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I’m ready to go on all fours, to be your bitch, your dog. I bought a strap on I want you to wear. It’s big, almost as big as I am. I want you to fuck me, hard, deep.

  When I can’t stand it anymore, when I’m finally ready to erupt, cut the air flow… use your hands. I want your fingers on my throat. I want you to look into my eyes as I struggle to breathe… as my orgasm takes me to new heights.

  Use me, Serena. Abuse me.

  There is no safety net… just the wildest orgasm.

  Price shuddered as he folded up the note and set it on the table. Though unsigned, he knew whose fantasy it was. He knew Michael’s handwriting anywhere.

  Serena had been smart to have all the men at the party sign over their fantasies, very smart. He’d underestimated her.

  And judging by the fantasy that she fulfilled for Michael, he’d also underestimated her ability to be the master. Smiling, he remembered the young protégé he’d taken under his wing. How weak and fragile she’d been. How vulnerable and innocent.

  Despite everything, he was proud of her.

  It was far from what he could say about Michael. How could a man stoop so low as to want to be submissive to this extent? He was disgusted that Michael should harbor such feelings about him, that he wanted him.

  Was it his face that came to Michael’s mind as Serena fucked him from behind? Did he imagine his hands over his dick as she pumped him to such excruciating hardness?

  For Serena to play submissive was one thing; Price had trained her, conditioned her, forced her… she’d become submissive against her will. It had always been this force of will that had thrilled him so. To know she wanted to be free, but couldn’t.

  Michael, on the other hand, sought submission. That he should willingly submit himself to such treatment took away all the fun.

  “How weak can you be, Brooks?” he spat.

  He grabbed the folded note and read it again. As sick as it made him, somehow he was intrigued by it for it was the fourth time he read it, and despite his disgust with the young man’s fantasy, every time he read it, his cock seemed undoubtedly interested in the words Michael had so carefully laid out.

  Admittedly, the biggest turn on was the role Serena had played in Michael’s twisted fantasy. He never would have thought she had it in her.

  But now that he knew what she was truly capable of, he found her even more irresistible than ever.

  “I may have lost you this round, Serena,” he muttered into the silence of his penthouse. “But one day, I’ll come calling, and when that day comes, you’ll come running back to me. I know you will.”

  All his training had not been in vain.

  She had become a master… and now even more of use to him.

  Epilogue

  Laura

  I shouldn’t have told Serena about Aspen. I shouldn’t have helped her get there. But she was already in too deep, and she needed a way out, and it was my obligation to help her. After all, if I hadn’t encouraged her to seek Professor Sorensen as an adviser, she wouldn’t have met him…she wouldn’t have gotten back into that sordid world Price Turnsby was the center of…a world he carefully constructed amongst the biggest pleasure seekers…a world where Serena had unwittingly become ensnarled in without a way to escape. Not that Sebastian Sorensen was bad for her. On the contrary, but who knew Price hated him with a vengeance.

  I didn’t expect there would be two dead bodies involved.

  My father knew I had plans to go to Aspen.

  Ally and the flight crew thought it was me who went to visit The Brooks’ house in Aspen. Everyone thought I had gone to Aspen. Everyone except Serena.

  Now Michael Brooks is dead. Why was he at Aspen?

  Kaiser Sorensen is dead too.

  I don’t know if I am sad about that at all. He worked with my father, and sometimes, he could be a real dick.

  But not enough to kill him over.

  But Michael was a different story. He was the most decent of them all…in that sordid group of billionaire playboys of all ages that got together for retreats.

  Serena, Serena, Serena…what have you gotten yourself into? What have you gotten me into?

  Somehow someone aside from Serena knew I wasn’t in Aspen. Someone knew Serena was with Michael and not me in Aspen.

  I stared at my phone and the text that came through:

  Laura, how was your trip to Aspen? Relaxing, I bet. I know about you and Michael. This time, it went too far…but we know how it is in the throes of passion…sometimes you don’t know when to stop. Now I know it really wasn’t you who gave Michael his ultimate fantasy. You’re not capable of it. Only a master could, which we know you are not. Be prepare Laura, Michael was well-known and graced many social magazines. The police will issue a public statement about his death in the next 48 hours. Soon the world will find out that beautiful, upright Michael Brooks, died while having kinky sex in the hands of soon-to-be lawyer and unblemished Laura Turner. If you want to clear yourself, to the top of the Crystal Towers in Los Angeles. – P

  I knew about Michael’s tendencies. I knew he could go far…

  I know, because I was his first lover.

  *****

  This concludes The Protégé, but the series will continue with a serial, about Laura Turner in:

  Barely Legal

  Spring 2014

  For Laura Turner, helping others had been her way of coping and forgetting a past so painful, she had to hide it from the ones she loved or risk going insane. Helping her best friend Serena Singleton start a new life free from a dark past, made her feel she was helping herself move forward.

  Laura, whose family ran in the same circle as billionaire composer Sebastian Sorensen and lived a life many would envy, had secrets of her own, and it had been years since she’d lived free of the same addiction that consumed her friend Serena.

