Friday, July 12, 2013

Sleeves chapter 1 excerpt

Please keep in mind some of this might change by the time it's published. It's still in the stages of editing, but I thought I'd share a teaser from Sleeves first chapter for you so you can dip your toe in and see how warm this water truly is...

Chapter 1

April 12th, 2023

“Casey, you have to come,” her friend, Jana said, tugging on her arm as they walked through the parking lot after work.

“No thanks,” Casey replied, sighing as the warm air hit her from the outside, melting the chill away from her cold office.

What was the big deal? Why did they keep hounding her about this particular club?

“Oh my God! You’re not honestly scared of this, are you?” Jana stared at her with her baby-blues like she was being ridiculous and then she tightened her ponytail, making sure her sandy blonde hair looked flawless as usual.

“No—why would I be?” Casey’s forehead creased and she turned away. “I’m just tired. It was a shitty day at work, that’s all.”

“I’ve heard this man has a monster cock, and he lets the women touch it and play with it,” Maddie said, fanning herself. “We have to sign something before they even let us into the club.”

“Fine. One drink, but that’s it. I’m not touching that man.” Casey headed over to Jana’s car.

Every Friday night. Why couldn’t they just let her go home and relax? Why did she always have to accompany them to these crazy dive places they scrounged up?

“He’s hot—wanna see a picture?” Maddie shoved her phone into Casey’s hands.

“You’ve already seen him?” Casey barely glanced at it and handed it back. He looked like any other male stripper. Dark hair, dark eyes, broad chest, light scruff on his chiseled jaw and sculpted cheek bones. Not to mention he was tan and imposing with ripped muscles. Probably was relegated to monosyllabic answers when spoken to, due to his shriveled vocabulary since a man that spent that much time on his body, surely didn’t have any left over to dedicate to his mind.

“Yeah, I went last Saturday night.” Maddie grinned. “I need to see that man again, ‘cause damn, he’s so fucking hot, I’m hoping to touch him again. It fueled some incredible fantasies all week long and kept my vibrator busy.” She paused and her face dropped for a moment. “They say he’ll only allow a woman to touch him once. No second chances, but I think that’s just something some bitter old bitch made up because she wasn’t ever chosen. I’m sure he’ll choose me again and give me a second shot.”

Casey rolled her eyes and got in the car.

“It’s not like any of us are dating someone exclusively, so why are you so hesitant?” Jana asked Casey while starting the car. “We need to get out and meet people.”

Meeting is the not the same as molesting some strange man in a cage,” Casey clarified, “and paying for it on top of it all.” The rest of the audience no doubt would be women, and how was that “meeting people?”

The drive was short and entirely irritating as Maddie continued to drool over the picture on her phone of this man.

“What’s his name again?” Casey asked before exiting the car.

“Kel,” Maddie told her.

“Kel? Are you serious?” Now Casey was wishing she had driven herself so she could fake a stomach bug and drive home as quickly as possible. What kind of ridiculous stage name was that?

“Yeah, it fits him. You’ll see, along with all the sleeves he has available to play with.” Jana’s eyes lit up.

Casey looked up at the sign over the club or bar or whatever the hell this was supposed to be. “You’ve got to be joking . . .”

Sleeves? That was the name of this sleazy night club with a man in a cage she could manhandle, and who supposedly owned various sleeves she could put over his hard cock? Could it get any more ridiculous?

She sighed and stepped behind them as if in line to do something mundane like catch the bus.

This was absurd. She was a grown woman, in charge of her life. She did not need a man to feel complete.

The door opened and a rush of music took over.

They were welcomed by an all-too-thin, androgynous looking male as soon as the doors closed behind them. Each of them was handed a pen and the appropriate paperwork they had to sign, stating very clearly they were not to reveal what happened in the cage while they were in attendance tonight at the club. No video recordings or pictures were permitted either.

So, how did Maddie manage the photo she took? Casey shoved that thought aside and kept signing her name in the appropriate spots.

Fine—whatever they said was good with Casey. She was going to drink and ignore the idiocy going on in there.

The three women paid the admission price, walked through the dark halls and were admitted inside.

