Sex, Lies and DVDs

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by Lynne Logan




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  The Wild Rose Press

  www.thewildrosepress.com

  Copyright ©2008 by Lynne Logan

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  Sex, Lies

  and DVDs

  by

  Lynne Logan

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Sex, Lies and DVDs

  COPYRIGHT ©

  2008 by Lynne Logan

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Angela Anderson

  The Wild Rose Press

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0706

  Visit us at www.thewilderroses.com

  Publishing History

  First Scarlet Edition, 2008

  Published in the United States of America

  Reviews

  “Burn Baby Burn is a sweet, sexy story about a woman burned by love and the man who wants to show her that not all love is as painful as what she’s experienced.”—Fallen Angels Reviews—4 Angels

  “…pick up Burn Baby Burn, you won’t be disappointed … “—Romance At Heart Magazine

  “Burn Baby Burn has combustible heat and powerful emotions, resulting in a story with a very gratifying conclusion. “—Ecataromance Sensual.

  Chapter One

  Ryan White tried not to stare. He really did. But he was a man, and she was so damn sexy. More importantly, she was in the process of taking off her clothes.

  From his desk in the living room, he watched one of three black and white monitors from the surveillance cameras hidden in Paige Knowles place. For two weeks now, he’d been staking out her house. The Bureau didn’t consider her the simple owner of a small, online video store. They suspected her of being involved in an internet piracy ring in Phoenix. From what Ryan had seen, he didn’t believe it.

  But he had to prove her innocence. He’d managed to get the cameras inside her home, but hadn’t yet had the time to search for any incriminating evidence. Soon, though, he’d figure out a way.

  He took a deep swallow from his beer, but the drink didn’t sooth the thirst and anticipation burning through his body.

  Eleven-thirty and right on schedule.

  In her master bedroom, Paige walked to her bed and unbuttoned her blouse with slow, sure movements, making him wonder how capable those same hands would be on his own body. No doubt, they’d be just as deft as they danced and stroked his flesh. He shifted in the office chair, unable to control the hunger pooling in his groin.

  She tossed back her dark hair with a jerk of her chin before shrugging out of the sleeves and dropping the shirt on her bed to reveal a black bra that cupped round, full breasts. Damn, they were a perfect size for his hands.

  Next, she pulled off her jeans. The denim slipped over her lush hips and settled to the ground around her ankles. She stepped from them on lean, incredibly long legs that looked strong enough to wrap around his hips and bind him to her.

  When she reached around to unhook her bra, Ryan swallowed with difficulty and swiveled his chair away from the desk and the screen. Conscious of her vulnerability, he looked away in a valiant effort to afford her some privacy. Each evening as she got ready for the night, he’d found himself drawn to the screen like some perverted voyeur. Every single time, he gave in to his sickness and savored every tantalizing glimpse of her naked body.

  Tonight Ryan lasted a full minute before he caved.

  He rolled his chair back around and stared at the monitor.

  Oh, shit.

  Ryan jerked up in his chair and set his beer on the desk with a loud thump.

  Naked. Every glorious inch.

  His breath hitched against his throat, and the hand on his beer tightened. He’d seen her without clothing before, but somehow familiarity didn’t deaden his desire. Rather it stoked his hunger, tightening his cock and heating his blood.

  He frowned. She’d changed the routine. Usually she disappeared into the adjoining bathroom, but not this time.

  She turned her back to the hidden camera then walked on bare feet to stop in front of her large dresser mirror. From this angle, Ryan managed to see every aspect of her body. His gaze swept past her shoulder-length hair, down along the indentation of her spine, over the gentle sweep of her hips to linger on the curve of her tight ass.

  Ryan’s breath quickened even more, and his cock lengthened and hardened. She was beautiful, slim but with just the right amount of added flesh to hold on to.

  Gaze shifting to the mirror and her reflection, he discovered she’d cupped and lifted her breasts. While kneading both, she used her thumbs to rub her nipples until they hardened into taut peaks.

  Ryan sucked in a lungful of air and leaned closer to the monitor, savoring the way her lips parted and her lids lowered. Her arousal swept through the screen to cloak him in a thick blanket of lust. He wanted to gently ease her hands from her breasts and caress their fullness with his own hands and discover if they were just as responsive to his touch. Then he wanted to latch onto her nipples with his mouth, suckling and lapping at their peaks until she buried her fingers in his hair and cried out his name.

  To hell with his beer. Completely entranced, he stared at the screen and pushed the bottle away. He wanted her to the exclusion of all else. He rubbed the back of his neck, while his erection throbbed painfully against the fly of his jeans. He fought the urge to pull out his cock and masturbate because he knew nothing would ease the ache like the feel of him encased in her hot pussy.

  Her hand slipped from one breast, glided over the flat plane of her stomach, across the thatch of pubic hair at the juncture of her thighs to disappear between her legs. Her moan of pleasure carried across the audio system.

  Oh, yes. That’s it. Come, baby. Let me see you come. Tension bit into his muscles as he waited, watched.

