T'was the night before Christmas....
With a sudden hankering to be spanked, Darcy Henderson figures Mitch Callaghan is the man for the job.
But is she woman enough to take it?
|Product dimensions:||5.00(w) x 8.00(h) x 0.22(d)|
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Mitch Callaghan knew a fine piece of ass when he saw it and Darcy Henderson's was about as fine as it got. It was a pity she covered it up so frickin' much.
"Here you go, Mrs T," Darcy said, as she pulled out of the ass-up bend she'd performed right in front of him and handed the elderly woman the magazine she'd dropped.
"Oh thank you, my dear." Mrs T placed it in the basket of her wheelie walker. Bright red tinsel wound around the handlebars reminded him it was less than a week before the jolly fat man visited. "I'm so clumsy." She winked at him as she wheeled past and Mitch smiled. The meddling old biddy had dropped it deliberately so Mitch could cop a perve.
He didn't know whether to high five her or be insulted. He wasn't so hard up that he needed seventy-eight-year-old women playing wingman, although, God knew, there were a slew of them around here.
Mrs T stopped and looked over her shoulder at them. "You're so good to us, Darcy. So sweet. Isn't she sweet, Mitch?"
Mitch laughed again as he checked out the short, curvy blonde in question. Her face was free of make-up and her long hair was pulled back in its usual low ponytail. Normally, a scrunchie that should have been abandoned in the 80s, held it in place but, today, some kind of Rudolph inspired tie did the job. He was pretty sure the stain on her sleeve was either mashed potato or baby sick and any discernible body shape was hidden in a sloppy old t-shirt she could easily fit another person inside.
For which he would happily volunteer.
Because he knew what was under all that baggy. He'd seen her, a little too often for his sanity, in her black one-piece around the pool and she was all dangerous curves. He'd also felt the dip of her waist and the roundness of her butt and the press of her very nice breasts as she'd drunkenly kissed him not once, not twice, but three times now.
Sweet? Sweet as.
"Oh phfft, don't answer that," Darcy muttered with a quick dismissive wave of her hand, pushing back some hair that had fallen loose from her ponytail as she eyed the older woman. "Do you need a hand with that polishing now?"
"Oh no dear." Mrs T turned away from them as she got underway again. "I'm sure Mitch has something you could polish though."
Mitch blinked. In his peripheral vision he could see Darcy's mouth drop open as Mrs T chortled to herself and threw, "Tootle pip, my lovelies," over her shoulder.
"I'm so sorry." Darcy glanced at him. "She's incorrigible."
He laughed again. That was one word for it. "Who'd have thought such a cute little old lady could have such a dirty mouth?"
"You should hear her parrot," she said as they watched her shuffle around to number twelve.
Mitch had thought scoring low-rent digs in a senior citizens' apartment complex on the glittery Gold Coast in exchange for handyman duties was going to be quiet and uneventful. Essential for someone who worked a bar from eight till four, six nights a week.
But he'd been wrong.
The complex, straight out of the Melrose Place School of Architecture, was a hotbed of gossip thanks to a bunch of matchmaking, horny, widowed senior citizens with one-track minds. Old Mr Miller took care of the day-to-day maintenance of the pool, around which all the apartments were set, and Mitch was fairly certain he switched out the chlorine tablets for dodgy Viagra pills he bought by the boxful from the Internet.
If only his granddaughters knew he wasn't using that laptop they'd bought him to research his family tree.
"You babysitting tonight?" Mitch asked as Mrs T reached her door.
"Nope. Char and the twins have gone away for two weeks. They're spending Christmas with Mickey's family in Sydney."
"Wow. You won't know yourself." Neither would he. The walls were kind of thin around here and not being woken by two noisy-four year-olds demanding Darcy's attention after only a few hours shut-eye would be bliss. "I hope you're planning on hitting the clubs or something?"
That's what any normal twenty-four-year-old single chick did on the glitter strip every Friday night. Except for Darcy who, after minding strangers' kids all week at the local childcare centre and fussing over old kids, including her grandmother, at the apartment block, looked after her widowed sister's kids on the weekend while Char worked the midnight shift at the local Caltex.
