eXcessica publishing
Taken © 2008 by Selena Kitt
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.
This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be access by minors.
Excessica LLC
P.O. Box 127
Alpena MI 49707
To order additional copies of this book, contact:
books@excessica.com
Cover art © 2012 Willsin Rowe
First Edition 2008
A Smashwords Edition
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
Taken
By Selena Kitt
Lizzy's friendship with her older boss, Sarah, turns into something deeper and much more exciting one rainy day after work, and Lizzy finds herself drawn into a world she never knew existed. Sarah has a dominant streak, and as she leads Lizzy into the role of a submissive, the two women become closer than they ever thought possible. But while Sarah, hurt too many times, wears a ring, and tells guys she's "taken," Lizzy knows she secretly longs for a man. Determined to find one for them both to share, Lizzy is just about to give up when a dark, handsome, virile answer shows up right under her nose. Lizzy may think she and Sarah are going to seduce David--but she underestimates their handsome co-worker, and David turns the tables on them both. But will he be able to tame the untameable Sarah?
Warnings: This title contains erotic situations, graphic language, BDSM elements (domination, submission) and a sexy menage a trois (MFF threesome) that gives new meaning to the word "sandwich."
Table of Contents
Chapter One
“What’s the matter, Lizzie?” Sarah squeezed my shoulders, her hair brushing my cheek as she leaned over to peek at the papers strewn over the desk.
“My hundredth hang-up tonight!” I rolled my eyes toward the phone. “They finish half the stupid survey, and then they decide it’s too long and hang up.”
“Don’t sweat it, hon.” She reached across me and gathered my completed surveys. “Don just went home and left me in charge. Let’s knock off ten minutes early.”
I plopped my pencils into a cup and stood, stretching, my shirt pulling up out of my jeans. Sarah poked the eraser end of a pencil at my navel as she passed by, and I laughed, following her toward the office.
“David... Tina... Chad... Stacy... Lynn!” Sarah trailed her hand across each cubicle as we walked by and heads popped up one by one. “Turn ’em in folks! Time to go home.”
I followed her into the office, heading past her toward the small fridge.
“Throw me one.” She sat down, kicking off her heels and putting her bare feet up on Don’s desk.
When I touched a can of Mountain Dew to the sole of her foot, she squealed.
“Nice polish. Can I borrow it?” I tossed the can to her and she studied her toes.
“Sure.”
“I’m outta here.” Stacy slapped her surveys on the desk. “Eight good ones.”
I stuck my tongue out at her overachieving back as she walked away and Sarah grinned. Chad and Lynn left together, arm in arm, without one survey between the two of them completed.
“What a waste.” Sarah sorted surveys on the desk. “Teenage hormones! What were they doing—calling each other?” Tina left her surveys and was gone without a word. David was still putting things together in his cubicle.
“He’s waiting to be alone with you.” I watched him through the two-way glass.
”Not gonna happen.” Sarah snorted. “Besides, work relationships are bad news. The male-female power struggle is tough enough without adding that to it, right?”
I shrugged. “He’s cute.”
Sarah laughed. “How easily you forget that you’re attached at the hip to a certain stud who picks you up here every night…or is there trouble in paradise?”
“No, but…” I grumbled. “He’s not picking me up tonight. He’s going out with ‘the guys.’”
“Aww—so you have to spend a night all alone?” She mock-pouted. “Welcome to my life.”
“Here ya go, Sarah.” David gave me a steady look as he came in the office. He was clearly wishing I wasn't around. She took the surveys and sorted them onto the desk, acknowledging him less than she had anyone else tonight. “So what are you girls up to on a Friday night?”
“Not much.” I might as well not have even opened my mouth. He was all about Sarah.
“How about you?” David nudged her. “I’m meeting some friends at Industry tonight—want to come?”
I watched her, half-smiling. Did he really believe the woman known around the office as The Ice Princess was going to agree to go to some dance club with him last minute?
I watched his jaw work as he waited. I felt bad for him, knowing Sarah wouldn’t say yes, even though I knew she wanted to—some part of her did, anyway. She wouldn’t admit it to me, of course. Not out loud.
I’d told her, one slow Saturday we spent hanging out in the office, how I’d go for David in a heartbeat if I weren’t seeing Tim. I’d never seen Sarah turn so cold—and that was saying something. I knew immediately, in spite of her objections, she had a thing for him. She told me right away to drop it—she insisted she didn’t want to talk about it.
So, of course, I teased her about it constantly. That was the way things were between me and Sarah. And, really, I wasn’t kidding about David. Yeah, he was older, practically old, but he was hot. If Sarah dated him, I cajoled, I could at least live vicariously. She tolerated my teasing, rebuffed me with sarcasm. That was Sarah.
She sat in silence for a moment, glancing at me and seeing the light in my eyes. “Actually, Lizzie and I are having a girls’ night.”
“That so?” David looked over at me. I neither confirmed nor denied—I just smiled and looked away. “Well, sounds like fun. See you two later.” He went out of the office to get his jacket.
