For three years, I've been writing under the pen name Angelica Chase. Due to the extremely erotic content, I thought it best to keep my pen names separate. Recently, my books have evolved into a mixture of both. One of the true joys of being a writer is the ability to choose the books we wan't to create without categorizing our works until the time comes to publish. Our free-flowing pens allows us to dive into and create the worlds of our choosing. This was the case with my pen name Angelica. I absolutely loved writing every minute of these books. I'm excited about the worlds I've created as Angelica but cannot wait to re-present them to you as Kate. I will be republishing all my works in the next few months, starting with Sexual Awakenings. We have re-covered and reworked the material to bring you the best stories possible.
These are highly erotic and suspenseful love stories with twists and turns you won't see coming.
I will continue to write contemporary in all forms but will now be including a genre that is near and dear to my heart.
I sincerely hope this news excites you as much as it does me, and I can't wait to see what you think of my Rhys and Violet.
Hours later, after watching Jimmy Fallon, my curiosity brought me back to the web. Fuck it; I’d been the well-behaved, jilted wife long enough. I wanted to know what was out there, especially those like me who shared the same curiosities. I would love to know if any other women in Savannah had a fascination with kink. After a few hours of searching, I stumbled upon a site advertising a local, adults only page. There was a large triple X on the screen and a flashing advertisement of what looked like a bar in or around Savannah, but my excitement was stifled when I realized there was no address. After a quick Google search for the bar, named The Rabbit Hole, I came up empty, and gave up. Yawning, I threw my tablet beside my pillow and laid my head down to watch Nightline when I heard a ping.
I looked at my tablet to see an incoming message asking for the password. After careful thought, I had nothing. I typed my plea.
Not helpful at all. Shit. The possibilities were endless. I studied the XXX on the screen and saw an Alice in Wonderland cartoon encased in them. Inside the rabbit hole, in the middle X, was Alice kissing another Alice on the cheek as she held her pointer finger to her lips.
Making the best guess I could, I keyed it in.
Don’t kiss and tell.
I was immediately redirected to the homepage, asked to create a username—Blue_Alice—and started navigating my way around.
It was a chat room, and from the subject matter floating in boxes around the screen, it was definitely a no holds barred kink fest. Perfect! At least the curious vixen inside me wouldn’t have to show her face for now. I sat for hours in the various chat rooms reading the conversations. Most of them consisted of people hooking up and then agreeing to email in private. Great, hours on the site and I had only gotten a little hot reading what appeared to be an open and unashamed twosome having really kinky message sex. I could read a book and get hotter than this. I was just about to grab my trusty silver bullet and a new erotica book when I received an incoming message.
MadHatter: What are you doing here?
I froze, feeling completely busted. I shook my embarrassment off quickly. I had knocked on the damn door. Why not have a little fun?
MadHatter: For what?
Blue_Alice: Anything but what I’m doing.
There, honesty. Honesty was good.
MadHatter: Why so blue, Alice? Bored housewife?
Blue_Alice: Fuck you.
MadHatter: So, I’m assuming I’m correct?
Blue_Alice: Maybe. What the hell does it matter?
MadHatter: We don’t do married here.
Blue_Alice: I am getting a divorce.
MadHatter: That’s not a new one.
Blue_Alice: Keep your boring ass chat room.
MadHatter: Temper, temper.
Blue_Alice: I could do a better job turning people on than this bullshit.
MadHatter: Wow, you really need a thick cock in that sassy mouth.
Blue_Alice: And I suppose you’re the one who will be giving it to me?
MadHatter: Why not me?
I felt my cheeks grow hot and took a deep breath. Okay, now we are talking here.
Blue_Alice: Fine…talk to me.
MadHatter: Why are you here?
Blue_Alice: You already asked me that.
MadHatter: And you didn’t give me a good enough answer.