"Actually, I'm going out with the girls from work tonight."
He raised both his eyebrows. "Really?"
She laughed and he smiled. He'd always liked the way she laughed. It was the kind of laugh kids squeezed out of people. Fun and joyful and it sparkled in her cinnamon eyes. "Hey, I go out."
"Taking the kids to a Disney movie doesn't count."
She wrinkled her nose. "Well, I'm going to let my hair down tonight."
Mitch glanced at the limp ponytail and the strands of hair falling out everywhere. "Sure. Just don't get drunk and kiss any guys, okay? That's our thing."
She quirked an eyebrow, a small smile playing on her mouth. "We have a thing?"
Mitch liked how she could not only banter with him and weather a bunch of senior citizens trying to get them into bed, but she could also kiss him from time to time without wanting to wear his ring and have his babies.
She'd made it clear from the start that he wasn't her type, and if the suits he saw come and go occasionally from her place were any indication then she was right. Which was fine by him. He wasn't exactly lacking in female company and was perfectly happy to be her type whenever she was sufficiently lubed and looking for a bit of rough.
"Apparently only when you've had too much to drink."
She smiled. "I promise I'll only kiss guys when I'm sober."
Mitch laughed as she sashayed off. Of course, maybe she wasn't sashaying at all. It was hard to tell beneath the shirt that fell in a voluminous sheath down the backs of her thighs. He liked to think she was. That she was throwing in an extra little wiggle just for him.
There was a pool party next week for Dot Turner's eightieth birthday. Maybe she'd wear her one-piece. Maybe she'd have one too many of her grandmother's lethal mojitos and push him against his door again.
Or maybe this time she wouldn't drink anything and kiss him anyway. Just for the hell of it.
He'd be up for that too.
"You disobeyed me, didn't you?" A man dressed in a business suit glared at the woman bent over a desk, her bare ass exposed for everyone to see. Her hands were wrapped over the edge of the desk, gripping tight.
"Yes, sir," she replied, her voice tremulous.
"You know what the punishment is for that?"
"What?" He prowled back and forth behind her within the confines of the small, candlelit room, oblivious to the audience watching him through the glass and listening courtesy of the discreet speakers. They both seemed oblivious, caught in their own fantasy world. "Tell me."
"The crop, sir."
The suit stopped pacing and picked up a long, thin object with a wide flat head lying on the desk beside her. "Yes." It whistled through the air and came down with a crack on the desk beside her.
Flame shadows wavered on the walls as the woman flinched and bit down on her bottom lip. Her knuckles went white. He rubbed the flat flexible head over the woman's pale buttocks and down the backs of her thighs to the lacy edge of her pull-up stockings.
"You want it, don't you?"
When he drew it up again he dragged it slowly over her sex and the cleft of her buttock as she rolled her hips in invitation.
"Yes." She parted her legs a little wider.
He tapped the flat of the crop dead center of her right buttock and the woman moaned. "Yes, who?"
He tapped it on her left buttock. Then tapped it all over the globes of her ass, lightly at first then harder, the skin soon glowing pink in the candlelight as she moaned and writhed, ecstasy etched into every line of her face. "Please, sir," she begged.
"What do you want?" The crop stilled momentarily before he slid it down to her sex again, stroking it there.
The woman gasped. "I want to come, sir."
"No." He stroked some more before administering a light tap to her engorged lips and she bucked. "Only obedient subs get to come."
"I'm sorry, sir. I'll be good." He tapped again then rubbed and the woman moaned out loud. "Please, sir. I promise to be more obedient."
"You will be once I've flogged you some more." He lifted the crop and delivered blow after stinging blow to her buttocks.
The woman panted heavily, her eyes practically rolled back in her head.
"You want to come now?" he demanded after a pattern of red scorched both cheeks.
"Yes." The woman's legs were clearly trembling, her buttocks clenching convulsively.
The crop whistled through the air and flicked against her flesh. "Yes, what?"
"Yes sir, yes sir, yes sir." The woman moaned as she rose onto her tippy toes and rotated her hips wildly, the flat of the crop rubbing along the seam of her sex.
