Book 3 in the Club Rio Brava series.
Pediatric surgeon Elle Drake may be conventional in her professional life, but she likes her sex kinky and hot--hot enough that she can shed her inhibitions and let go. Though she enjoys playing with the Doms at Club Rio Brava, she's beginning to wish for a Dom of her own. Not a masked partner at the club, but someone she can count on for hot sex as well as friendship. She's fairly sure no such man exists for her.
Rancher Trace Williams is everything she's ever wanted in a man, except his lovemaking's almost pure vanilla. A word from his sister sets him on the path to Dominance--and the key to Elle's heart.
Publisher Note: The Club Rio Brava series is spun off A Mutual Favor. The stories in the Club Rio Brava series originally comprised the Members Only series from another publisher, but they have been completely rewritten for Ellora's Cave.
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November 13, 2009
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Excerpt from Unexpected Control by Ann Jacobs
Trace had never before given up on anything he really wanted, and he wasn't about to do it now. Early on Friday evening, he started to dial Elle then decided to wait until he was almost there. Surprise her, he thought, shrugging into a shearling-lined leather jacket over a flannel work shirt and his usual jeans. Good, he thought, noting the temperature on the way to his car. It had warmed up some this afternoon. As he pulled out of the ranch driveway onto the highway, he picked up his cell phone and speed-dialed Elle's number. This time he wasn't taking no for an answer. Just hearing her soft "hello" after the second ring got him hard.
He tried to keep his voice stern, confident. "I'm coming into town and dropping off tickets for the Cowboys' game to Mark and Lynn. I'll pick you up in about forty-five minutes. You're spending the weekend with me at the ranch, and there won't be any sneaking away from me this time."
He heard her indrawn breath, felt a long pause before she said, "Okay." That she didn't argue shocked him, but he wasn't about to complain.
Neither was he going to indulge in the flowers-and-candy banter he doubted would solidify his characterization of a sexual dominant. "Wear something sexy," he said in his best imitation of a drill sergeant barking orders, before hanging up and maneuvering onto the San Antonio beltway.
* * * * *
Three-quarters of an hour? Staying the weekend? What had come over Trace? Elle had hardly recognized his commanding voice, the air of command she'd never experienced with him. All the thoughts that had been tumbling in her head since his proposal seemed to come to a screeching halt when he'd practically ordered her to be ready. A fantasy in her head, or a tentative dream coming true? She didn't know. It seemed to be a sign that it was time for her to be brave, risk it all.
Sexy? Elle would show him sexy, and in doing so she'd reveal what it took to satisfy her sexually. Rifling through the bag she took to the club, Elle grabbed a black lace thong and lace-up leather bustier. Damn. Getting the laces tightened up the back without any help was quite a task, but she managed. Taking a good look in the full-length mirror, she fluffed her hair and frowned. She had no idea what had come over Trace, but she'd chalk his sudden demands up to a benevolent fate.
Makeup. She needed makeup, a lot more than the ladylike application she wore for work and on their frequent dates. She stepped into the bathroom and took out the war paint--dark eye liner, mascara, sparkly eye shadow, rose-colored lipstick and pale pink blush. No time for fresh foundation or concealer. Despite her initial surge of confidence, Elle noticed her hands shaking as she recreated the look she'd adopted for her visits to the club.
A coil of anticipation swirled in her vitals, the way she sometimes felt at Rio Brava. Exhilaration and nervousness competed in her head. While one part of her loved that this was happening with Trace, another part of her worried about what was going to happen. Maybe she'd misread his air of command and he'd just been cranky when he called. She slipped her feet into black stiletto heels, grabbed a sheepskin-lined khaki trench coat, and she was ready.
Ready to gamble that Trace would accept her kink and want her anyhow...maybe even want to join her in the sexual games she needed to make her come. Her pussy twitched with anticipation and more than a little fear.
Whatever she did, she didn't want to lose him.
By the time he knocked and she went to the door to let him in, Elle was shivering, partly with sexual excitement but also with the trepidation she couldn't shake. What if Trace's idea of dressing sexy was a little black sheath dress and killer heels? "Come in," she said, smiling up at him as she held the front of her coat closed to hide what she had on underneath it.
Before she could reach up on tiptoe to give him a kiss, he took her mouth. Unlike his usual casual pecks, this kiss demanded the speeding pulse and jackhammer heartbeat that had her breathless as he forced his tongue between her lips and dragged her against his hard, fit body. He used his hands to knead her butt and moved his hips against hers as if he intended to fuck her then and there. When he finally let her go, she stepped back and looked him in the eye.
He didn't flinch. "Come on. Did you pack a suitcase?"
"No." Where was he going with this unfamiliar macho posturing?
He caught her elbow and practically dragged her to her bedroom. Damn, he'd never done that before. "Grab a bag and toss in some jeans and a shirt, and whatever you want to wear to your office on Monday. Hurry." He gave her a sharp slap on the ass that made her juices start to flow and her nipples tingle.