Valentine knows when he’s found the right fit—whether it’s matching an executive to a job or finding a lover for himself—but he’s never had a first impression quite like Lucy before.
Commandeered by the intriguing stranger at a luxury London department store, Valentine’s more than happy to provide the masculine opinion Lucy demands. After all, watching her model fabulous cocktail dresses, saucy shoes and mouth-watering lingerie is his pleasure.
He soon realises that he wants more than just one seductive afternoon with the luscious Lucy. Getting under those new clothes will be a challenge since she’s gone back to New York, but he’s not the only one being driven mad by the heat of their long-distance flirtation. Now Valentine just needs to convince his little tease that the best part of trying things on is taking them off again.
“Taking it Off is one of the very few books I’ve read where the sexual tension is so bloody high just that alone is enough. It sizzles, it underlies every single thing Valentine and Lucy do, and you’ll find yourself racing towards the end to see if the promise of an excellent sex scene was worth the wait. My God is it.”
Golden Nib Award:Miz Love & Crew Love Books
“…I found Valentine such a sexy character…”
“It made me think of Sex and the City.“
“This is a quick sexy read with some unique elements that I can happily recommend.”
4 cherries: Whipped Cream Reviews
“…I felt as though I’d dipped into Harrods or Selfridges for a deliciously naughty bit of retail therapy.”
“…the end result is lip smackingly delicious.”
“Very enjoyable and a brilliant example of building sexual tension between a couple.”
4 teacups: Happily Ever After Reviews
“Taking it Off is a delicious read. It’s light and fun, but seriously sexy. I loved both major characters and thought the plot was fresh and interesting. If you’re looking for a sensual, teasing and sexy read, I can definitely recommend this one.”
Lucy Felthouse, Erotica for All
He saw it out of the corner of his eye, a small glimpse of something that shouldn’t be there on the arch of her left foot. Gone again in an instant—leather shifting, stockings sliding—but he leaned forward, needing more.
“Do you,” he asked, leaning, “have a tattoo?” He paused, savouring the very thought of it. “On your foot?”
“Do you like these?” she asked, ignoring him.
As a distraction it was effective. Confections clearly designed for private wear rather than public; the sky-high pumps, with their smooth black satin and their fat bows draping the heels, made his dick take notice. He cast a sideways glance at her while she studied them, her nails scratching lightly along the edges of one of the bows.
Yes, please. The shoes were purpose-built for sex.
Instead of following up on that thought, he played good boy and grabbed a fresh box for her, this one containing a pair of Louboutin pumps. “Nice,” he said appreciatively, because he couldn’t help but admire a classic even when battling an erection.
“Mmm, yes. I’m having those. But something else, too, for the dress.”
They found them eventually, the perfect fit. Pewter leather D’Orsay-style pumps, with a slight platform. The inside walls of the shoes fell away in a dramatic curve, revealing the elegant arches of her feet before a resurgence at a ruched leather bow of peep toe that gained his hearty approval. She posed for him, hands on hips, then to his great delight she strutted around the room, showing them off properly.
When he eventually pulled her feet into his lap to take the shoes off again, Lucy, with her surprising tattoo and that dirty laugh and her very adept deflection, went soft as he held her feet. He stroked his thumb in a slow circle over the very balls of her heels, then, experimentally, with slightly more pressure. Her foot pushed backward into his hands, looking for more contact, rewarding his efforts.
“You like this?” he murmured, the question a mere reflex because yeah, she was telling him with every squirm of her body that she liked it.
She showed no self-consciousness about rummaging through the boxes looking for leftover treats while he brought his other hand up to stroke her ankles. The stockings were delicate enough that it was nearly as good as touching her bare skin. But not quite as good. He could feel the heat of her radiating out from under the nylon and imagined what her skin would feel like if he were touching her petal-soft arches or the tougher calluses at the edges.
He glanced up and took in the sight of her leaning forward, her hoodie rising up at the sides to reveal the silky grey camisole she wore underneath it. He folded his palm over her Achilles tendon and squeezed lightly.
“I give very good foot massages,” he told her.
“I’m” She swallowed, and tried again. “I can feel that.”
“Cheers,” he said. “Good to be appreciated for my talents and not just my good looks.”
He got a breathy chuckle as reward.
“You’ll notice how well-behaved I’m being,” he said. “I could look at your tattoo. But I’m willing to wait for you to show it to me properly.”
Her eyes went half-mast and she gave a little moan when he kneaded his thumb into the soles of her feet. He obliged until her eyes closed completely, then he very deliberately slowed his movements until she mewled in protest.
“Everything’s rosy,” he told her, leaning in and dropping her foot down onto his thigh. “Except…I’ll be absolutely honest with you, Lucy, I’m drowning here. What’s it going to take to get the invitation?”
Her eyebrows swept up, and ah, there was his favourite smirk, creeping up at the edges of her lips and lighting up her entire face. “You’re waiting for one?”
“Just planning my day.”
She lifted her foot from him and slid it back into her shoe. He missed its weight almost immediately. She said, “I hope you don’t mind that I’ve been taking advantage of you.”
“It’s been shit, really,” he said, deadpan. “Stuck with a gorgeous bird who keeps taking her clothes off in front of me. Only problem is, she keeps putting them on again.”
No, he had no problem with her taking advantage. He did have a few ground rules, however, foremost among them being that he wanted to know what was in it for him when he managed to turn the tables.
She bit her lip. She was close enough that he could see the blood drain from the little indentation. He wanted rather desperately to taste but she licked it for him, her tongue giving a provocative sweep. Her voice went husky as she said, “Do you know that you touch your mouth when you’re thinking dirty thoughts about me?”
So this is how I’ll fall, he thought. He could think of nothing to say, so he stared at her for a long moment then turned away. His breath huffed out before he turned back, letting the laugh out. “Lingerie next, yeah? Fine. Kill me a little more with your frilly knickers.”
– from Taking It Off by Rachel Randall. All rights reserved.
(click image for full-size)
I loved creating Valentine and Lucy’s world, and couldn’t resist extending it a little further. Check out my inspirations for the story in this graphic art for Taking It Off (contains some general spoilers). Download the PDF.
I’ve written a free (spoiler free) mini-sequel to Taking It Off. It’s called Fly Baby and catches up with a risque and romantic Valentine and Lucy later in the year.
Here’s another way to enjoy Taking It Off—my musical recommendations to go with your read. Find the playlist on Spotify here.