After catching her childhood sweetheart cheating on her, Sophia Hamilton is hell-bent on stopping other women from getting played like she was.
And so the played becomes the player.
Fast forward two years and Sophia is now one of San Francisco’s most successful honey trappers. Getting paid to expose cheating men has become the norm but just when she thinks she has seen it all, she is offered a unique proposition which threatens to turn her entire world upside down.
Mason Hunter is a hotel tycoon, millionaire and cheater. Or is he?
Sophia has six weeks to find out.
She quickly discovers that Mason isn’t the only one keeping secrets and she becomes caught up in a tangled web of lust, lies and misplaced loyalties.
Lines are crossed. Rules are broken. The real Mason Hunter is about to be exposed.
The hunt is on.
In the beginning, I used to feel guilty when I seduced a married man.
I used to feel dirty when I kissed them.
I used to feel ashamed when their wives divorced them.
But now I feel nothing.
I am not to blame.
I am merely the catalyst.
I am the loaded gun.
I am the honey trap.
I focus on his wedding ring right before I close my eyes. His eager lips meet mine and I can almost taste his excitement. My mind goes into distraction mode as his tongue darts in and out of my mouth.
Tonight is what we call a half trap. This is where our clients are satisfied by photographs of their boyfriends or husbands kissing another woman. We wear a wire at all times so they also receive a recording of their partners planning to go home with us. Most women believe that planning to cheat is just as bad as actually cheating but some women need more. Some women refuse to believe that their man would actually go through with it. In other words, some women are stupid.
A full trap is where we take the men back to our place. Only, it’s not our place. It’s actually an apartment which the Honey Trap Agency (HTA) rents. Waiting inside are their scorned girlfriends or wives and sometimes the occasional lawyer. We also have an agency bodyguard on standby just in case things get heated but usually the men are too busy begging for forgiveness.
Our safety is a priority. If it’s a full trap then we always insist on ordering a cab. Our driver, who is actually another bodyguard, will be parked up around the corner. They take our call then wait for five minutes before picking us up, which is always from a public place. On the rare occasion that a man insists on driving or calling their own cab, we end the trap and only charge our client for a half trap. We make a lot of money but nowhere near enough to put ourselves in any real danger.
I finally pull away when his hands begin to work their way down my back. I open my eyes and watch him for a moment, looking for any signs of indecision or guilt but they don’t come. This guy’s willing to go all the way. He smirks. “Wanna come back to my place, darlin’?”
I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to take me home to talk about the weather but I ask anyway for the recording. “What have you got in mind?”
He leans closer. “Have you ever had a multiple orgasm?”
I stop myself from rolling my eyes. “No,” I reply, feigning innocence. Guys love the whole virginal act.
“Then I’ll be your first.”
Only in his dreams. If his wife doesn’t leave him after tonight then they deserve each other. I grin seductively. “Let me go and freshen up first. I’ll be back in a minute.” I wink at him before walking away, swaying my hips as I go.
As soon as I step inside the restroom, I reach into my purse and take out my mini bottle of mouthwash. I always use too much but I like how it burns the taste of them away. After successfully numbing my entire mouth, I remove my wire and place it inside my purse just as the door opens. One of the agency photographers walks in and checks that we’re alone before stopping in front of me. “Are you okay?”
I nod. “Did you get it?”
“Of course I got it.” She takes out her camera and scrolls through several photographs. The first few are close-ups of his face so he can be clearly identified. The rest are shots of us kissing.
I call my boss as we both exit out of the back. “It’s done.”