eBook Details

Silver Bells and Straps

Series: Whipped Dreams
By: Nevea Lane | Other books by Nevea Lane
Published By: Shara Azod, LLC
Published: Jan 01, 2013
ISBN # 9781300495451
Word Count: 19,000
Heat Index     
Eligible Price: $2.99

Available in: Adobe Acrobat, HTML, Mobipocket (.prc), Rocket, Epub

Categories: Romance>Erotic Romance


Silver Bells and Straps (Whipped Dreams) by Nevea Lane - Romance>Erotic Romance eBook

Athena Divan had her own company, her own apartment in New York, a healthy appetite and a secret. Gerard Bourdain had his own company, his own apartment in New York, a restless spirit and a secret. These two had butted heads in the board room, but they were about to find they had a lot more in common when their secrets collide at the Black Tie bondage club. The only thing is, Athena was Mistress Minerva. She knew who he was, but Gerard was in the dark about her secret identity. Would she take the opportunity to have a bit of revenge at Gerard’s expense? Of course. Yet, could she keep herself in check and not step over the line and jeopardize her identity?
Reader Rating:   0.0 Not rated (0 Ratings)
Sensuality Rating:   Not rated
As if it weren’t bad enough the meeting was scheduled for eight a.m., Athena realized it was on the other side of town in the bourgeois retail district she loathed. Her perfume line had done quite well without her having to resort to dancing to the tune of the privileged. She was proud of her “Every Woman” line of captivating scents that didn’t appeal just to the upper class, but the middle and lower class as well.

Pulling her cream-colored Chrysler 300 into the heated parking garage of the four-story retail shop, she told herself to breathe and put on her business mask. She’d learned a long time ago that, when dealing with people who had no idea what she was really about, it was best to give them something easier to swallow before showing them her fierce “lionista,” as her friend called it.

Agreeing to a meeting with the infamous, ruthless, influential and arrogant Gerard Bourdain had been a knee-jerk reaction. She was preparing for the busiest time of the year for her; holiday sales were always hectic and stressful. Perhaps a part of her felt a bit of help from a national boutique chain would give her just the boost she needed to expand her warehouse and lab. A chemist by degree and a diva by profession, her heart swelled at the idea of expanding her line nationally and eventually globally. At best, she’d hoped to stop him from hounding her, as her friends and colleagues had told her he’d taken to visiting the shops where her products were sold.

She checked her makeup in the rearview mirror and gave her signature smile. That smile was the logo of the company. It hitched in one corner, showing only a few teeth. Her mother had taught her a smile should reveal nothing but promise everything. Sighing, she recited the words she had told herself ten years ago when she started this adventure.

“Athena Divan, you’ve got what it takes. You’ve got the heart. You’ve got the guts. You’ve got the sass, and you’ve got the boots to match.” Athena slipped on her partially tinted shades, grabbed her black clutch purse and stepped out of the car.

As she walked through the lobby of the boutique, she took a long look at how the wealthy shopped. Ceiling to floor windows were covered with Venetian blinds and valances. The floors were white-and-cream marble, with gold flecks shining in the early morning light that peeked through the blinds that were opened... Every counter was polished and sparkled like diamonds. The click of her black leather stiletto boots echoed in the near-empty store. She didn’t carry a briefcase. Her mind was equipped for business, and she didn’t need a bunch of notes and papers to know if a deal was good or not. Sly Divan, her father, a pool hall owner and hustler, had taught her that you know when a deal is good when you can look a person in the eye and they don’t waver and they don’t show fear.

In the elevator, surrounded by highly polished brass and marble, Athena cleared her throat and smoothed her black sheath dress into symmetrical submission. She knew she was ready for this new challenge. As she stepped out of the elevator and walked toward the corporate offices, she reminded herself that she didn’t need this opportunity—it would just be nice to have a bit of help during the holiday rush. The point of this meeting was to see what the Bourdain Boutiques were offering and to walk out with her dignity.

She was going to approach the receptionist desk, but the brunette woman that was standing behind the desk, was holding the phone between her shoulder and ear, and speaking quite rapidly. The woman made eye contact with Athena, tried to offer a shaky smile, and pointed at the door. The brunette placed her hand over the receiver, and mouthed ‘Go on in’ and pointed at the door again, before putting the phone back to her ear. She knew all too well what those days used to be like. Shrugging, she walked past the harried receptionist and pressed against the heavy doors.

The boardroom was already occupied. A Goliath-sized man stood at the window, sipping on coffee, staring out at the sunrise. The tailor this man went to must have made a fortune off the perfectly cut suit the man wore. The black fabric was so pure; it almost shone like satin... His broad shoulders were squared as if he stood at attention. Although she’d never met the new CEO of Bourdain Boutiques, she’d heard enough about the former owner to know the son couldn’t have fallen far from the tree. She’d heard Eva Bourdain was the devil dressed in furs. Athena actually let herself smile at the thought. Clearing her throat, Athena made her presence known. If he was startled by her presence, he didn’t show it. He set the coffee cup down on the window ledge, deliberately slowly. Oh, brother, he was one of those. The purposeful movements were meant to put her on the defensive. Little did he know she lived on the defensive.

When he turned, he focused his eyes on her face, not anywhere else. At least he knew how to act in the presence of a woman. While she knew she wasn’t trying to win a pageant, she’d gotten a fair share of appreciative glances and lustful looks. .She was a statuesque black woman with silky raven hair down to her shoulders, with a creamy cocoa complexion, but she was a business woman first. She was glad he kept his eyes focused on her face.

This particular man’s stare was all business. His full lips didn’t move. His square jaw was freshly shaven, and his skin seemed to be set in bronze. It was a hard-lined face—not a hint of laugh lines in the corner of his moss-green eyes. His hair looked as though it had been threatened to stay in place—not a stray black strand stood out of line.

“Mr. Bourdain.” She nodded at him and watched the features of his stone visage. The lines didn’t smooth nor did he smile. Her pulse kicked up, and she ran the tip of her tongue over her top lip. She ate assholes like him for breakfast, and she’d skipped her muffin this morning. Let the games begin.

Silver Bells and Straps

By: Nevea Lane