One Hot Summer Read online

  ONE HOT SUMMER

  Alicia Sparks

  ®

  www.loose-id.com

  Warning

  This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id® e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  * * * * *

  This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable.

  One Hot Summer

  Alicia Sparks

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published by

  Loose Id LLC

  1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-2924

  Carson City NV 89701-1215

  www.loose-id.com

  Copyright © August 2007 by Alicia Sparks

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

  ISBN 978-1-59632-527-2

  Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

  Printed in the United States of America

  Editor: Olivia Wong

  Cover Artist: April Martinez

  Dedication

  Dedicated to my husband, who puts up with me and to my wonderful editor, Olivia, who always makes me feel like I know what I’m doing ‑‑ and who is not afraid to see how many pencils it takes, all in the name of research.

  Prologue

  It was the night before graduation when Summer first decided to walk on the wild side. She’d spent four years learning the inner workings of the Dewey Decimal System and helping the university library update their card catalog to an all-digital system. It hadn’t been the most exciting time she could recall, to say the least.

  Tonight was going to change all that.

  “You ready yet?” her roommate called from the next room. She and Sheila had shared an apartment for the past two years, and they had made a deal that on graduation night they would live out one of their wildest fantasies. Sheila wanted to go to a strip club and dance on one of the poles. Summer had a different idea.

  “Almost ready!” Summer pursed her lips together to make sure her red lipstick was just right; then she held her breath as she zipped up the red halter dress, fully aware of how her breasts pushed forward and out.

  When she finally opened the bathroom door, Sheila stood there in the tiniest miniskirt Summer had ever seen.

  “What do you think?” Her roommate turned around, showing Summer the back of the dress.

  “You look pretty hot. You sure you wanna do this?”

  “You bet. We’ll meet here after midnight and trade stories.” Sheila grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze.

  “Is the cab waiting?”

  “Yep.”

  They raced downstairs, pumped up by the energy of the night’s plans, and squealed as they slid into the back seat of the cab.

  “The Combat Zone,” Sheila directed the cabbie. The row of bars and clubs that lined the downtown section had earned the name over the years.

  The driver smiled. “You ladies are looking good enough to eat.”

  Summer was hoping to have that effect on the crowd at the S & M club, The Edge. She’d heard about the place and knew it was where she wanted to be. She’d spent too long denying her affinity for bondage; tonight, she had an appointment with one of the masters of that lifestyle ‑‑ Master Marcus was the name she’d been given over the phone.

  As she and Sheila rode hand in hand, she wondered what a dominant man would look like. Would he wear a mask? Be clad in black leather? Would he tease and torment her, push her to the edge of her limitations?

  The cab finally slowed and came to a stop. Sheila took care of the fare while Summer ran her gaze up and down the street. The music and lights from the clubs poured out into the night as people moved in small groups from one club to the next.

  “I’ll see you after midnight.” Sheila placed a kiss on her cheek, then wiped away the lipstick.

  “Stay safe,” Summer whispered.

  “Always.”

  Summer made her way to the door of The Edge and presented her I.D. She was too nervous to get a good look at the doorman. Too nervous and too embarrassed. Did he realize what she was here for? Probably. This was not a casual club for observers. According to her research, it was the real deal.

  The man nodded in her direction and opened the door for her, allowing her entry into a hidden world of pleasure and pain.

  Music swirled around her and smoke rose from the dance floor. Somehow, in the mix, she managed to make her way to the bar. She felt her stomach begin to twist into knots as she considered what she’d planned to do tonight. She was about to change her mind when a hand landed on her shoulder.

  Turning slowly, she felt her breath hang in her throat.

  “You don’t look like you belong here,” the owner of the hand said, his voice a deep, low whisper.

  “First time,” she managed. “I made an appointment.”

  “Follow me.”

  Summer turned and faced the dance floor, close on the heels of the man as he wove in and out of couples and ménages. The strobe lights flashed, illuminating the smoke, illuminating the crowd ‑‑ which consisted of bodies entangled in various positions. It seemed as if an orgy would erupt on the dance floor at any moment. Summer wanted to close her eyes to the sights, but fascinated, she was unable to look away.

  Her pussy grew wet with anticipation as she watched others groping, licking, and enjoying each other’s bodies, partaking in their own pleasure.

  The man leading her stopped short of a hallway and pointed to a door. “In here.”

  She nodded, taking a deep breath. It was now or never. If she turned away, she would never be able to try this again. Still, her heart pounded at the thought.

  She entered tentatively. Candlelight flickered in the room, and slow, soft music played in the background. The sounds from the club had become completely drowned out as the door shut silently behind her, leaving her in a soundproofed room.

