Romance in the Limelight:   Tempting Sophie

Zoë Mullins has just released her newest novel, Tempting Sophie. It is a very steamy contemporary romance in which the love life of the heroine, Sophie, has become rather tangled as she battles cancer. How will she sort things out between the two important men in her life?

Tempting Sophie in the limelight . . .

A blond woman wearing leather bondage cuffs and black nightie between two men, one blond, one dark-haired.

Tempting Sophie Blurb

Cancer. That’s all it takes for Sophie to shut the door on the most important part of her life. After three years as Ben’s submissive, she says her safe word and returns his collar. But fate won’t let her face the fight alone. David steps into her life as her best friend and submissive.

Sophie may know how to use a flogger, but she’s not a Domme. She’s a sub, too scared to give up control, and David knows it. Sophie still aches to submit and if David can’t give that to her, he’s brave enough to approach the one man who can help them both.

Benjamin. He’s never given up on his submissive, even when she pushed him away and began building a life without him. She’s not happy and he knows it, and this time he’s not going let her fear stand in his way. To tempt her back, Ben will partner with David to remind Sophie just what she’s been missing.

Tempting Sophie Excerpt

Sophie knew who was at the door before she checked the peephole. David had had trouble sleeping for as long as she’d known him. She glanced at the clock. Eleven-thirty. She was a night owl, never going to bed before midnight. She didn’t have to be at the office until ten tomorrow, but he had to be up in five and a half hours.

"Son of a bitch," she cursed as she quickly stripped out of her thermal-knit sweater and pulled back her hair in a high ponytail. Yoga pants and racerback bra was as sexy as she could pull off on such short notice. She grabbed a lipstick from her purse and, looking in the hall mirror, she added some peach color to her lips before opening the door.

"I’m sorry," he said, and she couldn’t miss the regret in his dark-green eyes. He was angry at himself. It wasn’t his fault. She’d shown him a great way to relax, to relieve the tension in his neck and shoulders so he could sleep. But it wasn’t something he could do alone. She took a deep breath and let it out on a long sigh. She had to strip away that regret. That shit didn’t belong to her.

She narrowed her eyes. "I don’t want to hear it." She dismissed him, walking away from her door. She knew he had no choice but to follow. Not if he was going to get what he needed. She heard him shut the door and his quiet footsteps behind her. For a big man, he was pretty stealthy, but as a cop, that was probably a job requirement.

Her penthouse was spacious but she liked to think she had made it cozy. The dark, natural-wood dining room table with its scarred and dented surfaces was one of the focal points of the living area, along with the art that hung above the living room sectional. An art piece David had created. When he wasn’t being Constable Chet Adams, David Ratchet Adams had a very soft and emotional side. She loved that about him.

Walking through the living room, she threw open the door to her office, and when needed, play room. In addition to the bright-orange chaise lounge and birch desk, was a highboy dresser where she kept her toys.

She pulled out a thick deerskin flogger. There were times when she might use a lighter flogger to build the sensation, but to give Chet the relief he needed to sleep, she didn’t want to waste time. She wasn’t trying to build his arousal. This was medicinal. The ache in his shoulders required relief with something heavy, with a good thud, and that wouldn’t take forever to get him to the point of release.

He’d come a long way since the first time she’d taken him to a club to see what her lifestyle was all about. He’d been aghast thinking of anyone asking to be beaten. Then he’d watched the victim in question slip into subspace, his body relax in his bonds, the stress etched on his face slip away, and he’d been hooked.

Chet craved it. To give up control under the rhythmic thud of her flogger. The flogger could shred his control just as easily as a cane or a crop, though she’d used both on him when they had time for longer scenes. Tonight was not a scene. This wasn’t about sex or release. It was the equivalent of a hot toddy before bed. It was therapy. She tried not to sigh as she tested the weight of the flogger against her thigh.

"You miss it?" Chet asked, leaning against the doorjamb. He still wore his dark jeans but he’d already unbuttoned his shirt. Something about his tussled golden-brown hair and that long past five o’clock shadow made her pussy clench. He was nearly ten years younger, but he’d been through so much. He’s an old soul, she thought, and something in her wanted to hold him to her.

"No." She shook her head even as her body screamed Hell yes. I want you to use that flogger on me even though you’ve never used one before.

"You can’t lie to me. I was with you through the worst. I get it."

She gritted her teeth. He was talking about her cancer, the helplessness and fear as the disease and then the cure ravaged her body. She never wanted to experience that sort of helplessness again. "Did I say you could speak, pet?" She got up in his face, her body close enough to feel his heat.

Chet shook his head, lowering his eyes as she’d taught him. But with her standing so close to him, it only served for him to look down into her eyes. She saw the muscle clench in his jaw, as if he wanted to say more.

