by Myla Jackson
When he was completely at her mercy, she’d leave him. Only then would he understand the depths of despair she’d fallen to when he’d left her. Only then would he know how it felt to lose the air your body needed to remain alive from day to day.
“Suck it, woman,” he rumbled, less coherent, more of a groan.
“Yes, master.” She opened her mouth and took him in, sliding all the way over his length until the tip of his member bumped against the back of her throat.
His fingers convulsed in her hair, pulling hard until her scalp hurt, the pain only adding to the rise of lust inside her. Low in her belly she ached for release, ached to be naked. Craved to have him ram his cock into her, hard, rough and soon.
As her tongue swirled around his dick, her fingers worked the buttons of her shirt and trousers, feverishly loosening them, fearing that her plan to make him crave her had backfired. She didn’t care. She wanted her skin against his, his cock inside her, his hands touching her in all the most intimate places.
His body tensed, his hips pumping into her, increasing in speed, his cock swelling to hardened steel.
The frenzied pace only made her want more. She struggled with the buttons, her fingers useless, her body on fire.
Then he stiffened and yanked free of her mouth.
Rosalyn cried out, her hands reaching to take him back.
He didn’t let her, pulling her to her feet. “That was good, but it’s not enough.”
“It’s never enough,” she whimpered, falling into their old habits, the game they’d played a hundred times. Her eyes widened, pretending fear when all she felt was excitement, exhilaration and rampant lust.
“You’ve been a very bad girl. You deserve to be punished.”
“No, I’ve done what you asked.” She couldn’t stop the words, couldn’t change the story. At this point, she didn’t want to. She wanted what came next.
He pushed her against the wall. “You can’t escape me. I own you. You are mine to take whenever I want.” In a flash of movement, he bent to jerk her trousers down. The woolen fabric slipped down her hips. He pulled them off, over her boots, leaving her legs and ass bare.
Her body shivered, the anticipation building, her core wet and ready for his punishment. She bit hard on her lower lip to keep from begging him to take her.
Makin’ a list, and rocking it…twice.
The Naughty List
© 2011 Jodi Redford
Perpetual good girl Lacey McGuire has two Christmas wish lists. One suitable for public consumption…and a private one that’s too hot to handle. Right at the top: wild, wicked fantasies about her best buddies and business partners Ryan Hollister and Bram Colton.
Besides the fact they’re both poster boys for Hunks ’R’ Us, they’ve been there for her through thick, thin and the heartbreak of a cheating fiancé. So what if her boys will never know they star in her sexiest daydreams? In her fantasy world, her heart will never get trampled again.
Ry and Bram are pretty sure Lacey never meant to email a list of some of her raunchiest wants. Particularly the one that tightens their shorts—she wants a threesome. With them. Although they’ve loved her for years, they made a pact to keep Lacey off limits in order to protect their friendship. Now all bets are off. And the quest to give her all she wants—and more—is on.
Warning: This book contains a wickedly hot M/F/M ménage that will heat up the holidays. Friends steaming things up in a hot tub. Bondage and blindfolds. Sexy shenanigans at a Christmas tree lot. And maybe even a glimpse of Santa…in a Speedo.
Enjoy the following excerpt for The Naughty List:
Bending, Bram slid his mouth over hers. The contrast of his warm lips and breath against her colder flesh was startling. His heat managed to kindle her body in more ways than one. By the time he broke the kiss, her inner temperature had skyrocketed by at least one hundred degrees. They pulled apart and she peeked sideways. Ry was staring at them, his eyes dark and intense. There was no mistaking the obvious bulge tenting the fly of his jeans.
Wow, did watching her and Bram kissing turn him on? The notion was both odd and arousing. Ry had such a strong possessive streak. She could only guess that he tended to be just as territorial when it came to his women.
Mulling back over that last thought, she realized where her misassumption lay. She wasn’t Ry’s woman. Why would he care who kissed her? Furthermore, of course he’d be aroused witnessing the kiss between her and Bram. For Pete’s sake, the two men intended to do a hell of a lot more than that with her together.