I thought about it. Going into this with honesty would be the only way I would truly get what I wanted. But is this what I wanted? What if he was some nasty, fat perv with bad skin and greasy hair? Then again, he may have thought I was some nasty troll with a huge gut and overgrown forest in my pants. I shook my head, indignant at my own stereotyping. Not cool, Vi. This whole scenario meant taking a chance. I had been teetering on the edge of this for years, if I was honest with myself. I wanted to be fucked ruthlessly, worshipped and tortured, brought to levels of sexual awareness I’d only dreamed about. I was sure—no, positive—I had an undiscovered fetish or two. Honest, I’ll be honest.
Blue_Alice: I want to explore a part of me I’ve kept hidden.
Blue_Alice: Because I don’t have anything to lose.
MadHatter: That’s dangerous.
Blue_Alice: That in itself is why I am interested. I want to be fucked in ways I’ve only imagined, and I’m tired of only feeling half full. I have cravings and I’m ready.
A few minutes later, I was sure the conversation had ended, then a ping.
MadHatter: I’ll be in touch.
Okay that seemed a little desperate.
Blue_Alice: Who are you?
MadHatter: I’m the guy with the thick cock you’ll be wondering about tonight while you play with your toys.
MadHatter: I can be.
And he was gone, if it had even been a he. For all I knew, it could have been a she. This too fascinated me. I thought of women and my sexual boundaries when it came to them and decided one leap at a time. Although women appealed to me from the waist up, I had no desire to explore the waist down. Then again, I’d really never had the opportunity.
The next day, I brought my iPad on every single errand with the chat room queued up. He could see me. He knew I was waiting. I looked desperate, but I needed this! I felt it in every part of me. I needed to be sexually free. I’d slept with six men in my thirty-two years. Two one-night stands, one when I was in college and the other right before I met my husband, Alex. The rest were boyfriends and not one of them was a freak, well not in the sense that I wanted them to be. A few got me off with their mouth, but it wasn’t earth shattering. It was more or less a struggle and an enormous amount of effort with constant murmurs of “Are you close?” during what seemed to be rigorous work. So, I rarely got off.
I had, as the mysterious messenger predicted, taken my toy to bed last night, imagining the man behind our brief chat. I was hot in a way I hadn’t been in months at the possibilities alone. This had to be explored. I felt like I was a sexual creature on the verge of finally introducing myself. Once I was home, I unpacked my groceries, praying for the fucking iPad to ping. Just ping! When I got nothing, I decided to forgo cooking and treated myself to dinner at Tubby’s, a nearby seafood restaurant on River Street. I sat on the balcony watching the boats glide down the river while the sun set. Couples passed by below me on the busy street holding hands and smiling while I dined alone. Minutes later I got my usual message from Alex letting me know he wouldn’t be home tonight and I rolled my eyes. Why did he even bother at this point? God, how I hated him.
Later at home, I thought about looking up some listings to show. I had a real estate license I rarely used and knew it was getting close to time to put it back to use. I was good at it, and I enjoyed it, but when my marriage fell apart I dropped it completely. I had stayed at home for a month solid after hearing Alex’s first conversation with one of his mistresses. I didn’t need to see anything. The prick had no issue talking openly with her behind his office door. If you are going to cheat, at least have the smarts and decency to hide it. The devastating thought that he didn’t care enough to hide is what really drove the knife into my heart. A few months after I had questioned him about his distance, I realized he had no intention of revealing his indiscretions to me. He was simply that fucking stupid. I heard every word he uttered to those women. It was eerily close to the way he used to speak to me. It hurt me horribly at first, now it just made my stomach turn. Why the fuck was I still here? What more reason did I need? He cheated; our marriage was over. I hated him. Why didn’t I just ask for a divorce?
A wave of adrenaline shot through me as I looked at the screen. It was an address. It was obvious why. It was an invitation, and one that came too soon for my comfort.
Well that would be a hell no. I wanted to at least have a conversation longer than a few short sentences before I agreed to a rendezvous.
No response came. I already knew the address would be my only message tonight. It was a challenge. He wanted to see what I was made of. If I was willing to step out of my comfort zone. All the reasonable reactions raced through me.
What kind of person barely introduces himself then gives an address to a total stranger?
Then again, what kind of person tells a complete stranger they want to be fucked six ways from Sunday?