"Now." He lifted the crop to flick it in fast light taps against her drenched lips. "You will come now."
"Yes, sir." She groaned, her head thrown back, her knuckles white as a low keening note escaped her mouth.
Her hips lifted, jerked and bucked, pushing back into the punishment, seeking the continual sting of the crop as her climax shuddered through her and thundered around the room. The candles flickered again as her cries disturbed the air currents in the small space.
"Holy fuck," Darcy whispered around the straw stuck in her pink margarita as she watched the display, grateful she was on her way to hammered. Her gaze locked on the complete and utter rapture on the woman's face. She seemed to be in some kind of trance or had travelled to some other plane.
When Karen, one of her work colleagues, had said she knew somebody who could get them into the famed voyeur club, Fine Lines, Darcy hadn't been that keen. The cover price was steep and she'd been in the mood for dancing. But she knew for damn sure, as her pulse drummed through her ears, she was never going to be the same ever again.
"There's some wax play going on next door," Cindy whispered, and they all shuffled across to the next display case.
Darcy was aware of the slickness between her legs and the thick chug of her breath as she peered in at the next couple. Two women this time. One had short spiky red hair and was completely naked and spread eagled, shackled by her wrists and ankles to some kind of bench. The other one had long, raven hair and was dressed in some kind of rubber cat suit and spiked heels. She held a lit candle and was dripping hot purple wax over the belly and breasts of the other woman.
"Jesus," somebody murmured as a hot waxy dollop landed directly on a nipple and Red arched off the bench and cried out, "Yessss. More. The other one."
Darcy winced but the woman who was being subjected to the scalding drip of wax was not wincing. She was watching Catwoman intently, her mouth parted, eagerly awaiting the next drop.
Catwoman didn't make her wait very long. She tipped the candle up and poured a pretty line of purple wax from the hollow of Red's throat straight down between her breasts then further, to her belly and down further still.
"Okay." Mandy, the boss of the childcare centre where they all worked broke the mood. "I don't think I can watch where this is heading. We've had our fun, I think we should go now."
Go? Darcy couldn't stop watching the ecstasy on Red's face as hot globules of wax splashed over the lips of her sex. She could watch this all night.
"No wait." Darcy dragged her gaze back to the five women she'd arrived with, not ready to leave yet. Wanting to spend some more time in this world that was so outside her realm she just had to explore it some more.
"It's my turn to buy. Why don't we grab a table and stay for another drink?" God knew there was plenty enough stuff happening all round them without having to indulge in this level of voyeurism.
Mandy looked at the others who all nodded. "Another round of margaritas coming up," Darcy said, as she made her way in the subdued lighting to the closest bar. Fine Lines had three — one on each level.
Yes. There were levels.
Even the thought of what might go on in the other levels made Darcy weak in interesting places.
The guy behind the bar had his back to her unloading some glasses from a tray as she approached. Darcy wasn't sure if it was her heightened state of arousal, the wild pulse of pheromones clogging the air or the fact the guy was built and tanned and shirtless, but she wanted to leap over the wooden barrier and give him a blow job.
She had some sexual energy to burn and she'd bet her grandmother's gaudy fake Fabergé egg, hot bar dude was used to come-ons from liquored and sexed up women.
"Six margaritas, barkeep," she said to his back. "Make 'em extra dirty." She smiled at her tipsy joke.
It lasted for about two seconds, until he turned and pierced her with a very familiar set of whiskey eyes.
"I always knew that'd be the way you'd like it, Henderson."
Darcy blinked. "Mitch?" If this place hadn't already blown her brain it would probably have just exploded out the back of her head. "You work here?"
He nodded. "Two years now."
"You never said you worked here."
"You never asked. Too busy trying to avoid the thing between us."
Darcy wasn't so drunk she didn't know what he was talking about. There had been an instant attraction between them from the day he'd moved in almost a year ago, and they had three hot kisses under their belts to prove it. Some may have said it was inevitable given the next youngest man in the apartment complex was sixty-eight. But scruffy, laid-back men were her kryptonite and she wasn't a teenager anymore.
