Welcome to the Dungeon Crawl. Each Wednesday, writers of BDSM will be sharing snippets from their work, and folks will be crawling round to each of them and enjoying, and hopefully adding lots of cool books to their to be read lists.

I hope you enjoyed all my snippets from Stately Pleasures. Now I’m moving on to my co-authored novel, Grand Slam, to get you in the mood for my next Raw Talent book, Sweet Spot, as well as the French Open. I co-wrote this super-hot sports romance with my good friend, Lily Harlem. Don’t forget to scroll down when you’re done reading and go and check out the other blogs on the hop. Happy crawling!

He placed his hands on his hips, kept his back to me. “Come here, Marie.”

“Why?” I looked at the back of his head, how his dark hair sat like silken fingers on his collar.

“Do as I ask.”

I was about to retort that I’d do no such thing. I was his psychologist and I’d stay in my chair, but something in me wanted to comply with his request. Perhaps it was the way he’d said it, as if I had no choice but to go to him, or maybe it was some kind of magnetism his sexy aura gave off that pulled me in like a fish on a line.

Placing the notebook and pen on the chair, I moved to the window and stood next to him, about a foot away.

“Some people like pain,” he said, still not looking at me.

“Masochists you mean?”

“Yes, I suppose.”

Shit, was he trying to tell me that he enjoyed the pain the accident had left him with? If so, we really needed to discuss this. “That’s not the majority of people though.”

“No, but more than you think. And some people like administering pain.” He turned to me, cocked his head slightly and moved into the space I’d left between us.

I looked into his eyes. Swallowed and tasted his cologne as it traveled into my nostrils and then laced my tongue. “Would you consider them to be good people, Travis? These individuals that like to hurt others.”

“I’ve known a few people who like to give and receive higher sensations, and most of them I consider to be good friends as well as good people.”

I hesitated, felt his body heat radiating toward me, wrapping around me as I pondered his words. We were close, very close, and his consuming presence made logical thinking much harder than normal. “I’m not quite sure what you’re telling me.”

“You talk about pain like it’s a bad thing, Marie.”

“It is.”

He smiled but it wasn’t a sweet smile, more like one of a hunter who’d spotted prey.

“Pain is unpleasant for a reason,” I said. “Because it’s bad.”

“I disagree.” He raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes. It was a challenging, cocky gesture.

A tingle snaked its way up my spine and threatened to wreak havoc in my body by turning into a tremble. But I beat it down. I wouldn’t let a patient get to me this way. I was the one supposed to be holding the reins here.
“Maybe, Marie, you should open your mind to new ideas with a little more grace.”

“I fail to see how I haven’t been graceful in discussing your theory that pain is good.”

“Can we keep it that way?”

“I hope so.”

“In that case,” he flicked his attention from my eyes and looked at my hair, “would you like me to demonstrate?”
Damn, the guy made me feel tiny. Even though I was wearing heels, his broad chest and wide shoulders were looming over me. “Okay.”

Want more? Grab your copy of Grand Slam here.