THE STRICT BRITISH BARRISTER: ACT ONE Read online

  THE STRICT BRITISH BARRISTER

  Act One

  by

  Maggie Carpenter

  ADULT ADVISORY

  This book is for adults only, and contains scenes of spanking, graphic sex, bondage, sensory deprivation, and are fantasies only, intended for adults. This book is not for children, nor does it condone corporal punishment of children. This book contains scenes of nonconsensual activities, BDSM and other nonconsensual activities. This book does not support nonconsensual spanking or any other nonconsensual activities, sexual or otherwise.

  Copyright © 2014 Maggie Carpenter

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  Published by

  Dark Secrets Press

  Ebook Cover Design

  Ashley@ Redbird Designs

  Formatting

  Polgarus Studio

  Visit the author at:

  www.maggiecarpenter.com

  www.MaggieCarpenter.com/blog

  www.facebook.com/MaggieCarpenterWriter

  www.twitter.com/magcarpenter2

  Video Book Trailers

  http://www.youtube.com/channel/UC34D1JhwfFecUe6-ebPbC-w

  CHAPTER ONE

  When Brittany Carter saw the tall, handsome, dark-haired man board the ship, her heart stopped. Her best friend had said she was sure to meet some hunky guy onboard, and though Brittany had been hopeful she had been skeptical.

  “You’ll find someone dreamy,” her friend Kathy had enthusiastically predicted. “I’m telling you, there are a ton of single men on those cruises.”

  “But you’re so much more bubbly than me,” Brittany had sighed. “Even if I did see someone dreamy I wouldn’t go bouncing up to him like you would.”

  “That’s why you’re going on this trip,” Kathy had said firmly, “so you can break out of your shell.”

  Staring down at the square-jawed, attractive man walking purposefully forward with a confident bearing, Brittany felt her pulse quicken.

  Huh, maybe Kathy was right, maybe I will meet someone. I sure would like to start by meeting him.

  Wearing khaki slacks and a spotless white shirt that couldn’t begin to hide his well-muscled arms, the man carried himself with a self assurance she found instantly compelling. She wasn’t sure why she found confident men so attractive, but as she continued to watch the dark-haired stranger walk up the gangplank she felt her butterflies begin to flutter.

  I don’t know who you are, but I’m going to find out. You were right, Kathy, I need to break out of my shell, and you, Mister, are in my sights.

  The cruise was all about doing something scandalous. Daring. Exciting. She was bored with her nice safe life in her nice safe town and wanted desperately to escape. She wanted to move to Los Angeles, or New York, or Chicago; somewhere thrilling, a place that had a pulse and promised adventure.

  But she had a problem.

  She simply couldn’t bring herself to take the leap of faith. It wasn’t money, she not only came from a wealthy family, she had inherited a tidy sum from her great aunt, which she’d invested in a business selling recycled designer clothes online. With a marketing savvy that surprised her, and some guidance from her doting father, she had built it into a very successful enterprise; her house was hers, free and clear, and she had plenty of dollars in the bank. No! Money wasn’t the issue!

  The only thing holding her back was her fear. She didn’t deal well with change. Change unsettled her, and as alluring as the call to the big city was, the thought of leaving her friends and family and leaping into the hustle and bustle was daunting.

  “I’m telling you, take that cruise,” Kathy had insisted. “It will help you break free from all your crazy insecurities. Throw caution to the wind and have a wild shipboard romance with a total stranger. Someone exotic, dangerous even.”

  After several sleepless nights Brittany decided her friend was right, but there were so many trips from which to choose it had taken her a while, finally deciding on five days at sea, traveling from Hawaii to Tahiti. She’d fly from Charleston to Honolulu, spend the night, then board the ship the following morning.

  That morning had finally arrived, and she’d been filled with excitement as she’d left the hotel, but staring at the gorgeous man as he neared the top of the gangplank, that excitement had moved into overdrive.

  Taking a deep breath she moved across to the steward who had originally greeted her. She was a first class passenger, and as she approached she silently prayed that Mr. Gorgeous Man was as well.

  “Duncan Rhys-Davies,” she heard him say as the steward studied his clipboard.

  Slowing her pace she took a deep breath; her butterflies had just burst into overdrive; Mr. Gorgeous Man had a distinctly British accent.

  Ohhhh, a Brit! He’s a Brit! Can it get any better?

  It was too good to be true. Brittany adored all things British, especially British men, though rarely did she have the opportunity to meet them. She was addicted to BBC America and never missed the independent British films whenever they appeared at the local cinema in her small town.

  “Mr. Rhys-Davies, welcome aboard, ah, Miss Carter, excellent, if you’re both ready I'll show you to your staterooms."

  Doing her best to act casually she fell into step behind the Steward and slightly in front of the yummy Duncan Rhys-Davies. Only the first class passengers received such royal treatment, and at that moment the extra money for the expensive ticket was worth every penny.

