Love Uninhibited Read online

  Table of Contents

  Legal Page

  Title Page

  Book Description

  Dedication

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  New Excerpt

  About the Author

  Publisher Page

  Love Uninhibited

  ISBN # 978-1-78430-805-6

  ©Copyright Destiny Moon 2015

  Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright September 2015

  Edited by Jamie D. Rose

  Totally Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2015 by Totally Bound Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

  Totally Bound Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

  Warning:

  This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Totally Burning and a Sexometer of 2.

  LOVE UNINHIBITED

  Destiny Moon

  When Maya admits her darkest fantasy of being captured by a gang of pirates and forced to surrender, Hunter makes her dream come true.

  Every woman has fantasies, but Maya is new to even talking about them, let alone acting on them. A divorcée from Utah, she breaks free from her repressive past when she moves to Boston on a whim. Starting a new life as a single woman in a big city is a challenge, but for someone who was taught that sexual desires were wrong, it is particularly hard. When Hunter, a charming co-worker, wants to date her, she must face her worst fear—that she’s just not ready for a ‘normal’ relationship.

  However, Maya’s attraction to and trust in Hunter eventually pays off. To her own surprise, she finds herself revealing the truth to him. Though she expects judgment, she is met with enthusiasm. Hunter wants to satisfy her deepest darkest longing—to be captured by a gang of pirates and forced to surrender to them. In Hunter she finds a man capable of making her dream come true, but is she ready for the reality of group sex? And is Hunter ready to share his girlfriend with a bunch of other men?

  Dedication

  For B.

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Boston Red Sox: Boston Red Sox Baseball Club LP

  Pirates of the Caribbean: Disney Enterprises Inc.

  Frankenstein: Mary Shelley

  Playboy: Playboy Enterprises International Inc.

  Bugs Bunny: Warner Brothers Entertainment Inc.

  Cosmo: Conde Naste

  Chapter One

  When I first saw Hunter, I thought he was the cutest. His face put me at ease. It wouldn’t be right to call him ruggedly handsome like Pierce Brosnan or anything, but I’d never know how to talk to a guy like that anyway. I could barely talk to Hunter, who was a slightly balding, hairy guy with a tendency to wear T-shirts with logos or sayings like ‘Dessert is Cheaper than Therapy’.

  “You’re new,” he said, passing my desk. I wasn’t used to talking to men at all and was doubtful of everyone in the big city of Boston.

  “I am,” I replied.

  “I like your glasses,” he said.

  I touched them. “Thanks. They belonged to my grandmother.”

  “Really?”

  I nodded. “Bona fide 1950’s elk horn.”

  He smiled and walked on. Whenever he passed my desk, I squirmed.

  Everything in the city was exciting and different. I had my own little room in a shared house just a fifteen-minute walk from the office. It was not where I expected to be at age twenty-six, but life was full of surprises. There were restaurants everywhere with all kinds of food imaginable, and I was surprised to find that I was even kind of fashionable in my own way. I’d gotten accustomed to sewing my own clothes back home and here women stopped me on the streets.

  “Where’d you get that gorgeous retro dress?” one lady asked.

  I showed off my A-frame hem. “This old thing? I made it.”

  “No way!” she said. “You should start your own business.”

  “Would people buy stuff like this?” I asked.

  “Are you kidding? I will. I’ll be your first customer.”

  So that was how I came to know Dalia, who became my first friend since I’d left Utah and my old married life behind. Dalia came over for tea on Sundays, took me to the movies and even talked about that dreaded topic—men.

  “Are you seeing anyone yet?” she asked one weekend.

  I shook my head. “There’s this one guy at work, but he only talks to me for a minute at a time.”

  “Is he cute?”

  “I think so.”

  “Ask him out.”

  “I could never do that.”

  “Maya, you’re going to have to do something sooner or later. You’re way too awesome to be a spinster forever.”

  “A divorcée,” I corrected. “Nothing wrong with being single.”

  “I know there’s nothing wrong with it, but don’t you want the thrill of a new lover? The swoon of being in a man’s arms again?”

  She sounded so enthusiastic I felt myself blush. “I don’t know if they’re worth the trouble.”

  “Who’s this guy at work?”

  “His name’s Hunter.”

  “Don’t you sometimes picture yourself in his embrace?”

  “Well, yeah,” I capitulated. I did. I also dreamed about him. Every now and then, I’d find myself daydreaming about what it’d be like to fall asleep in his arms or wake up to him. I wondered what his place looked like and whether he had a girlfriend or wife.

  “So talk to him.”

