Fun with Dick and Jayne
Delilah Devlin
Copyright © 2017 Delilah Devlin
Kindle Edition
He didn’t know the nightly peepshow was just a naughty invitation…
Seattle cop, Garrett Masters, knows what he’s doing can get him into trouble, but he can’t help himself. Every night as he arrives home, the blonde across the alley gets busy with her boyfriend with the blinds open. He’s spent the past two weeks getting an eyeful and falling deep into lust. But when Garrett sees a man in a black ski mask sneak into his sexy neighbor’s bedroom, he doesn’t know he’ll be the one captured.
Jayne has a nice life with a wonderful lover who sees to her every need, but she’s still drawn to the lonely man across the alley. She’s been sharing her deepest fantasies with him from afar but wants more. When she talks Richard into enacting a dangerous scenario, everything works out as planned. Only Garrett’s not happy about being played. And he’s got reservations, because she already has a lover, and he’s not into threesomes. Now Jayne has to convince him otherwise.
Table of Contents
Title Page
About the Book
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
About Delilah Devlin
Delilah’s Uncharted SEALs series
Chapter One
‡
Tuesday
They were going at it again, and he was gonna get arrested. Which would be pretty damn embarrassing, considering he was cop.
Like clockwork, the couple across the alleyway started banging the minute his car pulled into the garage.
A sight impossible to miss. The street along the back of the parallel rows of one-story houses wasn’t much of a buffer. Driveways spoked off the narrow, paved road, and only twenty feet separated his garage from the bedroom window across the way.
Last night, he’d loosened the garage light bulb to make sure it didn’t give him away when the door slid up. Tonight, he’d flicked his car’s overhead lamp switch off so that the light wouldn’t beam the moment he exited his vehicle. Carefully, he closed his car door, pushing it with his hip to muffle the click as it locked, then walked around to the back of the car to lean his ass against the trunk and watch the show.
They had to know anyone walking by could see every damn thing—every drop of sweat, every short curl of pale blonde hair. She faced the window, clutching the bottom windowsill, her breasts bouncing every time Boyfriend slammed her ass.
God, her tits were Grade-A prime. Cherry nipples topping creamy mounds.
Her blue eyes closed, her mouth rounded, and he knew when she came because she always wore the same expression—her cheeks growing rosy, her eyebrows drawing together tightly, and the corners of her mouth curving like the cat that licked the cream.
And if the wind hadn’t been whistling through the alley, he would have heard the whimper she gave when Boyfriend milked the last little contraction of her orgasm.
Fuck. He needed his own woman. Maybe she had a twin. Because he sure as shit wouldn’t be satisfied with anyone who wasn’t her, Jayne Peabody—Jayne Hotbody as he’d begun to call her in his head. He’d had her plates run so he’d have a name to assign the woman who’d played a starring role in all his fantasies these past couple of weeks.
At last, the couple finished and Boyfriend was pulling her into his arms, wrapping them around her belly and cupping those beautiful breasts as she snuggled her back against his chest.
It was time to leave. The show was over for the night.
Then her eyes opened, and Garrett Masters could have sworn she looked right at him. He cussed softly, straightened, and raised his arm, pulling down the garage door and shutting off the sight of her mouth stretching into a wide grin.
*
Wednesday
This time he was ready. He popped the beer top, lifted his drink into the air to silently salute them, and decided to watch the goings on across the way like a spectator sport. He’d even devised a scoring system.
Ten points for the first orgasm. Five to fifteen for each successive multiple, depending on how hard Boyfriend had to work. But Jayne didn’t need much encouragement to slam quickly through three. All her partner had to do was angle her face toward the window. Her eyelids drooped, and her kitten smile curled.
When Boyfriend turned her toward the bed and bent her over, Garrett stiffened because this wasn’t a view he’d had before. Her pretty white ass, sweetly curved, her dark pink sex framed between her closed thighs. Fuuuck!
Boyfriend walked out of sight then returned with leather straps.
Garrett swallowed down the beer and crushed the can in his fist.
Boyfriend bound her legs together and strapped her hands to the sides of her thighs, forcing her to remain bent. Then he tied a blindfold around her head.
Jayne’s bottom wriggled, but moisture glistened on her sex, dribbled down the backs of her thighs. And that was before Boyfriend reached to pick up something from the floor.
When he straightened, he brandished a short riding crop.
“Fifty points,” Garrett breathed, his stomach beginning to knot as he watched the other man swat her buttocks in quick succession, leaving reddened welts, which she apparently enjoyed by the loudness of her groans and whimpers. However, when he dropped the whip and turned her toward the window, tears streaked down her cheeks from beneath the blindfold.
Garrett stiffened, ready to charge over there and break it up. But Boyfriend gripped her hips and forcefully slammed against her buttocks, thrusting deep. Her lips rounded, tears trickling into her mouth as she came.
Garrett shuddered, his breaths coming quick, wondering what the fuck he was doing watching this, watching another man torture a woman into orgasm, his own body slamming toward a climax that shocked him with its ferocity.
