Naughty Girls Volume Two New Adult Box Set

By Lola Swain

Let Lauren, Lyric, Elizabeth and Kitten take you on a passionate ride through their uninhibited lives. Full of emotion and twists and turns, this box set contains four of Lola Swain’s best-selling books in one hot collection. Filled with steamy tension and fiery release, from heartache to happiness, Naughty Girls gives you a sexy view into the lives of these four adventurous heroines. So blow off some steam and experience the naughtiness...because nice is dull. This book is meant for mature readers. All characters are eighteen and over.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lola Swain
• Release date: Sep 30, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301124039

Lola Swain

Lola Swain is a best-selling author of erotica, erotic romance and mainstream fiction. Her works include the wildly popular Ties That Bind Chronicles, the To Protect And Service series, the Eight Maids A Milking Steampunk fairy tales and the Fifty Shades of Gay series. Lola Swain’s books appear digitally and in print on Amazon, Barnes and Noble,Apple and other retailers worldwide. If you would like to receive information on new releases, promotional codes for free or discounted books or to chat with Lola Swain, drop her a line at [e-mail] and sign up for her mailing list. You can also catch up with Lola Swain by visiting her blog at lolaswain.blogspot.com or on Twitter @LolaSwainAuthor. Viva La Kink! XOXO

Book preview

Naughty Girls Volume Two

By Lola Swain

Copyright 2013 Lola Swain and Pulp Friction Publishing, Inc.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. All characters are eighteen and over.

Naughty Girls Volume Two is the bundled edition of four best-selling books by Lola Swain featuring some of the sexiest ladies in fantasy, erotic romance and erotica. There’s something for everyone here and hopefully you’ll find a new something too. Check out the companion anthology: Naughty Boys Volume Two in release here at Smashwords. Enjoy! xoxo

To read Naughty Boys Volume One, click here for Smashwords.

To read Naughty Girls Volume One, click here for Smashwords.

Naughty Girls Volume Two includes the following titles:

The Pony Ranch from The Bad Girls’ Club series

Wicked Control from the Master Captive Chronicles

The Maiden’s First Man from A Wicked Steampunk Erotica Fairy Tale series

Surrender from the Ties That Bind Chronicles

Lola Swain is a best-selling author of erotica, erotic romance and mainstream fiction. Her works include the wildly popular Ties That Bind Chronicles, the Fifty Shades of Gay series and the To Protect And Service series. Lola Swain’s books appear digitally and in print on Amazon, Barnes and Noble and Apple and other retailers worldwide. To read additional books in Lola Swain’s catalog, click click here for Smashwords..

If you would like to receive information on new releases, promotional codes for free or discounted books or to chat with Lola Swain, drop her a line at [e-mail] and sign up for her mailing list. You can catch up with Lola Swain by visiting her website at lolaswain.com.

Table of Contents

The Pony Ranch

Wicked Control

The Maiden’s First Man

Surrender

The Pony Ranch

My name is Lauren Kelson and I’m having the most fucked up year of my life.

On April 1st, I turned thirty-five years old and was asked by my gynecologist if I wanted to freeze some eggs like brine shrimp since they were most likely on their way to spoiling.

On April 9th , my artist husband (read: perpetually unemployed) of five years sent me a text message informing me he was leaving me because he was in love with another woman, but I could keep the house and everything in it. This was of little consolation because the house was solely titled in my name because his credit score was negative when I bought the house and I bought everything in it.

On April 10th, a Detroit police officer came to my door and informed me that my bank won a default judgment of foreclosure against me and I had ten days to vacate my home. My husband insisted on handling the finances, as he did nothing else and it was my money, and had been banking the mortgage payments for an entire year and hiding the foreclosure notices. Yeah, I know, separate finances are always good.

On April 13th, I lost my job at the museum because I showed up to work drunk on April 12th and fell into a sculpture some young, obscure artist made out of shellacked Spaghetti-O’s and fake Incan pottery and it shattered.