I stared at the address for what seemed like an eternity. Okay, I could drive by. What was the harm? I would just look around, scope the place out. I could do this. Throwing my blanket off my legs and retiring my yoga pants, I took a scalding hot shower. I Googled the address with a towel wrapped around me, fear creeping into my thoughts. My search, of course, showed only results with possible directions. It had to be a home address. He gave me directions to his home? I shook off the towel, covered myself with scented lotion, and took in my body. I had long legs and curvy hips, a little extra weight made them even more pronounced. My breasts were pushing a C-cup, and though they weren’t perfectly proportionate to my hips and ass, I was fine with them. I pulled out a thin black sheath dress that collared at the top, hugging my neck snugly, slipped on my spiked red heels and put on my best face. Thick eyelashes and perfectly lips later, I ran my hands through my dirty blonde hair that I’d ironed straight. I was ready.
After two small glasses of wine and a mini-breakdown later, I corked my bottle and made my way to my car. You can do this, Vi. You can also back out at any time.
My cell had no issues navigating the address. My GPS estimated my trip to thirty minutes, and in thirty minutes I could be in the midst of possibly the best or worst situation of my life. Then again, I couldn’t imagine anything worse than the one I was already in.
I had enough heart left to give. I just didn’t give a damn enough to use it. This wasn’t about my heart; this was about a thirst I’d fought long enough. This would be good. This could be my something to look forward to.
Come on, Violet, divorce is not death and you’ve got a lot of living to do.
My something to look forward to ended up being The Rabbit Hole. The bar did exist, though the sign said private club. A wave of relief swept through me as I realized this was the perfect place to start. This club wasn’t the private home of Mr. Thick Cock where I would be expected to do anything. The bar, though near the corner of nowhere and doesn’t exist, looked to be newly built. The building was solid white and the entrance made up of two large oak doors. It seemed to be busy considering the number of cars in the parking lot. I stood in front of the doors, gathering my last bit of courage, and noticed they had been carved to showcase the characters of Alice in Wonderland.
So, I had a plan. I’d decided during my drive to give myself a year of no holds barred sexual exploration. No self-deprecating inner thoughts, no inner turmoil over the deeds after they took place, just raw indulgence. I would be safe, but I would seek out every avenue to find what pleasured me. I wanted it all. I wanted to fuck a professional escort, role-play, try my hand at BDSM, and maybe a ménage à trois. There would be no limits, only my preferences as I discovered them. I felt a tingle in my spine at the idea that tonight I might actually get to experience some small part of it. Down the rabbit hole it was. I exhaled, tightening my grip on my clutch. Here goes nothing.
I opened the door to be met by a huge man—more like a mountain—that reminded me of a lumberjack without the beard.
“Don’t kiss and tell.”
He looked at a list on a clipboard then nodded his head in confirmation. I thought it odd. I hadn’t given anyone my name. He grabbed my purse and I stood back in shock as he went through the contents without apology. He handed it back to me, grunting as he took a step back, making way for me to enter. I was stunned at the absolute beauty of the club. There were oversized leather lounge chairs everywhere in black, white, and checkered patterns. Hundreds of intricate lights hung from the ceiling in different shapes and colors. There were glass dividers giving privacy in certain areas as well as hundreds of lit candles that had the entire bar smelling sweet and clean. Despite the amount of lights, the atmosphere was romantic. I’d expected ridiculous amounts of story time paraphernalia throughout; instead it was all done so tastefully. Unless you were looking for the fairytale details, you wouldn’t really notice them. It was definitely a playground for grownups. A beautiful woman with ridiculously bright red hair greeted me as I took a seat at the bar then asked me for my order. I caught a few stares aimed in my direction and squared my shoulders.
“Martini, very, very dirty.”