  A man moved toward her, his face hidden from view ‑‑ but naked from the waist up. As the light flickered, she took in the expanse of his chest. Biting her bottom lip, she took a step forward when he stretched out a hand to her.

  Clasping his fingers, she stepped into the candlelight. Part of her was lost in the fantasy of being taken by a stranger. The other part of her was curious about the man who would be fulfilling that fantasy. Hoping it wasn’t against the rules, she looked up at him. Then inhaled sharply.

  “Professor Welks?”

  The man dropped her hand and shifted more clearly into view. “Shit,” he muttered.

  “I have to go.” She stumbled backward, certain her professor of library science, with whom she’d not had the best relationship to date, stood in front of her. He’d given her hell in the classroom, and now he was here, half naked, serving as “Master Marcus.”

  “Wait!” he called. “What are you doing here?”

  In the full light of the candles, she could see that he was, in fact, her professor. “I… It’s a mistake.”

  The sweet fervor that had quivered between her thighs earlier had disappeared. There had always been s
omething domineering about Professor Welks, but to see him in a club like this and know that he’d intended to be her trainer was more than she could handle.

  “Don’t go, Summer…” His voice was lost in the music from the main room as she opened the door.

  “This never happened,” she tossed back as she escaped into the hallway. She would never be able to tell Sheila about this night, and she’d never again be able to face the man who had been both a mentor and a nemesis.

  Chapter One

  Every time Summer Burgundy was in the same room with Marcus Welks, the only thing she could think of was the first line from Edgar Allan Poe’s The Cask of Amontillado: “The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could, but when he ventured upon insult I vowed revenge.”

  It seemed as if Marcus went out of his way to insult her, either with his words or his manners. The way he peered over his glasses at her and stroked his goatee as if he were in deep thought irritated her to no end. Even now, as they shelved books and prepared to close down the library for the night, she could feel his gaze on her every now and then, as if he were waiting for her to screw up.

  How she had been passed over for him as head librarian, she didn’t know. Sure, he’d been her professor in college, but she certainly had more experience in the special collections at the state library than anyone else. Unfortunately, her higher-ups had apparently wanted a man for the job. A damned exasperating man whose time had come. She had three months to prove herself to both Marcus and the bosses, but then, a lot could happen in three months. Still, by the end of the summer, she was likely to be worn out from the level of frustration the man seemed to bring out in her.

  She fingered the edge of the book she’d been holding for well over two minutes and attempted furtively to size him up once again. Why was he such a mystery? Why did he insist on looking at her at certain times and through her at others? Why was it that he refused to answer any questions about his former jobs? And why did he look so damned sexy in that pulled-together academic way? From his perfectly pressed khaki pants to his starchy white shirts, he was too polished for her liking, as if he were a different man from the one so many years earlier in that S & M club.

  Then there was the way she’d occasionally catch a glimpse of the muscular outline of his chest beneath his perfect exterior. Sometimes, he’d stretch above her, shelving a book that was just out of her reach. She’d have to stop herself from thinking the most wicked thoughts when that happened. Then, too, the scent of his aftershave would make her swoon for half a second before she reminded herself that she didn’t like Marcus. No, didn’t like him at all. Everything about him from the slight, dull plaid pattern of his ties to the perfectly manicured nails at the tips of his fingers was against all that she’d ever been interested in.

  But there was that other side of him, the side that had fueled her fantasies for the past several years. She had shared those fantasies with her roommate years ago, pretending that she had spent a wild night with the Master himself. Instead, she’d actually spent the night with her vibrator, wondering what it would have been like had she stayed.

  Too many people underestimated librarians. Beneath her tight bun and pencil skirts, she was a wild child. Right now, she’d like nothing more than to knock off Marcus’s glasses, mess up his hair, and line his neck with berry red lipstick. Even though they were nowhere near the beach, she could imagine his hard, tanned body glistening in the sun. How a librarian such as he managed to maintain a sexy, natural glow was beyond her. Hours in the tanning bed had given her a hint of color, but it hadn’t turned her to the golden hue of her boss.

  But she was staring and needed to focus on her plans for revenge. He’d lose his job before she was through with him; then she wouldn’t have to worry about her fantasies of cornering him in the human sexuality section and showing him the best use for those big, wooden library tables.

  A smile crossed her lips as she picked up Best Served Cold. Vengeance. The more she thought about it, the more she liked the sound of it. He’d never know what hit him. Shelving the book, she turned and flashed him a sensual smile. One thought was on her mind as she continued her work. It’s gonna be a long, hot summer.

