John Cupid has no use for love. Domination is his thing, carefree flings with willing submissive females who crawl in and out of his bed like clockwork. When he is roped into taking his law partner's little sister Steffy out for Valentine's Day, he couldn't be more annoyed. He expects a night of baby sitting, but Steffy is all grown up now and she knows what she wants--a chance to be tied down and ravished in the bed of the man she used to call Uncle John. John tries to resist, but the little beauty proves to be the perfect slave for him. Could it be he is about to be hit by one of his name sake's infamous arrows?
John Cupid hated Valentine's Day almost as much as he hated his name. As a child he'd been forced to endure endless teasing, and even now people kept at it, acting like he was supposed to be some kind of incarnation of the cherubic god of love.
John had no more use for it than he did for the holiday. Lust was the only thing one could quantify, and that was far too fickle to control. Being a lawyer, he knew enough to get everything in writing--including the sexual likes and dislikes of his partners.
His own interests tended towards bondage and domination. He was a sexual master and he liked his women pliant, obedient, and submissive. John gave the orders in bed and all his naughty, consenting girls got sore bottoms.
Hell, even the good girls got them.
There were no shortage of applicants, due to John's natural charm and good looks. He kept things light, no strings attached, no problems down the line. It was a good system and tonight he had a hot new prospect lined up: a perky PR executive he'd met at a club last week.
Unfortunately, there are situations one can't get out of in life, and when his partner at the small law firm they co-ran came to him practically begging him to take his little sister out for Valentine's Day, he could see his hot night with Marilee flying out the window.
"John," implored the wiry, lean-faced Carl Hayes. "How often do I ask for personal favors? Steffy is on her college break and my folks specifically asked me to keep her out of trouble, especially on Valentine's Day. God knows what a pretty, precocious girl like her could get into."
"Why don't you hire a baby sitter?" grumbled John, who was having a hard time seeing Steffy as anything other than the wise ass seventeen-year-old in pigtails and bright pink sneakers who spent her time listening to music that made a cat fight sound melodic.
Carl shook his head. "She's twenty-one now, John. I can't buy her off with ice cream and lip gloss. If you don't take care of her she'll go out clubbing. I'd do it myself, but you know I have to meet with that Japanese consortium."
John ran his hand through his thick, dark hair. It was half past four already. "Thanks for the advanced notice."
Carl's expression was pained. His brow pinched. "I can't help it, buddy, she just called me out of the blue."
John sighed. Carl never could stand up to women. "You owe me for this. You do."
"You name your terms." Carl brightened like a man reprieved. "You're the man, John."
"No," he quipped. "I'm the big fat sucker, born about a minute ago."
John speed dialed Marilee, his date for the night with the bad news. He had to leave a voice mail. Talk about low class. She'd never speak to him again.
"Aw, it won't be so bad. Trust me, guys will be jealous." Carl winked. "Steffy's all grown up these days."
"You mean all the pimple faced teenage boys will be jealous," said the thirty-one-year-old John. "Cretins with IQs lower than my golf scores."
"The way you play golf?" Carl grinned. "Einstein's IQ was lower."
"Go on, keep insulting me," John groused. "See if I don't change my mind about watching the brat."
"It's nice to see you, too, Uncle John," trilled a female voice from the door way.
John turned and was immediately stunned by a vision of feminine beauty, not at all the kid he remembered. "Steffy?"
He couldn't help but be dazzled by the picture: green eyes to bring a man to his knees, silky raven's wing tresses piled seductively on her head, the cute figure so perfectly accentuated in a short, sparkly silver skirt and a matching top, tight across her ample bosom and more than a little revealing of her flat, lightly tanned stomach.
There was a diamond in her belly button, a single piercing on a silver rod, tiny and made of cool steel. Her little pink ears were pierced by silver hoops. Her lips were painted a silvery pink, liquid and glossy; they made him thirst deep within.
"It's been a while, Uncle John." She gave him a hug. The warmth and energy of her was overpowering. This was a woman's body now, molded, instinctively seeking to fit with a male's.
John broke the connection short. Shit, he was getting a hard on.