"Then lose the shirt and get into position before I send you on your way."

She saw him smirk as she stepped back. He knew it was an empty threat. She would never not be there for him when he needed her. Even knowing that, he readily complied, pulling off the navy plaid shirt, and tight gray T-shirt he wore underneath.

Strong. Fit. Virile. And vulnerable. He shifted his feet restlessly and she knew he was about to get bratty, so she preempted it by tossing a pillow at him. "Assume the position."

He rolled his eyes. He was the worst sub ever, but she had only herself to blame. He wasn’t really a sub, regardless of his need for pain now and then, and his willingness to serve her. It meant a lot to her that he trusted her enough to share that, but not so surprising. She wasn’t really a Domme, despite her newly acquired need for control, yet somehow they made it work.

He knelt on the pillow, bracing his hands on either side of the door frame. She could see how tense his shoulders were. It had been a hard week for him, and she only knew what she’d learned on the gossip mill. He and the bitch queen, Constable Lisa Scott, had rescued four kids from crackhead parents. The baby, it was rumored, had been left for days in its own waste. Tears sprung to her eyes just thinking about it. She couldn’t imagine the scene he had walked into.

She let the flogger fall, concentrating on the tension in those beautiful shoulders. She could do that for him. A few strokes and she could see him visibly relax as she sank into a rhythm, and Constable Chet became her David.

"Everyone calls me Chet," he’d told her the first time they’d met after giving her his full name. She had laughed. "Sure thing, David."

"I’d rather you call me Chet," he’d told her.

"And I’d rather not have cancer," she had said flippantly, "but we don’t always get what we want."

He’d frowned, but hadn’t argued. It was only later, after they had gotten to know each other, that he’d told her only his wife had ever called him David. And that she’d lost her battle with the same cancer Sophie had. Sophie had no intention of losing anything.

She had thought it was cruel of Dr. Huebadi to pair her with him but he’d merely shook his head and said this wasn’t about her. "He needs to see someone beat it."

"What about what I need?" she’d asked him. Dr. Huebadi’s eyes warmed and she almost forgot what a sadist he could be. "You already know what you need."

She’d growled. Even her doctor had been pissed that she’d broken up with her Dom. Well fuck them both and fuck cancer too. She’d reluctantly let David into her life, though she’d fought it tooth and nail. She hadn’t wanted to share her battle with a stranger, but she had seen how broken David had been and it had hardened her resolve. She had been right not to drag Ben through this with her. It had been hard enough to let David see her at her weakest. At her most frightened. She would not have been able to ask that of Ben. She had been his sub, not his wife. Ben had no obligation to her.

She blinked back the tears in her eyes and cursed her nostalgic mood. "How you doing, pet?" she asked David, rubbing her hands over his shoulders. Since she was trapped behind him in the doorway as she flogged him, she’d put a mirror in the office that allowed her to see his face as they played. A trick Ben had taught her.

Sometimes David would watch her as she worked him over, other times, like tonight, he kept his eyes closed, losing himself to the sensation.

He opened his eyes and met hers in the mirror. "More."

She shook her head when he grinned at her. Why did he have to have such adorable dimples? She frowned at him and made a show of stretching out her striking arm. "Is that how you ask me for more?"

"Please, Ma’am, I need more."

"It’s not about your need though, is it?" she asked. "It’s about what I need."

"Yes, Ma’am."

"I will always give you want you need." She ran her hands over his short, cropped hair. She wished he didn’t have to keep it so short. "Do you trust that? Do you trust me?"

"I trust you," he told her quietly, and it nearly undid her. She wanted to kiss him. She’d had that urge more often lately. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and press herself against him. She wanted to feel his weight pushing her into the floor, and settling between her thighs. She wanted to feel those big hands of his trapping hers above her head as he pounded into her.

"Ma’am?" His voice startled her and she’d realized she’d been lost in thought again.

"Thank you, David." She pulled his head back against her stomach and the stubbly haircut caressed her belly. Need uncurled in her belly as she rubbed herself against his back. Therapy, she repeated to herself. This is his therapy. You can get yourself off later.

"Use your safe word if you need it."

You can order Tempting Sophie from any of the sites below:

Barnes & Noble

About the Author

Zoë is an Atlantic Canadian author of contemporary, historical and paranormal romance. After two decades of working in corporate communications, Zoë decided to refocus on the kind of writing she loved — steaming hot romances with strong, independent heroines. When not at her desk or with her laptop in the gazebo, you can find her at her spending time with her husband (of nearly 20 years) and their three K9 fur-babies. Zoë has had two books published over the last year — Winning Cait and the latest Tempting Sophie, as well as a novella A Risk Worth Taking.

Connect with Zoë online at:

Twitter:   @zoe_writer