Title: Photo Op Author: Sloane Taylor Genre: Erotic Romance Release Date: December 8, 2015 Tour Host: DRC Promotions

Synopsis:

Never mix business with pleasure, unless pleasure is your business. Photojournalist Emily Peters gives herself the perfect birthday gift - a weekend in Paris. Her excitement builds when she hits the scene of the exclusive S&G Club. Exposing the truth behind their private pleasure chambers and the elite who frequent them will be the diamond in her career crown. At least Em thinks so until she’s tied up in knots by the Devil himself. British restaurateur Nicholas Caine visits Paris to check on his S&G Club investment and to sample its many benefits. Nick’s not on the hunt until he encounters a tiger that pretends to be a kitten. There’s no doubt she’ll satisfactorily flex her claws given the right incentive. What starts as a prime photo opportunity evolves into a weekend of erotic fantasies as Nick awakens Emily’s dark passions.

Buy Photo Op:

Amazon - BN - iBooks - Kobo - Smashwords

Excerpt

“These are the voyeur rooms.” Emily jumped at the deep voice in the quiet hallway. Dammit. She’d been caught snooping and had no plausible excuse to save her nosey ass. Her hunky dessert server nodded to the long line of wooden doors on either side of the deep red plush carpet. “Perhaps you would like a glimpse inside one?” Offense is the best defense. Sexy as he was, a girl still had to be careful. She drew herself up to her full five-feet-eight-inches. “Is the waitstaff allowed up on the second floor?” “Only by special request of a member.” His lips twitched at the corners. “Do you have any specialties you would like to request, Emily?” “No. And if I did, what business is it of yours?” The broad corridor shrunk to a tunnel as the temperature soared. “Perhaps a cool beverage would soothe your flushed face.” He reached for her elbow, his fingers warm and strong. She surprised herself by not backing away. “Shall we?” “Since we’re going to become new best friends, what’s your name?” She squeaked out the words. “Nicholas Caine.” He trailed his gaze slowly down her body, then back up. “And I hope we will be more than friends.” Her panties filled with moisture. She needed to create a diversion and calm her senses. “You’re British, aren’t you?” “Spot on, but I suspect after twenty years of photographing the world you have learned to place many accents.” His full lips curved into a smile. And her nipples tingled. “To answer your other question, yes I am allowed up here. I happen to be one of the owners.” He twisted the brass handle, opened the carved door, and motioned for her to enter. She stepped across the threshold into another era, something right out of a Louis XVI antechamber. Soft lighting from a table lamp lent a warm glow to the wine-colored leather wingback chair and matching footstool. An antique table held a delicately painted plate laden with foie gras and a crystal bowl piled high with black caviar nestled on a bed of ice. To the other side of the chair a magnum of Moet & Chandon Champagne and two glasses were chilling in a large silver bucket. “Everything close at hand for your friendly voyeur.” Just her misfortune she wasn’t alone. Taking a photograph with him in the room was too damned risky. “We like our members to be happy, contented.” He took a step closer as the door shut with a soft snick. And her heart banged against her rib cage… EXCERPT 2: Nick cocked an eyebrow and refilled her glass. Emily sank onto the gold-lacquered medallion chair. Her rear end slid against the mauve satin fabric and she grappled for the arm with her free hand. “Everything all right?” “Yes, fine. A little warm in here, isn’t it?” She fanned her flushed face before swallowing another cold mouthful. He turned to the brocade-covered wall and a moment later cool air swirled around her. Nick gestured toward a curtain that slid silently open. An overly made-up middle-aged blonde sat on the side of a canopy bed, wearing the hottest red come-fuck-me-heels Emily had ever seen. One skinny leg crossed over the other. Emily sat straighter in her chair, curious to see what would happen next. Purely for research, she tried to convince herself, ignoring the tingle low in her abdomen. The woman leaned back on her outstretched palms and tossed her shoulder length hair. Her long breasts waggled with the movement. A much younger man—tall, muscular, and absolutely lickable—silently entered through a side panel. His muscles rippled as he walked buck-naked toward the bed while his substantial