Nasty Business (Print)

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276 pages | Trade Paperback | 6x9"
Date of publication: 04/17/2015
  • ISBN: 978-1-941984-78-9
  • Model: 77951 words

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Heat Rating: 5 Flames


All's fair in lust and business. "Ruthless" Ruby Maxwell Chen, the deceptively feminine CEO of a huge British business empire, may have met her match in wily, charismatic American entrepreneur Rick Martell. Both are used to winning; neither has any qualms about using sexual wiles to smooth their paths to success.

Ruby Maxwell Chen, lovely and ruthless CEO of a huge British business empire, is used to getting her way. When she encounters the strangely charismatic American entrepreneur Rick Martell, though, she wonders if she hasn't finally met her match.

From the trendy clubs of London to the Hollywood Hills, Ruby and Rick compete for ownership of a strategic factory in Malaysia. Neither has any qualms about using sexual wiles to smooth the path to success. Neither anticipates that their mutual attraction will turn into something far more intense and difficult to control.

As their struggle for dominance escalates, they draw their employees and associates into their outrageous power games. The stakes could scarcely be higher, as Ruby and Rick play for the ultimate prize: a night of total physical surrender.

CONTENT ADVISORY: This title is a re-titled, re-release story.


"Now don't get me wrong. Sometimes I'm not interested in reading anything other than sex, sex, sex. At other times, however, after a steady diet of bacon double cheeseburgers, I'd rather have a steak. [Nasty Business] by Lisabet Sarai is a steak; it's a substantive, tasteful meal of pornographic fun. The book is an erotic story in the true sense of the word; a bona fide plot with plausible, vibrant characters, and interwoven with lots of hot, graphic sex." - J.T. Benjamin, Divine Pleasures review


"There's plenty of raw sex, rough sex, kinky sex, revenge sex, even elegant sex, in Nasty Business. And there's plenty of power play. But to have all that and the rare moment of mystic ecstasy too--well, that does it for me. Whatever does it for you, chances are that you'll find it here, and some unexpected pleasures as well." - Sacchi Green, Erotica Revealed




Welcome to my office. My empire. On my leather throne, in my fitted silk suit, my raven hair captured in a slightly old-fashioned twist, I review petitions and grant or deny boons.

My supplicant sits on the edge of his chair a few yards from me, on the other side of the Danish modern desk. The desk is no more than an oval of teak on a pedestal; with the light from the window, he can see my shapely legs and my Italian heels, if he should look in that direction. He is focused on my face, though, trying to read the success of his pitch in my carefully impassive expression.

I have already made a decision about this deal, but it amuses me to allow him to continue. There is something pleading about his tone, but I also detect an undertone of seduction.

He is attractive in a boyish sort of way, this lion of British industry. He has sandy hair, precisely styled, a cleft chin, lovely thigh muscles that ripple under his impeccably tailored trousers as he shifts nervously. He works out; I imagine him glistening with sweat in his singlet and shorts. He is serious, disciplined, a bit driven. He carries his cell phone with him to the loo.

Now he is talking a bit too fast, expounding on the merits of his proposal. He licks his lips occasionally. They look soft and vulnerable. I long to bite them.

He knows who I am: Ruby Maxwell Chen, young CEO of the powerful Maxwell Companies. Perhaps he has even heard the nickname they give me in the bars where the execs and the wannabes gossip and network, or some of the stories behind the sobriquet, Ruthless Ruby. His mind knows these things, but he looks at me and he does not quite believe them.

I know what he sees: a pretty, diminutive Asian woman, calm and attentive, in becoming but conservative business attire. I know what he thinks: exquisite, gentle, pliant, submissive. Weak. Susceptible to his charm.

Yes, I am susceptible, but not in the way that he expects. I will invest in his new venture, not because of his blue eyes or his biceps, but because we will both make money. And my company will take a larger share than he has offered, and he will not be able to refuse, because he wants, he needs our participation.

Finally he finishes his spiel. His eyes search my face anxiously, seeking clues to my reaction. I smile slowly, realizing that I embody the stereotype of Asian inscrutability.

I am only half Chinese, of course. Mum was born and bred in Gloucestershire. She met my dad while she was in Malaysia on a botanical research trip, and fulfilled her reputation as rebellious and headstrong by marrying him. Though I was born in Kuala Lumpur, my life and education since then have been, at least on the surface, one hundred percent British. Tennis, dancing lessons, summer trips to Scarborough, degrees from Cambridge, and the London School of Economics. I am fluent in French, Italian, and German, but can just get along in Mandarin.

