Letitia Drew's new job at Black Stockings Lingerie was the opportunity she had always dreamed of. However, when she found herself strongly attracted to her charismatic Managing Director, Matthew Silverstone, it became evident that he felt the same way. Things took a complicated turn when Matthew's wife, Ursula, discovered their affair and insisted on being part of their intimate encounters. Ursula used her power to threaten Letitia's job unless she cooperated, leading to a series of new and intense sexual experiences. *** Not suitable for young readers or sensitive minds. Contains graphic adult scenes, adult language and situation intended for mature readers only.| 🔞 Prepare to indulge yourself in a world where lust, sin and sexual Debauchery have no boundaries, sexuality dominates and fantasies come alive. Every Dream of yours is sure to come to life in this electric compilation of erotic stories. Enjoy...

Chapter 1 BUILDED ATTRACTION 1

BUILDED ATTRACTION: The Temptation of Clare Markham

SYNOPSIS: When Clare Markham has an extension added to her house, she finds herself increasingly - and mutually - attracted to the hard, muscled body and sheer physicality of builder Gary Newby . . .

Chapter 1

EVERY DAY FOR a week. The same routine. First thing in the morning after she'd dressed and made-up. She felt ashamed of herself. She felt like a guilty schoolgirl, hiding behind the lace curtains of her bedroom window so she could see but not be seen. She couldn't help herself. It was hot and after only a few minutes of digging he would strip off his shirt. His legs were already exposed, jeans cut off at the top of his thighs.

Clare Markham had never seen a body like it, which is why it fascinated her. His chest was broad, his abdomen flat and delineated by hard, stringy muscles, his biceps bulging as he worked.

He was tall with long legs which were contoured by thick, well-defined muscles, his whole body like some relief map of musculature. His buttocks were small and tight and hard, like two cantaloupes wrapped in denim.

But it wasn't only his physique that proved so magnetic. He was handsome too. He had short, blond, curly hair and very blue eyes, under a rugged brow. He had a small, straight nose, sharp, high cheekbones and a square jaw.

She noticed he had small, very delicate ears.

He had arrived with the other builders on the first day that work had begun.

Clare had decided to have her house extended.

She wanted a new kitchen to replace the small, poky room she used at the moment, and a new bathroom that would be en suite with her bedroom. The one could be conveniently constructed above the other. Two months ago she had been promoted to Managing Director of KissCo UK and the alterations were a sort of present to herself. The firm of builders she was using had been recommended by a friend who had been more than satisfied with similar work they had carried out for her.

Reluctantly Clare tore herself away from the bedroom window. The foundations were nearly in place and once they started knocking into the back wall to which the extension was being attached, she would not have such a good vantage point. For one thing she'd have to move into the front bedroom. Her daily routine would have to change.

Checking her appearance one last time in the mirror, she adjusted her short black hair with a single sweep of her fingers and marched downstairs.

Morning, Mrs Markham,' George Wickes said politely, although he continued to insist that Clare was married, no matter how many times she told him she was not. Just making sure everything's going well. Sorry about the mess.

Inevitable I'm afraid. George Wickes was the head of the firm of builders and had arrived every morning to inspect the work. He was a large, avuncular man with heavy jowls and a ruddy complexion, the veins on his face very close to the surface. He had eyes like a basset hound and, like Stan Laurel, seemed to take an extraordinarily long time to blink, as if the effort of raising his eyelids was too much for him. Even in the hot weather he wore a tweed sports coat with leather patches on the elbows.

'Going to be worse when they knock through,

Clare said.

'Yes, but we'll do that at the last possible minute.

Less disruption that way.

The whole of the ground floor, including the sitting room and dining room, had been stripped of furniture and sheeted with plastic. The carpets had been taken up and scaffolding boards laid on the floor as a path for the wheelbarrow loads of rubble dug out of the back garden, and the hard core that had to replace it.

'Morning, Mrs Markham.' The blond was coming towards them from the back, wheeling a barrow piled high with soil.

'Morning, Gary,' Clare said, her eyes inevitably dropping to the contours of his chest. Perspiration had run down his collar bone, carving a trail in the dirt and dust that caked his skin. The trail ended at the waistband of the sawn off jeans, the denim darker there where it had soaked up the sweat.

Clare tore her eyes away, not wanting to be caught staring at his crotch. His muscles rippled as he manoeuvred the heavy load past her.

Leaving George Wickes to get on with his inspection she took her car keys out of her bag and followed Gary outside. He wheeled the barrow up a plank to the top of a large skip parked outside her house, and dumped the contents.