  When Laura moved to Los Angeles to work at a law firm who hired her to start even without her passing the bar, she meets the mysterious and sexy Peter Townshend, whose irresistible charm and take charge personality brings out a part of her she had hidden for years. Hidden behind a wall of secrets and giving her his orders, she only has his seductive voice to guide her to do his bidding. He knows all her buttons. He knows all about her.

  He knows she’s been a bad girl.

  It was no accident she and Serena became best friends. Even good girls fall once in a while. Even good girls have addictions that make them do bad things. Very bad things…

  Things that are barely legal…

  Barely Legal is a new serial that will feature Laura, Peter Townshend, a cast of new characters, and

  Serena, Sebastian, and Price.

  DON’T MISS IT!

  To ensure you don’t miss Kailin Gow’s next book, text ROCKINGBOOKS at 41411 and you will get an email reminder on the day of the release.

  WANT MORE? LET US KNOW. KAILIN GOW’S BOOKS ARE FAN DRIVEN. JOIN THE DISCUSSION AT:

  FACEBOOK (http://www.facebook.com/OfficialKailinGow)

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  If you know someone who is experiencing abuse and need to or are seeking help, let them know they are not alone, and that there are places they can turn to:

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  Devour Me

  MASTER CHEFS SERIES ™

  BOOK 1

  kailin gow

  Prologue

  Taryn Cummings bit her lower lip as an excited thrill shot through her. Her taxi pulled up in front of the apartment building she`d be calling home for the next little while… if all went well.

  Just around the corner was the International Institute of Culinary Arts, and her future, her dream of joining the ranks of top chefs.

  “Taryn? Are you still there?”

  “Oh, Mom,” Taryn shouted gleefully into her phone as she pulled a few Euros from her wallet. “Yes! Yes!
Oui! Oui! I’m just now arriving at my apartment. I’m so excited, Mom. Paris, can you believe it? This is more than I ever dreamed of.”

  “I know,” Samantha said. “And I’m happy for you, honey.”

  Taryn heard the strain in her mother’s voice. While she knew her mother was indeed happy for her, she also knew she desperately needed a helping hand back home.

  “Mom, I won’t let you down. When I`m through here, I’m going to come home a great chef and you’ll see what I’ll do with our little East Side restaurant. I’ll turn it into the greatest place in all of New York City. Errol King is the best chef in the world and I hear he’s a pretty good teacher, too. I’m going to soak up all the knowledge he has to offer. ”

  Samantha chuckled. “Yes, I’ve heard he is quite the teacher.”

  “Mom, just because the guy is young and good looking doesn’t mean he can’t be a good teacher.”

  “No, but it does mean a lot of young and impressionable young female students are going to have a hard time concentrating on cooking… a meal, that is.”

  Taryn grinned. Chef King was certainly charming. He’d even taken to showing off his charms in a recent print add wearing only his very brief briefs. Fanning her face, Taryn tried to put the heated image aside. “I’ve seen cute guys before, Mom. I’m here to work and nothing else.”

  Samantha let out a warm laugh. “That’s funny. I could have sworn I saw a few magazines that talked about the young chef; a lot of interesting photos, too.”

  The sexually charged photos came back to Taryn’s mind. “There were some very interesting articles with those photos, Mom.”

  “Hmm, yes, I’m sure there was. Look, don’t worry about the restaurant for now, sweetie. I’ll do just fine. You have fun in Paris and call me once you’re settled in.”

  “Oui, oui!” Taryn paid the fare, grabbed her coffee and stepped out of the taxi. “I’ll call you tonight.”

  She slipped her phone into her purse as the taxi driver pulled her bags out of the trunk and set them on the curb. He nodded and mumbled as he made his way back into his cab.

  “Thank you,” Taryn called out. “Merci!”

  As she turned to negotiate getting her bags up into her new apartment, a rambunctious chocolate Lab came around the corner and slammed into her. With her warm and sweet coffee splattered across the front of her dress, she looked at the dog with affectionate reproach. “And where are you going at such a speed?”

  The big dog sat and looked woefully at her, his big, dark eyes begging her forgiveness.

  “Ah, mon Dieu. Javier, mais que fait tu la?” An older man came up to Taryn, an empty dog collar hanging from the end of a short leash. “Milles pardons, Mademoiselle.”

  “I’m sure he didn’t mean any harm, sir.” Though she understood little French, it was easy to see he was dismayed by his dog’s behavior.

  “Mais, il à tout renverser votre café.” He quickly slipped the collar around the dog’s neck then took Taryn by the elbow. “S’il vous plait. Laissez-moi-vous acheter un bon café chaud.”

  Taryn politely disengaged herself, but the man persisted. He took her by the arm, chattering all the way as he led her to a nearby café.

  “Le moindres que je peut faire c’est de remplacer votre café.”

  Frustrated by her inability to understand him and confused by his actions, she struggled to free herself. “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t really understand French very well, but I’m fine. And my bags… my luggage is there on the…”

  The gray haired man relented and released her arm, but put his hand to the small of her back and gently pushed her toward the coffee shop. “Vous aller voir. Ici c’est le meilleur café du quartier.” The man pointed to the waiter.

