Feral Appetites

145 Pages·2007·27.81 MB·English

by  Renee Fischer

FerlilL
Appetttes
Renee Fischer
Feral Appetites Copyright© Renee Fischer 2007. All rights reserved. This book
may not be copied or reproduced, in whole or in part, by any means, electronic,
mechanical or otherwise without written permission from the publisher except
by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review. Cover art Copyright
© Arc Manor Publishers, Rockville, MD. Manufactured in the United States
of America.
Tarikian, TARK Classic Fiction, Arc Manor, Arc Manor Classic Reprints and
logos associated with those imprints are trademarks or registered trademarks of
Arc Manor Publishers, Rockville, Maryland.
1l1is book is presented as is, without any warranties (implied or otherwise) as to the
accuracy of the production, teJ>.i or translation. This is a work off iction.
lSB -13: 978-0-9794154-1-8
~
an imprint of Arc Manor
P. 0. Box 10339
Rockville, MD 20849-0339
United States of America
DEDICATION
To my family, because ahhh, I'm working on a sequel
and I'm afraid they will be fending for themselves
again. So I'll have to admit this is sucking up at its fin
est because I need to buy more free time. To my honey,
truly I could never understand the many facets of love
without you. 1\venty years later, and you are still my
inspiration, amazing. To my publisher, oh my God did
you really say yes? I'm still waiting for the other shoe
to drop. To all the many people in both real life and E
life that provide stimulation. Bet you strangers didn't
realize you were giving me ideas while playing on line
games? My final dedication goes to you, the reader.
Without readers, we wouldn't have writers. Enjoy!

CHAPTER ONE
B
EING dominant is an enormous ego trip. For Mr.
Jake Johnson, CEO of Creative Innovations Inc.,
commanding those within his world was something
he did daily. Mr. Johnson demanded-and received
everything he desired. With a flick of wrist, he could
change countries ift he whim seemed intriguing enough.
Today, though, Mr. Johnson discovered that desires
are not always whims for him alone. Sometimes one's
dramatic slide down the rabbit hole can turn into a way
oflife. Today, Mr. Johnson falls.
Knowing Mr. Johnson's late-night routine, his driver
patiently awaited the powerful man working in the
building above. He was halfway through the latest
King novel when Mr. Johnson settled into the backseat.
As they exited the garage, another vehicle suddenly
swerved, attempting but failing to miss the black Town
car. With a screech of wheels and a three-second lapse,
the cars connected with a slight jar. Acutely aware of
the influential man he was transporting, the driver
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RENEE FISCHER
considered the gun nestled in the glove compartment;
then he sees her.
Rising up from within the sporty, white Corvette was
a woman of curve and blatant sexual expression. Her
long, red hair billowed in the wind and flowed around
her body, which was scantily clad in cream leather. His
eyes drew instinctively to the long, bare legs, which
begged to be touched. The leather top, which accen
tuated her curves, pushed her creamy breasts into an
appetizing snack. Her full lips, painted fire engine red,
pouted with ease. Green eyes boldly blazed with blunt
promises: speaking silently of passion, sex, and wild
abandon.
Slowly swaying around the Corvette, the woman's
pout grew into a smile of sexual intention and whimsy
as she offered her apologies. Keeping his tongue in
check, the driver asked if she was all right.
"Aren't you such a sweetheart. I'm fine," she smiled.
She moved within touching distance, and with the
swiftness of a snake's strike, she grabbed his out
stretched hand and plunged the syringe.
"What the. ..? " Before he could complete the sentence,
he slumped forward, into her.
"Oh my God, are you OK?" she feigned, as she tried to
keep him from falling. The ploy worked. Mr. Johnson
emerged from the vehicle toward the woman strug
gling to hold the fast-crumbling driver.
"What happened?" he calmly inquired yet with con
trolled concern. He bent down to relieve her burden.
Struggling to support the unconscious man, she
breathlessly whispered, "I don't know. .. but he's falling."
Mr. Johnson quickly grasped his driver to assist the
woman staggering under the strain.
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FERAL APPETITES
"I'll call 911," she said, readily reaching for her cell. As
Mr. Johnson leaned to carefully lay down his driver, he
never saw the syringe meant for him.
7
Two
cHAPTER
FLAT on his back and blindfolded, Johnson's ears
strained to distinguish the slightest sound. Al
though the room was dark, his eyes were tightly
blindfolded with a silky cloth. Wriggling his head back
and forth, he strived to dislodge the material covering
his eyes with zero success. Attempting to move the
rest of his body, his arms met resistance; his legs also
strained against stanch bonds. He shivered slightly as
he realized, too, that he was completely naked. Rocking
his body, he tried to release the bonds, but to no avail.
Struggling was futile. He reluctantly acknowledged
he was without control and in the complete captivity
of his abductor. His mind, being sound and no longer
groggy, began quickly deciphering his options. As his
mind ticked through ideas, his nose suddenly detected
the scent of ginger and cinnamon near his right. The
sound of clicking heels echoed around him. With the
darkness clouding his vision, he could only guess at
the size of his prison. It seemed as though the echo of
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FERAL APPETITES
clicking didn't travel far before bouncing back; hinting
at a small confinement.
"Welcome back, Mr. Johnson. I was getting anxious
for you to awaken. So, how does it feel to have no con
trol?" The woman's husky voice taunted as her warm
breath was released directly into his ear. She was
whispering the obvious.
He instinctively recoiled from that feminine voice,
but with frustration running rampant, he dejectedly
accepted that he didn't recognize the voice despite his
reaction.
"You have such a splendid body, washboard abs, round
ed pecks, and luscious nipples dying to be plucked,"
she cooed. "Do you know how often I've dreamt of your
body beneath me? Imagine my surprise at discover
ing a shaved groin area when I gleefully removed your
clothes. How considerate you were Mr. Johnson in
seeming to instinctively fathom how much that would
turn me on," she continued huskily. Her moist mouth
wrapped around his earlobe.
His head remained still as her teeth gently bit into
the tender flesh. "Don't move or I might just take a
bite," she said. The words floated past, tickling his ear.
He forced his body to ignore the jolt of pleasure that
the small touch produced.
"How much do you want?" he finally demanded try
ing to regain some sense of control. Bringing to bear
all his years of commanding presence, he prepared to
negotiate despite his outrageous circumstances.
Releasing his ear, the voice whispered candidly, "Oh,
don't get me wrong, I want everything. But what I want
can't be bought. I want you screaming. I want you beg
ging me to claim you, take you. You'll collapse from
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