“He’s not a bad guy.” I shut the door and lowered my voice. “Besides…have you seen his basket?”
“His what?” She wrinkled her nose.
“His basket. His… you know…” I cupped the crotch of my jeans as if there were a bulge there.
“Oh Jesus, Lizzie, is that all you think about?” Sarah laughed. “There’s more to life than sex. He’s a thirty-five-year-old telemarketer, sweetie…”
I raised my eyebrows. “So are you.”
“I’m a telemarketing supervisor.” She fished her purse out from under the desk and slipped her shoes on. “Besides, he’s not my type.”
”You keep saying that.” I rolled my eyes. “Methinks the lady doth protest a lot.”
“Too much.” Sarah smirked. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”
“Exactly.”
“Hey.” She stood, slinging her purse over her shoulder and looking at me, considering. “How would you like to actually do a girls’ night? I can cook. We can rent a chick flick. You can borrow that nail polish. What do you say?”
I hesitated and then shrugged. “Why not? I don’t have anything else to do.”
“Gee, I’m glad I’m a last resort.”
We both grinned.
* * * *
It was pouring outside, and by the time we’d rented Unfaithful, it had developed into a full-fledged summer storm. We were both shivering and wet, and Sarah turned on the heater in her car. I pressed my hands against the vents in an attempt to warm them.
“Feels like summer is officially over.” Sarah’s teeth chattered as she pulled into the parking lot of her apartment complex.
“Sarah, your lips are blue.”
“Yours are purple.” Her eyes lingered on my mouth for a moment and then she met my eyes and smiled. “Ready to run for it?” It was raining so hard the windshield was a waterfall.
“On three.”
We counted together, opening the doors and running toward her apartment. Sarah stopped to slip off her heels, hopping as she did it, and that put her ahead of me. She beat me to the door and we both stood there shivering as she fumbled with her keys. The warmth of the apartment felt good, and I set the movie on the table near the door.
“Come on.” Sarah unbuttoned her wet blouse, heading toward bathroom. “Let’s get out of these and put them in the dryer.” I followed, hesitating only a moment before pulling off my wet Coldplay t-shirt. She threw her blouse in the dryer, turning to grab my shirt.
“Jeans too.” She turned her back to me. “Will you unzip me?” I unzipped her skirt and she slid it off and threw it in. I unbuttoned my jeans, rocking them down my hips. They were wet and came off hard. I toed off my shoes and threw my socks and jeans in with the rest of the clothes. She turned it on and smiled brightly at me. There were curly, wet strands of blonde hair stuck to her cheeks. “They’ll be toasty warm by the time we’re done with dinner. How’s pasta sound?”
“Great.” I followed her out of the bathroom.
Sarah started a fire in the living room in the gas fireplace near the sofa, and she made me sit there with a glass of wine. I wasn’t much of a drinker—hadn’t even gone out to celebrate my drinking-age birthday the year before. Sarah, I figured, was thirty-something—I wasn’t completely sure of this, but it was my best guesstimate.
“This will warm you up in no time.” She headed back to the kitchen.
I watched her go and realized I was sitting there in a bra and panties. It was very warm in her apartment, and Sarah didn’t seem uncomfortable with our state of undress as she puttered around the kitchen, preparing dinner. I could watch if I turned sideways on the couch and put my legs up, so I did.
“Can I help?”
She shook her damp, blonde curls. “Nope. I’m fine.”
“So…what’s the deal with you and David?” I couldn’t fathom her rejection of him. “You can’t deny he’s a total hottie.”
“He is, isn’t he?” She smiled, stirring the pasta. “Well, for one, he’s divorced. Hard to trust a guy who made a go of it and failed, you know?”
Ouch. Harsh. But that was Sarah—no one else we worked with could stand her. I was the only one who could tolerate her caustic remarks, even when they were directed at me.
“And, well…he works for me.” Sarah shrugged, putting something together in another pot. “And you know how Don harps about work relationships.”
“What about Chad and Lynn?” I snorted, knowing Don, our “big boss,” looked the other way a lot. “They’re permanently lip-locked and they work together.”
“Oh, them!” She waved a dismissing hand over the pasta pot as she blew on it, keeping it from bubbling over. “They’re on the same level, you know? It’s just not comparable.”
I sipped at my wine, which was almost gone and Sarah came to refill it.
“Hey!” I laughed. The fire was warming me outside, and the wine was warming me inside. I felt flushed. “You trying to get me drunk?”
“Might do you some good.” She tipped the bottle a little further, filling my glass almost to the top. I just rolled my eyes, watching her refill her own glass and set the wine on the counter.
“I don’t need to get drunk,” I mumbled into my glass.
“No?” Sarah licked wine off her lips and turned to stir the pasta. The sauce pot next to it had come to a slow-motion boil, splattering red sauce on the white glass surface of the stove. “I think you need something like it.”
“Sure you don’t need my help?” I offered as she slid a lid onto the sauce pot and shimmied it around for a moment before setting it on a back burner, reaching into the cupboard above her head to bring down a colander without even looking. I thought she was brave to cook in so little clothing.
