McKenzie, Cooper - His Beck and Call Girl [Club Esoteria 6] (Siren Publishing Allure) Read online

  Club Esoteria 6

  His Beck and Call Girl

  Sinclair Malone has had enough. After telling on and off lover Jackson Matthews off, she thinks they are through.

  She soon finds out that Jackson has other ideas.

  Jackson has been hurt in the past and is wary of what he feels for Sinclair. He doesn’t want to lose the creative beauty, but his life is so busy he doesn’t always have time for her. Knowing she’s curious about the BDSM lifestyle, he invites her to visit Club Esoteria where he tends bar.

  Not a typical submissive, Sinclair Malone agrees to play one for an evening if it brings her closer to Jackson. Can their relationship grow after a night at Club Esoteria? Or will she remain his Beck and Call Girl?

  Genre: BDSM, Contemporary

  Length: 20,434 words

  HIS BECK AND CALL GIRL

  Club Esoteria 6

  Cooper McKenzie

  EROTIC ROMANCE

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer.

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Erotic Romance

  His Beck and Call Girl

  Copyright © 2011 by Cooper McKenzie

  E-book ISBN: 1-61034-584-3

  First E-book Publication: June 2011

  Cover design by Jinger Heaston

  All cover art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

  If you have purchased this copy of His Beck and Call Girl by Cooper McKenzie from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

  Regarding E-book Piracy

  This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

  The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

  This is Cooper McKenzie’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. McKenzie’s right to earn a living from her work.

  Amanda Hilton, Publisher

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  www.BookStrand.com

  DEDICATION

  For my muse…thank you for everything,

  even the things you’ll probably never know you did.

  HIS BECK AND CALL GIRL

  Club Esoteria 6

  COOPER MCKENZIE

  Copyright © 2011

  Chapter 1

  “What are you wearing?” Jackson Matthews’s voice dropped to the deep, deep, sexy range that got to her every time.

  Sinclair Malone swallowed and clenched the phone tighter to her ear. Her damp pussy clenched and gushed as her already hard nipples tightened even further. As typical with their phone calls of the last six months, they had laughed and talked about everything and anything for nearly an hour. But, as usual, the sexual energy grew thicker between them through the cell phone connection.

  Looking down, she wondered if she should tell him the truth or lie. But she had never lied to him, no matter how uncomfortable the truth was to share. This relationship had taught her so much about herself, but she also knew she had much yet to learn.

  “An oversized T-shirt and panties,” she replied, the laughter dropping from her own tone as she recognized where the conversation headed. The same place it did nearly every time they talked, especially during these late-night phone calls when Jackson was on shift at the firehouse.

  “Where are you?”

  “On the couch. Where should I be?” Sinclair stood and headed down the hall to her bedroom, intuitively knowing what he wanted.

  “At this hour you should be tucked in bed, snuggled under your blanket. On the way, lose the clothes.”

  The thread of underlying power in his voice sent a shiver down Sinclair’s spine as she pulled her T-shirt over her head, hanging it on the bedroom doorknob.

  “But it’s chilly,” she teased as she pushed off her panties and headed to her bed across the room.

  “Don’t worry, baby, you won’t be cold for long,” he promised.

  Sinclair’s breathing hitched in anticipation as she pulled the covers back and lay down. She moaned as the silky cotton sheet settled over her, brushing against her turgid nipples. The slick fabric settled over her, cool against warm skin that usually remained covered.

  “Now what?” she asked softly.

  “Close your eyes and relax. Imagine me there next to you, brushing my fingers over your skin, up your body to your pretty girls,” the deep voice instructed.

  Sinclair did as he asked, her pulse speeding up, her breathing growing shallow. As his words formed mental pictures, she propped her phone between her ear and the pillow so she could use both hands to move to his words, slowly trailing up her body. Her fingertips brushed over one breast and then the other.

  Her breathing turned to panting as his words aroused her more and more. His voice stayed low, deep and dark, the tone simultaneously sending fire and chills through her to settle between her legs. Her need to come grew until she began to make small mewling noises, which she knew he heard over their connection.

  At his direction, one hand trailed down her body, across her hips to the top of her slit. Her breathing hitched as she brushed along the outside of her labia causing the lips to put pressure on her clit. Finally she could wait no longer.