  “And say what?”

  “Anything. Tell him you like his name. Tell him you want him to hunt you.”

  I laughed. There was no way I was doing that.

  But the following week, just as he passed my desk, something came over me.

  I blurted, “So what do you hunt, Hunter?”

  Immediately I blushed. With any luck, he didn’t hear it. But he stopped, picked up my paperweight and held it in his hands. It seemed so forward that he felt right at home touching one of my possessions.

  “That depends,” he said, smiling.

  “On?”

  “What’s available?”

  “Oh,” I said, then followed it with a nervous giggle.

  I thought he’d leave and our interaction would be over and I could go back to my private world to analyze every detail of what he’d said. I was not used to men flirting. I was pretty sure he had been. Instead, he stayed by my desk, eyeing me. It was like he was scannin
g my other stationery, looking for something to hold.

  “What are you doing on Friday night?” he asked.

  “Me? I have no plans.” Other than filing my nails.

  “Would you like to have dinner with me?”

  Holy moly. This was the kind of thing that happened in movies, not in my life. Sure, Hunter was no Brad Pitt, but I preferred the Patton Oswalts anyway.

  “Yes,” I said. “That would be nice. It’ll be my first here in Boston.”

  “Your first dinner? I don’t believe that.”

  I thought he was trying to trip me up with that comment. It took me a moment to realize he was joking around with me. Everything was in slow motion because I was nervous.

  “My first date,” I said. “I mean, if that’s what it is. A date, I mean.”

  He put the paperweight down again and tilted his head to one side like he couldn’t understand what I said. “A pretty gal like you? First date? Really?”

  I nodded.

  “Huh. I guess I should have asked you out when I first wanted to. You caught my eye right away when you started.”

  “I did?”

  “Yeah. And it’s been what? Three months now?”

  “Four and a half.”

  “I better snatch you up before anyone else tries to,” he said. “So, Friday. How about I pick you up around seven?”

  “Sure.” I was aflutter at the idea of being snatched up.

  Chapter Two

  At dinner, Hunter said, “There’s something about you that’s different. Something I can’t quite put my finger on.”

  “There’s things about me and my past no one around here would ever understand,” I said, thinking back to the strange life I used to know.

  “That’s ominous,” he said.

  “Let’s just say I’m looking forward, not backward. I never want to live in Utah again.”

  “What brought you to Boston?”

  “The Red Sox.”

  “Seriously? You might be my dream woman.”

  “I won tickets. They flew me out here and I stayed.”

  “Just like that? No looking back?”

  “My life wasn’t going anywhere,” I explained. That was putting it mildly. I’d become the scourge of the town when my ex-husband had divorced me and spread all kinds of insidious lies about me. The elderly ladies had no longer made eye contact, and even my old schoolmates had stopped calling. There had been nothing left.

  “Well, their loss, my gain,” Hunter said and raised his beer. He took a sip.

  That night I tried cider for the first time and it was delicious. Hunter brought me back to his apartment and we sat on his sofa, making more small talk. He went to kiss me, but I sat back.

  “Is this how it’s done in the city?” I asked, sounding a lot like my father probably would have if he’d ever ventured out of our town.

  “Well, uh, I thought we had a nice time tonight.”

  “And that usually leads to kissing?” It was just like in the movies.

  “We don’t have to…”

  “I want to. I just want you to respect me tomorrow, too.”

  “Maya, that is a guarantee,” he said. Taking my face in his hands, he guided me to his lips. Never before had I been kissed like that, soft and slow. I lost myself in that kiss. Hunter had a lot to teach me.

  “Wow,” I whispered when we both pulled back. I looked into his eyes, so full of promise.

  “I take it you’re a bit of an old-fashioned girl,” he said.

  “I’m from a conservative place,” I told him. “But there’s a reason I left it behind. I want to start over again.”

  “I’ll offer my help in any way you would like me to.”

  “There is one thing,” I said.

  “Anything.”

  “Well, in movies, girls in cities, they, uh… They have sex and they don’t feel bad about it. That’s foreign to me.”

  “If you’re going to tell me you want me to help you with that, then you are definitely the woman of my dreams.”

  “I want you to help me with that.”

  He pulled me to him, this time so quickly and forcefully that before I even knew what happened, I was straddled on his lap. He put his arms around me, holding me tightly. It was the best embrace I’d ever experienced, and I did not want it to end. He kissed me again cupping the back of my neck with his palm so that I couldn’t move. I wouldn’t have, even if he hadn’t held me in place.

