Snippet: The Bound Heart

Sensual Snippet

This is near the beginning of THE BOUND HEART….

Olive has just come from her weekly visit to drop twine, cord and bookbinding supplies to Mr Jamie Edwards, the Bond Street Bookshop’s bookbinder. On her way out she slips down the back steps to the Velvet Basement, to see her worldly friend Evie, shop assistant at the illicit and opulent sex-hop housed below the bookshop.

“Now you, miss, should not stay here. And leave upstairs well alone. He’s not your type, trust me I would know.” Evie turned back to the counter and continued to order photos in a box.
What was her type? If she didn’t know how could Evie think she knew? The truth was that Mr Edwards was very much her type. Something about his reserve, the formal way he had, made her quake and warm up at the same time.
Evie glanced back over her shoulder and huffed at her.
“Thought so. You don’t believe me. All stars pouring out of your eyes like he was some lost prince that just needed the right woman to be happy.” Evie turned back to the box. “Let me show you what makes that boy happy.”
Evie’s fingers rapidly flipped through the box as flashes of flesh in all manner of situations flicked by. This was not a box of naked backs and bottoms. She pulled one, two, three items from the box and pushed it to the side. “Pay attention Olive.”
Olive’s heart started to beat faster and a current like the fast rivulets of rain running down glass planes seemed to be running under her skin.
Evie laid the first photo on the counter.
Olive leaned in closer, heat flashed hot and sharp in her belly. It was a woman over a man’s knee.
Close up, just as if the picture was taken from the man’s view looking down. The sepia tones of his dark suit and the light cream of the woman’s round bottom, full thighs and narrow waist. All naked. In the far right was his raised hand. The photo had some soft pink hand painted in a translucent water color over the woman’s bottom. The warm hot marks from the slaps. They glowed out of the photo in a way that made it hard to breathe.
“See that hand?” Evie’s voice was firm. “That is Mr. Edward’s hand, Olive. Mr. Edward sells these photos to the shop.”
Her heart beat hard in her chest. Mr. Edwards?
Olive went to speak but Evie interrupted her.
“There’s more.”



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