Last and First

Sally “Micky” MacDonald is wrapping up work at the library. As the last person out the door, she sets the alarm. To her shock, an intruder enters the building right before she leaves the premises.

An exasperated Quinn Coleman cannot believe that her absent-minded partner has once again forgotten a significant first in their relationship. She sets out to prove her point oh-so-deliciously.

THE LIBRARIAN is a lesbian erotic role play fantasy romance written by Jacintha Topaz. Due to the sexy situations found in this book, the content is only suitable for readers 18 years of age and older.

Excerpt

​Quinn eyed the gods that be in the ceiling and stared right back down at her. “I knew it. I knew you’d forget. That’s exactly why I’m here. I knew that I’d need to punish you.”

“What?!” Sally widened her eyes in alarm. “Hey, no way! You charged in here like this. You should be the one punished for scaring the living batshit out of me.”

“Micky.”

This time, the pet name spoken in that husky yet commanding voice had the desired effect on Sally. She suddenly realized Quinn’s intent to play with her, to scene. Here. In her office!

Flabbergasted speechless, Sally watched as Quinn moved over to Sally’s desk with complete and unbridled entitlement. Quinn removed Sally’s sculpted bamboo backscratcher from its nail and pointedly rapped on the desk.

“Here, Micky,” Quinn said. “This is where I want your ass.”

Sally gaped at Quinn. “Here? You’re insane!”

Quinn smiled with such predatory intent that Sally back-crawled and bumped against the wall. Crouching to her level, Quinn grinned, “I think this is the perfect place to celebrate.”

“Huh?”

“You’re going to read me a bedtime story.”

“That can be done at home,” Sally grumbled. “No need to assail me at work and catch me off guard.”

“Oh, I think you’ll like this one.” Quinn retrieved a small postcard-size printout stapled into some form of flip book. “I can’t wait for story time.”

Quinn waggled her eyebrows. The absurdity of reading a children’s book, one of her usual daytime duties, was such a mismatch that Sally harrumphed and got off her bummed ass.

 “Wait, what secret?”

Quinn eyed the gods that be in the ceiling and stared right back down at her. “I knew it. I knew you’d forget. That’s exactly why I’m here. I knew that I’d need to punish you.”

“What?!” Sally widened her eyes in alarm. “Hey, no way! You charged in here like this. You should be the one punished for scaring the living batshit out of me.”

“Micky.”

This time, the pet name spoken in that husky yet commanding voice had the desired effect on Sally. She suddenly realized Quinn’s intent to play with her, to scene. Here. In her office!

Flabbergasted speechless, Sally watched as Quinn moved over to Sally’s desk with complete and unbridled entitlement. Quinn removed Sally’s sculpted bamboo backscratcher from its nail and pointedly rapped on the desk.

​“Here, Micky,” Quinn said. “This is where I want your ass.”

The above excerpt is from The Librarian (Occupational Hazard Book 1), when an absent-minded librarian is reminded of a special forget-me-not occasion by her visiting partner.

The Librarian kicks off a series of stories devoted to kinky women in the workplace in the Occupational Hazard series.

If you like stories about kinky women at work, you may also enjoy The Interview (DykeLove Quickies Book 1).

When the car doors opened, Kaylee stepped inside and pressed the key for the fifth floor. Right before the doors shut, an attractive woman (almost thirty?) in a Speedo top and sweatpants entered. She had a strip of spiky brown hair, kind of like a short mohawk, that was dyed blond at the tips. The rest of her hair, which was the same length as the spikes, hung naturally with that soft butch look.

Was she a dyke?

One look at those luscious lips had Kaylee down for the count, thinking of their sensuous pucker at her nether region. Just looking at the woman made Kaylee weak in the knees. But those eyes? Those dark blue eyes looked like midnight and made Kaylee think of sinful things that people only did in the cover of dark.

The woman gave her a wolfish grin with a glimpse of perfect pearly white teeth.

Kaylee blinked.

Oh, shit.

Kaylee had been blatantly gawking at the woman. Wolfish grin? Yeah, right. She wished. Kaylee stiffened and looked away, noting the floor indicator blink from four to five before the car doors opened.

Thank goodness that they had arrived to the fifth floor. The air was getting stuffy in there, and her light head needed to be screwed on tight.

Drat. She shouldn’t be thinking of screwing anything right now.

Then again, maybe she should take a trip to the restroom and get all this sexual energy out. Wouldn’t help anything if she went into that interview hot and horny as fuck.