They'd definitely been her type in her misspent youth but she was older and more mature now. Mitch Callaghan (damn it, even then man's name made her hot) had Heartbreak Hotel written all over him and she was keeping her hands and her addictive personality way the hell away from him. At least when she was sober.
"Where did you think I worked?"
"One of those grungy biker type bars."
He chuckled and Darcy's gaze was drawn to the thick column of his throat. She wondered what he smelled like there. What he tasted like.
She shrugged. "You go off to work in your tattiest jeans and t-shirts. I figured it wasn't anywhere this ..." outlandish "upmarket."
"We change when we get here."
She lifted an eyebrow. "Don't you mean undress?"
Darcy ran her eyes over smooth bronzed pecs. His abs were flat without being overly sculpted and bisected by a strip of hair running into the waistband of his low-riding black trousers. His shoulders were wide, his biceps a meaty handful.
He shrugged. "Less to wash."
She'd seen him shirtless plenty of times. In the pool. Coming back from the beach, the top half of his wetsuit peeled down, his surfboard tucked under his arm. The sight had always done funny things to her belly. Tonight, at his kinky place of work, it was doing wild things in places just a bit to the south.
She thought about how much booze must splash onto those amazing abs. Then she thought about licking it off.
"Don't you feel objectified?" She was sure as hell objectifying the fuck out of him.
Before he could answer, a very tall woman with a tangle of blonde hair and a shrink-wrap dress pulled up at the bar. "The usual, Dana?" he asked with a smile, excusing himself to pour her a glass of champagne.
She handed him a hundred-dollar note and said, "Keep the change, honey," in a very deep voice.
Darcy blinked as the woman sauntered away. She could probably put up with a little objectification with the size of those tips. Nobody tipped childcare workers. Maybe they needed to rethink their uniform ...
Darcy swivelled on her stool as her friends approached. "Oh shit, sorry guys, we're still working on the drinks."
"It's okay. We're going to pass anyway. Elle still wants to go to the new club open on Cavil Avenue and we need to hit the track if we're going to get in before the midnight lock-out."
"Oh." Darcy checked her watch. "Yes, right."
She didn't want to go. Not yet. Not when there were two whole other floors to explore.
And Mitch was behind the bar, half naked.
"Are you coming?" Mandy asked.
A man in leather chaps and vest pulled up at the bar. In his hand he held a leash and attached to the other end was a very pale man on all fours in nothing but a jock strap and a studded leather collar.
He sat on a stool three down from Darcy. "I'll have a beer," he said to Mitch. The man wearing the leash sat at his feet on his haunches, his head bowed.
Internal muscles deep down inside Darcy contracted. Was it wrong to openly stare? Or to be turned on by the sight?
Excerpted from "Hanky-Spanky Christmas"
Copyright © 2017 Amy Andrews.
Excerpted by permission of Entangled Publishing, LLC.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
Darcy Henderson and Mitch Callaghan are the only two residents under the age of thirty living at a senior citizen apartment complex. Mitch lives at the complex working as a handyman in exchange for low rent. But his real job is working as a bartender at Fine Lines, a famed voyeur club. Darcy happens to go to the club not knowing Mitch works there, for the first time with her co-workers. Being in the club awakens desires she never knew she had. But BDSM isn't for everyone and Darcy is going to find that out in this erotic Christmas comedy from Amy Andrews. I enjoyed Hanky Spanky Christmas, but I just wanted more. Darcy and Mitch are fun and playful. The neighbors in the building, especially Grandma and Mrs. T, were definitely something else. I understand that this is a novella but in my opinion something was missing from story. **Received a copy from the publisher and voluntarily reviewed.**
What a fun and sexy novella! Mitch and Darcy were hilarious. Their banter was comedic and fun. I loved how they loved in a senior living environment. Their interactions with the seniors was priceless and funny. Their intimate scenes were hysterical in the beginning but then turned smoking hot. This was definitely a quick and entertaining read. I would love this in series format to get to see them in different aspects of their relationship. I received this book in exchange for an honest review from the publisher through Netgalley.
