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But, a surprise lurks inside for the hot Earthling men he seduces: a retractable tentacle. Will a series of steamy close encounters leave him impregnated with the alien-human hybrid he desires?
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More by Simone Holloway See more. Book 1. Hidden in the hills is a mansion where a group of billionaires meet. They decided to form a club, a special place where once a month they could meet and entertain their sexual fantasies. Selecting only the most beautiful women, the billionaires lavish them with gifts and money. The Club was originally created as a place for the men to escape, but they often find themselves the captives of their mistress' sexual desires. The only respite Bree has from a day filled with stress over bills and work are fantasies of her sexy, rich boss.
Stuck in a rut, she has given up on finding happiness. Everything changes when he makes her an offer she finds hard to resist: an invitation to join an intimate club of billionaires. Bree learns life can turn on a dime and fantasies can become reality in this tale of romance and lust.
Selene is stuck in a rut; she hasn't had a boyfriend in years and she's drowning in debt. She had almost resigned herself to life alone, when an ad for a wealthy man seeking a woman to have a baby, catches her attention. She decides it's time to change her life and agrees to the arrangement. But who is this man? Why is he willing to pay her so much money to carry his child?
Selene soon finds herself caught in a whirlwind, when her attraction to him becomes more than professional. A tale of money, deceit and love in this new steamy erotic romance.
Reviews Review Policy. Original pages. The hands moved in slow gentle circles for the most part.kulturisztika.hu/med/wp-content/michigan/1857-december-20.php
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Sometime one pair would shift to following a trail up and down on my body. The one on my neck did that, seeming to enjoy the line of my throat and pressing tenderly on the underside of my chin and the bumpy trail of my esophagus. I should have been worried about the hand on my throat, an alien pressing too hard could very easily suffocate me, but I believed I was safe, I believed they knew what they were doing.
I think that was the root of goodness; trusting that they would not hurt me. The aliens had been watching humanity for a long time. That we were strange animals they occasionally attacked and played with briefly, exotic creatures.
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It was illegal to interfere with us, and the craft that abducted me was filled with poachers not scientist. Poachers offering these aliens the chance to see and touch something forbidden, to take souvenirs of my clothes and treasure the memory of my skin under their falsely green fingers. I liked the idea of poachers who were still gentle enough to supervise the behavior of the rich ones paying to toy with the protected species.
I liked the idea of a species kind enough to protect an entire planet. The one at my head, the one with the low voice, started speaking again. His spoon fingers fluttered through my hair lifting it tenderly and letting it fall over my face. I tilted my head and rolled my eyes far up to look at him. This one looked exactly as I expected an alien to look, the roundness of his green bald head, the big intelligent eyes, the tiny lips and thin slit of a nose. He had perfected his mask.
This was the one in charge, the poacher carrying passengers to play with forbidden creatures, the head scientist running an experiment. He noticed my eyes straining to see him and the thin lips parted a little pursing upwards not at the edges like a human smile, but lifting at the center. It still felt like a smile. I know it was a smile. His fingers on my head told me it was. He pushed at my head and tilted downward so that I could no longer see him.
But I could see his hands coming from behind me. His hands grazed down my chest and began to unbutton my jacket.
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The music of my mind shuddered and I realized the touch was arousing. The alien behind me, the one taking off my jacket, he said something and the others around me cooed and their touch became more purposeful. Their hands helped with the buttons stroking over the suede and tugging it lightly away from me.
The jacket slipped off my arms without resistance. I was truly floating in the air. I had that thought of myself as a jumpy wild dog again. Snapping when it was offered food and whimpering with confusion. Something fluttered and scampered underneath me and I saw only the trace of something fast and yellow brown rushing away carrying the jacket. I imagined it torn up for souvenirs.
Maybe cut into little pieces and dissolved into test tubes. The aliens never stopped touching me, soft gentle hands stroking my now bare arms.
Their hands were still chilled and bone dry and they chattered to each other over my prone body. I imagined their conversations about how weird and hairy I was. About how hot and wet my skin felt. How gross it was. How strange. The cotton of my t-shirt was not as interesting to their hands as the suede though they stroked my stomach and chest through the t-shirt. I shivered again and wondered if the aliens knew the effect they were having on me. Did they understand physical arousal?
What if that was what they were experimenting on? What if my arousal was what they had paid to see? The leader, the one speaking behind me in low sonorous tones continued grazing his fingers through my hair and over my neck affectionately. I twisted to look up at him again, and once again he took my head firmly in his spoon fingers and tilted me back down.
This time his hands dipped inside my shirt, into the collar of the soft cotton fabric. His fingers massaged and teased my shoulders and collarbone and the other aliens watched his progress almost jealously behind their large dark eyes. He tugged at the shirt and the hem pulled out of my jeans.
The aliens let out a sound like exhalations when they saw the skin revealed at my abdomen. The thin line of flesh where there was a line of hair into my jeans. When they began to touch me again, several of their bold hands moved away from my arms and clothed chest to the rumpled edge of my shirt.
Alien fingers dipped under the shirt still rubbing tentative small circles over my abdomen, poking the muscles there. Their hands were greedy for my body for the firmness of my abdomen and I drew my belly tight both trying to satisfy them and to avoid the chill of their strange fingers. Their hands pressed harder, just slightly. One on my right, the one who had taken a scrap of my jacket pressed very hard as if trying to push me down.
I felt pinching fingers and shuddered remembering how the pale green, pleasant and familiar, had been a mask for the strange yellow and red thing that could cut through my jacket. The one behind me barked and all the hands pulled away from me sharp and frightened. The aliens looked scared and all eyes turned from me to the one on my right.
The alien behind me talked to him harshly and that alien responded in kind. An argument escalating.