Fed Up

Fed Up

3.0 3
by Sierra Cartwright
     
 

INTERNATIONAL BEST SELLING AUTHOR

Elizabeth Driscoll is fed up with her barrister-husband's work schedule. She's sick and tired of Jon coming home late every night with no energy left over to satisfy her sexual appetite.

Once and for all, Beth takes control. That night, when he comes home from work, she's ready for him. Dressed in high-heeled

Overview

INTERNATIONAL BEST SELLING AUTHOR

Elizabeth Driscoll is fed up with her barrister-husband's work schedule. She's sick and tired of Jon coming home late every night with no energy left over to satisfy her sexual appetite.

Once and for all, Beth takes control. That night, when he comes home from work, she's ready for him. Dressed in high-heeled diva boots, a bra and stockings without panties, she grabs him by the tie, yanks him close to her and latches onto him in a way that gets his attention in a hurry.

When she orders him to his knees, respected and revered attorney Jonathan Driscoll is stunned speechless. He never knew his sweet, mousy wife had a dark and dangerous side. Having no choice, he complies with her demands. Jon learns, the hard way, that her oh-so-sexy boots are made for a whole lot more than just walking.

Publisher's Note This story has been previously released as part of the Naughty Nibbles anthology by Totally Bound Publishing.

Product Details

ISBN-13:
9781907010224
Publisher:
Totally Bound Publishing
Publication date:
04/20/2009
Sold by:
Barnes & Noble
Format:
NOOK Book
Pages:
37
Sales rank:
549,415
File size:
667 KB
Age Range:
18 Years

Related Subjects

Read an Excerpt

Elizabeth Driscoll was fed up. She’d had enough. She was mad as hell and wasn’t going to take it anymore… And whatever other ways she could come up with to describe her fury. All she knew was…she was pissed.

She so had not come all the way to England from the States a year ago to marry the man of her dreams and then sit home alone all day, bored out of her ever-living mind, lonely, and sexually unfulfilled.

No freaking way.

So, he was a hotshot barrister.

So, he had an enormous case load.

So, he was important.

So freaking what?

He’d chased her across an ocean and half a continent to woo her. Now he wanted her to be the little woman, keep his home nice and tidy, have his shirts ironed, his pants pressed, a nice, hot dinner waiting, along with a Crown Royal, neat, poured at the end of a long, hard day. Mr. Importance wanted his back rubbed a couple of evenings a week. Oh, and while he was working on a case in his study late at night, it was perfectly acceptable to refill that empty whisky glass.

If that’s what he wanted, he had married the wrong woman. 

And wasn’t that too bad for him, because she was wearing his ring. He was stuck with her. For better or worse. If he kept it up, it’d be worse for him, much, much worse.

Enough was enough.

She was tired of being ignored.

Her cellular phone rang. Her heart leapt into her throat as she checked the caller identification. Jon. Even after all this time, no matter how angry she was at him, she was still totally, stupidly mad for him. 

“Hey, baby,” he said. Even with the fuzziness of wireless service, his voice had the richness of a fine wine on a cold night. 

Her shoulders dropped, her pussy moistened in anticipation. She loved his voice, especially when he whispered naughty things about what he was going to do for her.

And he’d do them, as well…

At one time, soon after they’d exchanged vows, he’d hurry home. She’d never forget the days he’d drop his briefcase and sweep her into his arms. 

They wouldn’t make it out of the foyer before he kissed her deeply. With his mouth, with his hands, he’d take long minutes to let her know how glad he was she was in his home, in his life.

For the first few months of their marriage, she’d lost weight because they’d rarely made it into the kitchen for food. Instead, he’d carry her straight up to their bedroom, never minding the steep narrowness of the stairs.

“I hate to tell you this…”

She waited. She wasn’t going to make it easy on him. 

“I’ll be late.”

Surprise!

“Beth?”

She sighed. “I’m here.”

“Look—” 

She could picture him running his hand through his hair in frustration. Jon was dark blond, and every hair was perfectly tamed, cut and shaped into harsh submission.  He insisted on presenting a good picture to his clients and the Court. Funny how there always seemed to be time in the schedule to see the hairdresser, but not his wife. “What time?”

“Nine?”

Was he asking permission? “Not a minute later.”

“Miss you.”

She had no doubt he was telling the truth. He just didn’t miss her enough to come home.

“Maybe we can get away to the country this weekend?” he asked.

Meet the Author

Born in Northern England and raised in the Wild West, Sierra Cartwright pens book that are as untamed as the Rockies she calls home.She's an award-winning, multi-published writer who wrote her first book at age nine and hasn't stopped since.Sierra invites you to share the complex journey of love and desire, of surrender and commitment. Her own journey has taught her that trusting takes guts and courage, and her work is a celebration for everyone who is willing to take that risk.

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