3.5 “A very spanking Christmas to all” Stars Looking for a steamy and kinky Holiday treat? Look no farther, Hanky-Spanky Christmas is totally it. This is a short, steamy and fun read to enjoy in one sitting, but be warned, it is rather hot. Darcy and Mitch are the only single and under 60 living in the senior citizen’s apartment complex, but their chemistry is not due only to that. They’ve been mostly fighting the attraction for some time, and the few (drunken in Darcy’s case) kisses they’ve shared didn’t do squat to ease it. Now that Darcy has discovered exactly where Mitch works, and her newfound desire to experiment with some spanking they’ll be spending a very interesting Christmas. Mitch was sexy, hot, really handy and all man *wink-wink*. Just like Darcy, he was fun and hard-working. She was dedicated to her job as a child-care provider and was trying to get her adult life on track. I really enjoyed their chemistry together and had lots of fun with the unexpected direction this story took. In the end, I had lots of laughs (especially with the older residents), I had to fan myself in more than one instance and I was left totally hooked and wanting for more. Maybe we’ll get another peek at them sometime soon. *I voluntarily reviewed a complimentary copy of this book.*
Darcy gets her first taste of BDSM when she visits a voyeurism club where her neighbor, Mitch bartends at. She drunkenly asks Mitch to spank her that night but he refuses to take advantage and told her to ask him when she is sober. Imagine Mitch's surprise when Darcy shows up at his door the next day. Sober. You're not gonna get a deeply connected love story with this because it's just too short, but it's great for just a touch of naughty in between longer books. These two live in an elderly apartment complex so it had a touch of humor to it with the old ladies comments. It's a short, fun and safe read with BDSM. ARC provided by NetGalley.
Loved this funny, sexy and kinky romance. Amy Andrew brings the right amount of witty banter, fun, and sexy with heat, in this story of exploration into BDSM. After going to a voyeur club with friends, Darcy is looking for some help to satisfy a craving she has had ever since. Who better to help her, but her neighbor and the bartender at the voyeur club, Mitch Callaghan. Mitch is more than willing to help Darcy with her exploration into BDSM. Especially since the chemistry between them has been sizzling since they met. But will Darcy exploration prove to be all that she thought it would be. You will need to read to find out. This story had me laughing out loud from the witty banter as well as the crazy shenanigans of the seniors who live in the senior living complex, alongside Mitch and Darcy. I also loved the humor of the main characters as they deal with the reality of their BDSM exploration, giving it a more realistic view. Also Loved, Loved Mrs. T, and the great group of secondary characters. Would love a full length feature on Darcy and Mitch. I voluntarily read and reviewed an advance copy of this book through NetGalley. All thoughts and opinions are my own.
I was in the mood for a short hot read, and Hanky-Spanky Christmas ended up being exactly what I was looking for. Author Amy Andrews never fails to entertain, and this novella is the perfect example of eroticism combined with a hilarious setting. In addition, the cover is cleverly created. Twenty somethings Darcy Henderson and Mitch Callaghan are neighbors. They have apartments in a senior citizen complex, and look after the very lively residents in exchange for rent. Both of them hold-down full-time jobs as well, so free time is truly a luxury. They share an attraction which they have explored with only a few kisses. A voyeur experience at a BDSM club turns Darcy into a very horny woman, and Mitch is who she turns to for some sexual discovery and relief. This is a steamy novella with good character development. The seniors are quite nosy, funny, and full of surprises. Darcy's grandmother is a riot. If you have an hour or so to spare, step inside the kinky world of Hanky-Spanky Christmas. Complimentary copy provided by the publisher via NetGalley.
Take a bit of humor, a dash of kink, and a whole lot of steam and you have this naughty little holiday tale. If your looking for a break from the stresses of the season with a quick steamy read this book is perfect for you. Interesting characters and a humorous storyline will entertain you and give you that break your looking for. I definitely recommend this one.
Need some spice for that ice? Amy Andrews aims to please. With temperatures cold enough to warrant staying indoors, Mitch and Darcy know just how to keep things nice and warm. Hanky - Spanky brings the naughty and the funny in a quick and easy read. It's wickedly short, but the perfect length for love.