  As they entered the elevator she willed her heart to calm itself; she was standing next to him in the tiny space and the subtle scent of his masculine cologne was teasing her nostrils. The aroma was muted, it smelled expensive, and she could detect subdued hints of cedar and pine. Lifting her eyes she risked a sideways glance; he was looking right at her, a half-smile on his thick, luscious lips.

  Smile you fool, smile back at him.

  Her stomach did an unexpected somersault, and she was horrified when she felt the telltale heat begin to spread across her face. She’d only experienced a somersault once, when she was fifteen and the quarterback from the high-school football team had pulled her under the bleachers and kissed her, really kissed her, but that hadn’t been exactly a somersault, that had been more like a tumbleweed caught in a breeze.

  Duncan’s eyes were blue with astonishing brown flecks, and long dark lashes framed their inviting stare. Using immense concentration she was able to move her lips to return the smile, then dropping her eyes away she managed a covert glance at his left hand.

  No ring, no suntan mark either, and he’s traveling alone. This just gets better and better. Are you looking for some uncomplicated sex too, Mr. Duncan Rhys-Davies? Oh my gosh, is that what I’m doing? I guess it is. I can’t believe it! I don’t even know if I’m capable of uncomplicated sex…heck, for him I’ll make myself capable.

  She was jolted from her thoughts as the elevator came to a stop. His arm moved forward gesturing for her to exit ahead of him, and though she suspected her face was still red, she managed a smile for the second time.

  “Thank you,” she said softly, immediately thinking her voice sounded thin. Better than saying nothing at all. I’m so glad I bought new clothes for this trip, and I’m really glad I’
m wearing this dress.

  It was a white and lemon silk sun dress with a halter top, more provocative than her usual choice, but Kathy had told her it would be perfect.

  The cut flattered her figure, accentuating her narrow waist and full bust, and she'd left her auburn locks to fall in loose waves around her shoulders. The white sandals with their wedge heel gave her extra height, and though she’d always thought at 5'6" her height was ideal, he was tall, at least 6’2” she guessed, and she was grateful for the lift.

  The steward led them down a surprisingly wide, thickly carpeted, beautifully wood-paneled hallway, turned left, then stopped.

  “Mr. Rhys-Davies, this is your stateroom,” the steward announced as he slid a card key into the lock. “Your luggage will be arriving shortly, and if you’ll excuse me for just a moment I’ll show Miss Carter to hers.”

  “Yes, fine,” Duncan replied. “Nice to meet you, Miss Carter, I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.”

  “Yes, I’m sure,” she smiled, and you can take that to the bank.

  The steward moved past her, and she forced herself to pull her eyes from the back of the sexy Duncan Rhys-Davies as he moved into his cabin.

  “Just three doors down, Miss Carter,” the steward called over his shoulder, a subtle suggestion that she should catch up.

  “Yes, right, thank you,” she stammered, and moving quickly forward she stood beside him as he opened her door.

  “My name is Joe, and I’ll be one of three attendants taking care of your needs."

  “Thank you Joe, and please, call me Brittany,” she offered.

  “As you wish,” the steward replied formally, and began to show her around the suite, including a private deck that shielded her from the neighbors on either side.

  Well, darn. I won’t be able to talk to Mr. Rhys-Davies across the railing. I’ll have to wait until I run into him somewhere on the ship. Maybe he’ll knock on my door. I wonder if he heard that I’m just three doors down?

  After introducing her to the rest of the large cabin, Joe tipped his hat and headed back into the hallway. Letting out a deep breath Brittany kicked off her shoes and laid down on the bed, grinning happily.

  Duncan Rhys-Davies, this could actually be the cruise I was hoping for. Yikes! Can I do this?

  She recalled his panther-like walk and the sensuous twinkle in his blue eyes; he was all sex, he reeked of it. Closing her eyes she decided he would be the type of man who would want his women to be packaged in something salacious and sexy, made of satin or clingy, shimmering silk.

  Mmmm, would he want me in a garter belt and stockings, or maybe a corset?

  She’d often fantasized about such things, and had once bought a bustier on the internet, but when she’d greeted Roger, her on again-off again, he’d ripped it off her body so fast she’d thought it a complete waste of money.

  Her fingers found their way beneath her dress. Slipping her hand under the waistband of her lacy lemon panties she touched her fingers to her sex, and imagined Duncan Rhys-Davies standing over her, admiring the view laid out before him. She decided he’d instructed her to wear a scandalous corset, black with pink lacing, and cups that held her tits high and proud.

  Shuddering with the tantalizing imagery, her well-practiced fingers expertly circled her swollen sensitive button, sending sparks through her sex, and she could see the handsome Brit naked, his cock standing straight and erect, larger than life, already oozing drops of his need.

  Her vision took hold and she pictured herself on her hands and knees as he knelt behind her, the black satin panties that matched the corset being slowly, tantalizingly peeled across her ass and slithered down to rest around her stockinged thighs. He teased her cunt with his manhood, then taking her by the hips he glided forward with a delicious, slow, measured thrust that took her breath away.