“I got it,” she insisted, dipping a fork into the noodles and picking one carefully off the tines. “And don’t change the subject.”
“I’m not.” So what if I was? Sarah tossed a noodle at her kitchen wall and it stuck there, making a strange pattern that reminded me briefly of the Arby’s logo before slowly peeling away. She caught the strand and tossed it into the sink. “Was the wall hungry?”
She smiled as she picked up the pot and moved toward the sink. “That’s how my father taught me. The spaghetti’s done if you throw it against the wall and it sticks.”
“I’d hate to be around when you cook a pot roast.”
I loved when I could surprise a laugh out of her that way, when it wasn’t just a polite thing, but a genuine response. There was something so bright about her in those moments it made my chest ache. I watched as she plated our food, putting down silverware on cloth napkins, which had been carefully folded in a basket on the counter, before calling me to the table.
“Come on, let’s eat.”
The meal was warm and filling, although I didn’t pay much attention to it. Sarah peppered me with questions.
“So what’s after college?”
I sighed, twirling spaghetti with my fork like it was all I could think about. “I don’t know.”
“Have you and Tim talked about it?”
“Me and Tim…” I gulped some more wine, my eyes watering. Everyone always assumed we were an item, like we were one thing, one mind, one entity. Not that we weren’t. We’d been together so long, sometimes even I believed it. And sometimes it drove me crazy. “Yeah, I guess. A little.”
“First comes college, then comes marriage, then comes Lizzie pushing a—“ Sarah nudged me under the table with her bare knee and I jumped.
“Don’t say it!” I stuck out my tongue. “You sound like my mother.”
“Life reduced to a nursery rhyme…” She shook her head, still smiling.
I watched her sip her wine, tuck her hair behind her ear, cut her spaghetti into pieces as if she were preparing it for a child. I wanted to say something, to break things open between us somehow, but I didn’t know the words.
As if she understood, she tipped her head at me and asked, “Isn’t that the usual order of things?”
“Who says I want to be usual?” My eyes didn’t move from hers.
“Now we’re talking…” A smile crept over her face, a smile I’d never seen before, something devious, exciting, her eyes lighting up with it. “And here I thought you were just gonna be another good sorority girl turned real Orange County housewife....”
“Well…” I dropped my eyes to my plate, feeling something heavy in my chest. “I probably am…”
“Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
“Ha.” I snorted. “You don’t believe that for a minute.”
“Life changes you.” Sarah ate spaghetti with a spoon. I watched her taking delicate bites, amused. Here I was, slurping away at the noodles, and she was being as precise as a surgeon. “Sometimes you find the things that once did it for you just… don’t… anymore.”
I studied her face, contemplating her words. “I’m not too young to get it, Sarah.”
“No…” she agreed. “But sometimes you just can’t tell people things. Sometimes they just have to happen. Life will happen to you. Trust me, it will. No need to hurry it along.”
“What if I want to?”
“Everyone says that.” Sarah took another sip of wine, looking at me over the rim. “Until things start to happen.”
”What things?”
“Just life, sweetie.” She sighed, using her napkin and then putting it over her plate, half her food still left there. “You’ll get it…when you’re older.”
I rolled my eyes, mimicking her napkin-over-the-plate gesture. I’d lost my appetite. “Now you really sound like my mother.”
“What do you want me to say?” She stood, clearing our plates but leaving the wine glasses. “That I can give you a map?”
“I don’t want a map…” I stood, too, but didn’t follow her to the kitchen. Instead, I went the few steps into the living room, running my fingers over the edges of her furniture. “I just want to be…”
“Unusual?” she supplied, snagging both of our glasses like a professional waitress in one hand, the bottle of wine in the other.
“I don’t have the first clue how to be unusual.” I flopped down onto the couch in front of the fire.
“No?” Her voice was closer and softer now as she sat on the floor in front of me, her back resting against my crossed legs. “I think you know more than you let on.”
“I don’t.” Her hair was dry now, as was mine. It was silky against my bare legs, and I touched it. Her hair curled around my fingers and she sighed, leaning her head back, her eyes closed. I looked at her in the firelight. It cast shadows, making rippling patterns on her face, her arms, her breasts spilling slightly over her bra, turning her hair and skin a warm, tawny color.
“Sarah, you’re right. My life is as boring as they come. I was valedictorian of my high school class—I’m well on my way to graduating summa cum laude from college. Tim and I went to the junior prom together and have been dating ever since. I got into a good sorority—not, you know, the one with old money, but still… My mother always tells everyone, ‘She’s such a good girl.’ And you know what? She’s right. I am a good girl.”
“I bet you are.” She smiled, her eyes still closed.
“What do you mean?’
“Nothing.”
I saw a glint on her left hand in the fire light as she shifted. “Sarah, why do you wear a ring?”
“Why?” She opened her eyes to look up at me. They were clear, like blue glass. “Because…because I want men to think I’m taken.”
“But you’re not.”
She frowned, closing her eyes again. “That part of me is.”