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☆҉☆Dirty Talk by Joey Jameson is #LIVE! #OneClick your copy of this #MMEroticThriller today!
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☆҉☆ Check out the teasers ☆҉☆
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☆҉☆Blurb ☆҉☆
Vegas is a hot phone sex operator who knows just how to make your deepest, darkest fantasies come true either with a gentle whisper in your ear or with a rough growling command. When he’s in control, you know you’re in good hands. Vegas can tickle or scratch whatever itch or fetish a caller can throw at him.
But his job at the exclusive ‘Black Vanilla’ has its dark side, which becomes all too clear when Vegas receives a call one night that hits a little too close to home.
Somewhere out there, someone’s watching him. Someone who’s taken their fantasy one step too far. It isn’t long before Vegas finds himself entangled in a web of dark and dangerous obsession. An obsession that can only end one way.
“Dirty Talk” will take you deep into the world of stimulating oral desire and blur the lines that exist between our ultimate fantasies and harsh reality.
☆҉☆ Excerpt ☆҉☆
Vegas shook his head to rid it of his lustful thoughts and forced the image of Driver, naked, out of his mind. His screen lit up and he typed in his username and password, and he forced himself to think about Dakota. Innocent, safe, handsome, Dakota. He remembered the feeling of his skin under his fingers, the shape of his pecs and the gentle curve of his cock.
His body stirred at the thought.
Last night was exactly what he’d needed to get himself back on track and his head out of the clouds. Somebody his own age who he had something in common with and who actually suggested splitting the bill when the check came. A gentleman, but also someone who knew just how to scratch Vegas’ itches and satisfy him without having to be told.
Oh, yes….
Patching himself into the system, Vegas shook his head once more and attempted to focus on the call that was coming in.
Show time, he told himself.
“Evening handsome, you’ve landed with Vegas, how you doing tonight?”
“Evening, yourself.”
Vegas’ breath hitched instantly in his throat.
It was him.
The caller.
He would recognize that voice anywhere.
Vegas’ ears were greeted with that same deep, throaty breathing that wormed its way into his ear and snaked itself all the way down to the pit of his stomach, leaving his entire core shaking in its wake.
Then came the laughter.
The caller laughed in the most inhuman way. It made Vegas tremble and brought tears prickling to the backs of his eyes. The laugh made his heart palpitate and drum out an insanely loud rhythm that shook his whole frame in his chair.
He was laughing at the effect that he was having on Vegas. Mocking him from God knows where, and taunting him with the power he held over him. He knew his threats were working and playing on a loop in Vegas’ head.
The caller had him right where he wanted him, and the scary thing was that he somehow knew it.
Vegas’ throat was dry and scratchy, like sand paper, and it felt like all the air had been sucked straight out of the room.
“I’m so glad I got to speak to you again.” The caller’s tone was menacing and hung in the air like a heavy fog, echoing against the inside of his skull. “I’ve been watching you.”
Vegas’ eyes searched the room, hoping someone would be looking his way so that he could signal for help since his voice didn’t seem to be working. But the room was full of bowed heads and other people going about their own business. He closed his eyes tightly, wishing the voice to be a dream or in his head. Anything except for real.
“And I know you’ve seen me too….” The man knew Vegas was aware of his stalking behavior.
Vegas shuddered again. He wasn’t imagining it at all. All his paranoia was real.
Not in my head.
Not in my head.
Real.
Oh, Jesus.
He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and attempted to slow his pulse by taking a deep breath.
Come on, Vegas. Don’t let this fucker get one over on you.
He remembered the conversation he’d had with Dakota about how he wasn’t someone who allowed himself to be bullied by anyone. He was strong, and he wasn’t about to start playing the victim to some jackoff who could do nothing to him but make petty threats and speak in a spooky voice.
This ends now.
☆҉☆Meet Joey ☆҉☆
Joey Jameson lives in Brighton, UK where he spends his days as a self-proclaimed beach bum. He believes there is nothing better in life than being by the sea with a large glass of red in hand and the sun on your face. His work is best appreciated with a hard drink and the lights down low and will leave you wondering just what goes on in that twisted little mind of his. He is the author of “Candy from Strangers”, “Twisted” among other pieces of naughty fiction. Keep your eyes peeled for more titillating tales from him in the near future.
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Email: misterjoeyjameson@gmail.com
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