There were black lights surrounding the bar; tables crowded by chairs around them were scattered all around with art deco lighting above each one. It wasn’t enough to impress her.

She took a seat at the bar and as soon as she ordered her favorite drink, a cosmopolitan, she knew she should’ve just gone home. Some dude on the other end was leering at her, and it was obvious he was tipsy with the way he was barely able to hold his own drink without sloshing it all over himself. He looked like he’d forgotten how to operate the knob in his shower with his rumpled clothes, messed up hair and general greasy skin.

She turned away and ignored him, going back to her drink. Simple drink for a simple woman, and if there was a simple way to get out of here, she would’ve.

But it was too late.

The lights that were already dim, lowered and an announcer said, “Time for Kel and his ladies to play.”

“Oh give me a fucking break,” Casey muttered over her drink, sipping it.

A cage was revealed after a thick blue curtain was drawn back. It was set in the corner of the room, and the lighting was a little eerie in that thing.

She strained her neck to see since all the ladies in the room were now standing and hooting and hollering.

“Take a seat,” said the gruff, gritty voice of the caged creature.

The effect was alarming. They all did as they were told, and every one of those ladies seemed overjoyed about obeying the command.

What the hell was this all about?

Casey almost snickered because it reminded her of some poorly written erotica novel with a Dom, thinking he was God’s gift to every ovary around.

“I need quiet,” the voice said.

Once more—the room complied.

Casey’s brow bunched at the bridge of her nose. How silly that these women were frothing at the mouth over a bossy man in a corner.

She took another sip of her drink and let her mind wander.

“I will choose one lady—just one, and she will follow my demands, or she will suffer the consequences,” the man said loud enough for all to hear.

That voice though—my God, no wonder some of them were hysterical. It was so deep and melodic, and sounded like a man with roughened vocal chords after a couple of rounds of pounding, sweaty, animalistic sex. It made her think of the perfect phone sex operator.

Good Lord, she turned away, but tried to stay out of the drunken dude’s radar across the way.

“I hope he picks me,” some woman at the bar whispered and then giggled.

“I don’t,” Casey murmured to herself. No way was she buying this act.

“Who’s first?” the man in the cage asked, sending the crowd into a ripple of shifting women, almost lunging out of their seats. “Well, how bad do you want it?”

He wasn’t mic’ed, but she could hear him easily. She could also ignore him, so she went back to draining her glass.

“Hundred bucks right here!” her friend, Maddie screamed with a deafening screech.

She lurched through the crowd of people, and Casey’s eyes went wide as she followed Maddie’s movement over to the cage.

Was he going to let her inside?

Her mouth went dry, and she failed to blink. The man was dressed in nothing but dark jeans and his wrists were bound together with leather cuffs.

“What’s up with the bondage shit?” Casey asked herself.

The bartender, a really athletic looking guy with sandy colored hair and light blue eyes, leaned in and answered, “He must be in the mood to take a risk tonight. Usually he’s chained to the bars so he can’t escape. But then he always gets loose by the end of the show.”

“Why? What’s so great about that?” she asked, taking another sip.

“The chains are unbreakable, and he has no key in there with him, yet somehow, he busts them apart.”

“Big deal . . .”. What kind of idiot thought this was entertainment? So he figured out how to turn magic tricks into smut and BDSM. Didn’t seem all that creative to her.

“When no one’s looking,” he added. He pointed around the room, still leaning toward her. “And does it look like any of them are going to take their eyes off him anytime soon? Part of the attraction is to see if they can break him free as well. If they can, the cage gets covered, and they get a half hour alone with him without prying eyes.” His eyebrows jiggled up and down.

“Oh.” She swiveled back around on her stool and watched Maddie with added interest now.

“I can do it,” Maddie grunted, her arms through the bars, her hands pulling at his cuffs, trying to break them apart.

Nothing happened other than her brow being covered with dots of perspiration and her tits jiggling around.

She looked like an idiot up there.

“How about a kiss for my trouble?” Maddie asked.

“You know the rules. No kissing. You can pet me if I allow it, you can break me free, but no mouth on any of my skin,” her captive man said.

