listening.
“Say
it!”
“I
want you, Gavin!”
“Good
enough!” He guided her down onto her knees, and she found herself
looking up at the polished underbelly of Gavin's cock. She was just
about to open wide when the sound of a car horn rent the air,
followed shortly by the tinkling of Gavin's mobile phone.
“Fuck
me,” said Gavin, “Florian's here.”
“Oh
God!”
The
next moments were filled with undignified scrambling as Gavin yanked
his trousers up and Arabella hopped about trying to get her knickers
back on. She was absolutely mortified. If all went as planned, this
deal with Florian was undoubtedly the most important thing she would
do in her entire life. And now she had potentially blown it, all
because of that brute Gavin and his insatiable cock. She flashed him
a look of pure hatred as she smoothed down her skirt.
“This
is all your fault,” she hissed. “If you've fucked this up for me,
I swear I'll cut your fucking balls off.”
“Calm
down. It'll be fine. Here, let me brush you down, you've got a few
twigs and things on you.”
“Don't
bloody touch me!”
Gavin
raised his eyebrows, then hurried ahead up the steps. “Florian,
mate. Sorry to keep you! We were just checking out a stand of trees
that needs cutting down. Apparently a few passers-by have been using
it for – well, never mind what. How are you, you old mucker?”
Arabella
took a moment to compose herself. Bloody Gavin! Typical of him to
find the whole thing so amusing. But then he didn't really care about
the deal, did he? Not the way she did. Corrupt as he was, money
wasn't really the driving factor in his life. He liked it, but there
was a limit to what he was prepared to do for it. No, he was involved
in this for Arabella's sake. Because how else would a lout like him
get his cloddish hands on a girl like her, a girl of her beauty and
breeding?
In
the long run, though, he must know he couldn't have her. Not to keep.
Well, if he didn't understand that now, he would eventually. The
first chance she got, she'd rid herself of him once and for all.
