Saskia Walker heats up the Summer.

For many years I’ve been a fan of Saskia Walker’s writing. Knowing her personally only makes me more of a fan because she’s got a sharp intellect and warm, and very naughty nature. *grin* Take a peek at this excerpt, and you’ll see exactly what I mean.
Willingly bound and seduced by two masters…

Two men have walked in to Monica Evans’ life, and it isn’t ever going to be the same. Owen Clifford and his lover, Alec Stroud, are investigating fraud at Monica’s place of work, a luxurious London hotel. From the moment they meet, the chemistry between the three of them is off the scale.
But Monica has a secret, and it isn’t anything to do with fraud. Like her sisters, Monica is a psychic. In Monica’s case the gift is psychometry—when she touches objects or people she can experience their sexual history. Can she ever truly share that with a lover, let alone two bisexual lovers? Something about Owen and Alec captures her though, literally. Willingly bound and seduced by two masters, Monica opens up to them, physically, emotionally, and psychically.
Owen and Alec have been looking for their third and they believe Monica might be the one to complete their lives. But Monica’s secret isn’t the only barrier these two have to break down in order to win their woman. Fraud, duplicity, and mysterious threats add to their complications. For Owen and Alec, the challenges are stacking up and the race is on.
Excerpt:
Owen had moved even closer, despite her warning. Alec, his assistant, looked amused. Monica attempted to shift away, but she was in such a state she managed to do the opposite and gave him an excuse to touch her hip when she brushed against him.
“Oh, what have we here?” His hand was against her jacket pocket and for one long moment Monica grappled with reality.
What was it? Then she remembered – the cuffs. The jewelled handcuffs. Her eyes closed. Shit.
He pulled them out of her pocket, slowly, and held them up for his cohort to see. Light glinted off them and flashed around the mirrored walls.
“They aren’t mine.” She pressed her lips together, denying the urge to snatch them back.
“Not yours? Aww, I’m disappointed.” His eyes flashed seductively. “I was hoping you’d give us a demo.”
The flame of sexual interest that had faltered when he’d quizzed her too intimately flickered quickly back into life, her pussy aching in response to his words.
“The item is lost property from one of the suites. I have to log it.” Her statement was almost vague, fascinated as she was by the way he looked holding the glamorous cuffs aloft, so powerful and so easily attuned to the suggestive object. “It’s part of my job.”
“But you kept them.” He gave her a thoroughly wicked smile, his glance moving from the cuffs to her and back again.
It made her heart pump. “Actually, I was on my way to secure them when I was summoned to meet you.”
He twisted them in his hand, looking at them with speculation. “I bet they made you curious.”
She shrugged, secretly thrilled by the way the conversation was going, unable to resist following. “Maybe.”
“Maybe? Don’t even attempt to deny it, I can tell.” He glanced over her again, top to toe. “I can read your body language.”His stare was both slow and deliberate. “And I’d put money on the fact you wanted to keep them.”
He couldn’t know that, she was sure of it. He was just guessing–taking a chance, had to be. But the very fact he was taking that chance fired through her, making a deep, intimate connection. He really was flirting with her, right in front of a man who she knew to be his sometimes lover, and it set her alight.
She shook her head, trying to do it with nonchalance. “I can’t keep them. But I can’t help admiring objects like that if they pass through my hands. Is that so wrong?”
“No, not at all.” He looked as if she had proven him right.
A shout came from above, and the lift jolted into action.
“Ah, the cavalry. What a pity.” He made the comment under his breath and with regret, tucking the cuffs back into her pocket, patting them in an almost fond and intimate manner. “You’ll have dinner with us tonight, and when you do you can tell us why it is you don’t like to be touched.”
“You really have no shame,”she murmured, deliciously shocked by his insistent attitude, despite the sure knowledge that she should resist the temptation of anyone getting that close to her secret.
What is wrong with me today? It was his fault.
His eyebrows lifted. “Personally I can’t think of a single reason why you wouldn’t want to be touched. You’re the sort of woman who should be put on a pedestal, and adored. Don’t you agree, Alec?”
Monica’s heart raced. He’d finally drawn in his cohort. She glanced at Alec. He was leaning back against the mirrored wall of the lift, smiling a Cheshire cat smile. The silent, watchful observer. The right hand man. His secret lover.
“Absolutely, ” he responded. “You should give it a try.”
“Give a try,” she repeated.
“Being put on a pedestal,” he clarified, and his gaze covered her, speculatively.
She remembered the image of the woman they had shared when she held his keys. Her clothing felt tight and restrictive, her legs weak under her. The doors of the lift slid open, and there was a maintenance man in a boiler suit standing outside expectantly.
It was with some effort that Monica peeled herself away from the wall and stepped out into the corridor. With them both close behind her, logic was hard to keep hold of. She paused and thanked the maintenance man, trying to get a hold of herself. Jesus, I don’t even know what floor we’re on.
“You’ll have dinner with us,” Owen repeated, and he was so close against her that she felt his breath against the side of her cheek. His hand hovered a hair’s breadth from her hip. It seemed to lure her with its heat, with its promise of pleasure.
Glancing back at him, she saw from his expression that it was an instruction, not an invitation. His eyes glinted with wicked humour, as well as essential male power. “Off the clock, okay?”
Off the clock? Monica didn’t know exactly what he meant by that, but she didn’t respond, because part of her loved that thrill – the thrill of not knowing. It was so rare, and so tempting…
Get to know Saskia better by visiting her website. http://www.saskiawalker.co.uk