  Furiously her fingers worked their magic and she felt the bubble making its way to the surface. As she dreamed of his strong insistent pumping, the bubble rocketed upwards. Crying out as the eruption sent shock waves through her body, the spasms caused her back to arch and her legs to tighten, then flopping limp she let out a happy, satisfied sigh

  Wishing she wasn't alone she pulled a pillow against her face imagining it was his shoulder, the memory of his purposeful stride and muscled arms holding her captive.

  I’m going to do this. For once in my life I’m going to take a leap of faith. Somehow I’m going to make this fantasy a reality.

  CHAPTER TWO

  That night and the following morning she watched and waited, but Duncan Rhys-Davies remained mysteriously absent, not even appearing in the restaurant or any of the lounges or bars the ship offered. Being a first class passenger afforded certain privileges, one of which was having meals served in one’s cabin, and though she couldn't imagine why he would choose to do so, it was clear Duncan was doing just that.

  Other men had approached her, but she had been consumed by thoughts of the intriguing British gent, wishing he was the one sitting next to her on the bar stool asking if he could buy her a drink. Patience was not one of Brittany’s qualities, and it had been frustrating beginning to the cruise.

  After indulging in a late morning buffet breakfast served on the deck, where he was again conspicuously absent, she returned to her cabin totally annoyed. Wandering into her bedroom she moved to the vanity area, picked up her hairbrush and began absently brushing her hair.

  Why is it so damn difficult to bump into him? Does he just want to spend the entire cruise hibernating? Hmm, I wonder how I can find out more about him?

  Shame you can’t have a poke around his stateroom!

  The scandalous idea popped unexpectedly into her head, startling her. While she loved the inner voice that served as a gentle prod when she found herself hesitating, it was often impish, pushing her to do mischievous things, almost like as if a wicked woman was living inside her and was bursting to break free. She attempted to push away the scandalous thought, but it refused to budge.

  I know what curiosity did to the cat. I wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing.

  Screw the cat. Just do it.

  Shaking herself, attempting to exorcise the outrageous suggestion, she changed into her bikini and walked out on to her private deck, stretching out on the deeply cushioned reclining lounge chair. The sun was mild, the sea twinkling, the cool ocean breeze tickling her skin; the only thing missing was the yummy man three doors down.

  "Who are you, Duncan Rhys-Davies?" she mumbled. "More to the point, where are you? What's the point in taking a cruise if you're just going to stay hidden in your stateroom day and night?"

  Unable to relax she moved to the railing and stared down at the foamy wake created by the immense ship as it powered through the water. Leaning slightly forward she turned her head and studied the neighboring decks. They had been designed for maximum privacy, and though she could peek around at the patio next to hers, the others remained hidden from view.

  "What I wouldn't give to be a fly on your wall," she muttered, staring at the edge of the railing that would have been his.

  You came on this cruise to do something daring, so why don't you? See if you can find a way to sneak into his cabin for five quick minutes.

  Stop, I’ll do no such thing.

  Once again, determinedly pushing the crazy notion out of her mind, she returned to her lounge chair.

  "If nothing else I'm going to get a tan," she muttered.

  Dropping back into the soft, enveloping foam pad she spread the sunblock across her skin, picked up one of several fashion magazines that had been waiting for her, and began to read.

  But it was impossible. Deciding she needed to do something physical, she changed into shorts and T-shirt and headed off to the ship’s jogging track. It ended up being a long run, longer than she’d intended, and though she passed a number of people, several of whom were very attractive men, Duncan Rhys-Davis wasn’t one of them.

  Still haunted by the handsome stranger s
he headed back to her cabin, and aching and tired from the extended jog she began to pace around the expansive stateroom, stretching her legs and loosening her limbs, irritated that she couldn’t get him out of her head.

  “This is ridiculous,” she shouted to the walls. “Dammit, how can I shake this guy? I can’t stand this.”

  Dropping into an armchair chair she absently picked up the folder outlining the ship’s activities and services, and her eyes fell upon the advertisement for the onboard Spa.

  “A massage! That’s exactly what I need,” she declared, and grabbing the phone she was delighted that she could be accommodated right away.

  Showering quickly, as she hurried to the elevator she felt a wave of relief, convinced the hypnotic effect of the kneading, practiced hands on her back would erase Duncan Rhys-Davies from her thoughts, at least for a short time.

  The smiling receptionist led her to a warm, small, dimly lit room, and as Brittany removed her clothes, covered herself with the thin sheet and placed her head into the cushioned headrest, she let the soothing ambient melody wash over her. Moments later a gentle tap on the door announced the arrival of the masseuse.

  "Hello, Miss Carter, my name's Martha. Are you ready for me?"

  "So ready," Brittany sighed.

  The calming aroma of lavender floated around her as the massage therapist began her work, traveling her expert fingers across Brittany's sore muscles.

  "You're so tense," she remarked. "this is a cruise, it's supposed to relax you."

  "I know, Brittany muttered. "Unfortunately that hasn’t been so easy."

  "That sounds like a man problem," Martha remarked.