She winked at me as I studied the bar behind her. Mirrors lined the entire wall, and I could see myself clearly. I was shocked at my own appearance. I looked...confident. Taking a sip of my freshly delivered drink in an insanely large martini glass, I cautiously looked around. There were a few people scattered around the bar, but the ratio of people present to the number of cars didn’t quite add up. At the end of the bar to my left sat a couple that seemed more than comfortable showing vast amounts of affection openly. I watched them for only a moment before the woman, whose naked breast was being inhaled by the man in front of her, winked at me. I winked back, feeling a small twitch of heat make its way below. A live show would be a first. Exhibitionists intrigued me. Maybe I would add this one to my list. He lifted her skirt, exposing her panties, and I almost gasped with her when he moved them to the side, sliding his fingers in. I felt heat flush through my body as I watched her head tilt back and a moan escape her lips. His fingers moved inside of her and I began to feel my sex clench with need. God, I wanted to be her right now.
“Having a good time?”
I nearly jumped off my stool when his breath hit my neck but maintained my seated position, refusing to look at the source of the voice. It was low and sexy, but I was so in tune with the couple, I couldn’t tear my eyes way. Her panties were off now and she was on her knees, his cock in her mouth. I gripped the side of the bar, trying to keep my voice level.
“It could be better,” I replied to the man seated to my right. A million silent prayers went up in that moment as I tore my eyes away from the couple, hoping at least one would be answered, and turned to the man talking to me. I parted my lips slightly as I took him in. Gray eyes, strong jaw, full lips, a strong brow. Fucking hot!
“Mad Hatter, I presume?” I hoped I sounded coy, but the level of heat coursing through my veins led me to believe otherwise.
This could very well be the best answer to any prayer I’d ever gotten. He had broad shoulders and was dressed professionally in a three-piece suit. His tie had been loosened, and his wavy, jet-black hair was slightly disheveled. This man wasn’t just good looking, he was a slap in the face to good looking. I took my gaze away to study my martini, trying not to give too much away. I felt his intense gaze as it covered every inch of me, and it unnerved me and heated me at the same time. I wouldn’t worry if I was pretty enough for him, if I was the right body type, had the right color hair. Now was not the time for insecurity. Now was the time for me to be comfortable in my own skin and flaunt it as much as possible.
I boldly turned to him again, taking my turn to peruse him from his wing tipped shoes to his perfectly fitted suit pants. I lingered on the promising bulge resting between his thighs and then trailed up further to his chest, appreciating the crimson color of his tie before stopping at his face. He smirked and I found it incredibly sexy the way his lips twisted, his eyes never straying from mine.
“Vi, short for Violet, and I told you I’m getting a divorce.”
“Rhys,” he said, grabbing my hand and turning it over to kiss my wrist. I gulped down the moan that threatened as he lowered my hand back to my lap, caressing the top of my hand as he left it. Smooth. “Can I offer you another martini?” His voice was deep and unnerved me further. I jumped at the chance to numb myself a little.
“Grey Goose, dirty.”
“Very, very dirty,” the bartender said, grabbing my empty glass and winking at me.
I heard a gasp to my left and saw the man had fully immersed himself into the woman who was no longer able to wink, or even breathe for that matter. Her eyes were shut and her mouth parted as she wrapped her legs around him as he pounded into her. My body flushed, my breathing changed, and I didn’t have a chance in hell of hiding it. He gripped her throat roughly as she came and he picked up his pace as she screamed out. By this time, my limbs were weak with want. I felt my entire body come to attention and turned to look at Rhys who was watching my reaction intently.
“Beautiful,” he whispered as the bartender set my drink in front of me.
I was consumed by the scene that had just unfolded and intoxicated by the man whispering to me. I turned my attention back to him quickly. He didn’t seem interested in the couple at all.
“I’ve never seen anything like that,” I noted. “That didn’t turn you on?” I questioned, no longer able to keep my voice steady.
“I’m concentrating on you at the moment. Tell me, Violet, what do you want to happen tonight?”
“I want to be fucked exactly like that,” I said without hesitation. He chuckled as he finally looked over at the couple, watching them closely. I followed his gaze to see the man pumping the last of his orgasm inside her, holding her tightly to him.
“This is the extent of your imagination? This is you exploring your darkest desires?” His brows pressed together, as if he was confused with my admission.