Checking the time on her wristwatch, Kaylee noted that she still had ten minutes. A five-minute fuck in the restroom should be enough time. If she did that, then she would still have five minutes left before the interview.

Better do it now rather than later.

Before she could change her mind, Kaylee followed the signs to the public restroom and locked herself into a stall. After hanging her briefcase on the metal hook behind the stall door, she closed her eyes and called up the image of Sporty Spiky Soft Butch. ​

They had to have this little orientation done before check-out time. On the table was her willing accomplice—ten meters of quarter-inch, natural color hemp ready for winding and binding.

Anuhara’s eyes skittered over the rope on the table before she tentatively stepped forward.

“Relax,” Sherilynn soothed. “I want you limp as a rag. Don’t try to help me. Stay at ease and be patient. Do you have a mindfulness practice or go-to meditation you can use to stay focused on something else while I tie you up? Because it might take awhile.”

Anuhara paused and answered, “I have a breathing technique I learned awhile back.”

“Tell me about it,” Sherilynn prompted.

“It’s something I picked up from a fellow islander. She’s from Hawai’i. Not that I’m from there,” Anuhara added quickly. “Anyway, it’s about breathing in a circuit: inhaling for seven counts, holding the breath for seven counts, exhaling for seven counts, pausing for seven counts and then starting the whole cycle again for six more times.”

“Hmm. Interesting. Why seven?” Sherilynn mused, enjoying the ease with which Anuhara explicated.

Anuhara shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask. It was easy to remember, fun to try, and nice to see how it jived with me. Plus, it comes in real handy because it increases my blood circulation so much that I feel hot even before I complete seven of those cycles.”

“Good to know,” Sherilynn said, taking note of the circulation issue. She’d have to ensure that the rope had a bit of give to accommodate the swell of oxygen-rich blood flow in the body. Anuhara’s body probably ran hot. Smiling to herself, she remembered how warm it was to sleep beside her in bed last night. “Now strip. Slowly.”

The above excerpt is from The Invitation, which is the first book in the DykeLove Bound series, when a newbie gets her introduction to rope.

While subsequent books in this particular series are forthcoming, in the meantime you can enjoy The Intros (DykeLove Quickies prequel) as a complimentary read at most retail sites.

If you like stories about kinky lesbian females who are also into bondage, you may enjoy The Inquiry in the DykeLove Quickies series.

“You are a natural, Britta. A real natural.” After a pause, Reg continued quietly, “What do you think of domination?”

His lowered voice sent chills down Britta’s spine. She knew exactly what he was referring to, because she’d seen those ads in the free weekly papers. Big, busty women. Latex, PVC, catsuits, masks, thigh-high boots. She’d even taken the papers to her room, feigning that she wanted to know about the local independent news. Instead, she had flipped to the back of those papers to peruse the more scandalous ads. She’d close her eyes, invoke the fantasies to come alive, and masturbate to those mental pictures as a mere teenager—a horny one, at that. And no, she was not thinking of being told what to do by these women. She had imagined herself in their shoes, those thigh-high boots, driving her female victims crazy with lust. And she was getting off on their inconsolable craving for her dominance.

Britta grew heady just thinking about those teenage years. She’d never actualized those fantasies before. Had gone straight to college, stayed on the academic track, went on to get her masters in business administration. She’d only graduated about six months ago. She hadn’t ever made the time to look into the stuff, even if she did continue to revisit those fantasies during each session with her vibrator.

Besides, she was a dyke, who had crushed on many a straight girl in her sorority days. Had often fantasized about those girls in her dreams, how they’d take her strap-on and scream for more. Real dicks be damned. Who was this man to ask her about domination?

​“I don’t dig men,” Britta said flatly.

Erin gulped as LeeAnne released the hold on the bathrobe and let it fall to the floor. Naked in all her glory, Erin didn’t know what to fuck first—the tits, the clit, or the slit. Fuck, she didn’t even know which way was up.

Unclothed, the hard-as-steel woman did indeed sport muscles with black belt definition. Despite the trim build, she was also soft at just the right places that called to Erin’s protective instincts. And for the next hour or so, these curves were all hers to enjoy.

Setting the bottle of olive oil down on the mat, Erin pulled on the plastic wrap and bound the breasts. Then she fashioned a panty and slid in a few fingers for a quick appetizer. She gave it a swirl and grinned when LeeAnne’s breath caught. Good, the wrap was loose enough at the slit to allow for entry.

