Graduate student Ashley Dixon needs $10,000 to bail her dad out of jail for allegedly robbing an ATM. Randy’s Diner—a place people go to receive “service with little more than a smile”—promises to be the perfect job to earn cash. If only Ashley can get over the scandalous things the waitstaff and customers do over an order of a burger and fries.
Divorcé Oliver Clarke is accustomed to dominating both in his professional life as CIO at a Fortune 1000 company and also in the BDSM scene. He knows he’s found his ideal submissive after one look at the wholesome little waitress inside his favorite diner. First Oliver must rein in his desire before he frightens away his new obsession.
Ashley is faced with a tough choice. Can she accept being Oliver’s slave for cash to free her dad, or will she need more?
This is the 2nd book in the Randy’s Diner series. New to Randy’s? No problem! The books can be read in any order.
Story Excerpt (mildly steamy)
“You want a girlfriend who won’t call you a pervert when you whip out the nipple clamps at dinner.”
Oliver was so flummoxed by the sweet little thing’s sudden outburst that he could only sit staring at the side of her face. She was watching the floor as if there was something of great interest there. He found his eyes tracing the direction of her gaze to see if there was. It appeared a collection of tiles like the others.
He thought it was important he choose his words carefully with this one. As he contemplated which to use in order to persuade her to agree, he realized he’d begun this conversation far too early. She’d experienced a mere spanking. She had no inkling of what else he’d want of her. It wasn’t fair to either of them to continue this discussion now.
And so he leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “What I want right now is to bring you to the edge of orgasm but withhold it because you were a bad girl.”
Her breathing quickened, lifting her chest higher. “That’s not nice,” she whispered, hardening his dick in an instant.
“And I want permission to unbutton your shirt,” Oliver added. Thankfully his soft volume hid his hoarse voice.
A small gasp emitted from her gently parted lips. He thought about pushing his finger in her mouth and rubbing her tongue until she sucked on it. Seeing her breasts up close was more important.
Slowly she nodded her head—the permission he’d needed. With his palm still holding her waist, he used his left hand to unfasten the first of the clear plastic discs at the collar of her white shirt. Their next inhalation together was labored.
He thought of doing this somewhere private. Of how he’d undress her in his lap like the cherished creature she was, and then he’d redress her in leather tooled with his initials. Those honey waves would look perfect cascading over a red-leather bustier.
Oliver quickly revealed she was wearing a delicate white lace bra beneath her shirt. The undergarment had a front clasp that would allow him access once he had permission to go that far. He steadily pulled the shirt from the band of her skirt so he could finish his unfastening. Her pert breasts lifted at an increasing speed as he did.
Quietly he whispered into her ear, “Do you want me to touch them?”
His eyes fluttered closed. Her breathless voice was simply perfect, even if she hadn’t called him sir. It simply meant she was distracted by her needs. And he hadn’t asked her to address him in any specific fashion. Next time.
Oliver spread the white shirt away from a stomach she was tightly clenching. He gently ran his knuckles over her abdomen on up her ribs, skimming the valley between her breasts. They caressed beneath her chin adoringly before he gave her what they both wanted.
His little waitress sighed into him when his palm formed over her right breast. He was tempted to grab both to see if she’d give up complete control. But he didn’t want that yet. Instead he nuzzled her ear and murmured that she was beautiful.
He brought his fingers down to tease her nipple, gently tweaking it between his thumb and forefinger. It was already erect but delightfully responsive. He knew he’d have it between his teeth before the shift finished.
“May I unfasten your bra?”
It was a hoarse demand more than a reply. A smile formed on his lips. But he made her wait while he squeezed her breast through the lace several more times. Not until she whimpered did he reach for the plastic clasp keeping her garment fastened.
The fabric eased aside by a pair of inches. Oliver reached up to spread it the rest of the way while she leaned further into him, trusting he would give her what she wanted. He smiled again because she had no idea what was in store for her.
Oliver let himself look at her for a moment as he grazed his nails over her right breast. She was small, no more than a B cup, but they were beautiful little mounds that made his dick strain against his slacks. He’d always preferred his women like this, with femininity that filled a bra without spilling over and taut little nipples he could bring to fine peaks.
“Perfect,” he murmured to her.
“They’re too small.”
“No,” Oliver snapped. “They are perfect. Exactly what I need.”
He proved it by lowering his mouth to the rosy nipple on her left breast. When her shirt got in the way he roughly grabbed hold of her bra with his right hand, tugging it behind her body. It belted her shirt along with it, and in essence locked her arms to her back. Oliver saw her half-bound and panting for his touch and thought he’d come in an instant.
He had to have her.