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    Wicked Retreat: A Sexy Novella from Steam Books
    Wicked Retreat: A Sexy Novella from Steam Books
    Wicked Retreat: A Sexy Novella from Steam Books
    Ebook106 pages2 hours

    Wicked Retreat: A Sexy Novella from Steam Books

    By Sandra Sinclair and Steam Books

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    About this ebook

    Nina's ready to settle in for a romantic getaway with Warren, her wealthy boyfriend, as the two arrive at his ski resort.

    But they're not alone. They're going to be sharing the lodge with a colorful cast of shady characters:

    Arthur, the plastic surgeon.
    Yuki, the chef.
    Keesha, the widow.
    Tammy, the secretive author.
    Phyllis, the socialite with killer curves.
    Alec, the butler.
    And most surprising of all: Warren's twin brother, William.

    Nina is in for the ride of her life as the eccentric vacationers get into trouble with each other and unveil scandalous secrets. Their weekend retreat will be wicked, but definitely not boring.

    Especially when guests start turning up dead…

    WARNING: This 23,746-word (about 119 pages) novella is a steamy read that features explicit scenes of a sexual nature and may be too much for some readers to handle!

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSteam Books
    Release dateJul 19, 2015
    ISBN9781634573542
    Wicked Retreat: A Sexy Novella from Steam Books
    Author

    Sandra Sinclair

    (Sandra Sinclair) Sandra Sinclair has been a professional writer for years, but after spending most of her career writing marketing copy, she thought it was finally time to follow her passion, which thankfully for us involves igniting her readers’ passion as well. Teaming up with Steam Books Erotica & Romance, Sandra’s ready and willing to make her readers feel the love and lust of her prose. Sandra has a degree in Journalism and had once created storylines for a professional video game, but her true calling is being one of the talented sirens of erotica.

    Read more from Sandra Sinclair

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      Book preview

      Wicked Retreat - Sandra Sinclair

      Table of Contents

      Wicked Retreat Title Page

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      Chapter Seventeen

      Chapter Eighteen

      Chapter Nineteen

      Chapter Twenty

      Chapter Twenty-One

      Chapter Twenty-Two

      About Sandra Sinclair

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      BONUS - Preview of Her Own Worst Enemy by Stacey Allure

      WICKED RETREAT

      - A Sexy Novella from Steam Books

      Sandra Sinclair

      This title is part of the Steam Books ROMANTICA line of novellas and novelettes. Sexy and sensual tales, slender but with added room for romance and characterization!

      Copyright © 2014 Steam Books Erotica & Romance

      All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.

      Chapter One

      A-ah-choo!

      I covered my nose but it was too late: the tickled nerves of my nostrils had sent a bookmark blowing over the edge of my desk along with a layer of dust.

      I rushed to pick it up, then paused to look around the deserted bookstore. If I’d been working somewhere else, anywhere else, I would have complained about the dust. But as it was, a dusty bookstore seemed just fine. It was almost homely, even nostalgic, just like some of the paperbacks and hardcovers we sold that had yellowed pages and folded corners. None of them were covered in plastic. 

      The shop owner, Elaine, preferred them that way and so did I. There was an indescribable joy that came from running your fingers over a book cover, especially if the title was embossed or engraved.

      Still, there was such a thing as too much dust, and since I had just sneezed I did some hasty dusting before going back behind my desk, where a book and a cup of coffee, both yet unfinished, awaited.

      It wasn’t that I was slacking off. There was simply nothing else to do. Lately, the number of customers had been getting smaller and smaller. Some days we only had three at most who came in through the door, two of which browsed and only one bought something. The sense of impending closure grew with each passing day. All the more reason to read as many books in the store as I could.

      As usual, seconds after I started reading, I was lost in another world conjured by someone else’s pen. I was a princess, a wizard, an elf; and I was just about to step into the buckled boots of a warrior when a voice interrupted me.

      Does this have a happy ending?

      I tore my gaze away from the book so I could look up, my breath catching as I unwittingly studied the man standing in front of me. Dark brown hair. Blue eyes. Full lips. Broad shoulders.

      A hunk had just walked into the bookstore.

      He was such a rare sight I almost forgot about his question, but remembering it, I quickly stood and looked at the book in his hand.

      That would depend on your definition of a happy ending, I said, recalling the novel.

      I was under the belief that every adjective was subjective—beautiful, happy, rich, funny—though I was sure the man in front of me would be considered universally handsome.

      I see. He stared at the book and then at me. I’ll take it.

      You will? I was unable to hide my surprise.

      I like books that are open to interpretation.

      I could believe that. What I was still struggling to believe, though, was the fact that he was buying a book at a small old bookstore. He looked like a million bucks—almost literally, if the ring and the crisp shirt he wore were any indication—so shouldn’t he be buying his books at the well-lit two-story bookstore two blocks away or asking his secretary to buy them online?

      Do you like happy endings? he asked suddenly, making me stop in the middle of slipping the book he wanted inside a paper bag.

      It seemed like an innocent question—this was a bookstore, not a shady massage parlor—but I knew it wasn’t. If I said I liked happy endings, he would peg me for a romantic, an idealist. If I said I didn’t, he’d think I was a cynic. I considered myself a little of both.

      I like perfectly natural endings, I answered smoothly as I could as I continued with my task. Some stories are meant to end happily and some are meant to end sadly. Furthermore, some stories are meant to never end.

      Hmm. He stroked his chin, which sported a day’s growth of stubble. I wonder how our story will end.

      I felt my eyebrows raise ever so slightly. Our story?

      Of course, it has to begin first, he went on. I’m Warren. Would you, by any chance, be free tonight at around seven?

      ~ ~ ~

      That was six months ago. I actually wasn’t free but he insisted. The first date led to another and then another, Warren too charming for me to resist. After the fourth date we had sex, and it was amazing. We had been doing it at least once a week ever since, unless he was away on a business trip, which was pretty often.

      Today, we were set to cross another threshold. We were going to spend our first weekend out of town.

      Just as I had thought, Warren was rich. No—he was wealthy. So wealthy that he owned a ski resort in Canada. And that’s where I was headed right then, in a helicopter. At first my heart was beating fast because of I was scared of flying, but now my heart thumped simply because I was excited; excited to see Warren and excited to see the place where we would surely spend an unforgettable weekend.

      The moment I got a glimpse of it through the window I gasped. There it stood: a magnificent two-story log-and-stone cabin with a black slate roof and a tall stone chimney. A majestic pine tree stood right in the middle of the paved courtyard, its boughs dressed in hundreds of tiny golden lights and shimmering trinkets. On one side of the house was a skating rink with a giant snow globe in the middle and on the other side of it a swimming pool completely encased in glass.

      The helicopter landed minutes later. The man sitting beside the pilot opened the door for me and carried my things, handing them over to a man I presumed was the butler, who was waiting at the steps leading to the lodge.

      After greeting him I entered, and my eyes grew wide as I realized how the lodge appeared even more magnificent from the inside than from the outside.  A large crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling of the entrance hall, the walls of which were lined with impressive paintings. The living room was massive and had a large stone fireplace, in front of which a luxurious fur rug was spread.

      Even my room was something out of my dreams, with the canopied bed with red rose petals scattered on its sheets, the

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