Lace, Lust and Liars

By Michelle Libby

For newspaper reporter Nina Blackington, her newest assignment just got scorchin'. A plot to embarrass her out of her position at the newspaper backfires when she meets Vince DeMarco at the Hottie Mansion, Maine's answer to the Playboy Mansion. Vince is charged with loosening her up and gives her more than just an pep talk. Nina is finally ready for the interview of her life with the owner of Hottie Magazine, when power is cut to the compound. Then, the story takes a crazy twist and things really get out of control.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Happy Trails Publishing
• Release date: Oct 12, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393062721

Book preview

Dedication

To all of those who like a bit of naughty.

One

The house itself was monstrous. Lit with the full light of the evening sun it was impressive. Carved stone walls, solid wood doors. It looked more like an eighteenth-century castle than a twenty-first century home. A lush green lawn covered the front yard, with a round driveway that cut a black swath from the road to the front door and then back to the gate, where Nina Blackington stood with her mouth

hanging open.

Oh crud.

Nina ran her hands over her dark pinstripe suit. Her black pants fit snugly over her trim waist and hips. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs and pushing out her meager sized B cups. In this arena, she knew her breasts would be under-gunned.

She put her hand up to the solid wood gate. It vibrated with the bass from the music within. The pounding, grinding music was perfect for what she expected to see at the hottest party of the year.

Sliding her hands to the black iron decorations resembling handles, the gate doors swung open automatically as soon as she touched them. She took another deep breath as the barrier swung in. Clutching her notebook in one hand, she took a tentative step inside the compound keeping her eyes on the ground.

The Hottie Mansion. The place to be if you were young, sexy and beautiful. Nina wasn’t young at thirty, had never been considered sexy and beautiful wasn’t an adjective that was used on her. She brought her hand up to the back of her head. Her French twist was still holding up under the inch of hair spray she’d applied, but in the humidity of the summer night, she doubted the professional look would last long.

Trying to keep the hordes of butterflies from ripping her stomach apart, she looked up and her breath caught in her throat.

When her editor had told her that if she wanted the new full-time reporter position that was opening up, she’d have to cover a party at the house owned by the publisher of Hottie Magazine, she’d never expected this.

Men and women carrying drinks and holding on to one another strolled around the lawn, but from the sound of the music, the party was in full swing out back.

Nina watched a woman strut by in her pink lace teddy, her rosy nipples showing through the delicate pattern. The woman smiled boldly at Nina and then walked across the

lawn to meet a couple already kissing and half undressed. Nina cocked her head to the side. She didn’t think of herself as a prude, there were times when decorum was called for. A time for professionalism to rein. She didn’t

understand how people expected to get ahead if they acted like horny teenagers while on the job. To her work was work and play was play. That’s how it had always been. Nina didn’t have any experience with women and men who flaunted their sexuality. Yet here she was, surrounded by women with barely covered melon-sized breasts, and men who took advantage of all the women offered. And this was a

professional business party. She was way out of her element, but she was ready to tackle her latest job. She tried to concentrate on what she would put into her article. For instance, what kind of woman parades around half-dressed to be ogled by horny men?

She would if she had the body, she admitted with a smirk. She couldn’t imagine men looking at her as a sex object. She’d always been seen as a meal ticket to the men in her life. Her family had lots of money and none of her few boyfriends had ever thought to tell her anything other than how wealthy she was, and what she could buy for them.

She circled around the side of the house, steeling herself for what she might find.

Excuse me? a man touched her sleeve to get her attention. Can I help you with something?

Um. She looked into his kind features. I’m from the press. He was huge. His bare chest had more hills and valleys than the entire coast of Maine. Tanned muscles bunched and gathered as he watched her.

That explains the outfit, he said.

I was going for professional.

I guess there’s a difference in what we call professional and what you call it. I’m Ted, security for the boss. He pointed to his waistband and the badge hooked there. She stole a quick glance and couldn’t help her eyes from sliding over to the bulge behind his skin tight jeans. Damn! That man was huge. Either that, or he stuffed his

pants with socks. She checked his feet and doubted that was the case.

If you need anything, he said