The reminder brought her jittery nerves back to the forefront. If she were to be completely honest with herself, what terrified her most was the possibility of being a huge disappointment to Ry and Bram. Smothering her sigh, she knelt and unzipped her boots before tugging them off. She couldn’t help being grateful for the radiant heating Bram had installed with his parquet floors. Her toes curling in appreciation of the cozy warmth, she straightened and hugged her chest.
“How about a glass of wine?” Bram offered, heading toward the kitchen. “I just opened a bottle.”
A fifth of tequila was more in order, but she kept the thought to herself. She didn’t want them to assume she needed to get snockered in order to go through with this. Even though she probably did.
Ry’s palm rubbed her tensed back, and she looked up at him. With his free arm, he gestured toward Bram, indicating that they should follow him.
Good idea. Standing all night in the entry clearly wouldn’t get them anywhere fast. Feeling like a doofus, she allowed Ry to lead her into the kitchen. While Bram grabbed a pair of crystal stemware from the rack and a cold beer from the fridge for Ry, she scooted onto one of the leather-capped barstools fronting the center island. She’d sat on this very seat numerous times, but she’d never once experienced the level of stomach-churning anxiety that she did now.
Where was the sexy Lacey from her fantasies? Figures the damn wench would abandon her in her time of need.
Bram settled her wineglass in front of her, and she picked it up to take a fortifying sip. A warm, mellow glow spread through her as the Shiraz settled in her belly. The aroma of garlic and red chilies carried from a pan sizzling on the stove. She licked her lips. “Is that Kevin’s Penne Arrabiata?”
“Yep. I’m just reheating it a bit. It’ll be ready in a sec.”
Both Bram and Ry knew the dish was her absolute favorite. It was just one of the countless insider scoops they had on her. Knowing they’d deliberately chosen her most beloved comfort food settled her nerves and her stomach. These two men practically knew her better than she knew herself. They’d been there for her through some of the toughest times in her life. If there was anyone she trusted to embark on a sexual discovery with, it was them.
This would work. She’d make damn sure of it. Gulping another sip of wine, she silently armored her determination. Her fingers no longer displaying the trembling she’d suffered moments ago, she pushed the glass closer to the middle of the island and turned toward Ry. He smiled at her in the adorable way that always made his eyes crinkle at the corners. Leaning forward, she crushed her mouth over his, earning his harsh intake of breath. His surprise didn’t last long though. Groaning, he tangled a hand in her hair, slanting her head as his tongue delved past her lips.
He kissed her like he was giving a demonstration of how he intended to make love to her—hot, deep and consuming. His other hand moved to her breast and caressed it through her clothing. A frustrated growl rumbled from him, and he reached for the hem of her sweater and tugged it upward. He broke their kiss and guided her arms over her head. She realized what he intended to do. Rather than protest, she allowed him to remove her sweater and toss it on the stool behind him.
His gaze raked her torso, lingering on the plumped cleavage peeking above the silk cups of her pink demi bra. Without saying a word, he unhooked the front closure. The weight of her breasts pushed the bra open slightly. Running his fingers beneath the straps, Ry eased the
m down her shoulders, forcing the garment to separate from her flesh in agonizingly slow increments. His Adam’s apple bobbed, a sure sign that his lazy, tormenting movements affected him just as much as her. The edges of the silk caught on her nipples, the teasing rasp springing a moan past her lips.
Finally the fabric released her from its taunting hold, completely baring her to Ry’s heated gaze. “Christ, you’re fucking beautiful.”
A soft scuff sounded to the left, and she turned her head to see Bram standing beside her. She’d been so ensnared in Ry’s focus she hadn’t heard Bram approach until then. Like Ry, he was staring at her with a dark, ravenous hunger. “He’s right, Lace. Your breasts are gorgeous. Absolutely perfect.”
