Madge in the Middle

By Em Brown

When Madge gets caught masturbating in the bedroom of her host, what follows is beyond her wildest and hottest dreams...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Em Brown
• Release date: Oct 20, 2019

Em Brown

After accidentally flashing an audience with her knickers, Em Brown decided that writing was a safer activity. She enjoys writing romance, particularly erotic historicals. For more about her works, visit www.EroticHistoricals.com.

Book preview

EPISODE 1

It should be against the law for someone so drop dead gorgeous and so goddamn charming that he had every straight woman in the cast wanting to bear his child—it should be against the law for him to be gay, Margaret thought to herself as she sat on a table backstage and watched Brad Sheppard plant a kiss upon the bandage he had taped across her knee. She wished he hadn’t done that. Now she couldn’t trust herself to remember her lines. If she had been a teen instead of a sensible woman nearing thirty, she would never wash that knee again.

Brad helped her off the table but the feel of his firm and steady hands under her own only served to make her knees buckle as if she were the resident school geek who had just bumped into the all-American-quarterback-crowned-homecoming-king-dreamboat. Brad quickly caught her around the waist with his arm. Was she imagining things or did his touch almost feel like that of a lover’s? It felt protective, purposeful, and even indulgent. Suddenly she was consumed with a desire to melt against his masculine frame. His buttoned-down shirt no doubt hid a beautifully sculpted abdomen and nicely chiseled pecs. She was making a generalization based on the stereotype that most gay men worked out, that they knew when enough was enough so that they looked fit enough to be an underwear model but not so buffed out that they looked like they were on steroids or vying for the strongest man on earth title.

Thanks, she muttered meekly, glad it was poorly lit backstage so that he couldn’t see she was blushing redder than a tomato.

Get it together, Margaret Anne Bailey, she told herself. What was it about the way his light brown hair fell across those grayish-blue eyes fringed with thick lashes that made her heart stutter? The wry half-smile that was both shy and seductive. The way his face had lit up on seeing her for the first time, though she had subsequently found out that he had that effect with almost anyone – man or woman. He made people think they were  special.

I’m too old to be making goo-goo eyes at someone who’s completely and utterly unavailable. Repeat: completely and utterly unavailable. As in you can’t expect to buy a new Prada handbag with only two dollars. As in don’t expect