Play with Me. Leslie Kelly

      

      About the Author

      LESLIE KELLY has written more than two dozen books and novellas for Blaze^® and Temptation. Known for her sparkling dialogue, fun characters and depth of emotion, her books have been honoured with numerous awards, including a National Readers’ Choice Award, and three nominations for the RWA RITA^® Award.

      Leslie resides in Maryland with her own romantic hero, Bruce, and their three daughters. Visit her online at www.lesliekelly.com.

      To loyal romance readers everywhere.

      In this economy, I know it’s got to be really tough to indulge your reading habits. I sincerely appreciate each and every one of you who keeps buying books so that I can keep writing them.

      Thank you so much.

      Dear Reader,

      After my title One Wild Wedding Night was released in 2008, I heard from a lot of readers. Most of them especially enjoyed Tony and Gloria’s story—the last one in the collection—about a married couple trying to recapture the sizzle by playing a little game of strangers-in-a-bar.

      The idea of playing sexy games is definitely an exciting one. Years ago, I was one of those readers who snapped up 101 Nights of Grrreat Sex, the book where you tore open an envelope that suggested an entire sensual scenario for you and your partner (the things we do for research). And the concept of keeping things fresh by enacting role-playing fantasies never left my mind.

      So when I got the chance to contribute to the popular Forbidden Fantasies series in the Blaze imprint, I wanted to do the theme justice. Having a secret affair and indulging in lots of sexy, role-playing games sounded both forbidden … and extremely sexy. Blazingly so, in fact.

      I love hearing from readers. If you would like to let me know what you think of Play with Me, please drop me a line through my Web site, www.lesliekelly.com, or visit me on my blog, www.plotmonkeys.com.

      Thanks and happy reading!

       Leslie Kelly

       Play With Me

      Leslie Kelly

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

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      Table of Contents

       Cover

       About the Author

       Title Page

       Prologue

       Chapter One

       Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Copyright

      Prologue

       Columbus Day

      “DO YOU KNOW WHAT your problem is?”

      Reese Campbell didn’t even look up as the door to his office burst open and the familiar voice of his extremely nosy, bossy great-aunt intruded on what had been a relatively quiet October morning. Because that was one hell of a loaded question.

      Hmm. Problem? What problem? Did he have a problem?

      Being thrust into a job he hadn’t been ready for, hadn’t planned on, hadn’t even wanted? That was kind of a problem.

      Being thrust into that job because his father had died unexpectedly, at the age of fifty-five? Aside from being an utter tragedy, that was absolutely a problem.

      Battling competitors who’d figured him to be a pushover when he’d stepped in to run a large brewery while only in his mid-twenties? Problem.

      Dealing with longtime employees who didn’t like the changes he was implementing in the family business? Problem.

      Ending a relationship because the woman didn’t appreciate that he—a good-time guy—now had so many responsibilities? Problem.

      Walking a tightrope with family members who went from begging him to keep everything the way it was, to resenting his every effort to fill his father’s shoes? Big effing problem.

      “Did you hear me?”

      He finally gave his full attention to his great-aunt Jean, who had never seen a closed door she hadn’t wanted to fling wide open. He had to smile as he beheld her red hat and flashy sequined jacket. Going into old age gracefully had never entered his aunt’s mind. Keeping her opinions to herself hadn’t, either.

      “I heard,” he replied.

      “Well, do you know?”

      What he didn’t know was why she was asking. Because she didn’t want an answer. Rhetorical questions like that one were always the opening volley in the elderly woman’s none-of-your-damn-business assaults on everyone else’s private life.

      He leaned back in his chair. “Whatever it is, I am quite sure you’re about to tell me.”

      “Cheeky,” she said, closing the door. “You’re bored.”

      No kidding.

      “You’re