BDSM Erotic Romance, Multicultural & Interracial
Date Published: August 7, 2026
Newly divorced, Brandi’s in trouble. What she doesn’t need?
Her past coming back to haunt her.
Reeling from her ex-husband’s infidelity and buried in the mountain of
debts he left behind, Brandi needs to make money -- a lot of money -- fast, or
she’ll lose her home. When she applies for a job as a hostess at an
adult club, the last thing she expects is to come face to face with her high
school flame.
Greg has grown up a lot since high school, but he’s never forgotten the
woman who left him behind. No longer a quiet geek, the self-made
multi-millionaire intends to win Brandi back, and his first step is to make
her an offer she can’t refuse. He hires her as his escort for the
evening at an adult party in his mansion. Now he has one night to convince her
he’s matured into the masterful mate she needs.
The following excerpt contains material suitable only for readers 18+.
EXCERPT
Brandi stared at her reflection in the mirror. The lush black velvet suited
her better than she’d expected, contrasting nicely with the soft brown
of her skin. She’d had her hair styled last month -- the day before her
world fell apart -- and it fell just below her shoulders in a shimmery dark
curtain. Definitely a good investment. She twisted sideways, wiggling her
butt. Yup. That skirt was short. Real short. Short enough she’d be
afraid to bend over. Then again, if she bent over her breasts would probably
spill right out of the low-cut top that formed the other half of the costume.
Did people really work in outfits like this?
She gave her head a mental shake. Of course they did. If you wanted the big
tips, you needed to show off a little of the merchandise.
Life wasn’t fair, and happily ever afters only happened on the pages of
those sappy romance novels. Losing her job and then watching her husband
desert her for a teenaged slut sure brought that one home in a hurry. She
needed this job, needed to pay off the huge stack of bills he’d left her
with before she lost her home as well, and in this labor market she
couldn’t afford to be picky.
When she’d seen the ad for a hostess at a local after-hours club,
she’d plastered what she hoped was a come-hither smile on her face and
applied for the position. If nothing else, it would give her some breathing
room while she figured out what she wanted to do. She’d be damned if
she’d let that lecherous excuse for a husband ruin her life.
Opening the front closet, Brandi perused the selection of winter coats. Since
she’d been reduced to using public transit, she’d better make sure
the skimpy costume didn’t get her mugged before she got to the
interview. The man who’d dropped off the costume had been very specific.
The interview for the job was at three sharp, and the manager did not expect
to be kept waiting.
Picking a thick wool coat that fell partway down her calves to hide the
scandalous outfit, she made sure she buttoned it all the way up to her chin.
Catching a chill and sneezing all over the manager would not improve her
chances of getting this job. She grabbed her purse off the side table and
locked the door behind her.
* * *
Oh, shit! Brandi folded her hands behind her back and tried not to stare. Greg
Bridger. With the way her luck had been going lately, why hadn’t she
realized it would be him doing the hiring when she desperately needed the job?
Greg Bridger was the guy she’d spent her entire high school career
dating. The guy everyone expected her to marry. The guy she’d walked out
on for the worthless piece of trash who’d just deserted her for the
pom-pom queen.
She hadn’t kept track of him for the past ten years, hadn’t really
given him much thought while she’d been so entranced with her scumbag of
a husband. Maybe she should have. He carried himself with a self assurance
that spoke volumes. He wore his dark hair short these days, in a cut that
flattered the rugged lines of his face. Six feet tall, he had the muscular
frame of someone who spent hours every week at the gym. That hadn’t
always been the case.
Although he’d been quiet in high school, more of a geek than a jock,
Greg had always had plans and dreams, big dreams. Somehow she never thought of
him settling for a safe job like manager of an adult club, even if it was the
most popular club on the east side of town. Maybe he’d decided to trade
in his dreams of corporate success for that fantastic body.
She had no idea if she had a snowball’s chance in hell of getting this
job. If Greg recognized her, he gave no sign. He circled her slowly, his eyes
impersonal as he made notes on the clipboard he was holding. Was it her
imagination, or did his eyes linger with just a hint of lust on her cleavage?
And should that upset her or give her hope?
Brandi made an effort to rein in her errant libido and tried not to fidget. It
wasn’t her fault. Seeing Greg again had been a shock, and reawakened
feelings she’d long forgotten. He’d been an enthusiastic, if
somewhat awkward lover in high school, and he’d matured impressively in
the last ten years. Sex appeal was stamped all over his rugged frame, and if
she were honest with herself, she had to admit that her husband had never
really satisfied her in the bedroom. She’d always longed for him to be a
bit more inventive, but he’d never really done more than give her a
quick slam-bam before he’d rolled over and commenced snoring.
After the first few disappointing months, she’d resigned herself to a
less than inspired sex life. She was surprised to feel the corner of her mouth
tugging upward as she wondered if the little tart he’d run off with was
getting bored with his insipid technique yet.
“Do you find this amusing? I was under the impression you wanted this
job.” Frost tinged Greg’s voice as he stopped in front of her, one
dark eyebrow raised in query.
“Not at all, sir.” It was fairly obvious he didn’t recognize
her, and personal history aside, she really did need this job. “I was
thinking of something else. It won’t happen again.”
“See that it doesn’t.” His voice rang with disapproval.
“I expect my staff to pay close attention to my instructions at all
times.”
“Of course.” Damn. She really needed this job.
“Well, then.” His gaze swept over her in frank assessment before
he consulted the tablet. “I have to say, I don’t feel you are
suited for the position.”
Brandi felt her heart drop. She really needed this job. “You
don’t? I’ll work really hard, I promise.” She hated the
whining note in her voice. “I’ll do whatever you want me to. Just
give me a chance.”
A hint of a smile hovered at the corner of his mouth. “I’m afraid
not. We are looking for someone younger, someone the clients will keep buying
more drinks from in the hopes of getting lucky.” His gaze swept over her
briefly. “You are definitely not the cheerleader type. The clients would
take one look at you and know they were outclassed. I do, however, have
another opening that you might be interested in. If you would care to take a
seat out in the lobby while I finish up here?”
Crap! He’d as much as told her she was over the hill. Definitely not
something you want to hear from an ex-lover. Then again, he had mentioned
another position. She’d come looking for a job, not a lover. At least he
wasn’t holding their shared past against her, assuming he even
recognized her. He’d given no signs.
About the Author
Anne Kane lives in the beautiful Okanagan Valley with a bouncy little rescue
dog whose breed defies description, a cantankerous Himalayan cat, and too many
fish to count. She spent many years trying to fit in and act normal, but
finally gave up the effort. She started writing romance in 2008, and her fate
was sealed when she won a publishing contract with Red Sage Publishing and
just a month later Changeling Press accepted her first submission. Since then
she has published more than thirty stories in a variety of sub-genres, all
with a happily ever after.
She has two handsome sons and six adorable grandchildren and enjoys spending
time with them whenever she can. Her hobbies, when she’s not playing
with the characters in her head, include kayaking, hiking, swimming, playing
guitar, singing and of course, reading.
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