Praise for the writing of Melissa Schroeder
A Little Harmless Sex
A Little Harmless Sex is a lot of harmless fun! Melissa Schroeder has penned another wonderful romp that will leave you lusting for more, more, more and eagerly awaiting her next release.
-- Rayne Forrest, author of Across Time (Loose Id)
Endless love and insatiable sex combine to make this book a real firecracker!
-- Sally Apple, author of Truth or Bare (coming from Loose Id)
A Little Harmless Sex is a big guilty pleasure!
-- Daria Karpova, author of Loose Diamonds (Loose Id)
Again, author Melissa Schroeder has come through wit ha fantastic blending of humor, sensuality, love and romance. Max and Anna's friendship has reached the point of escalation. This is a delicious tale of friendship and love, and brings the hope of what could be to the front of the imagination. Well done!
-- Kally Jo Surbeck, author of For The Love Of… (Loose Id)
The Hired Hand
If you love steamy romances, A Hired Hand promises to deliver a satisfying read. Liam’s a man who’ll have readers turning the pages to discover the details of his next close encounter. You’ll laugh and love his every move and clamor for more of his sexy antics. The sassy and determined Marlow saunters onto the scene and steals his heart…but he’ll steal yours if you’re not careful. In her debut as an erotic romance author, Melissa delivers in spades…and every other suit in the deck.
-- Shawna Moore, author of Saints and Sinners (Whiskey Creek Press)
The Hired Hand is now available from Whiskey Creek Press.
A LITTLE HARMLESS SEX
Melissa Schroeder
www.loose-id.com
Warning
This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
* * * * *
This book is rated:
Contains explicit sexual content and graphic language.
A Little Harmless Sex
Melissa Schroeder
This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the 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.
Published by
Loose Id LLC
1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-29
Carson City NV 89701-1215
www.loose-id.com
Copyright © October 2004 by Melissa Schroeder
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.
ISBN 1-59632-022-2
Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader
Printed in the United States of America
Editor: Linda Kusiolek
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Dedication
To Linda Kusiolek --
A woman who understands my humor, who pushed and prodded and believed in my work. Fate was truly shining on me the day you became my editor. Anna, Max and I will be forever grateful that you believed.
.
Chapter One
“You have to understand, Max, this has nothing to do with you.” Cynthia tucked a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. The sweet smell of jasmine filled the humid Georgia air along with the clink of glasses and silverware against fine china.
Maxwell Chandler stared at his fiancée -- strike that -- his soon-to-be ex-fiancée, and wondered why she’d dragged him out to lunch just to dump him. Probably because Cynthia was worried he’d cause a scene. Max never made a scene. Which meant that she didn’t know him well. And, as Anna, Max’s best friend, had pointed out, that wasn’t any way to start a marriage. Maybe that’s why all he felt was…relief.
“You’re calling off our engagement, so I think it has a little to do with me,” Max said in an agreeable tone. “Have you met someone else?”
Her blue eyes widened. “No, Max. It’s not that.”
“So, you’re just dumping me because you don’t like me?” Max tried to sound a little hurt. Truthfully though, the tension eased out of his shoulders and the constant throbbing in his head lessened. He’d gotten so used to the pain, Max hadn’t realized how intense it had become.
Cynthia reached across the table and grabbed his hand. A look of acute distress marred her perfect face. Her eyes filled with tears. She spent most of her days with that look on her face, thought Max. Any little thing set the woman off.
What had he been thinking when he proposed to her? It couldn’t have been because the sex was great. It was good, but someone who stressed out when she had to pick the color of her car couldn’t relax enough to have fun in bed. He came, but there was no real satisfaction in fucking the woman. She didn’t like wet, hot, messy sex. He’d had to invest in lubricant for the first time in his life. Why marry a woman who couldn’t get wet?
“No, Max, I like you a lot. It’s just that…well, I think we aren’t suited. I hope there will be no hard feelings.”
In Max’s opinion, what Cynthia hoped was that he wouldn’t take this out on her father. Their families had been doing business for years. It was one of the reasons he’d proposed.
Max smiled and did his best not to look too relieved. “No, Cynthia. You should know me better than that.”
Cynthia returned his smile, albeit warily. “That’s nice to know. I think it best if we tell our parents right away. Daddy is going to be furious.”
“Tell him it’s my fault.”
Her smile brightened; the tears disappeared. “Max, you are a true gentleman.”
No, he was a true putz, but he knew Cynthia’s father. And Max felt like a shit because, for the first time, he realized his heart hadn’t been with her or the engagement. “Just tell him I had second thoughts. We’re months away from even picking out the invitations. No harm done.”
