Rebecca's Forgotten Journal + Bonuses and Extras Collection

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Rebecca's Forgotten Journal + Bonuses and Extras Collection Page 9

by Lisa Renee Jones


  The moment I walked into Sonoma’s Reid Winter Winery and Vineyard and made eye contact with Faith Winter for the first time was one of those moments. Provocative because I know at least one of her secrets, of which, I suspect she has many. Provocative because she believes I was a stranger to her when we met, but I am not. Provocative because I sought her out, with no intention of touching her. But now I have. Now I want her. Now I have to have her. But that changes nothing. It doesn’t change why I came for her.

  White Lies DUET Reading Order

  Provocative

  Shameless

  While this duet can be read on its own, it does include Nick “Tiger” Rogers, who is Mark Compton’s attorney in the Inside Out series, and there are multiple cameos from Chris and Sara (the Inside Out series) as well!

  Check out the White Lies duet series:

  https://lisareneejones.com/books/provocative/

  Sexy excerpt from Provocative (book one)

  “Seven,” I breathe out, and it’s done. He smacks my backside and then to my shock, his mouth is on it, kissing it, a strange tenderness to that act that I swear has me as breathless as the spanking. And then he is turning me to face him, cradling my body against his, his mouth coming down on mine, and it too is tender, a slide of tongue, but I can feel his passion, his need that he controls, as he has me.

  “Tell me you’re okay,” he demands.

  “I am,” I say, shocked that he’s asked, that I believe he cares.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes,” I promise, my hand on his face. “I liked it. I like it so much that it’s…”

  He is kissing me again then, and this kiss is different. This kiss is hungry, greedy even, and fierce. Addictive. Seductive. And it unlocks those things in me. I am kissing him back, and kissing him and kissing him. And he is touching me and I am touching him, hard, sinewy muscle beneath my palms. And I can’t get enough and that is what I feel from him. It’s not enough but we try to find that place where it is, where it will be. And some part of me knows that he’s given me what I want. There is nothing but this man, and yet, this experience is nothing as I expected. It’s good now.

  I am so lost in Nick that I barely remember him pulling me around to straddle him or how his pants got down. But they are, and his thick shaft is between us. I reach down and stroke it, and I revel in the low groan that slides from his lips. “I feel like I’ve needed this since before I ever fucking met you.” His hands go to my waist and he lifts me while I guide his cock to my sex, and press him inside me. He’s so hard, so big, stretching me, filling me, and it’s been so long, and I can barely catch my breath. I breathe out as I take all of him, and finally, we’ve reached the place where we are here, wherever here really is.

  But we don’t move. We’re staring at each other, and there is this magnetic pull between us that has nothing to do with sex. Or maybe it does. I just don’t know. But I feel this man inside and out. I feel him and see him as he does me and it’s not what I wanted, and yet, I am hypnotized by this moment, by him. A charge seems to spark suddenly between us, and we snap. He moves first, or maybe we move together, but he’s cupping my head, and my breast, and as our lips collide, I reach around him to the band at his hair and pull it free, sinking fingers in the long strands that surely must touch his shoulders. I tug on them, using them as an outlet for all the crazy sensations pulsing through my body.

  Nick deepens the kiss, and then we are moving, swaying, fucking. Slow. Fast. Slow again. Our mouths lingering a breath apart before we erupt into wildness again. And I don’t want this to end. I don’t want to go back to reality. I want to stay lost in this man. And I fight to make that happen, to stay right here with him, but the build of pleasure is fierce, the passion on his tongue, in his touch, consumes me, and I have been so on edge for so long. And when he pulls me hard against him, thrusting into me as he does, I am there, in that sweet place that tenses my body.

  The next moment, I’m tumbling over, my body spasming around him, my head buried in his shoulder. He wraps his arm around my waist, and thrusts again, a guttural sound sliding from his lips as he shudders beneath me. Time spirals and sways until we collapse into each other, and for long moments, neither of us move. We just lay there, breathing together, heavy, then slower and softer. And still we linger.