She’d always worried they were too big, especially in the sense that they’d sag and not exactly be perky the older she got. But judging from Bram’s and Ry’s enamored expressions, saggy boobs were the last concern on their minds. As if to verify her assumption, Ry cupped her breast, her flesh overflowing his palm. His thumb flicked over her puckered nipple, and she gasped, a pleasurable shiver coursing along her spine. His pupils dilated, making his eyes look dark and sexy as sin. Massaging her breast, he leaned down and traced her areola with the tip of his tongue before kissing the pebbled nub. Her breath hitched and her head fell back, her eyes sliding shut. They flew open a second later when Bram’s mouth closed around her other nipple.
They were both licking and sucking her breasts. Oh God. She’d fantasized about this very thing thousands of times yet nothing could compare to the mind-blowing reality of it. The pleasure was so intense, she worried she might pass out from it. Her fingers sifted through Ry’s and Bram’s hair, holding them close. Although they were equally devoted to worshipping her breasts, their style and technique came with differences. Intriguing, exciting differences that only fueled her arousal to a fever pitch. Bram’s focus was strictly concentrated on her nipple, alternating between teasing flicks of his tongue and long, luscious suckling. Ry, on the other hand, occasionally licked and teased her entire breast, even using his teeth and the scruff of his days-old beard to amp up his sensual onslaught.
Just as she thought she’d go crazy from the pleasurable overload they were inflicting on her, a shrill buzzing filled the air. She jolted at the unexpected noise.
Bram released her and groaned. “Sorry. I forgot I set the timer.” His expression apologetic, he abandoned her to go take care of things on the stove.
Ry’s mouth reluctantly left her breast and slid along the slope of her neck before brushing over her lips. “Do you have any idea how delicious you are?”
“Even better than Kevin’s Penne Arrabiata?” she couldn’t help asking with a grin.
“A million times tastier.” He snagged her bottom lip between his teeth and gave it a good nibble before letting her go and glancing down at her bared breasts with unabashed appreciation. “Look at you. Damn, you should be topless all the time.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that’d go over great at work.” Leaning past him, she attempted to grab her sweater, but Ry used his foot to kick the stool out of her reach. She frowned. “I need that.”
“Why?”
She shoved her arms over her chest. “I am not going to eat with my boobs hanging out like this, Ryan Hollister.”
A chuckle came from Bram. “Ooh, she called you by your full name. You’re in trouble now, bud.”
Ry didn’t look the least bit worried. “I’m only trying to save her from slopping on her sweater. You’d think she’d appreciate my ingenuity.”
“Puh-lease. We all know who’s the messier eater here.” She offered Ry a pointed stare.
“Can I help it if I enjoy savoring my meals?” His smile was slow and sexy, leaving her with little doubt that he was imagining her as his next main course.
There’s a wild child trapped inside her, and they’re hell-bent on unleashing it…
Four Sworn
© 2010 Delilah Devlin
Lone Star Lovers, Book 3
As the pretty daughter of the town whore, Shanna Davies has always tried hard to toe the line. But she just can’t help it. Her boyfriend, Bo Crenshaw, has lured her untamed spirit out to play once too often. It’s time to get the hell out of Dodge and make a new start where no one knows her past. After she fulfills one last, wicked fantasy.
Shanna is Bo’s first everything. First kiss, first sexual playmate, first love. Yet he’s never managed to convince her that he accepts her—good girl and bad—just as she is. So, she wants a memorable send off? No problem. He’ll give her one that’ll make her think twice about leaving.
On the appointed night, Shanna expects nerves. Yet once she crosses the threshold, the prospect of surrendering to a night of unrestrained passion with Bo and the three Kinzie brothers makes her mouth water—and her courage dry up.
But she asked for it, and now she’s not about to blink first in this game of sexual chicken…
Warning: Four lusty cowboys prove a little domination goes a long way in breaking a stubborn woman to saddle. Lots of spanking, binding, flogging, and double-dipping can keep a girl on her toes, her back, her belly, her knees…
Enjoy the following excerpt for Four Sworn:
Shanna reached up and kissed him then dropped her head back.