  * * * *

  By Monday, the butterflies that had threatened to lift me right off the ground and carry me away were overpowered by a voice that told me I could not have Hunter. He came by my desk shortly after ten in the morning.

  “I called you yesterday,” he said.

  “I saw.” I did have Caller ID.

  “But you didn’t call me back. Everything cool?”

  “Yeah, cool. But can we talk at lunch?”

  “Uh oh. That doesn’t sound good. How about let’s talk now?”

  “Where?”

  “Upstairs. In the cafeteria.”

  “All right.”

  I took my purse and swung it over my shoulder. He stayed a few paces ahead of me. We made our way up the stairwell to what I hoped would be a quiet place. Usually people had coffee at their desks. Very few came up here before lunch.

  “How was the rest of your weekend?” Hunter asked, as we turned the corner.

  I was relieved to discover that there was no one in the lounge.

  “It was fine,” I said. “Good.”

  “Sit down,” he said, gesturing to a table with two chairs. He pulled one out for me. I sat.

  “So, tell me, Maya.”

  “I can’t do this,” I blurted. “I can’t get involved with anyone. I can’t be somebody’s special someone. I tried it, and it nearly killed me.”

  “How do you go from asking me to coach you in the ways of big city casual sex to telling me that you can’t be my special someone? What’s wrong with you?”

  “Everything,” I said.

  He laughed at that. I hadn’t meant it to be funny.

  “Sorry I asked,” he said with surprising tenderness.

  “I’m glad you did. Look, I just feel like I’ve got my life finally. I’ve got this job, a little room to call my own. It’s about as good as it’s ever been. I’m afraid to ask for more from life.”

  “Maya.” He put his hand on mine. “That’s about the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “Well, it’s the truth. I had a terrible marriage and I don’t want to repeat any of the same mistakes.”

  He smiled. “How about making different mistakes?”

  “My mind’s made up,” I said.

  “All right. Don’t fault a guy for trying,” he said, getting up from the chair. “I’ll miss you. I thought we had something.”

  With that, he left.

  Chapter Three

  I thought about Hunter constantly, but refused to go over to his department. I went out of my way to go around it instead. I avoided the cafeteria at lunch hour, preferring instead to eat a sandwich at my desk. I came to work ten minutes early and left fifteen minutes late. I succeeded in not crossing paths with him, although I did see him walk by every now and then. I kept my head down and he did not approach me.

  Months passed

  One day, there was a card on my desk addressed to me. I opened it.

  What do you want more than anything else?

  The phrase was handwritten. The card, unsigned. There was a ‘P.S.’ on the back that said, “Answer truthfully and leave this on your desk tonight after work.”

  I scrutinized the writing, the card and the envelope. I looked all around. All day I thought about nothing but my answer. Finally, two minutes before I left, I picked up a pen.

  I want to come out of the shell I’m in. I want to be free.

  * * * *

  The following morning, I took extra care with my black eyeliner, careful to get the cat’s eye look just right. Wearing my f
ifties-style cardigan over my pink A-frame dress, I hurried to work, eager to see if there was anything new.

  There was.

  I tore open another card that said, “I can’t guarantee that you get everything you want, but I can take you to a Red Sox game. Interested? Yours, Hunter.”

  My heart pounded. He hadn’t forgotten about me. He hadn’t moved on, as I so often feared. Before my inhibitions took hold, I scooted out from my desk and made my way down the stairs to his department. He was typing on the computer when I cleared my throat. He turned.

  “Maya,” he said.

  “I’d love to,” I blurted.

  He smiled. “I’m glad.”

  * * * *

  I wanted our second date to be far better than the first. I had acclimated a little more to life in Boston and was no longer as scared. Dalia even lent me a dress to wear that would have given anyone in my family a heart attack. It had a turquoise peek-a-boo lace décolletage that showed off my bust in the most incredible way. The fabric was bold purple and turquoise, the perfect fun and flirty dress to wear to a sports event, at least in my mind. Dalia took me shopping for a garter belt and nylons with sexy black lines down the backs of my legs. If I’d wanted to let go of the meek little housewife image I had of myself when I first got out of Utah, I’d say that dress liberated me.

  “Mmm, Maya. You look smokin’ hot,” Hunter said when I opened the door.

  “Really?” I asked, feigning shyness.

  “Baby, you’re beautiful,” he said. “Hope you don’t mind I called you baby just now.”

  “I liked it,” I said.

  He offered his arm. I looked up and linked my arm in his, allowing him to lead me to his car. He opened the door for me.

  “Thanks,” I said, getting in.