purple cock pointed north. “This appears to be more to your liking.” Nick laid his hands on her bare shoulders. A shiver spiraled through her as he spread his firm fingers across her décolleté. She could only nod as his heat traveled lower to her tight breasts. Nick pressed his thumbs into Emily’s back and massaged the stress kinks out of her tight muscles while he created a greater need between her thighs. She sighed as he caressed her throat, her secret zone no man had yet discovered. EXCERPT 3: “What’s in this room?” Her heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t tell what excited her more, fear or pleasure, but she had her fingers crossed they would complete what he’d started a short time back. “An experience that definitely requires leading up to.” He laid his warm hand over hers as she tried to turn the brass handle. “Emily, what happens in here is not for everyone. Remember where you are.” He studied her. A small frown turned down his lips. “Do you understand me?” A moment of reservation crossed her mind before she nodded. “Let’s go for it.” “As you wish.” He pushed open the oak door with a large ornate dragon carved on the front panel. She wrinkled her nose as jasmine and smoky citrus assailed her the moment she crossed the threshold. The fragrance wasn’t necessarily unpleasant, just pungent. An array of votive and pillar candles lit the red and white room enough for her to make her way to a throne style chair. “You are in my seat.” His voice took on an authoritative tone. “I beg your pardon?” He couldn’t be serious. Nick’s entire demeanor, from his stance to his face, changed to a man in control. “You will move to the side.” She jumped off the uncomfortable chair and was convinced the booze made her do it. “Pour me a drink.” Apparently “please” and “thank you” had obliterated themselves from his vocabulary. The hairs on the back of her neck jumped to attention at his directive. Her brow furrowed as she fingered a bottle of Sake on a silver tray. She glanced over her shoulder at Nick. When the hell had she walked across the room? She carried the drink back to his highness. He had shrugged into a red silk robe embroidered with gold thread and had perched himself on the gilded chair like a king awaiting his handmaiden. His change in attitude excited her. Em glanced around, not wanting to meet his eyes for fear he guessed her little secret, when she spotted the elaborate beaded headdresses that decorated two walls. “Do not even think of it.” He never bothered to look at her, but had somehow sensed her appreciation and desire to wear one of the gem studded crowns. She tossed her head with a haughty air. “I have no idea what you mean.” He ignored her lie and pointed toward another tray. “I’ll have a small plate of sushi.” Emily had had plenty to drink, way over her normal limit, but she wasn’t drunk enough yet to tolerate much more of Nick’s little attitude, no matter how sexy he was. Pick your battles, her mother had always advised. She’d submit one more time, but— The silver tongs slipped from her fingers and clattered on the china plate. “Careful, Emily, I would hate to see you get hurt.” She glanced over her shoulder at his concerned face. From barn boss to tender in a heartbeat confused her. “Okay, Nicky, what the hell is going on here?” She laid his fishplate onto a strange little end table at his right and was careful not to let the fork fall between the intricate open latticework. “You asked to see what was in this room.” He slid an eel roll into his mouth and chewed. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. Her nipples hardened and she forced herself to concentrate on his words. “I decided to give you the full experience, first hand.” “I hope there’s more to this than slavery.” “Much more, my little novice. There is pleasure and teaching too few in this world enjoy.” His lips curved into a sensual smile. “The greatest lesson in life that one can learn is to forgive.” Nick pressed the remote that opened the red silken drapes. A dainty Asian woman swayed from the ceiling bound in a complex design of involved rope twists. She resembled a small bird about to fall to its death, Emily winced as the lady raised her head. The thin rope, running from her neck to her vagina, had to pull like hell against her tender flesh. “It looks painful.” Emily tilted her head to the side, curious to see the expression on the captive’s face. “Not really. There might be a bit of chafing when it’s over, maybe some light stinging, but great care is taken to