Show Me Something Good
Kit likes to watch. Nathaniel Saint likes to watch Kit…
Kit Howard loves everything about her job except for one: Nathaniel Saint. Her boss’s grumpy, grouchy twin brother and co-owner of the company is both a thorn in her side and fodder for her fantasies. She does her best to stay out of his way—having a crush on the boss is the reason why the previous executive assistant left, and while that worked out okay for her, Kathleen isn’t willing to risk her job for sex, no matter how good it might be.
Since sexy, sulky Nate isn’t an option, she’s forced to consider others. Thanks to a friend, she has an invitation to a “private” Halloween party held by the local BDSM club. While Kit has no interest in bondage, pain, or the power games of BDSM, she does have one kink—she likes to watch. And the glorious thing about the kink scene is that it’s often on glorious display. scene is one of the few places where voyeurs are welcomed along with everyone else.
Including, apparently, the grumpy, grouchy Nathaniel Saint. Because he just walked in the door, and he’s headed straight for her.
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If you’ve read Santa Daddy, book #1 in the Perfect Taboo series, you might recognize Nathaniel Saint. He’s the twin brother of Santa Daddy’s hero, Nick Saint, and the funny thing is, I thought of Nate’s story way before I ever knew there was a Nick.
Sometime last fall I was browsing through Twitter, killing time, and a tweet from one of the people I follow caught my eye. I started following this person strictly for their hockey content (I’m a big fan, and so is she), but she’s also witty and funny and extraordinarily kind, so I always perk up when I see her name on my timeline. She tweeted that she’d stopped for coffee, her first coffee since quarantine began last spring, and managed to spill her entire latte down the front of her new, white sweater. I winced, because I’ve been there, and thought absently that the only thing worse than spilling it on yourself would be to spill it on someone else. And the only thing worse than that would be if the someone else was a very cute guy. And worse still, if that very cute guy turned out to be someone you had to see every day at your new job.
And just like that, Kit and Nate’s meet cute was born. It took me a while to get around to writing it, and I didn’t think Nate was kinky (at least, not as kinky as his brother), but he turned out to be perfectly kinky for Kit.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Fine, thanks, and you?” Kit replied drily, and turned as though she meant to walk away.
“Oh, no you don’t,” he ground out, and reached out.
The second he touched her, she froze. She turned to him, eyes round with shock, and Nate realized with a start that this was the first time he’d ever touched her.
It was nothing, just his hand on her forearm. The sweater was coarse and scratchy, made of poor-quality wool or some cheap synthetic substitute. But it was thin enough that he could feel the heat of her skin through it.
“I beg your pardon?” she said before he could gather his wits, and the slight tremor in her otherwise icy tone jolted him out of the trance.
“I said, what are you doing here?” he repeated.
“I was invited,” she replied, and gave her arm a testing tug.
He wanted to hold on to her, to make it clear that she wasn’t going anywhere unless he allowed it. Huh. This Dom thing might have something going for it. But that was edging into very dangerous territory, so loosened his grip and allowed her to pull away.
She laid a hand protectively where his had just been. “I should be asking you that question.”
“I was invited, too,” he replied, and before he could think better of it, blurted out the question that had been on his mind ever since he’d seen her across the room. “You’re kinky?”
“Are you?” she shot back.
“I asked you first.”
“And I’m rubber and you’re glue,” she said, lowering her voice when someone brushed by them to reach the food. She stepped away from the table, and he followed. “This isn’t first grade, Nathaniel, and it’s none of your business if I’m kinky or not.”
“Yeah? Well, same goes.”
“You’re about to do a spanking scene,” she pointed out smugly. “I think that speaks for itself, don’t you?”
“That’s not—” He broke off and dragged a hand through his hair, clenching his jaw so hard that he was surprised all his teeth were intact. “It’s complicated.”
“Dammit. I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
“Same goes,” she shot back, tossing his own words in his face.
He wanted to grab her and shake her, but she was still holding her hand protectively over her forearm, as though it hurt.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, his heart in his throat.
“Did I hurt you?” he repeated. “You’re holding your arm.”
“It’s fine,” she told him, dropping her hand and folding her arms across her chest. “Go away.”
“No. Do you even know anybody here?” he demanded, shifting tactics. He only had a few minutes before Sadie came back, and he was damned if he’d leave it like this.
“I know Nick and Rebecca,” she began, but he cut her off with a slash of his hand.
“They’re not here, so they don’t count.”
She lifted her chin, those narrowed eyes spitting fire at him. “I know James, and Sadie.”
“Anyone you met before tonight?” he pressed, and felt a grim sort of triumph when she hesitated. “That’s what I thought.”
“So what?” she snapped. “Rebecca said I’d be safe here, and I trust her.”
He snorted at that, and her eyes narrowed.
“I’m perfectly safe,” she insisted. “Nobody’s even approached me.”
He knew he was on the verge of making a scene, but he couldn’t seem to stop. Nothing coming out of her mouth made any sense, and it was pissing him off. “How the hell is that possible?”
“Because,” she said, her cheeks flushing a dark pink, “James gave me this.”
He angled his head to read the stick-on name tag on her chest. “Anybody who wants to play with you has to clear it with James?”
Her chin went up again. “Yes.”
“What, so anyone who gets James to give them permission gets to do whatever they want to you, and you don’t get a say?”
