Unconventional (The Manhattanites #4) (16 page)

Read part of Avery Aster’s upcoming stand-alone, male/female/male erotic ménage romance
Unique (The Manhattanites)
http://averyaster.com/unique/

Unique

Avery Aster

(Content Warning: The abduction of a Utah virgin by two British thieves who just happen to be identical twins leads to forced submission, D/s, spanking, ménage, voyeurism, and major cray cray!)

Dumped by Europe’s hottest disc jockey, Kiki Izatt jumps into her career, taking New York society by storm. In charge of Brill Inc.’s jewelry client, Paloma Gems, she’s ready to show the industry who sparkles.

Superstar DJ Dejon had no choice but to cut ties. If Kiki blew his techno-spin cover by discovering his real intentions to hijack The Style Gala, she’d ruin his crusade to return the blood diamonds to his West African people. Dejon couldn’t go back on his word to his brother Dash, even if it meant not marrying Kiki.

When Dash Turay accidently shoots and injures Kiki while stealing Paloma’s most valuable stone, he’s taken with her. Dash wants her. He must have her! So what if Kiki is from Utah and promised her virginity to Dejon? Dash will find a way to get her in his bed, with or without Dejon’s approval.

Familiar with Sister Wives, Kiki wonders if it’s time to try her hand at Brother Husbands!

Hello, Gorgeous Reader,

OMFG!
I have a free ebook for you when you join my newsletter
http://www.eepurl.com/CQ665

While all of The Manhattanites novels may be read as stand-alone and an HEA for every couple, there is a returning cast of characters, such as Taddy Brill. When I wrote her virgin assistant from Utah in
Unscrupulous
, I shit you not, I received a gazillion emails.

Readers adored Kiki’s innocence. She brought sweetness against the ruthless divas strutting Park Avenue. My own response was something along the lines of, “WTF!?!” I never intended to pen Kiki’s romance.

Similar to many young women, who leave their hometown in pursuit of self-discovery, Kiki yearns to make her mark on the world. Indeed relatable, I had
no
effin’ clue
how Kiki’s innocence fit into this erotic soap opera. Did you? Yet, her voice kept begging to be told, saying, “Pop my cherry, Avery Aster.”

My creative juices jonesed for a smut-tastic novel for Kiki with her current boyfriend Dejon and his
hawt
twin brother Dash. A ménage! While plotting this story, I’d become fascinated by Europe’s elite jewelry thieves, The Pink Panthers, known for the $105 million diamond heist in Paris at Harry Winston. Thus…Kiki’s drama began.

Just as you found Kiki in
Unscrupulous
, she’s at the center of another scandal, causing her to question herself and everyone around her, all in the name of love. After reading her story, be sure to add
Uncensored
, Vive’s romance, to your reading list. Miss Farnworth, the liquor heiress, is drying out at a tomato farm in The Hamptons.

Feels Like Forever,

Avery

[email protected]

I Love Kiki Izatt

“We sure didn’t have ‘Keep Sweet’ girls like her back home in London. I’d met Kiki Izatt online and knew in a second, she was
unique
. Capturing my interest with her butterscotch-blonde hair and electric blue eyes, I lost count of the number of times I…uhhh…got
off
staring at the tasty photos she’d sent me.

“Totally fetch!

“As she began to tell me more about herself, my suspicions grew. Perhaps this girl had been a prank, set up by my
wanker
of a brother, Dash. Who’d ever heard of a twenty-something, virgin Manhattanite, looking as beautiful as she did, who didn’t drink or party? Not me!

“Blimy. After we’d met and spent that weekend together at the Cannes Film Festival, the one where she’d refused to even let me see her in her knickers…I had to be with her. Two years later, I got up enough courage (and her father’s blessing) and asked her to marry me. Kiki said YES!
I love you, babe
.” —Dejon Turay, globetrotting disc jockey to the stars.

Perverted Fucktards

Time: Present Day

Location: Held Hostage Somewhere Stinky

Oh, my gosh. I died. I must have.

Dang that Style Gala. Who knew that job promotion was gonna be the death of me? This has to be Heaven. It sure don’t smell like a jar of Marshmallow Fluff as I’d imagined. It reeks in here. God doesn’t send virgins to Hell. Does he?

Well, God, if you’re tapping my thoughts, you cannot punish me by counting anal play, cunnilingus and a blow job as full-blown premarital sex—can you? And I only did it once.