“Lay down on the mat, face up,” Erin said. As LeeAnne laid down, Erin placed the box of plastic wrap aside and picked up the bottle of oil. She drizzled some oil along LeeAnne’s navel before setting the bottle down beside LeeAnne. Then she lathered up her hands by spreading the oil around the belly.

“What are you doing?” LeeAnne asked in a strained voice.

“Cataloguing every inch of your body to find all your erogenous zones.”

​LeeAnne worked her throat. “That’s … cruel.”

It's that time of year again, one day among 365ish days a year, one day in which we get to imagine how someday may feel like when we are all living in a more tolerant and accepting world.

24/7.

Ah. May 17. The International Day Against Homophobia, Transphobia & Biphobia.

Along that same spirit is the first annual Hop for Visibility, Awareness and Equality, the current incarnation of the previous Hop Against Homophobia, Bi and Transphobia.

This year's hop, like its predecessor, is full of Authors, Reviewers, Publishers, and Cover Designers of LGBTQ fiction and is different in that cisgender (M/F) Allies also get to participate.

The best part of all this? All the lovin' you'll get, feel, vibe with as you go through everyone's posts on relevant topics. Plus, did I mention prizes​? ;-)

Last year, I (Jacintha Topaz, aka JT) introduced myself and how I splashed into the bisexual female erotic romance fiction genre in April 2014. I'd barely gotten my feet wet in 2014; had I known that the hop existed, I would have jumped right in that May 2014. However, May 2015 it is. You can check out that intro post for that year's hop over here.

This year, 2016, I feel like doing something a little different. I thought I'd get poetic. So if poetry isn't your thing, you might want to skip the insufferable verses and scroll right down to the mega prizes... (Fair warning, ahem. Um, maybe it'll be hot enough for the 18+ers. Er, if you're not 18 yet, come back when you hit the mark... I swear, this post will still be here for you to enjoy then, if you remember to come back then...)

Like the light mist of sex-sheened skin,
your taste drizzles over me.
Marks me. First hints of spring rain.

Teasingly at first, your musk
coats me, soaks me. So subtle,
yet achingly familiar.

As old as time. Savoring
the pounding flavors of more --
today, tomorrow, ever.

​This desert an oasis
meets. Your waters, an ocean.
Within. Without. With open

​Arms.

P.S. I could go on, but I'm stopping here before this poem gets too X-rated... LOL... And yes, it's a JT (Jacintha Topaz) original. Anyway, go on. Shoo. Scroll to the next section to take a glimpse of the prizes for this year's blog post comments. JT

Win one of the following audiobooks when you post your email address and comment on: How does Acceptance feel/look like to YOU?

Everyone who provides an email address and comments on this post (How does Acceptance feel/look like to YOU?) gets an ebook of my gay werewolf shifter paranormal erotic short story romance, Skid (Black Storm Pack prequel).

Both contests end on May 24th, 11:59 P.M. Hawaiian Tropics time. :-) No purchase necessary to win. Winners will be picked via a random drawing, if applicable (as in the case of the audiobooks), and will be contacted no later than May 31, 2016. Winners will be announced and contacted via email. So please ensure that your email address is correct when you post your comment. Thanks!

Psst! For folks who'd like exclusive content, giveaways, and specials reserved for subscribers only, sign up for my newsletter: http://eepurl.com/R9OfH

“Is your roommate dead?”

“I wish!” Meanie scoffed. “But that’s the polite answer.”

As Meanie stalked toward her, Taylor couldn’t help but step back slightly.

“If you’re so scared, Red, then tell me why you’re still here.”

Red?

Taylor swallowed. As Meanie advanced, Taylor’s back bumped into one of the bedposts.

“Why aren’t you running?” Meanie asked, a breath away that Taylor finally saw that the woman did indeed have more piercings—a barbell on the tongue!

Don’t look, she silently chanted to herself. Trying not to think of something made her think of it anyway—the first time she kissed someone.

“What was that thought?” Meanie asked.

Taylor gulped. “Nothing.”

“You don’t lie very well.” Meanie smiled. “Lighten up. Put your bag down. Take off your coat. It’s warm in here.”

Too warm.

Meanie beamed, then turned and left the room.

“Wh-Where are you going?” Taylor asked, oddly disappointed and relieved at the same time. The peculiar feeling was unsettling, made her almost lightheaded. Perhaps she needed to eat something, since the last thing she ate was a sandwich about six hours ago.