On April 16th, the creditor that owns my student loan, froze my bank account and won a garnishment order against my wages for delinquencies. Actually, that didn’t really matter as the husband cleaned out our bank account and I had no more wages to garnish.

On April 20th after peeling myself off the wood floor that I no longer owned, but took a loan out to install, got a storage unit and had boxes and bags and bins full of my life hauled off for safe keeping.

And on April 21st, I sat in a dark bar with my cheery friend Brian while he looked through his iPad for jobs for me and I sucked down Vodka Gimlets like they were water.

I don’t know what to tell you, Lauren, Brian said as he scrolled through his iPad, Detroit ain’t exactly a hot-bed of job opportunities. You just stay with me kitty cat until you get on your feet.

I appreciate it, Bri, I said and rested my head on his shoulder. I just can’t believe this is happening.

Yeah, you definitely get the award for most fucked up fortnight.

There’s an award for that? How Shakespearean, I said and laughed. I can cry no more, Brian. I just need to find a job. I almost offered to fuck the utility guy the other day when he came to disconnect the water so I could take one more bath.

Well, at least he’s employed, Brian said and patted my head. What can a hot, single, woman with dependency issues do to make a lot of cash, quick?

Hooker. We both said at the same time.

Brian continued to laugh and scroll and it was at that moment, I made a drastic decision.

Brothels. Nevada. I yelled and gripped his arm.

Gads, has the Dementia set in already? Brian said and stared at me. What the fuck are you talking about?

Find some brothels, I said. I’m serious too, Brian. Don’t think, just do. And don’t you fucking dare judge me.

When have I ever judged anyone, Lauren? Brian said and typed some keywords into a search site on his iPad. "I like fucking hairy men called bears, for the love of jeebus."

I continued drinking and Brian searched for brothels.

Don’t think, just do had been my motto most of my life. In some cases, like giving up partying for college and landing an amazing job, it worked out well for me. In others, well in most cases, it led to me sitting in a bar at 1:00 in the afternoon and trying to find brothel employment.

"Ooh, look at this one, Lauren: the Pony Ranch. It’s the most sophisticated site of all of them. And there’s no squirting pussy videos going off all over the page. It’s the only place we’ve looked at that doesn’t appear to be operating out of a trailer. And they’re hiring. Let’s call."

Why not? I said as I lifted my head off the bar. How much worse could my life get?

I called the Pony Ranch and talked to a friendly Southern woman named Greer who identified herself as the Madame of the Ranch.

Madame. I romanticized the whole hooker idea and imagined the brothel as a swanky New Orleans club where famous jazz musicians and brooding writers hung out.

Can you send me some pictures, Lauren? Greer asked after we casually chatted for a few moments.

Yes, of course. Do you want nude pictures of me, Greer? I asked and pushed Brian who giggled at me.

Oh no, dear. Clothed pictures are preferred. We here at the Pony Ranch are a different kind of brothel, Lauren. You’ll make a lot more money than the others and you will be treated with the utmost respect. We are very sophisticated.

I like the sound of that, I said.

You sound very intelligent, Lauren. Can you tell me why you’ve decided you want to work at the Ranch? Greer asked.

I looked out the dirty window of the bar and tried to think what to say while neither giving Greer the impression that I was totally batshit crazy nor bursting into tears.

Well, let’s just say that I involved myself with the wrong man. That I made decisions from my heart rather than my head and it came back to bite me in the ass, I said and sighed.

Okay, dear. That happens to a lot of women. Even to me before I wised up. Don’t worry now, dear. If everything is good with your pictures and I have a feeling they will be, I will send you instructions for you to fly out.

That’s it? I said and sat up.

What else could there be? Greer asked.

Well, I thought there’d be an audition of sorts. Something, you know? I said.

"This is the audition, dear. Just email me your pictures and I will be in touch with you in the morning. We’ll make arrangements for you to fly out to Nevada and you’ll get to work."