  ***

  Check out the White Lies duet series:

  https://lisareneejones.com/books/provocative/

  PART EIGHT

  The Dirty Rich Series

  Introduction, Reading Order and Sexy Scene

  Series Introduction

  DIRTY. RICH. AND UNDENIABLY SEXY. Each book in the Dirty Rich series is a standalone title featuring a couple that's ready to fight dirty for their love.

  About DIRTY RICH ONE NIGHT STAND (BOOK ONE)

  DIRTY, RICH ONE NIGHT STAND. That's all it was supposed to be. Her. Him. Pleasure. And then a fast goodbye. He's a stranger. And yet, he's not. She knows him even though he doesn’t know her.

  He's the powerful attorney, now world-renowned after coming off the trial of a century which was publicized across the country. And I'm one of the reporters that sat in his courtroom.

  I watched him, studied him, got to know him from afar which isn't hard since I know his exact brand of confidence, arrogance, and wealth.

  I know his type. I've dated his type. Which is why when I happen to come face to face with him, when sparks fly and heat simmers between us, I know what happens if I say "yes" to Reese Summer.

  I know he'll taste like sin and sex, even before he kisses me.

  I know he'll feel like pleasure and passion, even before he touches me.

  I know he'll demand more than I wants to give, and yet, because I dare to give myself to him, the result will be deliciously hot.

  I know that I will not leave his bed without being utterly, completely sated.

  And I know that I will leave the next morning anyway.

  And so, I do.

  And so, he follows.

  And as the chase begins my question becomes: Is Reese Summer THE one or is he really just a dirty, arrogant lie that should have stayed a one night stand?

  ABOUT DIRTY RICH CINDERELLA STORY (BOOK TWO)

  SEDUCED FOR A NIGHT. TAKEN FOREVER. With only nine months left at Stanford, and despite being top of her law school class, Lori Havens takes leave to care for her sick mother. That means she juggles three jobs, the best of which is researcher for novelist, and syndicated columnist of "Cat Does Crime," Cat Summer.

  One evening after finishing up her work at Cat's apartment building, Lori has an encounter with a sexy stranger, and does something out of character. She goes home with him. The night is perfect, he's perfect, wealthy, powerful and from out of town. Morning comes, and despite their connection, Lori leaves before he finds out she's far from the equal he believes her to be. She's not a charity case and she's not after his money. She will make her own. In other words, she leaves before her prince charming finds out she's no princess.

  Flash forward a few months, Lori’s mother is healing, and Cat's husband, Reese, has merged his firm with another and Lori lands an internship there, with school credit and scholarship money.. Everything is falling into place. That is until fate reveals a wicked twist of events and Lori walks into a conference room to find her new boss, Cole Brooks, one of the partners, is her one-night prince charming. One sizzling shared look across a boardroom, and it’s clear: this man is not done with her. It’s not long before Lori is informed that she’ll be working high profile cases with her one night prince charming which will require long nights and travel, starting immediately.

  ABOUT DIRTY RICH OBSESSION (BOOK THREE)

  A MAN OF CONTROL. A WOMAN WHO'S ABOUT TO TAKE IT. Reid Maxwell is one of the top corporate attorneys and one of the most eligible bachelors in New York City. He likes his wins big, his women beautiful and in bed, not out, and most importantly the deep burn of his past buried. Until one woman, a most un
expected woman, challenges him in ways that might just destroy the invincible Mr. Maxwell.

  Carrie West is captive to Reid Maxwell and a debt between their families she doesn't know exists. It should be so simple for Reid Maxwell. Claim the company that is now his. The problem: he's now obsessed with Carrie, the daughter of the man he's destined to destroy. Now who's captive to who?

  ABOUT DIRTY RICH BETRAYAL (BOOK FOUR)

  Grayson Bennett. He's a billionaire, a lawyer, the king of the world to some. A professed lifelong bachelor. A man who took his father's business and fortune and turned marginal success into an empire. Now someone is threatening that empire and he's going to burn them to the ground. But he'll need the help of one person. He'll need her.

  That woman is Mia Cavanaugh, criminal attorney, ex-lover, a woman who believes he betrayed her, a woman who could burn him to the ground, but she won't. Because she loves him. Because he loves her, and it's time that she sees the truth of the past.