Bo was so handsome it broke her heart to look at him. Brown hair, green eyes, a lean, muscled frame were only the start of what she liked about him. His sharp-edged face, square jaw and the way he looked right into her eyes when he talked to her, never failed to make her melt.
He was the best friend she’d ever had. Knew every one of her dirty little secrets, but he’d never judged her. Never looked down on her. And she knew he’d be more than willing to take on all her problems on a permanent basis because he thought he was in love with her.
But she couldn’t do it to him. He deserved better than getting smeared with the likes of Camilla Davies’ daughter. Which was why she’d never let him park his truck outside the tidy little house her grandma had left to her when she moved to the retirement home.
“Blood will out.” Or so Gran had always said, shaking her head mournfully whenever Shanna colored outside the lines. And hadn’t the old woman been right, after all? Just look at what she’d asked Bo to do for her.
A coyote howled in the distance, bringing her back. The ridges in the truck bed were digging into her spine, but she didn’t want to be the first to push away. She wiggled her butt to realign with the ridges.
Bo lifted his head from her shoulder. “I’m crushin’ you.”
“No you aren’t,” she said, but she lowered her legs from his waist and let him slide to the side of her body. Shanna stuck an arm under her head and gazed at the stars glittering against the dark sky. “This was a great idea,” she said softly. “You always know the perfect place.”
Bo rolled to his back. “It’s the middle of the football field. Better hope we don’t get caught. There won’t be any hidin’ the tire tracks in the grass.” Bo laughed. “At least it’s better than the high school janitor’s closet.”
She shoved her elbow in his side. “No one found us.”
“We both smelled like bleach after we spilled the supply shelf.”
“Good thing we were naked then because our clothes didn’t get ruined.”
Smiling, Bo rubbed a lazy hand across his belly. “Have to say I was surprised you sought me out tonight.”
“Just needed a partner to get out on the dance floor.”
“That’s not what I meant. I’ve hardly seen you around town. Gran said you’ve been job-hunting, interviewing in Austin and Houston. You didn’t tell me. Thought you were avoidin’ me.”
“I’ve been lookin’ for a job. Not that I have tons of options. Shoulda finished college when I had the chance.”
“You hated school. Only reason you went to SMU in the first place was to get away from Two Mule. That why you’ve been job-huntin’ so far from home?”
“Yeah. Thought it wa
s about time to start the rest of my life. I can’t stay here forever.”
He stayed silent so long, she wondered if he’d fallen asleep. She glanced over at him, only to discover his head was propped on his arm while he studied her face.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she said, pushing out her bottom lip.
His eyebrows rose. “Like what?”
“I don’t know. Like you think I’m a coward.”
His eyebrows dropped. “I don’t think that at all.”
Shanna scowled. “I’m not like you. I don’t come from a good family. Everywhere I go in Two Mule, someone whispers behind my back. They all wonder when I’ll prove I’m just like my mom.”
“Your mom wasn’t a bad person. I liked her.”
“Men liked her because most of ’em knew her in the biblical sense.”
“That’s an exaggeration.”
She wrinkled her nose. “She was a whore, Bo, with a string of sugar daddies.”
Bo nodded, his expression thoughtful. “She had some issues, but she wasn’t a bad person. And you aren’t her.”
“People won’t let me be someone other than Camilla Davies’ daughter. And look at me. Look at what I want. What does that say about me?”
He rolled to his side and settled his head on his hand. “It just means you’re sexually curious. So am I. Does that make me a whore? Bet I’ve had more lovers than you.”
Shanna met his gaze, hyper-aware of his broad chest and missing his weight pinning her to the truck bed. She wished she could cuddle against him and draw on his inner core of strength. “Why haven’t you settled down? You could find yourself a good woman.”
His fingertip traced the length of her nose then tapped the end. “Because there’s only one you,” he said, smiling softly.
