Whether newly discovered or rekindled, there is no feeling in the world like pure passion coursing through our veins. It erupts at our core and allows us to be free and uninhibited. Shades of Pink Seduction explores passions that are buried deep in the subconscious and allow you to completely surrender to love and lust on your terms. Hazel Mills delivers uncharted stories that give erotica an entirely new meaning. What lies between the pages is seduction at your fingertips.
Also by Hazel Mills, Mr. Wrong After All.
“Damon, I’m about to write you a check for a great deal of money. I need to know all there is to know about the potential recipient.”
“Oh, I see,” he replied, leaning back in his black leather chair. “Well, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”
“Not at all. I’m an open book,” I answered. I sat down in the black leather chair across from his desk and crossed my shapely caramel legs, allowing for a slight rise in my skirt. The peekaboo view of my black thong made him stutter.
“Umm… well… are you married, engaged, or dating?” he asked, trying extremely hard but unsuccessfully not to stare at my thick calves.
“No, no, and no.”
Damon cleared his throat and flashed a full smile that appeared to be ten miles wide, indicating that he was clearly pleased with my responses.
Licking my glossed lips, I answered, “Well, I’ve got my eye on a sexy car salesman.”
“Is that right?”
His voice was different now. It was even deeper and sexier. In it, I heard the definite possibility of falling asleep in Damon’s arms at night and waking him with plenty of good loving and good food in the morning.
“That is exactly right,” I answered, taking off my panties and tossing them onto the purchase order form on the desk in front of him. Damon’s eyes widened and his forehead began to secrete tiny beads of sweat.
“Ms. James…” he said as he lifted the thong with his pen.
“This is highly inappropriate. We have to maintain a professional relationship. You have to put your panties back on.”
“You know that you can barely resist the urge to inhale the scent of my sex. Go ahead. Do it. No one is watching.”
“I can’t, Ms. James. Please, put your underwear back on before my manager walks in,” he begged and then threw them back into my lap. I couldn’t believe that he was turning down what I know to be the sweetest pussy on the planet.
“No. I prefer not to,” I said as I opened my shapely legs even wider, modeling the thin hairy strip that led the way to my treasure cove. “I know that you want to look.”
“You know what? Let’s just go ahead and finish up here,” he stuttered.
“Fine with me.”
He can’t be gay. If he is, it is a damn waste of good dick.
“What do you do for a living, Ms. James?” he asked.
“I’m an author.”
“An author? Really? That’s interesting. What genre?”
I smiled and allowed my hazel brown eyes to lock with his.
“Where do you get the inspiration for your stories?”
I knew you couldn’t resist. You do want to fuck me. I don’t know why you are playing games. But if a game is what you want…
“Here and there,” I answered. I immediately knew what his next question would be. It’s what people, especially men, always ask me when I tell them the type of stories I write.
“Are any of your stories written about personal experiences?”
Bingo! I knew it. Same question.
I could tell from the curious look on Damon’s beautiful face that my response intrigued him. For the rest of the afternoon, I asked and answered a lot of questions. Some of them actually concerned the major purchase I was about to make.
After I laid out the custom features I wanted, like the red monogrammed driver’s side headrest and the twelve disk CD magazine, Damon said that it would take a few weeks to get it all done. He then volunteered to personally deliver the automobile to my home.
“Maybe you’ll let me take you for a ride when you deliver the car,” I seductively offered, hoping that he would understand exactly what I meant.
“I’m looking forward to it,” he answered, rising from his seat for the first time since we’d entered his office. One look at the mouthwatering bulge that was barely contained by his zipper and I knew why he had remained seated.
Mmm…I bet you are hung like a Brahma bull.
I took my panties and tucked them into the pocket of his blue shirt.
“One whiff of my essence and I promise, you won’t be able to think about anything else,” I whispered as I put on my Chanel sunglasses and sashayed out of the dealership.
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