  Now, he's handing her the key to his future. He's giving her the chance to burn him to the ground. He's letting her see the real man beneath the surface that not even she's seen in the past. She has to decide what to do with that man. Love him or destroy him.

  ABOUT DIRTY RICH CINDERELLA STORY: EVER AFTER (BOOK FIVE)

  Continuing where Dirty Rich Cinderella Story left off...Get ready for a steamy honeymoon, and a heart-stopping welcome home for Cole and Lori!

  The unexpected is about to happen and while Lori has faced the demons of her past, she and Cole will face those of his past now.

  Dirty Rich SERIES Reading Order

  Dirty Rich One Night Stand (Cat and Reese’s story)

  Dirty Rich Cinderella Story (Lori and Cole’s story)

  Dirty Rich Obsession (Reid and Carrie’s story)

  Dirty Rich Betrayal (Grayson and Mia’s story)

  Dirty Rich Cinderella Story: Ever After (Lori and Cole’s second story)

  Coming Soon in the series:

  Dirty Rich One Night Stand: Two Years Later (Cat and Reese’s second story)

  Dirty Rich TBD (Ashley’s story)

  Each book in the series is a standalone title about one couple unless it’s noted that it’s a couple’s second story.

  Check out the Dirty Rich series:

  https://dirtyrich.weebly.com/

  Sexy excerpt from Dirty Rich One Night Stand (book one)

  Reese’s fingers close around my panties and he rips them away, leaving me in only my thigh-highs and high heels. I gasp with the unexpected action, and then inhale with the anticipation of what comes next. Only it doesn’t happen. He doesn’t touch me. His hand returns to the pillar above my head, and he stares down at me with half-veiled eyes. Waiting on my reaction. Maybe he wants me to say, Please touch me. Maybe he wants to frustrate me into finally hitting him. I aspire to give him the calm that is unexpected.

  “You have on too many clothes,” I say, pushing off the pillar and reaching for the buttons on his shirt.

  He doesn’t stop me, but still, he doesn’t touch me, which leads me to more questions. I don’t know if this means he intends to allow me to have more control than I’d believed he would, or if this is all part of a power play—the latter, I assume. Whatever the case, I want him naked, and I’m already working button number two out of the hole. Once I finish with number three, intent on reaching for number four, he rewards my efforts by pulling the shirt over his head. He takes a step backward and tosses the shirt behind him, toward the couch, while I admire his broad, well-muscled chest. The dusting of dark hair I find there leading my eyes along a downward trail to my intended below-the-belt destination.

  I step toward Reese at the same moment he steps toward me, and he wins the battle of what comes next. Suddenly he’s turned me to face the pillar again, forcing me to catch myself with my palms against the concrete before me. And then he is at my feet, fingers wrapping my ankles, lips on my backside. Hands caress a path all the way to my hips, until one hand flattens on my belly and he stands up again, cradling my body with his. His lips are at my ear as he says, “After tonight,” he says, his hands cupping my ass, “I won’t be the stranger you claimed me to be anymore.” His hands curve around my hips, his palms coming back to explore my backside, tracking the curve in the most intimate of ways, trailing lower, down my thighs and back again, until he gives my backside a quick smack. My lips part in surprise, and I am panting. I arch forward, pressing into his hand that now cups my breast, fingers pinching my nipple, a bittersweet friction that is part relief and part tease.

  His palm flattens firmly onto my back, holding me in place, and oh God, the fingers of his other hand slide between my thighs, curving so that he cups my sex and strokes my clit at the same time.

  “That’s right, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his leg pressing between mine, inching them apart, his fingers teasing the sensitive, swollen flesh of my sex. “I wonder if you’d let a stranger make you this wet?” His hand on my back caresses over my ribs, and he moves to palm my other breast this time, flicking my nipple.

  “You are a stranger,” I murmur, but I’m not exactly sure if I say the words or think them. I’m lost in sensory overload, his teeth scraping my shoulder, lips pressing to my neck, his breath a warm tickle, and his fingers are doing such spectacular things between my legs and to my nipples that I might shatter any moment.