“Not exactly, but I’ve never done anything publicly, either,” I admitted, sipping more of the martini than I should have. I was nervous, and it was obvious. So be it.
“So,” he said, sliding his finger around the rim of his tumbler, “let’s talk about that.”
I took another sip of my martini. He caught a small drip of vodka off my lower lip with his thumb and brought it to my mouth. I immediately responded, sucking the tart liquid off. FUCK ME. He smiled in response, and as soon as I was able, I kept talking.
“The thing is...I’m not exactly sure what I’m looking for. I just know. I want...something. I’ve been reading a lot and studying the different types of scenarios, fetishes, and I think—”
His laughter brought heat to my cheeks, which prompted a bite from my tongue. “This isn’t fucking easy for me, you know,” I huffed, embarrassed.
“Sorry, it’s just you really are so green.” He slid a hand down my arm, causing my entire body to lean into his touch.
I recovered slightly. “What’s wrong with that? Being green...Isn’t that what you people love? Aren’t I what you look for?” I gripped my glass stem, twirling the drink slowly around and he stilled my hand, commanding my attention.
“Yeah, you know…” I widened my eyes as the couple who had just been power fucking now walked past us, fully clothed with sated smiles.
“No, I don’t know,” he said, amused.
“If you are going to make me feel inferior and childish for being here, I’ll just cut my losses right now.” I grabbed my clutch and opened it, searching it for my card to pay for the drinks.
He stilled my hand again. “I apologize. It was brave of you to come here. I won’t make jokes at your expense again. Tell me what you want, Violet.” My name rolled of his tongue so smoothly; my body gravitated toward him a little more. We were a whisper away from a kiss.
I took a deep breath and got lost in the blue hue surrounding his gray depths. He seemed to be searching for something when he looked at me. His lips looked soft. I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. He seemed only faintly surprised and retuned my soft kiss, reaching up to cradle my face with his hand. God, I loved that simple gesture. But a kiss wasn’t exactly what I was there for. I pulled away from him as electricity lingered and quickly explained.
“What do I want? I want to do things like that, indulge on my sexual whims. I want to experience everything I feel I’ve been missing. I want to try it all and tonight I think I want you.” Honest, bold and barely able to keep my shaking hands from showing, I kept his intense gaze. “But mostly I want to find out what I want.”
He seemed slightly stunned and even more amused. I’d made a fool of myself. I quickly grabbed my bag and stood. “I can see I’m wasting your time.”
“Come with me.” It wasn’t a request. It was an order. My core clenched and I felt the dampness from my now soaked panties as I followed him down a long hall behind the bar. I watched his confident walk, he was much taller than my 5’9” and I loved it. I felt the anticipation building, overjoyed at the thoughts racing through me. He led me into an office, shut the door behind us, and walked to sit behind a desk, gesturing for me to do the same.
“What is this?” I asked, looking around the spacious room.
“My office,” he answered without further explanation. Ah, so he owned the bar. Nice, this wasn’t an inexperienced man. This excited me.
He sat behind his desk, watching me carefully. My sex clenched again at the weight of his stare. What the hell was going on here? We sat in silence as he watched me sit, legs crossed and muscles clenching nervously as I fidgeted with my bag.
“I’ll make you an offer,” he said, placing his hands on his desk. “I’ll help you explore your boundaries and figure out just what it is you want, and in return, you follow a few simple rules.”
I shifted in my seat, my growing need outweighing my ability to reason, even though his offer didn’t seem unreasonable. The sweat between my legs mixing with the unhappy ache was enough to make me agree to anything. Still, I had to ask, “And the rules are?”
“Everything you have at home, throw it out. No books, no toys, no other partners. I become everything you need sexually. No exceptions.”
“That’s a lot to ask of someone you’ve only just met, not to mention it throws a wrench in my plans,” I said nonchalantly.
“Delve into all areas BDSM, fuck a professional, maybe a ménage. I kind of want to try it all.” To this I got another smirk, but had no shame in my admission.
“And you can do all of those things with me. But you won’t know the when or the who, and you’ll find out quickly you’ll be fucking a professional.”
Stay tuned . . .