Title: Callback
Series: Silhouette Studios #1
Author: Katana Collins
Genre: Romance/BDSM
Release Date: April 3, 2018
Audio Narrator: Joe Arden
Audio Narrator: Joe Arden
Marlena
Everyone has their limits. Mine? It's one that should have never been crossed. Now thanks to my ex-boyfriend, all of Hollywood thinks I trade sex for roles. You can imagine how my auditions go these days. This town has enough real scandals without him adding fake ones to the mix. But I have a plan. And it was going so well... until Jude Fisher came along.
Jude
When my ex-wife sold the footage of herself cheating on me with another man, I was done. With scandal, with her, with all the fakeness this industry thrives on. Finding her as the only actress up for co-lead in my new BDSM movie was the last thing I needed. Then Marlena Taylor auditioned, and I found everything I need. A gifted actress, a natural submissive… and a woman I can’t resist.
All she’s missing is knowledge about the lifestyle--my lifestyle.
I'm more than happy to tutor her--to show her the ropes, if you will. I’ll teach her everything about the games. The toys. The dynamic.
I'll teach her everything but the sex. That’s my hard limit.
But we’re quickly finding out that there’s no limit to what’s between us.
I swallowed, my stomach tight and crossed my legs to relieve the ache at the apex of my thighs. Then, I placed the other half of the caramel in my mouth, sucking the melted chocolate from my thumb, rolling my tongue over the tip of my finger, imagining it was the tip of Jude’s cock. As the caramel dripped down my throat, thick and creamy, my mind exploded with imagery of Jude and caramel drizzled on various parts of his body.
A moan escaped from somewhere low in my throat. The guttural sound unlike any noise I’d heard myself make in the past and my eyes shot open. Did anyone hear that? My face burned and I scanned the room, looking for anyone who might be watching me; laughing at me. No one looked my direction.
Most bodies were still writhing on the dance floor. Or at the bar ordering. Omar was just to the side of the dance floor, facing the opposite wall talking on his phone.
What is wrong with me? This was a chocolate covered caramel for God’s sake. Not a vibrator. Not porn. Not a sexy romance novel.... One single piece of candy and I was so damned hot, I was considering rushing home to have a little quality time with my battery-operated boyfriend.
My gaze settled back onto the nearly full box of caramels beside the peonies. I wanted another. Wanted more of what I’d just had. But Jude had specifically said only one more for tonight. Heat curled around my spine and I clutched my hands together. If I was a submissive, following this rule would be part of what made it sexy. And if I was being completely honest with myself, it was sexy.
Knowing he was at home, turned on, thinking about me. And knowing I made him happy. The disease to please, my dad called it. But no, it was more than just that. Maybe it was the delayed gratification Jude had mentioned. The fact that this was the only chocolate I was having tonight and so I anticipated it. Waited for it, longing for it. Nervous for it. And it made the caramel so, so much better. Jude’s pleasure was only part of that.
Dipping my hand into my bag, I pulled out Jude’s business card, running my finger along the cornered edge of the paper. Then, grabbing my phone, I punched in his number, texting him.
I’ll see you tomorrow at Daisy’s. My mind was made up. Whatever that was I had just experienced? I wanted more of it. Needed more of it. For research, yes. But also for myself. That intense moment of pleasure was unlike anything I’d had before. My phone buzzed in my palm.
So, it was good then?
Good didn’t even cover it. I swallowed, my thumbs tapping the keys. It was the best salted caramel of my life. How was yours?
If I closed my eyes, I could almost hear his low rumbled chuckle. Could almost smell his earthy, spicy scent.
I loved every second of it. And I love it even more knowing you enjoyed the experiment, too.
The experiment. Was that all I was? Some sort of twisted BDSM Pygmalion?
It didn’t matter. The point was, I wanted this part. And it was clear I had a lot to learn about this lifestyle—about Jude’s lifestyle—despite the hours I’d spent Googling and on FetLife. Three little dots appeared above Jude’s name. He was typing more.
You did a great job tonight. Have fun, be sure to drink some water and take a Tylenol before bed.
“I was wondering what was taking so long.” Omar’s voice boomed above me and I jumped, startled, clutching the phone tighter. He laughed. “I should have guessed you dug back into those caramels. I’ll go get us the next round.”
He turned toward the bar.