  “Really, sir, I have to get my things into my apartment and I have to register at the Institute. Please… What do you want from me?”

  “He just wants to buy you a cup of coffee.” The deep, velvety voice held a hint of humor.

  Taryn turned to face the source and instantly blushed as she faced the young man who smiled at her so many times in all those magazines. In person, he was even more impressive; tall, strong and imposing.

  He glanced down at her soiled dress. “I imagine he feels bad for his dog’s faux pas.”

  “Oh.” Taryn could think of nothing else to say. As the blush that heated her face intensified, she hoped he’d simply think she was embarrassed by the situation and not flushed by his horribly, terribly, debilitatingly excruciating proximity. He stood so close to her, she could smell him.

  Damn, she thought. He even smells good; like a man who worked hard, but took meticulous care of himself. His sultry smile exposed perfectly aligned teeth that gleamed. His dark hair fell in thick curls to his shoulders and it wasn’t hard to understand how he’d landed the brief brief’s ad campaign. Dark, sexy and talented… perhaps even a spark of danger in his eyes; tempting danger.

  Without realizing it, she’d leaned in closer to him and when her knees buckled slightly, he quickly took a hold of her arm and held her steady.

  “You okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.” She got control of her emotions and straightened up. “I’m sorry. I should have studied a little more French, but…”

  Errol looked at the older man. “Ca va aller, Monsieur. Merci.”

  “Il n’y a pas de quoi.” The gentleman nodded at Taryn and turned to speak to a waiter, while holding his dog close to his hip.

  “American, I take it.” Errol looked pointedly at Taryn.

  “Maybe.” Taken aback by his question, she looked at him with a slightly defensive scowl. “What of it?”

  “Nothing,” he said with a chuckle. “I heard you mention you’d be a student at the Institute. It’s been a while since an American has studied there. Most students are from Europe, some from Asia a few from Africa and the Middle East. We barely get a handful of Americans, and they’re mostly men.”

  “Oh.” For a moment she wondered if her American status was an asset or a bad disappointment.

  “Having an American woman at the Institute is a delightful surprise.” Heat smoldered in his gaze as he took her in. “I’m Errol, Errol King.” He shook her hand. “I’ll be teaching a class this semester.”

  “Really?” Taryn said, sounding more surprised than she ought to.

  The older man returned with a steaming cup of coffee. “Voila.”

  “Oh, no. You don’t have to…”

  “You should take that” Errol whispered.

  Taryn glanced at the man then back at Errol who nodded.

  “This is Dr. Philippe Emanuelle, Head Administrator at the Institute.” He turned to the man. “Dr. Philippe, this is a new American student at the Institute, a Mademoiselle…”

  “Taryn, Taryn Cummings.” She extended her hand to greet the prominent Frenchman. “I’m so pleased to meet you, Doctor.” In the far reaches of her mind, a few French words came to her. “Heureuse de vous connaitre, Docteur.”

  “I think he wants to make sure you have your dose of caffeine before you get to the Institute.”

  “Oh.” She accepted the cup of coffee. “Thank you. Merci.”

  “After all, the Institute is the toughest culinary school in the world. We churn out the best… we’re that good, but we do want to make sure everyone is well prepared to succeed… so, if caffeine is what you need, well, caffeine is what you’ll get.”

  “I appreciate it, but it’s not that dire a need.” She held the cup up to show the man her appreciation and gently patted the dog on the head.

  “Dr. Emmanuelle is very fond of taking Javier for a walk on his break. Every Friday he brings him to school then takes him to the park at the end of the day.”

  “I can understand why. On the taxi ride over I saw a beautiful park, and it’s such a lovely day.”

  “A tout a l’heure.” Dr. Emmanuelle nodded and led his dog out of the café.

  Errol stepped closer to Taryn, his blue-eyed gaze intense and heated. “I
suggest you take advantage of this lovely day while you can. Classes can be very challenging and demanding.”

  “You make it sound so hard. I love to cook and I’m sure I won’t have any trouble keeping up.”

  “A passion for culinary arts is admirable and much needed, but you need more; determination, perseverance… stamina. This isn’t fun and games. It’s serious.”

  “I fully expect it to be… and I’m very serious about it. I want to come out of this a top chef.

  “Good.” He licked his lips while his gaze dipped down to the coffee stain of the front of her dress and down to her exposed legs.

  The heat was suddenly more than she could handle and she stepped out into the fresh air. The moment she turned around to face him again, the heated intensity of his gaze sent a wave of arousal over every inch of her body. Her clothes seemed inadequate and she felt nude and exposed before him.

  She knew the fabric of her bra was thin, as was the cotton of her dress. In addition to that, the thin cotton of her dress was plastered to the thin fabric of her bra with brown coffee. She didn’t even dare to look down at the picture she presented him.

  Could he see through all that thin fabric and see how aroused she was? Could he see the glow of perspiration on her skin, the sensual flush of her cheeks or the pulpy flesh of her lips?

  “You know, you have the kind of passion I like seeing in my students.” His gaze trailed over her body again. “I’m sure you’ll do fine.” He lightly touched his fingertips to her shoulder and leaned in closer.