“No, you—” She cut herself off with a muffled curse. “Of course I get a say.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, you jackass,” she hissed, clearly no longer concerned with keeping her curses muffled. “It’s just a way to make sure anyone I do decide to play with is, you know, a good person.”
That made sense, and mollified him somewhat. But it still didn’t make sense that no one had approached her. “You expect me to believe no one has approached you at all?”
She rolled her eyes so hard he was surprised she didn’t fall over. “No.”
“I don’t believe it,” he said flatly. “There’s no way nobody’s approached you, not with you looking like that.”
“Looking like what?” she ground out, her eyes narrowed to glittering blue and green slits.
“Like a cartoon wet dream.”
She blinked, her eyes going wide behind her glasses, and she looked down at herself. “I do?”
“Of course you do,” he snapped, impatient. “Pay attention, dammit. Did James tell everyone to stay away from you?”
Because that was the only thing that made sense. He didn’t know James well, but he knew that Nick considered him to be an ethical Dom, one who took his responsibilities to the community seriously. He also took his responsibilities as host seriously, and it made perfect sense that he would invoke a no-touch clause of sorts for someone green and new. He doubted anyone would violate that no-touch clause, not if they wanted to ever attend one of his parties again.
She was back to rolling her eyes at him. “No, of course not. At least, I don’t think so. But he might have told them—”
She cut herself off, her lips folded together as though to keep the words she’d been about to say trapped inside.
“Might have told them what?” he prompted when she pinched her lips tighter.
“It’s none of your business,” she mumbled.
“Kathleen, I swear to God…”
“I’m just here to watch,” she blurted out.
“I’m a voyeur, okay? I like to watch. That’s why I’m here.”
He opened his mouth to answer her—with what, he had no idea, because his mind had gone completely blank—when she stepped forward, the toes of her Mary Janes knocking into his boots, and jabbed her index finger in his face so hard he had to rear back to keep from having an eye poked out. “And if you give me any shit about it, I swear to God, Nate—”
He held up his hands, palms out. It occurred to him that to an observer, they probably looked like they were doing a bad ‘stick ’em up’ role play, but he was too busy trying not to lose an eye to her jabbing finger to find it amusing. “I won’t, I promise.”
“Because if I hear any rumors about me being at this party at work tomorrow—”
“I swear, I won’t say a thing,” he said, dodging another finger jab. “For God’s sake, Kit, I’m here too.”
“Ha.” Jab. “You’re the boss, and a man. We both know my reputation would suffer more than yours.”
“Probably.” Definitely. He wasn’t unaware of the double standard at play in situations like this. Men got praise for being sexually adventurous, and women got censured. He couldn’t blame her for being wary, and he struggled to think of a way to reassure her that his intentions were to protect her reputation, not impugn it. “I have a service kink.”
She stopped jabbing at him. “What?”
“I have a service kink,” he repeated, feeling ridiculous. “Kind of. Not really, I guess.”
“You have a kind of, not really you guess, service kink.”
He didn’t blame her for being confused. “I don’t really know what else to call it, okay? Maybe ‘kink chameleon’ is a good way to put it.”
That didn’t make her look any less confused, but at least she wasn’t poking her finger in his face anymore. “Look, it’s simple. Whatever turns my partner on, whatever it takes to get them there, well, that’s what I want to do.”
“So if your partner wants a spanking?”
“Then I want to spank.” He glanced around. No one was paying them much attention, but several people were within earshot, so he lowered his voice. “Even if it doesn’t do anything for me on its own, knowing my partner is getting off on it…”
“Gets you off, too,” she finished.
He nodded, relieved she understood. “Yeah.”
“Why’d you tell me this?”
“Because now you know my kink, and believe me, I don’t want that to become public knowledge around the office any more than you want everyone knowing you’re a voyeur.”
“So this is, what? Mutually assured destruction?”
He shrugged. “Something like that. I can’t do anything about how society views a woman’s sexual agency, but I can at least make sure you don’t feel like I have something to hold over your head.”
She blinked. “That’s surprisingly kind, Nathaniel.”
“You’re welcome, Kathleen,” he replied, and nearly smiled when she scowled. “Now, get out.”
“You heard me. You can’t be here.”
“Excuse me, but I have every right to be here.”
He leaned down, deliberately getting in her face. “You’re leaving if I have to carry you out of here myself.”
If he’d thought he could intimidate her into slipping meekly away, he’d been sorely mistaken. “You lay a finger on me, and I’ll scream ‘red’ so loud your ears will be ringing for a month.”
Not if I gag you, you won’t. He reached for her, but his vague plan to haul her up over his shoulder and lock her in a closet was interrupted by a voice at his shoulder asking, “Is there a problem, here?”
He turned to find James standing there, arms crossed over his dog catcher uniform. He had a stern expression on his face and a knowing, amused look in his eye. Nate didn’t know James well, but he knew that look meant trouble.
Show Me Something Good is a BDSM romance, so in it you’ll find the usual suspects: bondage, spanking, and intentional infliction of pain for sexual pleasure. This book also explores voyeurism kink, so the main character watches various sex/kinky acts without participating.
Specific CW with possible spoilers:
In addition to the above mentioned BDSM activities, there is also:
- brief and mild CBT (cock and ball torture)
- a fisting
Non-BDSM related content that may be triggering includes:
- illness of a parent (the MC’s partner’s mother has cancer, though is in remission), and breakup due to same (off the page)
- sudden job loss, and resulting financial stress