Um, Greer? I don’t have any money for a plane ticket and I don’t have a lot of time to wait to get to work, I said and Brian punched me in the arm.

If everything is good with your pictures, we can wrap this up in a few days and fly you out here around Friday. As for money, you don’t need any, Lauren. The Ranch flies you out and flies you back home, okay?

Yes, okay. I’m just going to grab my laptop and I’ll send you my pictures straight away, I said.

Sounds lovely, dear. I’m looking forward to it. Good-bye," she said and hung up.

Wow, Brian said as I put my cell phone down on the bar, that’s it, huh?

Yep, that’s it. It won’t be so bad, will it? I said and leaned against Brian’s arm. I mean, who hasn’t done worse for free.

Kitten, see that guy over there, Brian said and pointed to a filthy man passed out at the end of the bar with long, ratty hair and a beard.

You mean dirty Father Time? Oh, please tell me that you didn’t.

I did. I told you I like hairy guys, Brian said and gestured for the bartender to come over. "Let’s get out of here so you can send the Madame your glamour shots."

Thank you, Brian. And please, can we not tell everyone about what I’m going to do? I need to talk to Barb.

She’s going to shit, my friend, just so you know, Brian said as he took my arm and we walked out of the bar. She’s not carefree and breezy like I am.

Barb was my best friend since third grade and my former roommate until I married the asshole. She was single and happy to be that way and kind and very sweet. I knew she was going to have a problem with what I was going to do, but I needed to tell her so she didn’t find out after Brian blabbed it all over Detroit.

Greer called me the next morning after she received my photos and said she wanted to hire me as soon as possible.

She was very impressed, I said to Brian as we slurped coffee out of giant mugs at his kitchen table.

Of course she was, Brian said. Lauren seriously, you are fucking beautiful. Don’t let the fact you married that shitbag and you allowed him to put you down for five years make you forget how gorgeous you are.

Thanks, Bri, I said and finished my coffee. Well, she’s flying me out on Friday so I need to get to the storage unit and get some stuff together and then go see Barb.

Barb will be fine. You will be fine. Remember, it’s your life and yours alone, Lauren, Brian said and gave me a hug.

"Now, I said and started to cry. Now it’s my life and mine alone."

No, kitten, Brian said and kissed me on the cheek, "it’s always been your life and yours alone."

I went over to Barb’s apartment, laptop in hand and prepared to tell her about my new career path.

Barb, I’ve been looking for a job, any job, where I can make quick money, since I got fired. I can’t find a thing, I said and set my laptop up on her coffee table.

"You have a degree for fuck's sake, Barb said. I just don't understand why no one will hire you. You're smart, you're beautiful and you look fucking awesome in a pencil skirt and patent-leather pumps."

"Barb, I have a degree in Russian Literature, I live in Detroit, I owe sixty-eight grand in student loans and I got fired from my last job. There are MBA's applying for entry-level at Starbucks. I don’t have parents to bankroll me, my husband wiped out our bank account and I’ve been foreclosed on. Plus, I’m homeless."

Seriously? You’re not homeless, you can stay with me, Barb said and gestured around her apartment.

"Where? You live in this studio with two roommates."

True, Barb said and sighed.

"Look, this isn’t The Valley of The Dolls where secretaries land jobs that put them in swanky apartments or you can work four or five jobs to pay off all your debt. Long term, perhaps. But I am in the fucking moment here. He took everything out of my bank account Barb...everything. The old rules don't work anymore. It's time to get creative."

Ooh, creative is good, Barb said. What are you thinking, your own business? A bakery? No, I’ve got it...soap-making. They do really good.

You forget, Home Ec. threatened to derail my perfect 4.0 grade point average. I need to get crafty, but I am not a crafter, Barb. You know this. And believe me, I'm a bit beyond setting up a fucking Etsy store and selling horrid jewelry made from Orzo or pimping Instagram photos and calling myself a photographer.

So, what then? What's the big, creative plan? Barb said and sat down next to