Boyfriend removed the blindfold. Jayne’s eyes opened, gleaming through the darkness, seeming to pull him deeper into her twisted, kinky play.
This wasn’t for him. He’d never laid a hand on a woman, and damn sure couldn’t stand by watching it. He couldn’t do this anymore. The sweet, funny tenor of the sessions had changed to something darker, something grim and decidedly too rich for his blood.
Before they’d finished, he slammed the door down between them.
*
Thursday
“For the love of…fuck.”
He tried to keep his gaze averted this time and hadn’t bothered sneaking out of his car with the lights turned off. But one glance and he was caught.
Boyfriend’s tall, lean body was turned sideways, and he held his cock in his hand.
Jayne Hotbody stuck out her pink tongue and licked around the crown, and then clasped her mouth around it and sucked.
Boyfriend’s eyes closed tightly, and he fisted himself, pumping as she bobbed forward to meet his fingers then pulled away.
She braced a hand against his hip then turned to give Garrett one of those kittenish smiles, her blue eyes seeming to plead for him to watch. Was this her way of apologizing?
Did her boyfriend even have a clue what she was doing?
Garrett’s day had been a ball-buster, and the last thing he’d wanted was to be left with an aching hard-on no amount of one-handed pocket pool could relieve, but she seemed to be inviting him to join. To watch as she blew Boyfriend and teased the hell out of him.
Well, hell. He was tired of watching and being left aching. He opened his utility belt, unbuttoned his pants, and eased down his zipper. When he drew out his cock, he stared down at himself, musing that this time he really
would get arrested with his dick in his hand.
Then he glanced up.
Jayne wasn’t smiling. She was licking her lips, her chest billowing faster. She grabbed Boyfriend by the hips and turned him so she could blow while she watched Garrett.
Her gaze didn’t leave Garrett as he began to work himself. He gripped his shaft firmly, gliding his hand up and down, sliding his thumb over the top of the crown at the end of every pull.
Watching her watching him while blowing What’s-his-face was more intimate than anything they’d shared before. He felt more connected, as if he were having sex with her instead of jerking himself off in the out-of-doors while he played the Peeping Tom to his naughty neighbor.
Boyfriend gripped her head and flexed his muscular hips forward and back, stroking into her hot little mouth. Garrett dropped spit to feel moisture and imagined her lips surrounding him.
Tension gripped his balls, and he rocked on his heels, forward and back, while his arm tensed and pistoned faster.
When he came, white cum spitting from his dick, he glanced up to catch her suctioning, swallowing Boyfriend down with his head flung back and his flanks quivering.
Shit, he’d finally, firmly entered pervdom. Stepping back, Garrett reached for the handle and slammed the garage door down.
*
Friday
Garrett arrived home later than usual, having stopped for drinks with his partner and a couple of other cops before heading home, hoping Jayne and Boyfriend had finished because he was wiped and unhappy.
The last few nights’ little episodes had left him feeling edgy and ashamed. He wasn’t a voyeur, hadn’t ever been the kind of guy to step beyond the law to get his kicks. He’d have to make the effort to find his own playmate and lose his obsession with the curvy blonde across the way.
Rain fell, a light Seattle mist that beaded on his windows but didn’t destroy his view as he hit the remote and pulled into his garage, because he was damned if he’d sneak into his own garage. This was his house. He had every right to drive into his own garage, every right to look around without being bombarded with images that kept him hard and irritable every fucking night.
From the corner of his eye, he saw the light switch on across the way. He turned off his car and stared into his rearview mirror, refusing to answer her invitation. But she was dressed for once, in a tight baby tee that left her abdomen bare above sweatpants with the waistband rolled down to expose her taut little tummy. She was on the treadmill, earphones in, and she was singing. He knew because he could hear the off-key warbles.
Thank God, she had a flaw.
Then he spotted a movement, a dark shadow separating from the bushes beneath her window and rising.
Adrenaline spiked in his veins, and Garrett eased open his door, not bothering to close it after himself. He crouched beside his car, crept out of the garage, and followed his fence line to the street.
The figure of a man, dressed entirely in black, his face covered with a ski mask, had Garrett’s heart lodging in the back of his throat. The man eased up the window, but Jayne didn’t notice. The singing grew louder.
Garrett skimmed across the alley, following his neighbor’s fence to the gate, opened it, and ran up the steps to the side door of the house. He tried the knob. The door was open, and he let himself in, hugging the wall and following Jayne’s voice. As he peered around the corner into her bedroom, her back was to the man who crouched behind her bed, coming closer.
Garrett launched himself through the door.
Jayne screamed, jumping off the treadmill and slamming her back against the wall, her eyes wide and frightened.
Garrett crashed into the intruder, taking him to the ground, rolling him to his belly, and sticking his knee into his back while he slipped the cuffs from his belt and slapped them around the perp’s wrists.
“Ma’am,” he shouted over his shoulder. “Call 9-1-1.”
The man squirmed. “Jayne—”
Garrett drove his knee harder into the intruder’s back. “Just take it easy there, scumbag. Ma’am, you need to make that call.”
