Swap — If You Can't Handle the Heat — Sin Bin

Saturday 14 September 2019

The deprivations of the flesh beget temptation - SIN BIN - Out Now! Only #99cents #erotic #bdsm

SIN BIN
OUT NOW!


When Daunté Bennifetto left home to attend seminary school, he never intended to return to the small town he’d grown up in. But it would seem God had other plans.

After Father Eton’s sudden death, Daunté finds himself in charge of his childhood parish and all of its parishioners, including Camillah Lima, the woman he can’t seem to forget. And true to form, the wild and spirited girl he remembers hasn’t changed a bit, headlining at a club as an exotic dancer.

When Daunté runs into Mrs. Lima—Camillah's disapproving mother—she begs him to intervene in her daughter's life, perhaps setting her back on the path to righteousness. Because of their sordid past, he knows he should stringently refuse, yet he can't seem to stay away. Night after night, Father Bennifetto finds himself worshiping at Cam’s feet, in a club appropriately named, The Sin Bin.


Author Note: For the first time, Sin Bin is available as a standalone short story. This erotic romance is also featured in Sacred and Profane: Priest Erotic Romance, a multi-author anthology, edited by Torrance Sené. Sin Bin, the standalone, has a tiny bit of added content and differs only slightly from the antho version.

*** .99¢ ***



+18 Teaser:

After a quick shower, Camillah gathered her belongings, when there was a knock at her dressing-room door.

“Yeah?” She glanced up to find co-worker and friend Tabitha standing there.

“I already know your answer, but some guy wants a private room with you.”

A zing of excitement shot through her. It had to be him. She tried to play it cool.

“You know I don’t do that.” Camillah eased her carryall onto her shoulder.

“Yep, but I thought you’d wanna know since it’s that hunk of deliciousness you’ve been teasing unmercifully for weeks.”

Oh, God! He’d finally asked for her.

“Well done, you finally pushed him over the edge.” Tab grinned.

“What’s he want?” Camillah inquired, trying to seem composed, though inside she was bouncing.

Tab’s eyebrows rose. “Holy fuck! Are you considering this?”

Camillah cocked her head. “Depends what he’s looking for.”

“He wasn’t real specific. He’s nervous as fuck, though he did want you in costume.”

“I already had a shower, and there’s no way I’m shoehorning myself back into that corset tonight.” She looked down at her shorts and T-shirt. “He can take me as I am or not at all. Makes no difference to me.”

“I’ll let him know.”

“That’s all right. I’ll go talk to him. He’ll figure it out when I walk in this way, he’ll also know who’s really in charge.” She set her bag down then followed Tab into the corridor.

“That’s my girl.” Tabitha squeezed her shoulder. “Keep things light. And remember, if you need help…scream.”

“That’s comforting,” Camillah mumbled.

“One last thing.” Tab stopped her.

“What’s that?”

“He doesn’t want you to look at him.”

Camillah paused, frowning. “I’ve already seen him.” Though, if the cops asked her to make a composite sketch of him, she’d be hard pressed on details.

Tab shrugged. “Takes all kinds, Cam.”

Her skin prickled with excitement along with a healthy dose of apprehension. Camillah opened the door of the “living room”. All the private rooms had a theme. This one was sparsely furnished with a couch, coffee table, and flat screen TV.

It didn’t matter that the man in black didn’t want her to look at him. He’d pulled the adjustable lamp with the large round shade down, and aimed it at the door, casting a shadow over the upper part of his body. Really all she could see were his legs. He sat in a casual pose, but the substantial bulge in the tight-fitting black denim was unmistakable. That alone thrilled her.

“What’s your name, honey?” she asked with more bravado than she felt.

Silence was his response.

“No names? That’s cool,” she said, as she closed the door. “So, what’s your pleasure, Cash?”

“Cash?” he questioned.

Ha! She’d made him speak.

“Yes, I’ve dubbed you the man in black. You know, like Johnny Cash,” she explained.

She sat opposite him on the only other furniture in the room, one of those old wooden circular chairs with the spindled back.

“So, you finally asked for me. What took you so long?” she goaded.

He didn’t answer.

“You could at least say something. I don’t come back here for just anybody. In fact, I don’t come back here at all. Ask anybody,” she challenged.

“I did.” He shot back.

She tried to hide her surprise.

“Then you know, I don’t give hand jobs or blowjobs, and I certainly don’t fuck.”

“But you do have a dirty mouth,” he drawled.

Her hackles went up. “Some guys dig a little dirty talk, and I didn’t come back here for your judgment either.”

“Then why did you agree to this?” He kept his voice low as if he might be trying to obscure it. Did she know him?

“Curiosity, I guess,” she replied.

“You know what they say about curiosity,” he warned.

Was that a smile she detected in his tone? She relaxed a little from the dirty mouth remark, though everything else about this little meeting had her on high alert.

“Yeah, it makes life interesting,” she retorted.

He chuckled. “I guess it does.”

“So, what can I do for you, Cash? Considering I don’t do much.”

Nervously, he cleared his throat. “Your number was different tonight,” he said, this time there was a sexy catch in his tone.

“You noticed,” she said, pleased.

He smoothed his hands over the black denim covering his legs, then he pulled at one knee. She hoped his current discomfort had everything to do with her.

“I want you to finish,” he said, gruffly.

She blinked. “Finish?”

“What you started out there. What you’ve been playing at for weeks. Teasing me.”

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