Invite Me In

A Salon Games Novel | Book One

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Some invitations don’t need to be sent…only accepted. 

Antiques dealer Annabelle Elder’s life is nowhere near as passionate as the erotic art she collects. A cheating ex-boyfriend and her business have seen to that. So when she attends a New Year’s Eve party at Haven Hotel, she sees a chance to blow off some steam. But she never expected to meet anyone like Jared—or to experience such passion in his arms… 

Handsome, rich, and charming as hell, Jared Golden brought his Midas touch to Haven Hotel—and created an anything-goes pleasure palace on one floor to cater to his special friends and their very special desires. After falling in lust with Annabelle at first sight, seducing her was easier than he expected. What he didn’t expect was to be seduced in turn… 

But unrestrained passion in the bedroom is not the only spark between Annabelle and Jared. Their mutual attraction is confounded by their separate pasts. Caught in an ever-growing web of painful secrets and sensual fantasy, will they be able to face the truth about themselves and trust in true love?



Read an excerpt ...

“I’ve always believed passion is the only thing that makes life worth living.” Jared stood and her gaze flicked, for one brief moment, to his crotch and the impressive bulge there. When she looked up his smile was gone, but lust showed in the tight line of his jaw. “Let me show you my passion before the others arrive.”

She really didn’t want him to think she was a nympho, but she really hoped he meant they were going to have sex again. It’d been months since she’d broken up with Gary and frankly, she’d never had sex as good as she’d had with Jared. 

A little voice in the back of her head wanted to intrude, wanted her to question what she was doing. But she shut it down before it could become a nag. Tonight was all about pleasure. If there was one thing she’d learned from her parents, it’s that pleasure was sacred.

And damn it, she deserved some.

She took his outstretched hand and let him draw her to her feet.

Tilting her head back to look into his eyes, she smiled and he bent to give her a quick kiss. Not long enough to satisfy. And no tongue.

A tease. She wanted to tease and torment him.

He nodded toward the back wall of the room. “Through here.” While this room was the size of the one she’d checked into for the night—and which she probably wasn’t going to be sleeping in—there was no bed. Two couches and six chairs were arranged around the room in seating areas, the art deco style repeated in the side tables and decorations. Not gaudy, as some deco could be, but elegant and tasteful.

Annabelle saw no door in the wall but Jared touched a piece of the ornate molding and, like magic, the seam she’d thought was from the wallpaper cracked open to reveal another space beyond. Jared stepped in ahead of her, flicking switches on the wall. A warm glow suff used the room and Annabelle’s breath caught at the scene spread out before her.

Like a scene out of Pride and Prejudice or, more appropriately, Fanny Hill, the large room looked like someone had transplanted a drawing room straight from Victorian England.

From the ornately decorated ceiling to the plush carpets, the octagonal room dripped with elegance.

Lush fabrics covered the chaise lounges, chairs, and ottomans. Silk wallpaper gleamed in the light of the crystal chandelier in the center of the room. Directly below the chandelier sat an octagonal
game table with eight chairs.

A baby grand piano held court in one corner, lit by a leaded glass piano light, and a large glass-front walnut display cabinet across the room held a collection of items she couldn’t see from where she was standing.

Several other seating areas lay scattered around the room, most shadowed in darkness, including one in front of the majestic marble fireplace burning with a gas fire.

“All the furniture is reproduction,” Jared said. “We can get . . . a little enthusiastic and I didn’t want anyone to feel like they had to hold back for fear of breaking an expensive antique.”

She glanced over her shoulder and watched as Jared headed for the writing desk on the opposite wall from the piano. He withdrew two pieces of black cloth from one of the drawers and turned to face her.

Walking over to him, she let her hips sway just a tiny bit more, the action helped along by the fact that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. She wasn’t sure what had happened to the ones he’d ripped off her. She suspected they were in his pocket. And that really shouldn’t make her pussy tingle.

Reaching out, she took the mask from his hand and examined it. It reminded her of a blindfold but with holes cut out for the eyes. Sitting on the edge of the desk, he circled one finger in the air, signaling for her to turn. She did and he slipped the mask over her eyes, waited until she adjusted it, then tied the strings behind her head.

The material felt like silk, sinful and sexy.

When he was done, she turned to fasten his.

What would it feel like to have my hands bound behind my back with these?

She’d never told Gary about that little fantasy, had worried he’d think she was perverted. Or worse, that he’d tell one of his idiot friends and it’d be spread all over town the next day.

She knew what it was like to be the object of vicious gossip and she didn’t want to live through that hell ever again.

Here she could indulge with no fear of repercussions.

She drew in a deep breath, and Jared turned, his eyes narrowing. Grabbing her around the waist, he lifted and turned her until she sat on the edge of the desk. Her skirt fluttered up and her bare ass settled onto the desk. Th e cool surface made her shiver, but her entire body shuddered when Jared put his hands on her thighs.

Under her skirt.

“Are you cold, Belle?”

Not at all. “If I say I am, will you offer to warm me?”

The corners of his mouth quirked but the rapid pulse at the side of his neck belied his seemingly outward cool. She wanted to lean forward and bite him right there. Mark him in some way.

His hands slid forward by the tiniest increments, each slight motion making her legs fall apart just a little more. “You don’t feel cold. In fact, your skin is so warm, I want to soak in your heat.”