Twice Upon a Blue Moon
A Totally Bound Publication
Twice Upon a Blue Moon
ISBN #
978-1-78430-492-8
©Copyright Helena Maeve 2015
Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright March 2015
Edited by Sue Meadows
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. Unauthorized 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.
Surface Tension
TWICE UPON A BLUE MOON
Helena Maeve
Book one in the Surface Tension serial
Some affairs are like playing with fire, but knowing you’ll get burned is no reason to throw the game.
When her best friend doesn’t show up after a no-strings date with a man she met in a fetish club, Hazel is duty-bound to fetch her from what could be a sticky situation. She doesn’t expect to find her friend’s date so attractive—or so unflappably cool. Not that it matters. Hazel has been burned before and she knows to stay away from handsome men who are patently out of her league, especially when they’re involved with her one and only friend.
Tesla-driving, suit-wearing Dylan more than fits the bill. But every barb Hazel throws him makes him rise to the challenge, and he doesn’t want her to find a way to say no. But not only does Dylan have his own playroom and a sound grip on the S&M lifestyle, he’s also a man of many secrets. Dylan sees a place for Hazel in his bed, but what he wants is more than a one-night stand.
As she acclimates to the idea that Dylan may not be entirely straight or entirely single, Hazel soon finds herself caught between two dominant men whose bond seems to balance on a knife’s point.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
CSI
: CBS Television Distribution
Norman Bates:
Psycho
, Paramount Pictures
Volvo: The Volvo Group
Hugo Boss: Hugo Boss AG
Kung-Fu Panda
: Paramount Pictures
iPad: Apple Inc.
Casablanca:
Warner Bros.
Rolex: Rolex SA
Formica: Formica Group
Pinterest: Cold Brew Labs
Louis Vuitton: LVMH
Facebook: Facebook, Inc.
Lakers: National Basketball Association
Lolita:
Vladimir Nabakov
Greyhound: Greyhound Lines, Inc.
Duracell: Procter and Gamble
Visa: Visa Inc.
Olive Garden: Darden Restaurants, Inc.
Fried Green Tomatoes
: Universal Pictures
Tesla: Tesla Motors, Inc.
Lady First
: Popu Lady
BMW: Bayerische Motoren Werke AG
Seagrams Extra Dry: Diageo
Days of Our Lives
: Sony Pictures Television
Monopoly: Hasbro Inc.
Starbucks: The Starbucks Corporation
Levi’s: Levi Strauss & Co.
Google: Google, Inc.
Nordstrom: Nordstrom, Inc.
Unforgettable
: Irving Gordon
Habanera
: Georges Bizet
Sleeping Murder
: Agatha Christie
Cosmopolitan
: Hearst Corporation
Ikea: Ikea
Ben and Jerry’s: Ben and Jerry’s Homemade Holdings, Inc.
Diet Coke: The Coca Cola Company
Star Wars:
The Walt Disney Company
Honda Civic: Honda Motor Co., Ltd.
Mustang: Ford Motor Company
Taser: Taser International
Glenfiddich: William Grant & Sons
Columbo
: Universal Studios Home Entertainment
Cirque du Soleil: Cirque du Soleil
The Strange Case of Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
: Robert Louis Stevenson
Real Housewives:
Bravo
Wild Turkey: Austin Nichols Division of Campari Group
Converse: Nike, Inc.
The Wolf of Wall Street
: Paramount Pictures
Abercrombie: Abercrombie & Fitch:
Pride and Prejudice
: Jane Austen
Unforgettable:
Irving Gordon
Ritchie Rich: Harvey Comics
The Wizard of Oz
: Metro-Goldwyn Mayer
Martini: Bacardi
Chapter One
The dashboard clock read one fifty-two. Sadie’s hour had elapsed by two minutes. There was no sign of her when Hazel glanced in the side mirror. She craned her neck over the seat, ignoring the frayed upholstery as she often did, just in case the angle of the mirror was playing tricks. No such luck. The rain-spattered sidewalk was bare of pedestrians.
Across the street, four-seven-one Aulden Way loomed like the homeless—half menacingly lost in shadow, half dolefully run-down.
Hazel drew her lower lip between her teeth. It was just two minutes. Sadie probably got distracted, or maybe adventure time with Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome ran over schedule.
Or, failing that, she was already dead and the longer Hazel dawdled, the more time Tall, Dark and Handsome had to dispose of the body. Her insides roiled at the thought.
Too much
CSI
.
Sadie’s track record with men slanted more toward the chronically unable to commit than the Norman Bates types.
Sadie’s probably fine,
Hazel told herself. The upholstery screeched as she twisted away.
She made a valiant attempt to turn back to her book, defying the kernel of panic blooming in her gut. Her eyes had just begun to glaze over the spidery print when a door clanged open somewhere behind the car.
Hazel twisted in her seat, paperback flying from her hands to nestle somewhere on the floor of the Volvo. A huddled pair stood outside number four-seven-one, zipping up their jackets as they conversed in low voices. Hazel took in their beanies and distressed, low-slung jeans and glanced away again.
Too short, too frumpy. No ankle-breaking stilettos.
Hazel settled back in the seat, heart in her throat and hand on the pepper spray can dangling from the car key. The pair neared at a sluggish pace until eventually they passed the Volvo. They were holding hands.
Hazel watched them until they disappeared from view. Then she tore the keys out of the ignition and shoved open the car door. Instantly, the night chill rushed in to meet her. She stomped her way to the brownstone with a shiver as the icy wind seeped under her clothes. The denim jacket was poor cover from the cold front that had rolled in over the city.
At least it’s stopped raining
. She tested the front door.
Small mercies.
The door swung open with the barest nudge.
Two, three years ago, easy entry into an apartment building on this street would’ve been unthinkable.
Long live the yuppies and their cash.
Security cameras glared down at her from the ceiling. The hallway lamps all worked, too, progressively casting their warm glow over bare brick walls as Hazel started up the stairs. She couldn’t see more than the next story up, but the motion sensors faithfully tracked her steps until she hit the third floor.
Sadie had mentioned that Tall, Dark and Handsome lived in three-B. Judging by the lettering on the doorbell, he also went by ‘Best’. Hazel folded her fingers around the pepper spray can as she raised her other fist to the metal door.
Two loud raps tolled like claps of thunder. She winced with each one.
Seconds passed before the door clanged and unlatched. A dark-haired man stood in the gap wearing dark slacks and a white shirt—a Hugo Boss magazine spread made flesh. He cocked his head, gaze gliding down her body. “Can I…help you?”
He didn’t seem to know what to do with Hazel’s jean and jean outfit. Good. She was the Hardy to Sadie’s Laurel, except blonde and pear-shaped. Where Sadie was slim and angular, Hazel strongly identified with the titular character in
Kung-Fu Panda
.
She could and would gladly sit on Mr. Best if he tried to stand in her way.
“Hazel!” Sadie’s voice rang out from somewhere inside the loft. She came into view a moment later, hopping on one foot as she struggled to slot her red pump onto the other. “Hey. What’re you doin’ here?” Whenever she let her guard down, Sadie’s accent came through loud and clear. Hazel could practically smell the hay bales.
Hazel tried not to squirm under their combined scrutiny. “It’s been an hour.”
You were taking too long.
Best backed out of the doorway with a flourish. “Would you like to come in?” He flicked a hand in invitation, a soft smile playing across his bowed lips. “I make excellent margaritas.”
“No, thanks. I’m only here to pick her up.”