“And a water,” I blurted out, my eyes falling to Jude’s text. “Please.”
“Water and a bourbon coming up,” Omar said, walking away.
I sighed, leaning back and slid the phone into my purse. If I was going to try this submissive thing for a week, I was going all in. Except for sex. Which, based on how turned on I got from one damned chocolate, might be harder than I thought.
A moan escaped from somewhere low in my throat. The guttural sound unlike any noise I’d heard myself make in the past and my eyes shot open. Did anyone hear that? My face burned and I scanned the room, looking for anyone who might be watching me; laughing at me. No one looked my direction.
Most bodies were still writhing on the dance floor. Or at the bar ordering. Omar was just to the side of the dance floor, facing the opposite wall talking on his phone.
What is wrong with me? This was a chocolate covered caramel for God’s sake. Not a vibrator. Not porn. Not a sexy romance novel.... One single piece of candy and I was so damned hot, I was considering rushing home to have a little quality time with my battery-operated boyfriend.
My gaze settled back onto the nearly full box of caramels beside the peonies. I wanted another. Wanted more of what I’d just had. But Jude had specifically said only one more for tonight. Heat curled around my spine and I clutched my hands together. If I was a submissive, following this rule would be part of what made it sexy. And if I was being completely honest with myself, it was sexy.
Knowing he was at home, turned on, thinking about me. And knowing I made him happy. The disease to please, my dad called it. But no, it was more than just that. Maybe it was the delayed gratification Jude had mentioned. The fact that this was the only chocolate I was having tonight and so I anticipated it. Waited for it, longing for it. Nervous for it. And it made the caramel so, so much better. Jude’s pleasure was only part of that.
Dipping my hand into my bag, I pulled out Jude’s business card, running my finger along the cornered edge of the paper. Then, grabbing my phone, I punched in his number, texting him.
I’ll see you tomorrow at Daisy’s. My mind was made up. Whatever that was I had just experienced? I wanted more of it. Needed more of it. For research, yes. But also for myself. That intense moment of pleasure was unlike anything I’d had before. My phone buzzed in my palm.
So, it was good then?
Good didn’t even cover it. I swallowed, my thumbs tapping the keys. It was the best salted caramel of my life. How was yours?
If I closed my eyes, I could almost hear his low rumbled chuckle. Could almost smell his earthy, spicy scent.
I loved every second of it. And I love it even more knowing you enjoyed the experiment, too.
The experiment. Was that all I was? Some sort of twisted BDSM Pygmalion?
It didn’t matter. The point was, I wanted this part. And it was clear I had a lot to learn about this lifestyle—about Jude’s lifestyle—despite the hours I’d spent Googling and on FetLife. Three little dots appeared above Jude’s name. He was typing more.
You did a great job tonight. Have fun, be sure to drink some water and take a Tylenol before bed.
“I was wondering what was taking so long.” Omar’s voice boomed above me and I jumped, startled, clutching the phone tighter. He laughed. “I should have guessed you dug back into those caramels. I’ll go get us the next round.”
He turned toward the bar.
“And a water,” I blurted out, my eyes falling to Jude’s text. “Please.”
“Water and a bourbon coming up,” Omar said, walking away.
I sighed, leaning back and slid the phone into my purse. If I was going to try this submissive thing for a week, I was going all in. Except for sex. Which, based on how turned on I got from one damned chocolate, might be harder than I thought.
When Katana Collins was younger and stole her mother’s Harlequins to read beneath the covers with a flashlight, she wanted to read about the tough as nails heroine. The perfectly imperfect girl with quirks and attitude and sass. And the anti-heroes who were anything but “Prince Charming.” Forget the knight on a white horse… she wanted the bad boy on a motorcycle.
So, now, she writes those romance novels she craved to see on the shelves all those years ago—the sassy heroines. The badass heroes. Since penning her first romance novel back in 2012, she is now an international author with 15 published books and counting.
She lives in Portland, Maine, with an ever-growing brood of rescue animals: a kind of mean cat, a really doofy lab, a very mellow chihuahua, and a very not mellow cairn terrier puppy... oh yeah, there's a husband somewhere in that mix, too. She can usually be found hunched over her laptop in a cafe, guzzling gallons of coffee, and wearing fabulous (albeit sometimes impractical) shoes.
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