  Two shuddering breaths later, Paige dropped both hands from her body, never bringing herself to climax. Her harsh sigh, filled with longing and sadness traveled into the living room with him. The feeling lingered in the air, amplifying his own isolation and the loneliness he’d kept at bay since his wife’s death two years ago.

  Paige turned abruptly and vanished into the bathroom. Her sudden disappearance left him gaping at the monitor, and Ryan wanted to climb into the screen after her. Images of her in the other room pleasuring herself bombarded his mind, his body.

  He stared at her empty bedroom. Right now, he hated his job and this crazed fascination. He’d seen many a naked woman, but not one compared to the way Paige enthralled him or twisted his guts with such an overpowering need—something he’d thought long dead.

  He’d been married to a wonderful woman for seven years. He’d had a fantastic sex life with Christi, had loved her deeply, and her death had broken his heart.

  So why this all-consuming fascination? It didn’t make sense. Hell, he didn’t even know Paige, but somehow she’d slipped into his dreams with fantasies of sweaty bodies and sultry
sex and turned them into some sick obsession. It had taken all of two weeks of listening to her telephone conversations and following her movements outside her house to pull him into her world and completely captivate him with her every action. The sway of her hips, the sexy drawl of her voice, the way the sunlight glimmered off her mahogany hair.

  And those oh-so-short, cut-off shorts she wore while mowing the lawn. Shit. The way they hugged her ass and emphasized those long, coltish legs of hers, and how the sweat glistened off her taut skin to the point that her shirt grew damp and clung to those gorgeous breasts.

  He dragged in a breath and let it out in a loud whoosh to ease the sexual tension. It didn’t much help.

  Silence settled over both houses as he sat in his chair and waited. Ten, then twenty minutes ticked by without any movement. He yawned, slumped back in his chair and crossed his legs in front of him. Almost a half an hour later, the light in the bathroom shut off and she reappeared in an oversized T-shirt. She turned off her bedside lamp, thrusting the room in shadow. Still he managed to make out her form as she slipped under the covers of her bed.

  Slouching deeper, he yawned. His lids drooped and weariness draped over his body. He should get some sleep himself. It looked like she was down for the count. He hadn’t yet seen her get up during the night.

  He closed his eyes, his thoughts of the woman in the other room melding into a vivid, sexual dream.

  Ryan came to with a jolt. He hadn’t moved from his chair all night. Early morning sunlight speared through the living room window to slice against his eyes. He blinked and swiveled around in his chair and away from the sun’s rays.

  “Yes, I understand.”

  Paige’s voice came through the audio system. It took him a second to realize her words had woken him from his cramped position. After glancing at his watch to find he’d somehow slept to a little after nine, he lifted his arms over his head and twisted his waist back and forth to stretch out his spine. Office chairs were not the best place to be sleeping. It had been a good five years since he’d been in his twenties with a much more limber body.

  “Okay, my girl, let’s see what you’re up to this morning.”

  Ryan adjusted the volume and scanned the three monitors. He found her in the second camera, which panned the dining and kitchen area. She stood with one hand on the kitchen counter and the other wrapped around a telephone receiver.

  “Your escort will arrive at eight tonight,” a woman on the other line was saying. “If you require him longer than the two hours you’ve prepaid for, it’s an additional hundred dollars an hour. Also with your card on file, if you decide to hire an escort from us in the future, the process is far easier all around, especially if you decide to go online and choose your escort that way.”

  What the hell? Ryan rubbed at his temple with the heel of his hand. He couldn’t be hearing this right.

  “I hadn’t realized you had a web site.” Paige drummed her fingers against the counter.

  Fully awake now, Ryan grabbed onto the arms of his chair. His heart rate kicked up in tempo as comprehension set in.

  “Oh, yes,” the other woman replied. “Many of our customers prefer ordering their escorts that way.”

  “I’ll have to remember that for next time.”

  Next time. Next time? Paige had just hired herself an escort … and she planned on doing it again?

  She rubbed her fingers back and forth against the counter as if nervous. “Thank you.”

  In his hurry, he almost fell over his chair as he jumped to his feet and glared at Paige now pacing the kitchen.

  “And thank you for choosing Escorts R Us.”

  Ryan scowled. What the hell type of name was that? His scowl deepened. The company sounded far too familiar. Not good when it came to his line of work.

  What the hell was she doing calling an escort service? She was attractive and intelligent from what he’d seen so far. She could have any man. Hell, if not for this damn job, she could have him.

  He dropped back in his chair and did a quick search of the internet on his computer. Seconds later he found what he was looking for.

  Oh, yeah. He remembered now.

  Two years ago, the Bureau had investigated Escorts R Us for drug trafficking and prostitution. They’d managed to get enough to file charges for prostitution, but then because of a damn technicality and a slick lawyer, the charges had been dropped.

