Random Thoughts From a Tech Nerd

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Scarlett asked, taking in my pale face and trembling hands.

“Some bloke just walked in here and asked me to have sex with him!”

Uggh! And he’d been all greasy black hair, gold fillings and overgrown ’tache, like an aging porn star. I stifled the urge to throw up.

Shaking her head in disgust, Scarlett rolled her eyes. “Hate to break it to you, precious, but you are working in a brothel, you know.”

“But—”

“But nothing. What the hell did you expect him to ask for, a burger and fries?”

“I kept telling him I was only the receptionist, but he didn’t seem to care. He told me he’d pay extra if he had to.” I fought to calm my racing heart and queasy stomach.

Scarlett’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t look happy. It occurred to me that maybe I should have kept my mouth shut.

“What do you mean extra? How much extra?”

“Um…” I swallowed hard. “Three hundred dollars.”

The temperature in the room plummeted as a blast of ice-cold fury filled the air.

“What!” she screeched. “And you turned him down?”

“But—”

“Jesus Christ!” she hissed and bolted over to the waiting room. “Shit, where the hell is he now?”

My glance flickered toward the door. Scarlett’s followed. For the briefest of moments, I thought she was going to drag him back in and make him apologize for being an insensitive bastard.

Instead her eyes widened in shock. “What! You let him walk out of here? You selfish fucking cow. You mightn’t have wanted him, but what about the rest of us girls? Three hundred bucks and you just let him walk out of here? Jesus! Prue is going to go off her nut when she hears about this.”

Prue was the Madame and owner of Heavenly Pleasures. An outwardly serene woman with immaculate hair, but nonetheless seriously scary with a sinister reputation, not unlike Cruella DeVille on a bad day, and therefore someone I did not want to cross.

“Oh, please don’t say anything,” I begged, on the verge of tears. “Look, I promise if he comes back in, I’ll call you out straight away—before JoJo. Just don’t mention it to Prue. I was just a bit taken aback, that’s all, and didn’t know what to do.”

This part was true. Haggling for sex wasn’t something we’d covered in secretarial college. Maybe it was the look of pure terror on my face or possibly Scarlett was in a rare compassionate mood, but after a moment’s hesitation she stopped scowling, her expression softening in what could well have been pity.

“Okay. I won’t say anything—this time,” came with reluctance. “But of course I’ll expect some more bookings, if you get my meaning.”

Yes—her meaning was loud and clear. She was blackmailing me, but I was in no position to protest. I nodded.

Her mood lightened. “Hey, cheer up, will you? So what if some ugly punter wanted a poke? Jeez, you’re not the first one to have the hard word put on them by some tosser, believe me. Guys come in here, think they’re God’s gift to women and although they know you’re not a worker, it gives them a sick thrill to think they can convince you to drop to your knees for a blow job—even if it is for three hundred dollars.” She threw me a disgusted look and shook her head in disbelief. “I reckon in their pathetic little minds they’re convinced they’ve seduced you with their hot looks and charm. Losers, that’s what they are. Anyway, I suppose it’s probably just as well you didn’t take him up on it.”

“Really?” I brightened, seeing it as a sign I was forgiven.

“Yeah, the girls would have flattened you if you had.”

Oh, God. I felt ill. What on earth had happened to my perfect life?

Two months ago, I had never met or even spoken to a prostitute. Two months ago, I’d had no idea brothels even existed outside the red light district of King’s Cross. Two months ago, I’d thought French, Spanish and Greek were southern Europeans rather than hooker code for certain sexual practices. And two months ago, I’d been happily looking forward to marrying my fiancé, Brad, an up-and-coming lawyer who planned to be the youngest junior partner in the law firm where he worked.

Yes, two months ago my life had all been mapped out before me.

But that was before a day out in the city to catch up with an old friend triggered a series of events that would ultimately bring about my downfall. Yep, it was at that point I can honestly say my life had bit the big one, nose-diving to newly discovered depths of desperation and despair. I was completely screwed and I didn’t have anyone to blame but myself…

Amazon | Barnes & Noble

An unputdownable new story by Jennifer Bene. Packed with an unrelenting darkness, fear, unexepected turns and some sizzling sex scenes.

- Ally's Book Reviews, Goodreads Reviewer

Finally a book labelled as dark that truly is dark. This is the somewhat violent, often twisted and definitely dubious and steamy story of Nicky and Andre. And what a well written, attention holding, mind-blowing story it is.

- Louise Hallett, Goodreads Reviewer

I was afraid. No other reaction was really appropriate as Andre planted one knee on the end of the bed, and I scrambled backward but he caught my ankle and yanked me flat. He was still clothed, sweaty and silent. “Don’t hurt me,” I whispered.

Something in his expression faltered, but then his eyes dropped to my chest and he grabbed my shoulder to turn me onto my side so he could undo the clasp of my bra. He tossed it aside, immediately palming my breasts as he straddled one of my thighs. Thumbs rolling over my nipples, I could barely process that they were already hard and peaked until I felt him tighten his grip and pinch them both.

“FUCK!” I screamed, whimpering as the pain shot like bolts of lightning through my breasts, forcing my back to arch in an effort to ease the strain. But Andre didn’t back off, he twisted them further and I felt tears in my eyes, grabbing onto his shoulders and digging my nails in as if it would make him stop.

Leaning over me, he bit down on my shoulder and I screamed again, pushing at his ribs as he released my tender nipples, and then he had both his legs inside of mine. Spreading me, digging his knees into my thighs so I had no way to stop him, but I could barely focus as his teeth pressed in harder.

“Please, please, please!” I begged, whining when he finally took a breath and released me, his dark eyes staring at the place his mouth had just been. Then he looked between us, and he grabbed my panties, tearing the pale blue fabric as his biceps bulged. The fabric burned against my hips as he ripped it, yanking the remnants out from under me so he could throw it aside. “Andre?”

His name didn’t seem to affect him at all as he slid his fingers between my legs, forcing two of them into me where I wasn’t wet in the least. I whimpered and lifted my hips off the bed, but he ran his thumb over my clit as his mouth moved to my breast, sucking on the tender bud as he stroked me below. For a minute or two, every shift of his fingers seemed to burn and ache, and then my body caught up and started to lubricate around his harsh touch. There was pleasure, and pain, as he opened me up, warming my body for what I knew would come next. It was almost cruel how deft his touch was, the way his thumb swirled over my clit, his mouth sucking and nipping at my breast, sending zings of sensation through my body.

I wanted to fight, and I didn’t. I wanted to give in, and I wanted him to take me by force.

Amazon | Blushing Books

The sudden glare of flashbulbs nearly blinded Jackson as they stepped outside, but it was the immediate change in Julie’s demeanor that snared his attention. Gone was the vain, brittle woman he’d just spent an uncomfortable dinner with and in her place preened a gushing, simpering celebrity putting on airs for the tabloids. Bitterness that rivaled what he’d felt when Federal agents invaded his home and arrested his parents for drug dealing and complicity in a child’s death rolled through him. It wasn’t fair to have his illusions ripped out from under him twice in a lifetime.

Needing to get away, Jackson stepped away from her and hailed the next cab then gave her a quick hug as soon as the reporters left. “Good seeing you again, Julie.” He kissed her forehead and turned, ignoring her as she called after him in a puzzled voice.

“Jackson?”

But as he reached for the handle of the taxi, Jackson held up a finger, bidding him to wait. Spinning back around, he caught a glimpse of confused insecurity on Julie’s face before she masked it behind the façade he’d been staring at all night as he strode over to her. Yanking her against him, he held her head immobile by cupping her nape. Swooping down, he kissed her, fast and hard, refusing to give in to the temptation to linger, to savor, to take more. Her low moan of instant surrender threatened his resolve to walk away, but he forced himself to remember the past hour, the worst he’d spent in her company. Pulling back with a sigh of regret and heavy ache for all he had lost, he drank in her face one last time. “Have a good life, Julie.” Ignoring her astonishment and the arousal in those amethyst eyes, he hopped in the cab and didn’t glance back.

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“What the hell is wrong with you?” Scarlett asked, taking in my pale face and trembling hands.

“Some bloke just walked in here and asked me to have sex with him!”

Uggh! And he’d been all greasy black hair, gold fillings and overgrown ’tache, like an aging porn star. I stifled the urge to throw up.

Shaking her head in disgust, Scarlett rolled her eyes. “Hate to break it to you, precious, but you are working in a brothel, you know.”

“But—”

“But nothing. What the hell did you expect him to ask for, a burger and fries?”

“I kept telling him I was only the receptionist, but he didn’t seem to care. He told me he’d pay extra if he had to.” I fought to calm my racing heart and queasy stomach.

Scarlett’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t look happy. It occurred to me that maybe I should have kept my mouth shut.

“What do you mean extra? How much extra?”

“Um…” I swallowed hard. “Three hundred dollars.”

The temperature in the room plummeted as a blast of ice-cold fury filled the air.

“What!” she screeched. “And you turned him down?”

“But—”

“Jesus Christ!” she hissed and bolted over to the waiting room. “Shit, where the hell is he now?”

My glance flickered toward the door. Scarlett’s followed. For the briefest of moments, I thought she was going to drag him back in and make him apologize for being an insensitive bastard.

Instead her eyes widened in shock. “What! You let him walk out of here? You selfish fucking cow. You mightn’t have wanted him, but what about the rest of us girls? Three hundred bucks and you just let him walk out of here? Jesus! Prue is going to go off her nut when she hears about this.”

Prue was the Madame and owner of Heavenly Pleasures. An outwardly serene woman with immaculate hair, but nonetheless seriously scary with a sinister reputation, not unlike Cruella DeVille on a bad day, and therefore someone I did not want to cross.

“Oh, please don’t say anything,” I begged, on the verge of tears. “Look, I promise if he comes back in, I’ll call you out straight away—before JoJo. Just don’t mention it to Prue. I was just a bit taken aback, that’s all, and didn’t know what to do.”

This part was true. Haggling for sex wasn’t something we’d covered in secretarial college. Maybe it was the look of pure terror on my face or possibly Scarlett was in a rare compassionate mood, but after a moment’s hesitation she stopped scowling, her expression softening in what could well have been pity.

“Okay. I won’t say anything—this time,” came with reluctance. “But of course I’ll expect some more bookings, if you get my meaning.”

Yes—her meaning was loud and clear. She was blackmailing me, but I was in no position to protest. I nodded.

Her mood lightened. “Hey, cheer up, will you? So what if some ugly punter wanted a poke? Jeez, you’re not the first one to have the hard word put on them by some tosser, believe me. Guys come in here, think they’re God’s gift to women and although they know you’re not a worker, it gives them a sick thrill to think they can convince you to drop to your knees for a blow job—even if it is for three hundred dollars.” She threw me a disgusted look and shook her head in disbelief. “I reckon in their pathetic little minds they’re convinced they’ve seduced you with their hot looks and charm. Losers, that’s what they are. Anyway, I suppose it’s probably just as well you didn’t take him up on it.”

“Really?” I brightened, seeing it as a sign I was forgiven.

“Yeah, the girls would have flattened you if you had.”

Oh, God. I felt ill. What on earth had happened to my perfect life?

Two months ago, I had never met or even spoken to a prostitute. Two months ago, I’d had no idea brothels even existed outside the red light district of King’s Cross. Two months ago, I’d thought French, Spanish and Greek were southern Europeans rather than hooker code for certain sexual practices. And two months ago, I’d been happily looking forward to marrying my fiancé, Brad, an up-and-coming lawyer who planned to be the youngest junior partner in the law firm where he worked.

Yes, two months ago my life had all been mapped out before me.

