The Right Turn (MF)

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: Scorching
Word Count: 97,276
3 Ratings (3.7)
[Siren Classic: Erotic Romantic Suspense, public exhibition, spanking, HEA]
Rachael Wells is a hard-working, ambitious 29 year old Londoner who relocated to Bath after the death of her father four years ago. She now finds herself alone after she walked in on her boyfriend, James, having sex with their neighbour. Although upset about the split Rachael is not devastated as James had constantly belittled and controlled her throughout their relationship. 
Rachael quickly begins a new relationship with Ethan Stewart, a wealthy property developer, and she soon realises that Ethan is her "forever after." James finds the break difficult to come to terms with and becomes obsessed with winning his "Angel" back, threatening her and her close friends and soon resorting to violence to prove his love.
The police begin to give up any hope of finding James and the Detective leading the investigation gives Ethan the idea for the perfect murder. 
Will Ethan and Rachael take The Right Turn and end James's rampage?
A Siren Erotic Romance
The Right Turn (MF)
3 Ratings (3.7)

The Right Turn (MF)

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: Scorching
Word Count: 97,276
3 Ratings (3.7)
In Cart
In Wish List
Available formats
Cover Art by Harris Channing
Buy Paperback at:
Amazon | Barnes & Noble
Excellent read with a brilliant ending, where can I buy an Ethan?




Abbey Green was a little cobbled square, almost hidden from the main flow around the city centre. With tea shops, a pub, a bed and breakfast, a shop that sold just beads and a craft shop, apart from an odd contrast of a sci-fi memorabilia shop, it was like stepping into a pocket of the past. A large sycamore in the middle of a round raised bed in the centre of the square threw a shadow over all its occupants. To the left of the Green was Bath Abbey, a towering gothic-style cathedral dating back to the sixteenth century. Living in London all her life, she took for granted the sights of the capital because of seeing them on a daily basis. When she moved to Bath she was determined she would not do that again, and she had learnt to appreciate her surroundings. She was often found sitting, eating her lunch, outside the cathedral on a sunny day just staring at the building. Every time she did, she saw something new and if she was ever walking by and could hear the choir rehearsing inside, she would sneak into the back of the Abbey and sit and listen to the haunting voices.

In the square in front of the Abbey she could hear a lone busker’s voice and guitar echoing around the tall buildings mixing beautifully with the hum of drinkers chatting and laughing outside The Crystal Palace pub, and as the cathedral’s bells were beginning to peel 9:00 p.m. the poor busker was going to have to fight to be heard.

Friday nights were busy in Bath. The atmosphere around the city was always electric. Stag and Hen nights, work colleagues enjoying a Friday evening get together before the start of the weekend, students trying too hard to look bohemian, fire eaters, tight-rope walkers, magicians and wanna-be musicians performing anything from Vivaldi to rap and often selling CDs, too. Just parked around the corner were the scores of police hanging around their vans waiting for the 11:00 p.m.-2:00 a.m. madness of the one too many twenty-somethings who worked all week for those two evenings of mindless drinking.

She loved Bath, with the Georgian buildings built from Bath stone. The beautiful weir in the middle of the town, the Roman Baths, which were a nice treat when she had a good commission month, and the feel of the city on Saturday afternoons when Bath were playing at home and the pubs and bars were crowded with Rugby supporters. The only thing she didn’t like was the snobbery and tourists, but she lived with both of them, as they were one of the few downs she could find with the place. She had lived there for four years and it felt like home.

Rachael quickly walked through Southgate and into McDonald’s, grabbing two Quarter Pounder meals with an orange juice and a coffee. She walked through town to the car park. Spotting a dishevelled pile of clothes propped up against a wall with a plastic box in front of it, Rachael made a point of crossing the road towards it. A dirty hand appeared from the clothing. “Got any spare change, love?” the pile asked politely.

She put the extra meal and coffee next to the beggar and walked across the road to find her car. “Cheers!” he shouted. She always preferred to give them a hot meal rather than money.

Knowing she would be late home she had taken her car. She normally would have caught the bus. Rachael managed to eventually find her car, as she always forgot where she parked it, and, opening the door, she put her bags and food on the passenger seat and got in. She stole a couple of fries from inside the brown paper bag and started her drive through the middle of town towards the Bristol side of Bath. She lived in a large two-bedroom flat in Oldfield Park.

The area was the cheaper end of Bath and had a small regional train station with a few industrial units sporadically placed between houses. The small one-way streets often caught larger lorries unaware and the roads sometimes became impassable.