  Marcus caught himself daydreaming for the fiftieth time this afternoon. The slit up the rear of Summer’s skirt exposed way too much of her thighs, and the lines going up the back of her stockings reminded him of sins he’d thought he had long forgotten. He’d taken this job to escape from his past, not to find the embodiment of temptation lingering at every turn. From the way she absentmindedly chewed on the end of her pencil to the way she leaned over the circulation desk to greet their patrons, she oozed sexuality. Of course, hers was the restrained kind, the kind he knew everything in the world about unleashing. Or had once known.

  He couldn’t help but remember the night-that-almost-was when Summer, fresh out of college, had come to his haven, to his club, looking for a master to show her the ways of domination and submission ‑‑ D/s. It had been his job before he’d moved here, to take women like her and force them to live out their fantasies by giving them the permission to submit and be the sexual creatures they longed to be.

  He’d like nothing more than to tear down Summer’s perfectly positioned bun and slide her skirt up to her hips to see if she wore an old-fashioned garter belt beneath her slim-fitting skirt. Would her panties be nothing more than a wisp of fabric or would they hug her curves, covering up everything he wanted to sink his fingers into? He wondered if a hint of lace would tease the edges of her breasts when he popped the buttons off her black button-up shirt.

  Daydreaming about Summer would get him nowhere, though. She disliked him, and she’d made it more than clear that she wanted his job and would stop at nothing to oust him. At least that’s what her nasty comments said. Her body language and attire said another thing entirely. For all he knew, the cleverly sensual clothes were a way to tempt him straight into a sexual harassment lawsuit.

  She glanced at him, a book in her hand, and licked her lips as if she were inviting him to walk across the room and take a taste of her for himself. Following up the motion with a wicked smile, the whole package of her standing in front of him was almost like a gift-wrapped provocation.

  Oh, yes, he was very quickly losing his resolve to stay away from her. As a master of domination, even a former one, he knew what women wanted, and he knew that this one was tormenting him beyond belief.

  As he worked to keep his mind off her and finish the task at hand, one thought lingered in his mind. It’s gonna be a long, hot summer.

  Chapter Two

  “Miss Burgundy.” His voice was rich and deep and always managed to send a slight shiver down her back, even when she was sure that wasn’t his intention. He also insisted on using her last name instead of “Summer,” even though she had repeatedly asked him to call her by her first name.

  “Yes?” She turned to see him staring at her again, this time looking as if he could eat her alive, and not in the good sense, either. As usual, he refused to answer until she crossed the room to him. She placed her book on the counter with a thunderous clap. The air conditioning was dead on the third floor today, and sweat was already trickling down her back. She didn’t need his accusing tone and narrowed eyes to make her even more uncomfortable. “What do you need?” She pushed a limp strand of hair out of her eyes.

  “Need?” He raised an eyebrow in that annoying way that made her wonder if he’d even heard her. Everything with him seemed to have a double meaning. “I’ll tell you what I need.” He leaned over the counter slightly so that his breath fell across her face. It was all she could do not to close her eyes and moan.

  “Please do,” she managed.

  “I need you to enter your damned password into the computer. You’ve locked me out.”

  She stifled a smile. “Oh. Is that all? Sorry. I must not have been thinking.” She had intentionally reset the password, determined to make his day as miserable as hers had been
. At least fifty times today, he had sent her to the third floor, that sweltering den of government documents and academic journals, the land that was usually untouched. The influx of graduate students from the local college told her that more than one of them must be working against a deadline.

  “Obviously.” The word was barely audible beneath his breath.

  “This is all you have to do.” Moving behind the counter, she stood in front of him and slowly typed in her password. F-U-C-K-Y-O-U.

  “Is that an invitation?” Behind her, he chuckled, which was probably the first time she had heard anything other than a growl from him. “Tell me, Summer, do you know what the punishment is for locking your boss out of the computer?”

  “I have no idea, O lord and master.” She had only been joking, but as soon as the words passed through her lips, she wished she hadn’t said them.

  “There’s always a punishment for insolent behavior. If you don’t learn that soon, this will be a tedious summer, indeed.”

  His breath brushed across the back of her neck, forcing her to close her eyes and try to think clearly. She was not going to flirt with danger by allowing herself to be this turned on by him. Her mind might reject her attraction to him, but at the same time, her body rebelled against such reservations; she felt her legs spread slightly, as if she were expecting him to reach down and feel how wet she had suddenly become.

  “You’ve got access now, so I don’t see the problem.” Her voice trembled, and she refused to turn around for fear of looking into his eyes and seeing the same kind of fire burning there that she felt gnawing at her insides. Thankfully, the library was closed, so no one other than Marcus could see how much the heat was affecting her.

  “I see a problem. You need to be taught a lesson. You slam books around, mess with the order of things, and then smile and shrug your shoulders as if there’s nothing to keeping this place in perfect running order. You don’t seem to appreciate the work…the discipline…”