ensure no injuries occur. It’s all very sophisticated. We use candles along with oils and incense to enhance the experience.” He gestured an arm around their room. “Very much like you see here, which helps to set the voyeur’s mood.” “So what’s this non-painful, lesson learning, stylish form of torment called?” She avoided his eyes, a bit afraid of what might come next. “Kinbaku, which translates to beautiful bondage… EXCERPT 4: Dinner was the most elegant and tasty meal Emily had enjoyed anywhere in the world. She leaned back in her upholstered armchair, savoring the delightful aftertastes of thyme and rosemary, and blocked out the odious reverend along with his fawning entourage. Her nose twitched as a subtle, yet pleasant, aroma surrounded her. “It is pear, madame.” Another tall handsome waiter, looking good enough to eat, stood at her side. Without a word he slid a menu in front of her. She glanced up into large chocolate eyes, and her heart stuttered. “Pardon?” Her voice came out on a whoosh of air. “I noticed your attempt to distinguish the scent. Many of our ladies have your same reaction.” He stirred the air with his large hand. “Late in the evening the air is infused with a hint of cinnamon and chocolate. Tonight we added pear.” His eyes twinkled as if he were sharing a dark secret. “Tempts one to indulge in a decadent dessert. Would you care for one, Ms Peters?” A sweet shiver weaved its way up her spine when he spoke her name. With shaking fingers she gulped her ice water and mentally ordered her oversexed body to behave. “If nothing on the menu appeals to you, Chef Claude would be elated to whip up whatever you prefer.” British and gorgeous. And then his words hit her. Chef Claude. “Is he Claude St. Cyr? The same chef who owns a cooking school?” The waiter from every woman’s fantasy grinned. “One and the same.” What the hell is he doing here? “Ms Peters?” He tapped a well-groomed fingernail on the menu. “What? Oh yes.” She flipped open the leather jacket to scan the tasty treats, her one downfall. The card read like an international list of culinary sexual pleasures. Spotted Dick presented by Jon Bavarian Cream presented by Hans Hot Soufflé presented by Francois Mocha Butter presented by Motumba Emily slipped the cap off her lipstick tube, then did an unhurried swipe along her bottom lip. Just how far do the presenters go? “Do you see anything you like?” His deep voice played havoc with her senses as she squirmed in her damp panties. “Too bad you don’t offer Cumberland Rum Nicky. I enjoyed the decadent pie a few years ago at an up and coming restaurant in London. Can’t remember the name of the place, but I never forgot that perfect dessert.” His tanned face paled as if she’d requested to borrow The Crown Jewels. “Perhaps a dish of Whim Wham?” “No thanks, I’m fanciful enough.” She laughed at her little joke about the true meaning of the Scottish pie. “I’d really like a Benedictine straight up and a cup of black coffee.” He nodded and walked toward the bar area. Of all the waitstaff Emily had encountered or seen during her two hours over dinner, this last was the pièce de la résistance. Sable brown hair caressed his white shirt collar. She’d give anything to run her fingers through the thick waves. The reverend and ladies met with her lickable waiter at the doorway. He stood to the side and gestured for them to go first. The tallest of the women stopped and started up a conversation, but her server backed away the moment she ran her fingers along his jawline. So the help gets to play with the clientele. Emily pulled the cap off her lipstick tube. Smile, I think you’re going to like this one.

About The Author:

Award-Winning author Sloane Taylor is a sensual woman who believes humor and sex are healthy aspects of our everyday lives and carries that philosophy into her books. She writes romances that takes you right into the bedroom. Being a true romantic, all her stories have a happy ever after.

Her books are set in Europe where the men are all male and the North American women they encounter are both feminine and strong. They also bring more than lust to their men's lives.

Taylor was born and raised on the Southside of Chicago. Studly, her mate for life, and Taylor now live in a small home in Indiana and enjoy the change from city life. She is an avid cook and posts new recipes on her blog http://sloanetaylor.blogspot.com/ every Wednesday. The recipes are user friendly, meaning easy. Taylor currently has five romance books released by Toque & Dagger Publishing.