  She slid a finger between her lower lips, circled her clit, then brushed down to her entrance and back again. Her other hand continued playing with her breasts, making her wish for a moment she had a third hand. She sucked a breath as shivers and tingles shot from tits and clit out to encompass her whole body before racing back to her pussy.

  She moved closer and closer to her orgasm but fought to keep from coming as she did during every one of these encounters.


  “Hold it, baby,” he said, his breathing faster and harsher in her ear.

  She whined as everything in her grew tighter and tighter until she thought her body would implode.

  “Hold it, sunshine…hold it just a little longer…okay, come now.” She barely heard him over her own harsh, gasping breathing. “I’m coming.” He groaned his own completion.

  Sinclair pinched her clit and cried out as her orgasm instantly rolled over her like a bulldozer.

  As they recovered, they talked of nothing of consequence until Jackson said, “Okay, baby, sleep well. I’ll buzz you later.”

  “Be safe,” she returned automatically.

  Hanging up and laying the cell phone on the nightstand beside the bed, Sinclair rolled to her side and hugged the spare pillow to her chest. She found herself once again wishing for the night that Jackson would be with her to cuddle with as she drifted off to sleep.

  * * * *

  Three weeks later, Sinclair ignored the elephants doing a polka in her stomach as Jackson strutted across the oversized garage towards her. Looking at him here at the firehouse caused her to cream her panties, especially since he wore his dark blue uniform, all spit-shined and pulled together. Six feet of rippling, well-trained muscle that displayed the fire department’s uniform so damn well.

  Though she’d dressed up for this encounter, Sinclair felt frumpy by comparison. Why was it no matter how much she tried she had a hard time relaxing around this man?

  She knew the other men working his shift were just out of sight and probably listening to every word, but for one of the few times in her life, she didn’t care what they heard. All she wanted was to have her say so she could go home. Maybe large quantities of alcohol would ease the ache in her soul she’d carried for months while lying to herself about what she and Jackson really had.

  “Sinclair? What’s up, sunshine?”

  Ignoring his question, Sinclair took a deep breath, wishing she didn’t feel like she wanted to throw up. Staring into his deep cobalt blue eyes for a moment, she then dropped her gaze to his chin. “I’m sorry to show up like this, but since you haven’t called in three weeks, I decided to take the chance.” She paused for a quick breath before continuing.

  “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep on being your dirty little secret. I deserve better than to be treated like a blow-up doll you play with when you’re on shift and bored. I understand your ex-wife hurt you and for that I’m sorry. No one deserves that kind of pain. But you’ve filled your life with so much work and you do so much for everyone else that you don’t have time for a new relationship no matter how much I’d like it to be different. I’m tired of being your beck and call girl just because you’re scared of trusting me.”

  Sinclair took a deep breath and half turned, her gaze moving from him to study the shiny fire truck they stood beside. “I’ve been hurt, too, but I opened up to you, allowed you into my life. You know my phone number, my address, damn, you even had Max’s approval and he doesn’t like anyone. I thought that maybe, if I was patient and gave you the time and space you needed, you would trust me enough to open up and share something of yourself, but you haven’t.”

  She paused for another breath, but before he could respond she started again. “Relationships, if you call what we have a relationship, should be about sharing, both giving and taking. The problem is you don’t share, you won’t open up. Every time I show you a kindness, that I care, try to take a step forward to something more, you fall out of contact for weeks. I’m tired of the uncertainty of whether or not you might call me. Of lying to myself that soon, eventually, if I wait long enough, you’ll knock down a few of those walls you keep between us.”

  Sinclair took another breath. “I’m tired of trying to prove that you can trust me. So I’ve decided to give up on the hope of there being an ‘us.’ Unless you can open up and share parts of your oh-so-mysterious life so we can build something lasting, we’re through. If you decide you can’t, then I wish you the best and hope someday you meet the right woman you can trust.”

  She glanced at him for a pair of racing heartbeats, not surprised to see a shocked, wide-eyed, deer-in-the-headlights expression on his face. Without another word, Sinclair walked out through the open garage bay door and across the parking lot to her car.

  * * * *

  Jackson watched her walk away, his cock stiffening as he watched her generous hips sway back and forth. Her innocently sexy aura and womanly curves turned him on like no other ever had, not even his ex-wife.

