I love walking like this, so close to him. I love the way he rubs against me, the way I can feel his body heat. I love the feel of his arm as I grasp it and again I think of grasping hold of Joe and bracing myself as he plunges inside me with that throbbing cock.

Damn, I’m horny, so fucking horny I want to just push him up against the door and fuck him here on my doorstep.

‘Are you all right?’ Joe’s voice breaks into my daydream and I look up and blush.

‘Oh yes, sorry, I was just thinking.’ I duck my head down and look for my keys. Then he moves closer, his mouth beside to my ear.

‘Thinking what?’ I feel, as well as hear, his whisper. I look up from my search and move my head to the side. Our eyes meet and suddenly I am leaning in and placing a kiss upon his lips.

‘Nice,’ he whispers, ‘but I still want to know what you were thinking. I bet it was naughty.’

I blush once again and put the key in the door. Then his hand comes down on top of mine, his body just behind me, his mouth by my ear.

‘It was, wasn’t it? What were you thinking, Leanna, please tell me.’

I feel butterflies in my stomach. I am not sure if I’m scared or excited or embarrassed or even a mix of all three but I speak. Haltingly I stutter, ‘I was thinking about holding on to your arms as you slide your … your … yourself into me.’

His hand lifts from mine and I hear him softly moan. I finish turning the key and walk into my hallway. I am aware that Joe is still right behind me and he’s helping me as I shrug off my coat.

I can sense the thump, thump, thump of my heart echoing inside my head. My blood must be whizzing around at hyper speed as I feel all my extremities tingle, all from that moan, that tiny little moan of pleasure. I don’t care about my embarrassment now. I play that soft exhalation of air over and over again in my mind. Taking a breath, I turn round to face him.

‘Would you like a drink?’ I keep my voice level although I feel less than level inside.

‘Yeah, sure.’ Joe smiles at me, his cheeks flushed. From the cold, I wonder, or maybe the kiss?

‘OK, the living room is on your left,’ I call over my shoulder as I walk straight to my kitchen. ‘I’ll see you in there in a minute.’

I take my time as I put on the kettle, find the coffee granules and grab a mug. I’ve got to calm down, but oh, am I desperate for some action. What is it now? Well, over a year since I last had sex. No wonder I’m gagging for it. I’ve got to halt these rampaging hormones; I’m a respectable mother now, not a horny teenager.

Suddenly large hands are upon my hips and I feel breath on my ear. I jump a little, startled and horny once more. His lips brush against my ear lobe and I tilt my head, throwing my hazel curls to the side. The lips slip down and press against my throat. I gulp and they kiss my flesh again, harder this time. A moan escapes from betwixt my own parted lips.

‘Is that my coffee?’ Joe’s lips are no longer upon my throat and his hand has reached around and picked up his drink. Without waiting for a reply, he picks it up and strides off into the living room.

Left stunned, a spark of remembered conversation about teasing pops into my mind. We’d talked about flirting, anticipation and making the moment last. So that’s what he’s doing. I had told him how much I love to be teased. I told him I wanted to be turned on until I was a raging cacophony of lust and screaming for release. My cheeks redden. Joe knows all my wants and desires. I’ve told them all to him.

But equally as obvious: I know Joe. Two can play at his game!

Even at dusk the tree-lined driveway was impressive with perfectly maintained parkland, spanning for acres on either side of it. As Stephanie steered the Fiesta around a bend in the track, they both gasped. Their destination, Wilderhope Manor, had come into view and it was stunning. The Tudor style property was huge, with no less than three frontages visible from where they were. Chimneys with intricately built patterns jutted into the darkening sky, with tangles of ivy climbing parts of the manor, giving the place an appearance that was both beautiful and foreboding.

Presently, the driveway opened out into a gravelled area, which as far as Stephanie could tell, doubled as a car park for the weekend. Stephanie manoeuvred into a spot between two vehicles and killed the engine. As she turned to Jenny, she jumped, startled. Her girlfriend had leaned in close, making a scary face with her hands mimicking claws. “Are you ready to be scared out of your wits, young lady?” Jenny rasped, wiggling her eyebrows and fingers theatrically.

