When Only a Woman’s Touch Will Do…

Mmm – you all know how much I love sex and passion, all things seductive. Right? Well, I think for sensual creatures we can crave and certainly appreciate the beauty of the same sex. I love the scent of a woman, the subtle and complicated looks she can give and the way she can make you feel good or TERRIBLE in a snap. Women are tricky, ballsy, wicked, and oh-so delicious. I enjoy writing aboutLove's-Reprise-cover the passion shared between women and yes there are differences. From the touching to the kisses, the sex can be…oh-la-la.

Have I indulged? Ssshhh… Don’t tell anyone!  I was lucky enough to be asked to join in on a sexy f/f anthology presented by Lazy Day Publications. I have some friends in a hot little spanking room on Facebook and these ladies know how much I appreciate all things sexy. And spanking too. So… I developed what I think is one HOT story and it’ll becoming out in a few short weeks. I thought you might like a first taste from the collection and my piece…


“And you will be mine!” Throwing her arm behind her head, Ginger Parsons arched her back as the heady guitar licks floated toward the screaming audience. She held the stance, her feet planted apart, her flaming red hair highlighted by the flashing lights crisscrossing the stage. This was the moment adrenaline kicked her ass, reminding her how very much alive and in her element she was. This was the only place she felt comfortable.

“More. More. More!”

The chant was always the same, the audience hungry. Smiling, she took a step toward the edge of the stage, giving her bass player a practiced look, one dripping of sex appeal, and the crowd went wild. She was very much in control of the moment and her band members were waiting for her cue, one that always came. This was a show and she the audience expected a wild child. Dropping her arm, the lights went completely dark and a collective gasp roared through the coliseum. She counted off bars.


The lights swirled in fuchsia and emerald green, lighting up the stage as well as the first few rows, fireworks booming from every corner. Ginger jumped into the air and sex kittenthe moment she came down she strummed the first chord for their number one selling single. Driven Wild was the hottest alternative rock band in the United States and making headway in Europe and beyond. Their CD’s always rocketed to number one. Purring, Ginger raced back and forth across the stage, making eye contact with everyone sitting in the first row as the band kicked the song into high gear. The gritty ballad was by far their most emotive, one she was extremely proud of. After all, the song was about her life.

Ginger pranced as she bellowed out the haunting words, anger fueling every chord, every verse. She was a woman on fire and the audience loved every second. By the time the band was on the second chorus the crowd was screaming out their name. She took several long strides back toward the cage she’d burst onto the stage in, gripping the bars like a slave. As the last verse came to an end, she blew a kiss to her drummer before easing behind the cold steel and chuckled. This was nothing more than art imitating life. The moment she played the last guitar riff she issued a keening scream. The concert was finally over.

Lowering her head, Ginger blinked several times as tears formed in her eyes. Every time the band played this song she was left feeling hollow inside. She leaned against the bars and concentrated on the sound the mechanism made as it pivoted the cage behind a curtain. Roadies were waiting with bottled water, towels and hands to grab the band’s gear.

“Great show!” he said as he grabbed her guitar, his youthful face beaming.

“Lively crowd tonight,” Ginger said as she moved past, waving to the rest of the crew. They knew her moods, knew to just let her alone after a show. She moved toward the dressing room, yanking off her stilettos as she walked. By the time she got to the last door down a long hallway she was barefoot and ready to rip off the leather skirt that was sticking to her skin. Sometimes looking the part was a pain in the ass. After closing the door she polished off the bottle of water before walking toward the small bar immediately. A glass of wine she needed tonight, maybe two or five.

Ginger chastised herself for the weakness but the after party, one hosted by the very demanding Draeven Montgomery, would not doubt grate her nerves. He was always looking for a good time, usually at her expense. Draeven was considered a movie star and Hollywood’s number one male sex symbol. Every party he threw was on the ‘A’ list, no matter the theme of the event. And the catered soiree was always lavish. Tonight he was hosting one in Ginger’s honor. She snorted as she poured a glass of cabernet, then studied the glass and added more. Yes, the man of everyone’s dreams was not only honoring the end of Driven Wild’s sell out tour, but also her birthday. Rat-ass bastard.

Even thinking the words made her feel better. She gulped her wine and cringed. that kissWasn’t her husband supposed to be honoring such a festive event? Too bad she had no doubt he was merely showing off for the ‘in’ crowd. Of course there would be photographers sequestered in every corner, just waiting for the perfect shot of the loving couple.

Hearing a knock on the door she shook her head and glanced over her shoulder. “Yes?”

The young woman popped her head in, her big brown eyes doe like. “I’m sorry Miss…I mean Mrs. Montgomery but the car is here for you.”

“Jody, we’ve been over this. You can call me Ginger and tell the driver I’ll be there in five minutes. I would like to change.” The car. Just another method to remind her of their supposed status.

“Yes ma ‘am. I mean yes, Ginger.” The words over-pronounced, Jody nodded several times before slamming the door.

Mrs. Montgomery. What a crock. Ginger took another sip of wine then two more before moving toward the change of clothing she’d brought. Fingering the dress she smiled. Scarlet would be perfect for the night and for her mood, especially since it was Draeven’s least favorite color on her. The last time she’d dare worn the provocative hue he’d called her a harlot in front of their friends.

She laughed as she peeled out of her clothes and moved into the shower. Some scathing wench she was. At least her glorified rock star persona was getting it on with every man in Hollywood. As she lathered her body, scrubbing away the stage glitter and grime, all she could think about was who was going to be on the guest list. Certainly no one she knew or cared about. Draeven never allowed her to get but so close to anyone.

Barely two minutes later she dried off and slipped into the slinky material, sliding her hands down from her waist to her hips. Body hugging, the dress suited her hourglass figure perfectly. Ginger glanced at her reflection and shook her head. Where had the bright eyed young woman from horse country gone? The fresh-faced girl with a lust for like had slipped into the darkness, just like her dreams – broken. Shuddering, she bit back a moan and challenged herself to get through the party. It was her birthday after all.

There was no time for lamenting. Draeven didn’t like to be kept waiting and had a particular way of reminding her of that very fact. Refreshing her make-up, her wild mane was going to have to suffice. Before leaving the dressing room she gulped the rest of her wine. Courage. Yeah, that’s what she needed. Or maybe a lobotomy.


As the lead singer of Driven Wild, the hottest alternative rock band in the States, Ginger Parsons seemed to have the dream life. A darling of the media and fans alike, the fact she was married to Draeven Montgomery, a movie star and recent recipient of the “Sexiest Man Alive”, allowed everyone to believe her life was perfect. Little did anyone know about the dark and ugly secrets she kept sequestered deep inside. Her marriage was nothing but lies. After one wretched event, she escaped to her hometown, determined to pick up the pieces.

Samantha Mason, Sammy to all who knew the tom girl, was everybody’s friend. A well respected veterinarian, she lived her life caring for animals – the only creatures she could trust. A chance meeting with her childhood friend, the very woman she’d given her heart to almost fifteen years before, was a reminder that love had no boundaries. A nasty argument and a difficult decision to live a vanilla life had pushed them apart. As a new friendship was formed, the fires that burned within were re-kindled and they explored the dark cravings they both hungered for. But a looming decision faced them both. Could she convince the gorgeous rock star that second chances really could exist?

Mmm – I think yum…

Kisses and spanks…


About Cassandre Dayne

Cassandre Dayne is the pseudo for the best selling author of romantic suspense and thrillers
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