​“Lighten up, Camel,” Meanie called, “and find out at the couch.”

Check out other Masturbation Monday posts.

Rhiannon stilled, as if to let the admonition land. When she started on the roll again, Britt flanked the full dorsal curve of her foot against Rhiannon's crotch. An involuntary tightening around her foot told Britt that the little sub was turned on. The warm dampness she felt through her pantyhose also told her what she needed to know.

“Silky, isn't it?” Britt asked rhetorically.

Rhiannon lifted her head and glared at her. Mouth full of cinnamon roll, she was unable to answer the question anyway.

Britt smirked at the thornless glare, which she would have to address later. “Don't talk with your mouth full, pet. I'm just getting started.” Sure, Rhiannon mentioned she didn't like humiliation, whatever that meant. Who knew exactly what the boundaries were unless Britt pushed? The gray areas were way too vast and delicious to go untested. Besides, it wasn't like Britt was using the word pet in a derogatory manner. If anything, it dripped endearment when she said it.

Britt gave Rhiannon a nudging glide in the nether region, delivering a liberal teasing friction by foot. “I can tell these lips like what I'm doing. Coupled with the gush coming out of them and my silk pantyhose, doesn't this feel like a long slick tongue lapping up your juices?”

She watched the irritation in Rhiannon's eyes fade to a glaze of blazing lust, the cinnamon roll quite forgotten. So the pet liked dirty talk, eh? That she could deliver in the next however many minutes left, and set aside the polite reminders she had given of the time limit. No more niceties from the Mistress, even for a newbie. After all, including the last bit of cinnamon roll Rhiannon had eaten, she should have enough energy by now for the rest of the session forming in Britt's mind.

“I don't think you came here for pain, pet,” Britt continued. “I think you came here for pleasure.” 

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“Tease these for me,” Sherilynn said as she winked.

“You want me to play with my nipples for you?” Anuhara asked, a little breathless from flying apart only moments before. Her voice felt separate from her form. Sure, her body was here. Not so with her brain, which appeared to be floating in the cosmos somewhere.

“Sure, why not?” Sherilynn grinned mischievously as her expert fingers grazed past her arms, skimmed and pranced down past her belly and settled at the rope knotted right above her clit. She gripped it, released it and let it slap against her skin like someone playing with a bra strap. Anuhara gasped from the unexpected pleasure, which only deepened Sherilynn’s grin. “If you stop, I stop.”

“What?” Hands frozen in place at her chest, Anuhara stared blankly.

“Teasing,” Sherilynn reminded her. “If you stop teasing those nipples, I’ll stop teasing you.”

Coming must have fried her brain cells. She’d already fucking come. She didn’t need any more teasing, did she? She stole a glance quickly around the dining room. Ginny and Jackie had long left the premises. No doubt they’d exited to give them the courtesy of a private moment.

​Sherilynn’s eyes narrowed. “No, you don’t.”

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“Hmm. Sounds like you like entertaining book girlfriends,” Monica said, “but you don’t have one at the moment, do you?”

Monica’s heart hammered as the seconds ticked by.

Slowly Kaylee met her gaze, lips thinned. “That’s a rather personal question.”

“All of my questions have related to personal assistance in some way, shape or form,” Monica said.

“Yes, but I don’t see where all this is going, and I don’t think these questions are related to the job description I read online.”

“Nonsense.” Monica stood up from her chair and approached Kaylee. “I asked you about fun and you hardly had or have any. I needed to delve deeper and find out what you enjoy. Working with childhood cancer patients is very taxing on the nerves. You need to be able to flip the relaxation switch, at will.”

Kaylee’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“What position did you say I was interviewing for now?” she asked slowly.

Wrong answer.

“At this point, you don’t get to ask the questions.” Monica eased one buttock onto the desk, overlooking Kaylee in her chair. “You only get to answer them.”

Kaylee stiffened.

Good.

The girl was catching on.

​“So back to the question—are you in an intimate sexual relationship with anyone?”

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You can listen to the first 5 minutes here! 

“Mariah?”

Her eyes instantly flicked open in a haze at the husky masculine voice that had dominated her masturbating fantasies eons before. Disoriented, she found her wide-eyed stare steadying on the familiar chestnut eyes of a suited man she thought she had once escaped months ago. Could it really be him? How the heck did he find her?