  Her words stunned him, but he was proud that she had found the strength to say them to his face. She’d come so far in the months since they’d met, growing in confidence, both in and out of bed.

  As he watched her pull out of the parking lot, a sick feeling started in his stomach. He realized she was right. He had kept her a secret, his special secret, since the beginning, though not for the reason she thought.

  He had also kept large parts of his life from her. He just didn’t realize how his staying quiet made her feel. To be told he treated her like a blow-up doll slapped him hard in the conscience. In the next instant he realized that he did not want to lose her. She’d become too important to him, though this piece of information was yet another thing he’d not shared with her.

  “Damn, Jack, she’s a firecracker. If you don’t want her anymore, can I have her number?”

  Jackson glanced at the man who had just walked up beside him. Chuckling, he shook his head. “No way, Andy. You’d never survive. But she’s right. I haven’t treated her like I should. She’s also right that I’ve kept too much from her.” He looked thoughtful for a long moment before asking, “Are we still going out to eat?”

  “Duh, yeah. It’s last shift of the cycle. Of course we’re going out. Why?”

  “Because we’re going to make a stop on the way.”

  How was he going to make this up to her? A simple apology would never be enough. If someone had treated him like this he would demand a hell of a lot more than a simple “I’m sorry.”

  Looking across the street, he remembered something she had once said about flowers.

  “Andy, I’ll be right back,” he called over his shoulder as he jogged down the driveway and across the street.

  Chapter 2

  Sinclair made it halfway home before the shaking began. Tears held off until she parked in the driveway in front of her little house. Dropping her forehead to the steering wheel, she let them flow. They raced down her cheeks fast and hot to drip off her chin. Her low-cut red tank dress caught them. She’d worn the sexy dress to keep her motivated for the momentous occasion of showing more backbone than she thought she had in her.

  She would never be able to wear the dress again without thinking of this day and the longing in her heart. Over time it had festered into an ache in her soul from wanting more than he seemed capable of giving. But then, most of her clothes had some memory of Jackson connected with them.

  Though she couldn’t afford it, she would have to purge her closet and replace all the clothes that carried memories of their times together. Memories of late-night phone calls that lasted for hours when the firehouse was quiet. And the times when he came to her house to take a break from the go-go-go life that he never talked about. Those visits inevitably led to some of the best, hottest sex Sinclair had ever experienced. But too soon afterwards, he would dress and be out the door, tossing a “buzz you later” over his shoulder as he left.

  Once the tears slowed and her trembling eased enough that she could function, Sinclair mopped up and climbed from the car. Opening her cell phone, she called Megan’s number. Her best friend lived half a block away, which made it mandatory that they check in with one another daily, either by phone or in person.

  “Hey, girl, what’s up?” Megan answered in her usual upbeat style.

  “Which wine goes better with a battered heart, red or white?” Sinclair asked without preamble.

  “Huh?”

  “Ne
ver mind, maybe I’ll drink both. You’re welcome to join me if you want, but you might want to hurry,” Sinclair offered just before hanging up and climbing from her car.

  Sinclair was in the process of uncorking the bottle of red wine when Max, her liver-colored cocker spaniel, ran to the front door, barking.

  “Hush, baby, it’s Megan.” Sinclair shushed the dog, then opened the front door. “Come on in and join the party.”

  “What’s happened? Why are we drinking? Have you heard from Jackson yet?” Megan asked as she followed Sinclair back into the kitchen.

  “Not exactly, though I have a feeling I never will again. I scared the shit out of him and he’s gone forever.”

  Sinclair finished uncorking the wine before pouring two glasses full. Handing one to her friend, Sinclair put the cork back in the bottle. She carried the bottle with her through the living room and out the front door to the wide porch that ran the width of her tiny bungalow.

  “Okay, spill. What happened?” Megan asked again once they were settled on the two chairs kept for these evening visits.

  Sinclair looked around the porch and realized she’d probably have to replace her furniture, too, if she wanted to fully purge Jackson from the house. They’d sat out here and talked. They’d made love—no, they’d had sex on the couch and chair in her living room as well as the bed. He’d wandered the house and they’d sat on the back deck and talked on one of those occasions when he took time out of his life to come and be a part of hers.