  His teeth that were on my shoulder are now nibbling my ear, and that tweak of sensation radiates through my sex, where I ache to feel him inside me. “Am I still a stranger, Cat?” he demands. “Or do I need to lick you to orgasm before I become a friend? Because I’m going to, you know. I’m going to lick you until you don’t even know what one and done means anymore.”

  I moan with his words, and I’m no longer leaning into the pillar. I’ve somehow arched against him, and he’s holding my weight, one hand cupping my breast, my hand over his hand. His other hand strokes my sex, and with the next flick of my clit, I gasp and then tremble into release, my body quaking with the impact.

  Reese doesn’t stop touching me, and he seems to instinctively know just what I need. He slows, softens, eases me into that moment when my legs might give out, but he’s holding me, anchoring me. I expect, even want him to just bend me over and fuck me then, but nothing with Reese is that one and done. He turns me, stroking my cheek, my hair, and then he is kissing me, a slow slide of tongue that is so damn sexy. I moan into his mouth. He responds with this low, guttural sound, deepening the kiss as he does. And just like that, we go from slow and sensual to hungry and intense.

  “I need to be inside you,” he growls near my ear.

  “Yes,” I say, “please.”

  He pulls back, and when he looks at me, I expect victory in his stare, but that’s not what I find. His expression is unreadable, those gorgeous blue eyes probing mine, searching for some unnamed something. Suddenly, the fingers of one of his hands curl around my neck and he pulls my mouth near his. I think he will speak. I can almost taste his words on my lips and I want to know them, to understand them the way he was just trying to understand me. But he never speaks them. He kisses me, and I kiss him.

  He reaches into his pocket and produces a condom, and for just a moment I consider tossing it away. I’m on the pill, and the delay that a condom gives is already too long, giving me time to feel how out there on a ledge I am with this man, how into this man I am. But he’s unzipping his pants, and being the logical, smart person I am, I also remind myself that condoms protect us from many things. Clinical isn’t emotional.

  I reach for his pants, but it’s like this man senses and shuts down the roadblock my mind throws between us, because he doesn’t put the condom on. He scoops me up into his arms and starts walking. In those moments, naked and cradled in his arms, I am again aware of how affected I am by this man, how vulnerable that makes me. He cuts between the couches to an oversize plush gray cloth chair and ottoman. It’s large enough that he goes down on it with me, behind
me, my body curled in front of his.

  He shifts behind me, and I can I hear the tearing of foil, that condom now in place, his pants disappearing. Once he’s naked, his cock thick between my legs, and his big, wonderful body curved around mine, that condom doesn’t feel so clinical. I don’t feel it at all. I feel his hand on my breast, his erection up and down in the wet heat of my aching sex. It’s torture. I need everything I don’t have right now.

  “Reese—”

  He thrusts into me, hard and deep, burying himself to the hilt and moaning with the impact. I moan with him and gasp when he shifts my hips, finding a deeper spot. There is no time to revel in the fullness of him inside me, the completeness my body needs. He thrusts again, and the movement radiates through me. I grab his hand where it holds my breast. I arch into him, against him, pressing toward the next pump of his hard body inside mine.

  In a remote part of my mind, I think of the absence of his mouth. I want to kiss him. I want him to want to kiss me. I know the irony of this. I want barriers. I don’t want to be vulnerable, but I want his mouth. I want all I can get of this man right now, and that is when he does that thing he does again, where he reads my mind. He pulls out of me and turns me around, his leg between mine, his hand under my hair around my neck. His mouth is a breath from mine as he presses back inside me. His cock thrusts inside me at the same moment his tongue strokes my tongue.

  With him touching me, kissing me, pressing inside me, the bloom of orgasm is swift. I want to hide from it. I want to stay here, in the middle of bliss. I want to die here, a happy woman, but he is pumping into me, hands on my body, driving me wild, and I am weak. I stiffen, frozen in the moment before I shatter, my body clenching the hard length of him and shooting darts of pure, white-hot bliss to every nerve ending I own.

 

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