My father is--was--from an old family of Han merchants and traders. I have Malay blood, too. Dad's grandfather on his mother's side was a notorious pirate who terrorized ships in the straits of Malacca. I like to imagine that I am carrying on ancestral traditions as I maneuver and plunder my way through this cutthroat corporate world.

Dad built his financial empire here in the west: textiles, chemicals, energy, telecommunications, and now, high technology. Only in the last five years did he begin to expand out of Europe, to America and back into Asia. I was his apprentice, from the time I was in my teens. My business adversaries can testify that he taught me far more than finance and accounting.

My silence is making my unfortunate guest even more nervous.

I lean forward slightly. Under the desk, I part my legs and spread them wide. Mr. Dalton's eyes grow round and his mouth falls open at the sight of the black lace garters against my pale skin and the jet triangle of hair framed between them.

"Well, Mr. Dalton," I say finally, "I need time to consider the details of your proposal. However, I am confident that we can come to some understanding."

"Uh... I..." He is rendered incoherent with confusion, embarrassment, and, I can clearly see, lust. Delicately, I part my silky fur to expose the damp pink folds of my cunt. I have been planning this for the past ten minutes, and I am wet with anticipation.

"I believe that you have said enough, Mr. Dalton. I will give you my answer shortly. In the meantime, I would appreciate your removing your jacket, your trousers and whatever you have on underneath."

He wants to run, but my eyes hold him, my eyes and that moist, inviting chasm between my thighs. "Now," I say, allowing a hint of sternness into my voice.

He complies, as I expect. My eyes give him no respite as he awkwardly sheds his clothes. He wears tight electric blue briefs that highlight every detail of his straining cock. The showy underwear is a present from his girlfriend, perhaps; he is too caught up in his ambitions to have a wife.

A blush is spreading over his fair complexion, and he hesitates to remove the briefs, though they hide nothing. I tap my pen on the desktop, feigning impatience. In truth, I love the suspense, the gradual, reluctant submission, the slow exposure of vulnerable flesh.

Finally, he pushes the garment down to his ankles and steps out of them. He begins to loosen his necktie.

"Did I say anything about your tie?" He stops and stands there, uncertainty etched on his even features, his hands hanging awkwardly at his sides. He looks silly, half-undressed and half-formal, and he knows it.

He is even better built than I had imagined. His skin is bronzed, lightly furred with blond down. His thighs are lean, sculpted by corded muscle. And his prick is, quite simply, magnificent, hugely swollen and pointing toward the high ceiling of my office.

"Turn around," I tell him. His butt looks soft and white, contrasting with his tanned limbs, less muscular than I expect. My palms grow hot and my breathing is a bit ragged, despite my control. I could tan those buttocks well, if I chose.

With what I hope is maddening slowness, I push my chair back from the desk and rise to my feet. I am silent as I glide up behind him. The next thing he feels is my warm breath on his neck. "Don't move," I murmur in his ear. A small shudder shakes his frame, but otherwise he remains still. I'm pleased.

I tap my gold-plated pen against one butt cheek and then the other, the pen that I will use to sign the contract with him when I am finished playing. His flesh jiggles slightly. "You are not as tight as you should be, Mr. Dalton," I say. "Not enough squats and hamstring curls."

He swallows hard, but of course says nothing. What can he say, after all? He wants something from me, and he is beginning to understand what he will have to pay for it.


For more information, please visit the author's webpage.

Other books by Allison Cassatta- COVER ARTIST:

For more information, please visit the author's webpage.

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About Lisabet Sarai:
Fireborn Publishing Main Page

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance--more than fifty single author titles including eight full length novels, plus dozens of short stories in various collections, including the Lambda winner Where the Girls Are and the IPPIE Best Erotic Book of 2011, Carnal Machines. Her gay scifi erotic romance Quarantine won a Rainbow Awards 2012 Honorable Mention. She has also edited a number of acclaimed erotica anthologies. Currently she is responsible for the altruistic erotica series Coming Together Presents.

Lisabet has more degrees than anyone would ever need, from prestigious educational institutions who would no doubt be deeply embarrassed by her chosen genre. She has traveled widely and currently lives in Southeast Asia with her indulgent husband and two exceptional felines, where she pursues an alternative career that is completely unrelated to her creative writing.

For more information about Lisabet and her writing, visit her website ( or her blog Beyond Romance ( Join her Yahoo mailing list here: She also hangs out at Goodreads, ( because she loves the idea of a social network focusing on the love of reading. She's not on Facebook, because she doesn't trust it.

For more information, please visit the author's webpage.

Other books by Lisabet Sarai:

Other books by Allison Cassatta- COVER ARTIST, Kathy Kozakewich- EDITOR and Lisabet Sarai:

Current Reviews: 1

This book was added to our catalog on Wednesday 25 March, 2015.

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