“Yeah, you’re on the inside anyway.” For some stupid reason, Casey was mesmerized by him. How to get in that cage? Was there a way?

There had to be simple explanations for these cheap tricks.

She turned back to the bartender, but kept her eyes riveted on the magician behind the bars. “Has anyone ever broken him free?”

“Nope. That’s why he does it at the end, to prove it can be done. They just have to want it bad enough.” He wiped down the bar around her.

“And what’s the most anyone’s ever paid for a shot?”

“A thousand. That woman got to go in the cage with him. We thought if anyone could break him out, she could. It didn’t work though, and she almost fainted from the exertion. That woman was determined, too. I still see her at least once month. We gave her a full half hour to work on it. Didn’t matter how much time she had,” he said, drumming his fingers on the countertop.

She turned her attention back to the cage and her friend. No one had ever told her before coming here that women bid on the chance to break him free.

“Please!” Maddie wiggled around some more up there. It was evident she was begging to grope him, and it was difficult to tell if he was allowing her to stroke him through his jeans or not.

A primal wave of possessiveness hit Casey, and she bit the inside of her cheeks to fight off the urge to run up there and rip Maddie’s hands off him.

Why did she feel this way? She didn’t know this man, yet she couldn’t look away.

Even from this distance, she could tell he was insanely gorgeous, but that wasn’t the draw. There was this imperceptible charge in the room and it was coming directly from him.

It compelled her to want to free him—to have him for her own.

No wonder these women were snarling maniacs, ready to slit each other’s throats for the chance to ogle him up close and maybe touch him.

Casey’s mind raced, her thighs vibrated with lust. Enough!

She got up, headed to the bathroom to clear her head.

On her way back there, she spotted Jana who’d disappeared almost the moment they entered the place.

She was making out while seated at a corner table with one of the few men in attendance.

Hmm . . . Casey might be stuck here for a while. Fabulous.

She pushed the door open to the restroom, went inside and like an imbecile just stood there, leaning against the counter.

It was clean enough.

“C’mon. Finish your drink. Quit being such a moron,” she told herself then ran her hand over her hair as if it’d been displaced from rolling around with Kel.

Kel? She wasn’t familiar with him, so why did she feel like she was comfortable enough to refer to him this way?

Screw this.

She marched back out to the bar, gulped down more than half of what was left of her drink and then turned back to the cage.

Maddie was pouting, but it appeared her time was up.

She gripped the bars, rattled them and actually snapped her jaw at him.

Was she insane?

“My God.” A hint of jealousy tinged Casey’s tone.

“Kel’s changed his mind—he’ll give more than one lady a chance tonight to try and break him free . . . Next up, the lovely Darla,” the announcer said.

That’s when she realized the announcer was the bartender behind her.

He was lowering his voice when he used the microphone but the intonation and cadence was clearly his.

All tricks and deception—this place was repugnant in so many ways, yet she stayed seated.

Maddie spotted Casey at the bar and worked her way over to her with a look of frustration on her face.

“Goddammit, I didn’t get to touch it,” Maddie said when she plopped down onto the barstool next to her.

“Why did you think he’d even let you?” Casey chuckled and shook her head, downing the rest of her drink.

“The last time I was here, women were all over him. He had that cock of his out for all to see. He’s playing the crowd tonight, working them up to a frenzy first—the bastard.” Maddie signaled for the bartender to come take her order.

After a few minutes, she was nursing a long island ice tea and bitching about how she didn’t bring any more cash with her, and they needed more to attempt freeing the caged beast at the other end of the room.

Casey groaned.

“I know . . . Such a waste of a magnificent man,” Maddie said.

That wasn’t why Casey was making that grating sound—only enough cash for two or three drinks. Not enough to buy herself into the cage, and if she went up there, that was the only outcome possible.

As Maddie continued to piss on about how unfair it all was, Casey continued to stare at him from afar.

No way he looked as good close up as Maddie kept insisting.

That kind of stunning beauty was impossible; it was already almost impossible to look at from this distance without feeling breathless.

Casey shifted in her seat and then heard an unmistakable, “You. Your turn.”

She swiveled toward the cage and Kel was staring straight at her, pointing.

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