Mistress V spun around, waves of electric fury rolling off of her. “You don't interrupt a scene.”

Orgasm on hold, Mariah could hardly breathe. In fact, she had stopped breathing. The man really was here, in the flesh. She wasn't delusional. If anything, he looked more chiseled than before, the suit as crisp as their prior meetings in the board room and beyond. His once over was as penetrating as it had been before.

With a slight nod, to Mariah's relief, he excused himself. Still, she felt too frozen to track his departure. All she could do was force herself to fill her lungs with air and release the stiffness that had taken over her body. As she started to breathe and relax again, she noticed Mistress V's penetrating regard of her.

“Interesting.” Mistress V's narrowed eyes drew up warning flags within Mariah. “You gripped me extra tight when he interrupted. Makes me want to push—”

Mistress V struck a deep place within her, and Mariah couldn't help but buck her hips forward and moan.
“—that hard limit of yours on public humiliation. You like it when you go all animal on me in public? Let the world know how sweet a cunt you have, what a whore you are, that you like being fucked like a slut?”

Oh, god, that was furthest from the truth. What the heck was Mistress V doing, still stroking her and talking dirty? Fucking her pussy as if it was some sort of lie detector? Breathless form Mistress V's relentless probes, Mariah shook her head.

“Hmm. Perhaps you like being watched by a third party? How about sex with a handsome stranger who chances upon two copulating females? Still not your cup of tea?” The dips and glides quickened in pace and pressure, and she couldn't resist squeezing those fingers. “Ah, there we go, a bit of that clench again, but not as strong as the one you gave me when caught in the act by that handsome man. Tell me, would you like me to invite him over to play with us?”

Her heart stopped at the absurd notion. She wasn't a doormat or a play thing! She fervently shook her head and cursed herself when she felt her pelvic walls tighten around Mistress V's fingers.

“Interesting,” Mistress V muttered, her eyes narrowing. “You shake your head but your pussy liked that idea. So do those beaded pebbles on your chest.”

Mariah's breath hitched. Oh, god. No!

“Not to mention the catch in your breath and those flushed cheeks …” Mistress V's lips curved with sinister intent. “However, some more alone time together would ensure that this pussy is mine.”

​A few quick jerks of those fingers coupled with several swivels of the thumb to her clit sent her flying. She came, screaming into the wool stocking as Mistress V continued stoking the fires of her orgasm.

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Mariah stepped through the door and saw a corridor of security monitors with live feed. The sound of her heels reverberated through the hall. Farther along, Britta stepped through another door and kept it open for her. Mariah quickened her pace and caught up to Britta, who closed the door promptly behind her. Her eyes widened when she scanned the room. The place would have looked like a lounge space, if it weren't for the four poster bed at the far corner.

Mariah had assumed that they would step into a more private conference area. This was way too private of a room for a discussion over to-do items, even if the current campaign had to do with further extending the reach of the company's new medical line. They could have stayed in Britta's office, couldn't they? A foreboding wave of nausea gathered in her belly. Just what did Britta have in mind?

“Let me see what's still on your list,” Britta said.

Mariah handed over her clipboard. Britta took one glance, then set it down on the kitchenette counter before opening a drawer and extracting a couple of items, including what looked like doctor's headbands with much shorter straps.

“I'd like to product test these,” Britta said, handing the mini-headbands over. “Wear them on your wrists so that the discs face out and are over your pulse.”

Mariah inspected the product, which was heavier than she expected. The straps were about two inches wide and felt and smelled like leather. Attached to each strap was a thick circular metal disc with a flat surface that accounted for the weight. She secured each strap to her wrists and looked up at Britta expectantly.
Britta walked her over to an armchair near the coffee table and padded the back of the chair. “Sit and rest your arms so that the discs face the ones built into the chair.”

At first glance the armchair looked like any other, except the wooden arms did have circular discs the same size as the ones she had on her wrists. Unlike the flat surface found on the discs strapped to her wrists, the built-in discs in the chair had a depression in the center and a black ring outside of it. Mariah sat down on the leather cushion and positioned her wrists in place.

“Keep them there,” Britta said. “For this exercise, I'll need to blindfold you as well. No objections?”

​Mariah swallowed, the feeling of dread rising in her stomach. Just what kind of product testing was this?

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​Readers/Listeners Say:
"I could not tear myself away from the book. It is fresh, unpredictable and interesting."
~ Reader
"The story and characters have an authenticity that makes this an enjoyable audiobook."
​~ Listener

Sample the first five minutes!
​Go to the Audible sample page.