She put her key in the door and walked in, closing it behind her. She dumped her bags on the dining room table and went to the kitchen, grabbing a wine glass from the cupboard and opening the fridge door. Where’s that bottle of white I was drinking last night? Closing the door, she looked around the room to see where she’d put it. I am sure I put it in the fridge this morning?

There was an eerie silence in the flat that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. There it is on the coffee table. I couldn’t have put it away. James must have gone to bed early. Perhaps he got bored of playing with his new game on the Xbox.

The flat was very bland with no real character. James had been there for a few years before she moved in and had already put his single-man stamp on the place. Although she did ask to redecorate, James refused to let her. He really did make her feel as if she was living with him rather than living together. Rachael had been desperate to move into a flat with more character and something they could call “their own” but they were more expensive and James didn’t want to spend the extra money. He also had a bad credit history, so they had to be careful when it came to landlords, and as James’ friend owned the place they lived in, there was no need for any credit check. On Tuesday she would start to make enquiries for properties to rent and if she won this new account she could revisit the idea of buying a Bath stone house on her own in a year or so…a thought for another day when she was less tired.

She walked over to the sofa and sat down with her food and a fresh wine glass. That’s odd. She picked up the bottle, and it was empty. James doesn’t drink wine. A glass and four empty beer bottles were sat on the floor next to the sofa. She heard a noise coming from the bedroom and carefully got up, walked down the small hallway and listened at the door. Nothing. Her heart was in her mouth. It wasn’t what she thought it was, was it? She turned the handle very quietly and stepped into the room.




They decided on Revolutions Night Club. Looking at the line to get in, it didn’t seem to be on the students’ hit list, so they took a shot. They both ordered mojitos and tried to talk and gave up when they realised it was pointless. Ethan excused himself to use the bathroom.

Whilst he was gone, a tall and broad shouldered looking guy approached her to chat her up. She found out that he was a Welsh Rugby player and was out on the town celebrating with some of his team mates as one of them had just got engaged, he asked her to dance but she declined politely, but still he continued to chat. Ethan appeared, walked straight up to her claiming her as his own by slipping his arm around her waist and kissing her cheek. The man soon got the hint and walked away.

Ethan turned her round and kissed her. Both his hands clenched her face, pulling her up onto tiptoes.

“Are you marking you territory?” She grinned.

“Maybe.” He smiled.

"I like it."

"I know you do baby."

She dragged him onto the dance floor.

At first they danced apart but when Ethan could see more men eyeing her up he grabbed her by the waist, pulling her into his body.

They stilled, looking into each other’s eyes. He held her by the small of her back with the other arm by his side. She had both arms by her side. He started to grind his pelvis into hers and shifted his right leg in between her thighs. Neither of them took their eyes from each other. Rachael began to breathe deeply.

Their hips started to sway in time to the music and as they grew used to each other’s movement they really began to move. They danced as if they had been partners for years and were fluid because they knew each other’s body well. She held her arms above her head, often running her fingers through her hair.

Ethan felt himself becoming aroused with their movements, with each grind of their hips he stiffened further. He turned her round and she ground her backside into his pelvis. His mind began to run away with him and he didn’t know how long he was going to be able to take the grinding.

“We have to leave,” he said into her ear. She pulled back and looked at him bewildered. “Now!"

"Why what have I done?"

"Nothing, but..." He pulled her ear towards his mouth "…I need to be inside you,” he said, looking back into her eyes and raising his eyebrows.

She pushed onto him and kissed him passionately.

He pulled away and dragged her by the wrist out of the club.

They walked for five minutes until he found the perfect spot. He dragged her into a deserted alleyway, pinned her to a wall and kissed her.

“I need you…now.”

“Yes,” she panted.

He undid his buckle and jeans button and fly.

“Grab me round the neck,” Ethan said and he started to kiss her again.

He pulled her skirt up, ripping her thong off with one swift move. He grabbed her thigh and kneaded it pulling it round his hip. Then he took hold of her other thigh.

“Hold on tight,” he said as he lifted her. “Lean into the wall.”

He held her under her rear with his forearm and took his cock in his hand, rimming it over her opening. She was so wet already and he gently pushed himself in.

“Ah,” she groaned.

He pulled out very slowly and then pushed in again, taking her breath away. They were made for each other. A perfect fit. He then started to really move. Pulling out and pumping in hard, touching the small bundle of nerves that only he had ever reached before.

They could hear people walking past the end of the alley but they didn’t care, it turned them on more—the thought of being caught.

She was feeling the desire to come bubbling under the surface. That deep vaginal orgasm that she had only ever enjoyed with Ethan. Their dirty dance in the club had become a dirty fuck in an alleyway.

Read more