Copyright © 2020 Kaylene Serafina
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
ISBN-13: 9781234567890
ISBN-10: 1477123456
Cover design by: Pierce Serafina
Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309
Printed in the United States of America
Dedication
Pierce, my partner in crime, my Dom and my husband, I love you with all my heart and all the other parts of my body too.
Thanks to Alexander Krivitskiy for being the absolute best photographer.
A HUGE thanks to Belle and Sirena for being wonderful editors and never letting me know they were anything but turned-on by what I write.
And, of course, to ALL my FANS who love to read about happily ever after stories in which my brains (or someone else's) are fucked out and, sometimes, up!
A Word To my fanS
I’d love to hear from you!
What did you like about my story?
Why do you like romantic erotica?
Who do you relate with the most in my story?
What would you like me to write about next (I’ve got a lot of experience to draw from)?
When do you read erotica – at work or home or in a closet in the dead of night?
And... anything else you want me to know – HINT: flattery might get you mentioned in an upcoming book.
Send me an email at:
Hot Like Coffee
Book 1
Mike & Traci's Erotic Adventures
Kaylene Serafina
The Beginning
Hot Like Coffee
Traci’s voice was sensual… like the buttery softness of daffodil petals landing on my skin – light, cool, refreshing and with just enough presence to scatter goose bumps along my flesh as she emptied her words of affection in my ears.
It was hard to believe she was mine and I was hers. The road to finding her had been arduous but it was definitely worth it. My story isn’t much different than almost anyone who has searched for a soulmate – with the sole exception that in the past sixteen years I’d made more money than almost anyone has a right to. I’d lost the first love of my life to cancer when we were both only 33 and, since then, I’d been mostly alone. Well, not exactly alone – I had thrown myself into my business life and allowed it to consume me. It, along with a number of distractions (rock climbing, marital arts, my two dogs, cooking, and learning more about Shibari bondage), had become my mistresses. But, eventually, I wanted to find a woman to make part of my life once more.
Anyone who has ever lost a partner can tell you that finding another is complicated and frustrating. It’s even more frustrating when you have money – especially lots and lots of money. When I was a teenager I’d dream of what it would be like to be a millionaire so I could attract the attention of supermodels and the like. Of course, that was when I had more pimples than experience. Experience had taught me at least three things that I wouldn’t have ever expected to be true: 1) Money really does not equal happiness. 2) Most women – maybe guys too – think that money does equal bliss. 3) Being certain that the partner you choose isn’t with you because of your money is more nerve wracking than losing millions of dollars in the stock market in a matter of minutes. At least with money all you’re losing is numbers on a piece of paper or a computer screen. When it comes to losing someone you care about you also lose part of your heart and soul.
But, 184 days ago (six months to the day), I met Traci and my life changed. Tonight was our anniversary and I was so excited to be here with her.
The song we had been dancing to as I held her in my arms had ended. My eyes were closed but I could sense the looks of others as I held onto my lady. I didn’t care. For the last three minutes she had been my world. Now, in the transition between songs, I hoped I was hers.
I felt her cheek begin to lift away from my face and I prepared myself for the distancing of our bodies that was inevitable. But it didn’t come. Instead, I felt the soft warmness of her cheek brush against my own and, without ever breaking contact, she kissed me.
Me!
The beautiful dream of a lady my arms were wrapped around kissed me… warmly, passionately, completely. Then, as if the band had never stopped, she swayed with me as they began playing once again.
I doubt she would remember the first time our eyes met. I could never forget.
March 4 wasn’t a particularly cold day so I’d gone for a walk just to clear my head. The past year or so was almost a blur because I had made the decision to walk away from the business world and take a few months for ‘me time.’ So, I packed up the apartment I hadn’t really lived in since Elle had died, purchased an airplane and sold everything except my stock and stock options in Infinity Band Radio™ (we – or rather ‘they’ – make high end Bluetooth® capable speakers and other electronics that are used by sports stadiums, luxury hotels and, at last count, a few million people around the world – almost all of which are relabeled by another company whose name I’m not allowed to reveal because of an NDA I signed).