When the car doors opened, Kaylee stepped inside and pressed the key for the fifth floor. Right before the doors shut, an attractive woman (almost thirty?) in a Speedo top and sweatpants entered. She had a strip of spiky brown hair, kind of like a short mohawk, that was dyed blond at the tips. The rest of her hair, which was the same length as the spikes, hung naturally with that soft butch look.

Was she a dyke?

​One look at those luscious lips had Kaylee down for the count, thinking of their sensuous pucker at her nether region. Just looking at the woman made Kaylee weak in the knees. But those eyes? Those dark blue eyes looked like midnight and made Kaylee think of sinful things that people only did in the cover of dark. 
​
The woman gave her a wolfish grin with a glimpse of perfect pearly white teeth.

Kaylee blinked.

Oh, shit.

​Check out other Masturbation Monday posts.

For a chance to win one of three audiobooks of
THE INTERROGATION: A Lesbian New Adult Spanking Romance
sign up for my newsletter to get the inside scoop to be announced on August 14th!
You get 5 extra points for being an existing subscriber before 9 A.M. PST 8/14/2015.

Entries accepted until August 31st. Prizes will be awarded first week of September.
No purchase necessary to win. Void where prohibited.
(if you missed up to 10 extra points for existing subscribers before the August 14th announcement, 
sign up for my newsletter anyway for future opportunities.)

THE INTERROGATION (DykeLove Quickies Book 2) [Audiobook]
Available at the following online retailers: 
(links to become active when updated)

Audible  |  Amazon  |  iTunes

For a chance to win one of three audiobooks of
THE INTERVIEW: A Lesbian Medical BDSM Erotic Romance
sign up for my newsletter to get the inside scoop to be announced on July 21st!
You get 5 extra points for being an existing subscriber before 9 A.M. PST 7/21/2015.

Entries accepted until July 31st. Prizes will be awarded first week of August.
No purchase necessary to win. Void where prohibited.
(if you missed up to 10 extra points for existing subscribers before the July 21st announcement, 
sign up for my newsletter anyway for future opportunities.)

As for the new release, here is the mini-blurb for
DykeLove Seconds
A Lesbian BDSM Erotic Romance Short Story Collection 

In THE INVESTIGATION, LeeAnne Song has revenge at her door -- hot cop Erin MacManus. (multicultural)
Mercedes Samford is refused service by psychotherapist Roxanne Evers in THE INSPECTION. (interracial)
In THE INQUISITION, July Greenfield agrees to answer personal questions before a rolling camera manned by filmmaker Thalia Akasidou.

Available at the following online retailers: 
(links to become active when updated)
All Romance eBooks  |  Amazon  |  Apple  |  Barnes and Noble  |  Google Play  |  Kobo  |  Nook UK  |  Smashwords

Kaylee tightened the grip on her briefcase as she approached the tall medical office building. She was here, fifteen minutes early. After taking a long deep breath, she entered through the double doors into a large lobby and instantly felt small.

Small town girl in a big city. Who the heck had she thought she was to leave that life and trade it for this one?

Oh, yeah, because she couldn’t have pursued what she wanted—in work AND in her personal life—as if she had any of either lately.

“May I help you?” asked a security guard behind the massive desk.

“I’m looking for Dr. Monica Halverson’s office?”

Drat. Quit sounding like a tourist.

But she was a tourist. Kind of. She didn’t belong here. Yet. But she’d make this city her home, her new sanctuary.

“Fifth floor,” the security guard said after checking the digitized screen before him. “Room 502.”

“Thank you.” Kaylee smiled stiffly at the guard and proceeded to the elevators. The thing about medical buildings in the city was that no matter how large, there always seemed to be only two cars that took forever to get there. At this rate, she would only be ten minutes early.

When the car doors opened, Kaylee stepped inside and pressed the key for the fifth floor. Right before the doors shut, an attractive woman (almost thirty?) in a Speedo top and sweatpants entered. She had a strip of spiky brown hair, kind of like a short mohawk, that was dyed blond at the tips. The rest of her hair, which was the same length as the spikes, hung naturally with that soft butch look.

Was she a dyke?

Available at the following online retailers:
Amazon  |  Apple  |  Barnes and Noble  |  Google Play  |  Kobo  |  All Romance eBooks  |  Smashwords