Kiki tried to open her eyes. Wait. They were taped shut. A momentary flush of panic caught up with her brain. She attempted to call out for help. Hardly able to move her tongue, something tasting cottony stuffed her mouth.

What the…?

She went to yank out whatever was wedged between her teeth and peel the tape off her eyes, but her arms, they wouldn’t budge.
No!
They were tied behind her back.
This isn’t real. Wake up.
Her ankles felt fastened to the legs of whatever she sat on.

Awake. Kiki wasn’t dreaming. A horrific realization rocketed through every fiber of her body. She’d worked the jewelry industry’s most prestigious event, the Style Gala in Manhattan, and gotten herself abducted. Rich, black fear greeted her consciousness. As she tried to take it all in, a freakish sound stole her attention, just as someone had taken her freedom.

The metal humming sound of something being cut came from a nearby room.

Uh-oh.
She’d heard that dreaded noise before, when Kiki’s older sisters had made her watch her first and last horror flick,
Texas Chainsaw Massacre
.

Growing up conservative, her mother, Hannahette, hadn’t allowed them to see anything other than G-rated movies. At that moment, she knew why.
I am not sticking around to see if that’s Leatherface making this racket.

Pressing her heels to the floor, she pushed up with her legs to hop in whatever she was attached to. Perhaps a wooden chair—that’s what it felt like under her butt.

It squeaked then slid an inch or so.

Unfamiliar with wearing platform stilettos, she had barely been able to walk in them earlier that night from the limo to the party, let alone leap in them. Mad at herself for taking them from the Easton Essentials showroom, she’d only worn them at the request of her client, Lex Easton. Her job at Brill, Inc. was to get glam, although that day, the close-to-six-inch heel might’ve cost Kiki her life.

“Gurl, dig those Easton pumps into the linoleum, keep it movin’.” In her head, she heard her roommate, co-worker and best friend, Duckie Capri, telling her what to do. “Kick it up. Go!” Exactly what Duckie would’ve said if he’d been beside her right then.

Breasts bouncing, she scooted but came to an abrupt stop from the pain. Why did her head hurt so badly?
I fell when the bullet hit me. A man in a mask…picked me up…after he shot me.
Throbbing jolts of fire tore through her left shoulder, making her whimper. That’s where she’d been struck. Her entire body ached.

“She’s awake,” someone behind her shouted.

The sawing halted.

Startled, Kiki straightened. She’d heard
that
voice before. A man, one she knew, but who?

He shushed her.

A hot, fed-up tear ran down her left cheek. Another streaked her right.

“Don’t cry.” He removed her hoop earrings. Rubbing her lobes, he told her not to get upset.

Sounds of running water, maybe from a faucet, not too far in front of her, reached her. It distracted her from figuring out who this was, and onto who else was in the room.

More apprehension waved through her. There must’ve been two people with her. Then the water seemed to quit. She tried to listen for others, but didn’t detect any.

“Here,” the second guy ordered. “Wash her.” A splash of something sprinkled her arms. Had he sat a bucket on the floor next to her?

A squeak, similar to what her chair had made moments before, came toward her. Sitting, the first guy caressed her face. “You’re all right.” Wet hands came up, dripping soapy-scented droplets on her face and neck.

The water ran down her blouse, past her navel, through her skirt and then stopped between her legs.

Normally the sensation would’ve tickled. At that moment, it was nothing shy of utter torture. A small puddle collected at her cunt.

Kiki trembled.

He wiped her face, hard, maybe removing dirt. What felt to be his lips pressed against her forehead…kissing her. An exhale of his breath intimately warmed her face. Kiki swore she could hear his heart beating louder than her own. Then he mumbled to himself.

She couldn’t make out what he said, but this kidnapped, tied-up, saw-cutting, hand-bathing thing wasn’t good.

Horrible thoughts raced through her mind, flashing images of what might happen next.
I’m gonna be sick.
Acid came up from her insides, hitting the back of her throat. She swallowed—as best she could—and pushed her disgust back down.

No one she knew or loved would do this to her. Would they? Kiki didn’t have any enemies. She barely had any friends. Almost everyone had been with her at the Style Gala mingling. Then suddenly, the screams had started when the guns had gone off.

His unwelcomed hands, smoothly, effortlessly unbuttoned her blouse.

Thick as a foot of snow, the room’s cold air came over her nakedness. Her nipples distended.

Screw this
. She sunk the soles of her feet into her stilettos and rocked herself, back and forth, hard and fast, in the chair.
Go away.
Kiki didn’t want him to touch her.
I saved myself for my wedding night.