The smile that brightened her face did nothing more than irritate him. Cynthia finally left after he reassured her wouldn’t hold a grudge. The moment she was gone, he motioned toward the waiter and ordered two fingers of whiskey. Max never drank in the middle of the day, but he felt the need to celebrate. Cold, yes, but theirs had been more a marriage of two companies than of two people. He took a sip of whiskey, enjoying the burn as it slid down his throat. He ordered another and knew that Anna would approve.
* * * * *
Anna Dewinter stared at her almost ex-boyfriend and wondered why she’d started sleeping with him to begin with. Most women would, with his wavy black hair and brooding blue eyes. And she’d really been attracted to him in the beginning. The sex had been…pretty good. His hands were quick and eager and he had the most amazing mouth, which had worked wonders on her pussy. But, as an artist, Brad tended toward the dramatic. It got old, fast.
Anna sipped her latte and glanced around her coffee shop. The lunch crowd had dwindled, but several customers lingered. Another good month or two. If she kept it going, she’d be able to open that second shop in Valdosta she was planning.
“Anna, are you paying attention to what I’m saying?”
Guilt sent a wave of heat to her face. Anna turned her attention back to him. His bottom lip drooped into a pout. She sighed. She really liked him, but Brad tended to
take things a little too seriously. They’d had some fun and now he wanted to complicate things. His eyes spoke of the pain he thought he felt. Anna sighed again. He was not going to make this easy on her.
“Listen, Brad, we had a good time, but I thought we weren’t going to take each other seriously.”
“I took our relationship seriously, Anna. I can’t believe you’re dumping me.” His voice rose and several of the customers sitting close to her table looked in their direction.
“Brad, you said you didn’t want to get serious. Your art was the only thing that mattered at the moment.”
“Until I met you.” His voice spoke of his anguish.
“You said that last week.”
“I’ve changed.”
No, what Brad meant was he thought he’d be the one to dump her.
“It’s been fun, and we had a good time, but really Brad, we’ve run our course.”
“Do you care so little for my feelings?”
Oh, God. He sounded like he was going to cry. Never again. Never again would she tumble into bed with an artist. No matter how talented his hands were or how much she needed a good fuck.
“I care, Brad.” And she did. She’d been drawn by his talent and his sense of humor, as well as his looks. And he was a wonderful man. But he didn’t want a long relationship any more than she did. He was young, and scared to move on.
Anna cleared her throat and tried her best to sound soothing and not irritated. “But you said yourself you were thinking of moving up to Athens at the end of the month. I think that will be good for you.”
He stood, his frown still deep, and spoke rather loudly. “I thought you cared about me, about my art.” Then he stormed out of her shop and, Anna hoped, out of her life.
“That was tense.” Myra sighed as she refilled Anna’s coffee. At eighteen, Myra still thought dramatic scenes were romantic. At twenty-seven, Anna just found them irritating.
She stood and allowed the tension to drain out of her. “Why don’t you take your break, Myra? I can handle this crowd for thirty minutes.”
Myra looked ready to agree, then something over Anna’s shoulder caught her attention. She rolled her eyes.
Anna turned, annoyance boiling in her belly, sure it was Brad. When she saw Max striding toward her, all that irritation melted into warmth. Because he was her friend, her best friend, and she loved him. Like a friend. Friends had really hot oral sex dreams about each other -- didn’t they?
She smiled. He responded with a grin that sent a wave of heat tingling along her skin. She hoped he attributed her hard nipples to the AC.
“Max, what are you doing here in the middle of the day?” Anna hugged him. The familiar scent of his aftershave, mixed with whiskey, surrounded her. Something was up, because Max never drank before five.
“Took the afternoon off.” Anna could tell his mind wasn’t really on her or their conversation. “You busy?”
“I was going to let Myra -- ”
“Don’t worry, Anna. I can wait a little bit.”
Myra eyed Max with her usual guarded admiration. Myra was a little wary of Max. Most people were. He was over six feet tall, big-boned, and he almost never smiled. With his chocolate-brown eyes and wavy blond hair, Max should have looked like a big teddy bear. Dressed in a slate gray suit, a black shirt, and red tie, he appeared lethal. And sexy. Oh God, was he sexy.
Anna cleared her throat. “Want something to drink?” He shook his head. “Okay. Why don’t we head on back to my office?” She grabbed her coffee and led Max to the small room behind the service counter.
Entering first, she headed for her comfy desk chair. Max closed the door behind him. When she’d taken over the restaurant a couple years ago, she’d painted the room soft lavender and had hung a large mirror behind her desk. It made the windowless office seem bigger.
Anna slid her sandals off and propped her feet on the desk, showing off her purple nail polish and new toe ring. She took a sip of her coffee and set it down. “What’s up, Maxwell? You don’t take off in the middle of the day. Ever.”
“Cynthia called off our engagement.”
Of all the things he could say, that was the last thing she expected. Her feet landed with a thud on the floor.
“She broke it off?” The woman obviously needed some professional help. