Sometimes a Shadow

excessica publishing

Heat Rating: Sizzling
Word Count: 9,600
1 Ratings (4.0)

When Valerie Mitford meets incredibly rich Maximilian Vonderburg, he introduces her to a world of kinky sex, international finance, and murderous intrigue.

With his charm and dominating ways, Max shows her the secret side of the kinky rich and famous. Politicians and actors, bankers and rock stars, all with their hidden, and some not so hidden, kinky lifestyles. Max knows them all. Some are friends, some are enemies. One wants to destroy him and his entire family. Seduced sexually and financially into becoming his personal assistant, does Valerie dare explore her own kinky fantasies without losing herself or her heart?

Part 1 of 3 Approx. 9600 words

Sometimes a Shadow
1 Ratings (4.0)

Sometimes a Shadow

excessica publishing

Heat Rating: Sizzling
Word Count: 9,600
1 Ratings (4.0)
In Bookshelf
In Cart
In Wish List
Available formats

The three of us sat at the short end of the L-shaped bar, pretending not to ogle the guys as they came in. I took the preferred corner spot where a man could sit next to me, but where we all could see him and not have to look through each other. Florrie sat next to me and Angie on the other side of her. We all worked together at Stone and Sharp Software and once a month we treated ourselves to happy hour and dinner at whatever new bar or restaurant we thought might offer the best chance to meet men.

Tonight we had decided upon Chez Benz, the newest – and rumored – hottest upscale singles bar and restaurant to open since the recession hit. Thus far, it disappointed us. We took some solace in the fact that the sparse early crowd would thicken, and we whispered our appraisals to each other about each new arrival.

Angie fidgeted and twirled the little plastic swizzle stick rapidly around the remains of her drink. “We came too early, Valerie. I told you we should have waited.”

I knew how she felt, but I doubted she knew how I felt. I’d never shared my fantasies with either of them, only agreeing with their descriptions of what they thought they wanted. Our monthly forays into the dating pool hadn’t succeeded in finding us the man of our dreams. It was frustrating. We needed better; hell, we deserved better. The same-old, same-old depressed me. I needed a change – a real change.

Florrie shrugged, slurping her martini and turned to Angie. “Patience, Ms. Horniness. Things will liven up.”

I nudged Florrie. “They just did.”

There standing in the doorway stood a man. Not just any man, but man with a capital M.

Florrie almost spilled her drink. “Oh my god, Val. He’s beautiful.”

Angie snickered. “I’ll bet he’s gay.”

The man creature strolled down the length of the bar. There was something in the way he walked; not exactly like a cat, but with a smooth confidence. He nodded to us as he took the chair at the end across the corner from me. I swallowed hard. He was gorgeous. A bit of a tan accented his intensely deep green eyes. He looked little older than the three of us, maybe in his early thirties with a distinguishing touch of premature grey in the dark brown hair at his temples. Instead of casual Friday attire, he wore a dark navy blue suit that looked like a mix of silk and cashmere. I’d never seen anything like it. I had to stop myself from reaching out to touch it.

Florrie, always the assertive one, batted her lashes at him. “Hi, there.”

“Hi, there yourself.”

His soft mellow voice gave me a shiver. He had a unique presence, something different about him that was almost palpable.

The barmaid appeared in a flash and he ordered a simple Jack Daniels which she poured instantly. Setting it down in front of him she dimpled her cheeks at him and asked, “Would you like anything else? Anything at all?”

She practically simpered at him, but Mr. Gorgeous simply said, “No thanks.”

She stuck out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout and left to attend other customers.

Angie leaned forward on the bar, her boobs practically spilling out of her half-unbuttoned blouse and said, “Can we talk to you and ask you some questions?”

Mr. Gorgeous quirked his lips in small smile. “Sure.”

We all glanced at each other. It was a game we sometimes played with guys, ganging up on them, with a bunch of girl questions. I took a deep breath.

Angie started. “Are you gay?”


Florrie looked at him seductively over the top of her martini glass. “Are you married?”


My turn came and he looked straight at me with those deep green eyes.
I gulped. A girl could get lost in those eyes. “Are you a good kisser?”

He smirked. “It depends on what I kiss.”

Angie and Florrie laughed loud and I felt heat rise to my face.

Angie continued. “What do you do for a living?”

“I manage my investments.”

Florrie pursed her lips. “Ooooh. Are you rich?”

“I’m comfortable.”

He looked at me again as if he expected another question.

My mind froze as I frantically tried to remember our questions. Nothing.

Angie spoke up. “Well, you certainly have all the right answers.”

Mr. Gorgeous twitched his lips, something between a smile and a smirk and sipped his drink, then pulled a twenty dollar bill from his pocket and put it under his glass. “You know, ladies, if you’re going to question potential… partners, you should not forget the most important question of all. Ask that one question and a whole new series of questions open up.”

Florrie perked up. “What question is that?”

He looked straight at me. “That question is: … Are you kinky?”

Read more