Stephanie shoved her playfully, laughing. “Come on, you silly cow. It’s a murder mystery weekend, not a monster hunt. There will be no ghosts, ghouls or vampires involved.”

Stephanie got out of the car and closed the door. She’d already popped open the boot and started unloading their bags before Jenny appeared alongside her, pouting petulantly.

“But it’s Halloween tomorrow,” Jenny insisted. “Anything could happen. The veil between the living and dead will be at its thinnest, and this place is meant to be swarming with ghosts.”

“If you say so, sweetheart,” she replied, rolling her eyes. She was used to Jenny’s crazy beliefs by now. “Grab your bags and let’s get inside. It’s cold. You got the tickets?”

Jenny nodded, brandishing her handbag in response. Jenny picked up her overnight bag as Stephanie slammed the boot lid before locking the car, then followed her toward the grand entrance to Wilderhope Manor.

* * * A little while later, they were installed in their room. They’d each been handed a “Welcome Pack” by the staff member who had attended to them at Reception, which consisted of their itinerary and instructions for the weekend.

As they unpacked, she voiced one of the thoughts that had run through her head. “Have you ever noticed how places never bat an eye at two girls sharing a room, and yet, if it’s two guys, they automatically assume they’re gay?”

“They’ll soon change their tune when they see your outfit for tonight!” Jenny replied, grinning cheekily at her. “It screams ‘lesbian’ with every stitch!”

“Whatever do you mean, you saucy wench? Someone with girl parts dressing as a distinguished gentleman does not a lesbian make.”

“True, but I wonder what it’ll do to you? Perhaps it’ll work in reverse and turn you straight!”

Obediently, Faye writhed on the bed, tugging at the handcuffs that restrained her wrists and the silk scarves I’d used to tie her ankles to the bedposts.

“Can’t, Sir,” she said, half smiling, half apprehensive, as if she was unsure whether the response would lead to reward or punishment. Hell, with Faye, the punishment usually was the reward.

I didn’t keep her in suspense. “Good.”

When I brought the riding crop up into her line of sight, her eyes widened and she bit her lip, a shiver of anticipation thrilling through her body. I paused for a second, giving her time to back out if she needed to, making no attempt to hide the way my eyes swept over every part of her.

“Are you ready?”

She swallowed hard, her eyes on the crop. Shaking a tendril of damp hair from her cheek before answering, she nodded, her words just barely whispered.

“Yes, Sir.”

The way she submitted, unquestioning, to my authority made me want to throw aside the crop right then. I needed to be inside her, needed to hear her beg for release, needed to lose control completely. But not yet. The scene had yet to be played out.

Faye looked from the crop to my face, and from the slight upward quirk of her eyebrow I could tell she’d caught on to my train of thought.

“Or we could just…” she said softly, shifting seductively against the mattress.

Snapped back into my role, I stared her out until she stilled and broke eye contact. A flicker of amusement remained in her voice as she conceded, “I’m sorry, Sir. I was outta line.”

“You’re damn right,” I said, and without warning cracked the crop down onto her breast, just below the nipple.

She yelled with combined pleasure and pain, attempting to suppress the grin on her face.

I paused to let the blow register, knowing she was hardly even trying to be properly submissive. Most of the time, she let it wash over her, sinking so far into the state that it took time for her to come back from it. Tonight she was in a playful mood of a completely different kind—cheerfully insolent and willing to take all the punishment I could mete out. I already knew she’d let me whip her until she was sore all over, then defy me for just a little longer, setting her tolerance for pain against my willingness to give it.

I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge.

Faye looked down at the red mark rising on her flesh, then up at me. “That the best you can do, Sir?”

I raised the crop, never letting my pissed-off façade slip. “I haven’t even started—” Faye’s phone rang, the unexpected sound disorientating us both. She groaned, scowling at the offending object as if it was sentient.

“Damn it! Not now!” She tugged expectantly at her handcuffs. “Okay, let me out of these.”

I stood there, impassive, and she rolled her eyes.

“Zach, seriously. Someone’s probably dead and we’ll have to go to work.”