“Jayne…for fuck’s sake, honey…tell him!”
Garrett glanced at Jayne.
Her eyes were wide; her hands were cupped over her mouth. When she dragged them down, he saw that her lips were pressed tightly together. Then suddenly, she sputtered with laughter. “Oh. My. God. Dick, honey, this is the best ever!”
Jayne quivered with excitement as she handed a beer to the cop from across the alleyway. At last, he was close enough to touch. She felt as though she already knew so much about him, and she didn’t even know his name.
Oh, not quite true. The name plate on his uniform indicated his last name was “Masters”. Perfect for what she had in mind.
Her best friend and favorite fuck buddy Richard Anderson—so un-MacGyverish—snarled from the chair he’d taken opposite the cop whose widespread thighs took up half the large sofa. Officer Masters was a big man—long fingers, big feet. And she knew the wives’ tale held true as to the rest of what was big about him.
“Dick, stop pouting,” she said, and slid onto the sofa beside the scowling cop. “I’m so sorry,” she said to him, ignoring Richard’s dropping jaw. “I know it was a stupid thing to do. We didn’t mean to upset you.”
Richard shook his head and guzzled down his beer. It looked as if he intended to get shit-faced, but he hadn’t spoiled her story by blurting out “the criminal and the innocent” scenario had been her own brilliant idea.
Her body shivered sitting so close to him, but she really did need a name because she’d been calling him “The Cum-inator” for a week. “I’m Jayne Peabody,” she said, extending her hand.
The surly policeman stared at her hand, and she thought he’d refuse to shake it, but he slowly lifted his hand, completely engulfing hers. The heat from his palm made her start to sweat. He didn’t release her hand immediately, and she gave him a little extra squeeze, which caused him to grow very still. His stare bored into hers.
She winked. Angled as she was, away from her partner in lewd and lascivious crimes, Richard didn’t have a clue how hard she meant to flirt with the big, brooding man beside her. Not that he’d complain. He’d enjoyed the hell out of their seduction so far.
The cop cleared his throat. “Garrett Masters.” He dropped her hand then rubbed his palm against his thigh.
Had he felt the same electric spark? “This is Richard Anderson, but I just call him Dick.”
“It’s what I am,” Richard said grumpily, clenching and unclenching his right hand.
“Still trying to get some feeling back into your arm?” she asked, pretending concern. His takedown by the big, bad cop would feed his fantasies for a week. Hers too, unless she could convince dark and broody to get up close and personal for the next sex games.
“You really should lock all your doors and windows,” Garrett grumbled.
Jayne considered acting the ditz, but she didn’t want to play another game, not right now anyway. “I left the side door open on purpose. And the window.”
His eyes narrowed.
She shrugged and gave him a sheepish smile.
He grunted. “What if I had rushed in with my gun drawn?”
She arched an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you?”
He let out a sigh and sat back. “Because I wondered…”
“Whether this was just another sexy game? Smart man,” she purred.
Garrett’s expression shifted—from tense irritation to a laser-focused stare. “So what is this? Really? You two always get your kicks off flashing your neighbors?”
“Not anything as random as that,” she said, leaning close enough her shoulder touched his.
He didn’t move away. His gaze swept her face then dropped to her mouth.
She licked her lips and leaned closer until her face tilted beneath his. “It’s just you,” she said softly. “I’ve had my eyes on you since we first moved in.”
His intense st
are never faltered. “If you wanted my attention, all you had to do was say hello.”
“Really?” she said breathlessly. Everything was going better than planned. He seemed interested—really, really interested if the thick column outlined against his thigh was any indication.
“But there’s a problem,” he rumbled.
She blinked, dragging her gaze upward to meet his again. “What’s that?”
His dark stare glared. “You already have a boyfriend.”
She lifted her eyebrows. “You mean Dick?”
“Yeah, you have Dick. I don’t poach.”
“That’s good to know…” She walked her fingers up his sleeve, and then peeked at him from under her eyelashes. “Officer…Garrett, do you share?”
Chapter Two
‡
Garrett kept his expression schooled into his harsh “cop mask”. She hadn’t just said that, had she? But then again, why was he surprised? The couple had been slowly working through a list of sexual acts. A threesome must be next on the menu.
He cleared his throat. The offer had interested his southern brain a little too much—which would become more embarrassingly apparent the longer he stayed. “I think it’s time for me to go.”
Jayne pulled back. “I didn’t mean to shock you.” A frown settled between her brows, and the corners of her mouth dipped. “I thought…”
“Give it a rest, Jayne,” Richard said, his tone still vibrating with irritation. “He’s not interested.”
Not entirely true, Garrett reflected, given his conduct over the past week. But it wasn’t as if he really knew either of them well enough to agree to go all the way. A man had to have standards. “I’m sure you’re both very nice,” he said, his voice tinged with irony, “and I know I must have given you some mixed signals, but I didn’t intend to encourage you.”
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t realize I’d made you so uncomfortable. I thought we were all having fun.”
“Jayne…” Richard shook his head.
Fun with Dick and Jayne Page 1