  There was no way he’d let Paige get tangled with the likes of this escort service. She couldn’t have picked a worse one, and she also couldn’t possibly know what type of low-life characters the company employed. It would be pure suicide if she got herself tangled up with these guys with the Bureau investigating her now.

  He had to figure out a way to keep her from getting involved with Escorts R Us.

  But what the hell could he do?

  When the doorbell chimed, Paige counted to twenty, dragged in a rattling breath and wiped damp palms against her black suede mini skirt. The idea of losing her virginity tonight with a complete stranger and hired escort might have something to do with the tremor in her hands and her frayed composure as she unlocked the front door.

  Here goes.

  She opened the door and gaped up at the man in front of her. He had to be well over six feet. A breeze—considered hot even for Phoenix in August—swept into the foyer. The man, not the warmth in the air, sent a wave of pulse-pounding heat rushing through her body.

  Although the night sky shaded the front yard and street beyond, the foyer light caressed her escort’s flawless skin, cleft chin and strong, square jaw. Nothing prepared her for the scrumptious specimen standing at her door. His short, sandy hair cut close at the ear looked like the wind or a woman’s fingers had swept through their silken strands.

  Oh, my. Awareness danced across her body.

  When he broke into a smile and a dimple appeared in his left cheek, her already pounding heartbeat sped into a wild crescendo against her ribs. Getting rid of her virginity didn’t feel like such a chore anymore.

  She never planned on being a virgin at this stage in her life, but raising a younger sister after the death of both parents tended to put sex and relationships at the bottom of the priority list. Well, things were going to change. Tonight, she intended to get physical and looked toward the next couple of hours with anticipation instead of apprehension.

  What was that saying? More bang for the buck?

  Paige mentally groaned. Maybe that might be a little closer to the truth than she liked to admit. She opened the door wider and edged away from the entrance. “Why don’t you come in?”

  “Thanks. My name’s Ryan. I’m—”

  “Yes, yes. I know. I’m Paige. That’s with an ‘i’ and not like a page in the book. I used to have to explain that over and over again to my teachers even though it’s a pretty common name and—” Paige snapped her mouth shut before she spilled her vital statistics. Could she really be any more inane? “Sorry. You’re very attractive.”

  Pleasure flared in his cobalt eyes as his gaze swept a scorching path down her black, satin cami, past her low-slung mini skirt to linger on her legs. She hoped the platform, stiletto sandals added the right touch. She did know she looked her best, having spent hours plucking, buffing and moisturizing. And right now the sexual heat in his eyes was moistening her panties. Any hotter and she’d be dripping with want.

  He stepped past her, and his scent drifted across her senses. Musky, male with a hint of citrus. He wore the type of cologne she’d always secretly wanted to dab on herself in the department stores.

  Shivering, she closed the door. She’d never had a male inside her house, at least not one that was under forty, with a full-head of hair and didn’t look like he’d pass out from running up a flight of stairs.

  She led him into the living room where several candles lined the mantel and the interior of the fireplace, sending soft, romantic light through the room. She’d spent the good part of the day thinking and rethinking
how to make her fall into depravity appeal to the senses.

  Earlier, she’d tossed a thick, faux polar bear throw onto the floor in front of the fireplace. Sultry music played from the speaker in the corner of the room. On the mahogany coffee table, two champagne flutes and a bottle of bubbly sat along with a basket of chocolate and strawberries.

  Paige looked over at the antique clock on the mantel. “You’re an hour early.”

  “I’m sorry?” He glanced at his wrist and his chunky, silver watch. Paige hadn’t a clue of the brand, but it looked expensive—maybe all those tips from his women.

  “You don’t have to apologize. Better early than late. I’m the type who’s always insanely early. I couldn’t be late if my life depended on it. I swear it’s a personality flaw. Really, it’s—” Paige shut her mouth. There she went again, letting her nerves spew out a pile of verbal garbage. If she wasn’t careful, he’d think she was rabid at the mouth.

  She needed to take a deep breath and calm down. If she decided to stop being so nervous, she just might enjoy the evening. She had the perfect looking partner. And from the ad on the internet, she had a professional, personable and always ready escort with years of experience and knowledge beneath his fingers.

  Paige took in Ryan’s faded jeans and white, dress shirt untucked at the waist. Her gaze caught on the large bulge in his pants. Getting air into her lungs suddenly seemed a Herculean effort. Desire curled and settled low in her belly.

  Not wanting to appear sex-starved, she snapped her gaze away from that very manly bulge and realized by Ryan’s raised eyebrow, he’d caught her staring.

  As she walked toward the coffee table and champagne, Paige sensed a sudden, predatory interest from him and became terribly conscious of every exposed inch of her skin. Her nipples hardened and pressed against her shirt and the bustier beneath. The fabric magnified her growing need to have a hand or mouth stroking her breast.

  She poured two glasses. Some champagne dribbled onto the mahogany table from her far too klutzy hands. If she kept this up, she was liable to damage the man before the night was out. “I hope you like champagne. I wanted to celebrate because my birthday’s tomorrow.”

 

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