But that was before a day out in the city to catch up with an old friend triggered a series of events that would ultimately bring about my downfall. Yep, it was at that point I can honestly say my life had bit the big one, nose-diving to newly discovered depths of desperation and despair. I was completely screwed and I didn’t have anyone to blame but myself…

Amazon | Totally Bound

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“Go back to your room,” the American tour director ordered, shouting at the woman.

“I can’t get the door to open,” Theia protested, thrusting her key card at him in frustration.

The tour director hurriedly took the proffered card in sweaty hands and tried the lock, which didn’t click. He jammed the key card into the slot again, to no avail.

A man opened the door and stuck his head out of the room. “What’s wrong? Is this some kind of a fire drill?”

“It’s no drill. Get back in your room and shelter in place until I give the all-clear. Don’t open the door to anyone.”

The tour director returned Theia’s card. “Get back in your room with your husband.”

“This is my room, but he’s not my husband,” Theia insisted.

“There must be some kind of mistake,” the man in the room announced. “This is my room.”

The tour director grabbed the woman’s key card again and examined the key holder. He shook his head, rolled his eyes, and looked at Theia like she was a recalcitrant child. “You’re on the wrong floor, miss. This is Room 515. You’re in Room 415.”

“I’m sorry.” Theia blew out a breath and turned to leave. The tour director blocked her way.

“Excuse me, but I need to get back to my room.” Tears of exhaustion pooled in her eyes. She wanted to scream.

“I’m afraid you can’t go anywhere. We’ve disabled the elevators for your safety, and hotel security is blocking the stairs, for now.” He ushered her into Room 515 and pushed her into the arms of the man standing at the door.

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I grabbed Ginger by the hand and pulled her out of the room, down the hall and to the bathroom. Her resistance was futile, her fear unimportant. I knew what I had to do, and if she were smart, she'd realize it, too. If she wanted to live. I opened the bathroom door and yanked her inside, thanking fuck that I found it empty. It was filthy, but better than nothing, and it had a shower that everyone used when they felt the need to be clean, which wasn't often.

Ginger spun around when I shut the door, the look of a trapped animal in her pretty blues. I ignored her growing terror, steeling myself for what I had to do. Even behind closed doors I had to make it real, had to be convincing that I was an unfeeling bastard. I saw her swallow, could see her tits rising and falling rapidly as the fear of the unknown overwhelmed her. She was expecting the worst, preparing herself to do whatever she had to do to survive.

"Take off your clothes." I kept my tone harsh, indifferent to her growing panic.

She shook her head vigorously and stepped back, slamming hard against the cracked porcelain sink. A nervous cry escaped her, and her eyes were wild as she took in her surroundings and realized that there was no escape. Her gaze touched on the door behind me before meeting my eyes.

"Please-"

"Take off your fucking clothes," I said in an uncaring, demanding tone. "You're filthy, and not in a way that gets my dick hard. Now undress." I removed my cut and the t-shirt beneath it. "In fact, I think I'll join you." Her eyes nearly popped out of her head at that. "If you're not undressed by the time I'm out of my clothes, you won't like the consequences." I kicked off my boots as my hands went to the front of my pants.

As I’d expected she would, Ginger's small hands began to unbutton her blouse. Slowly she began to expose enticing, creamy skin to my wandering eyes. I undid my pants. She lowered her gaze to the floor and turned around before reluctantly removing the garment. I let her have her moment of modesty before I looked into the mirror in front of her. Fuck. My dick took notice of her perfect tits and rosy nipples. Hard nipples. Surprising.

I lowered my zipper, the sound of it overloud in the tiny room. I could tell that she knew what I was doing by the stiffening of her backside, but she didn't let it stop her from removing her jeans. As I kicked mine away, hers hit the floor. I hissed, taking in the mouth-watering curves of her shapely ass, an ass I wanted to dig my fingers into while I was grinding my dick into her cunt. Fucking hell, I hadn't expected the surge of lust that was heating my blood at an alarming rate.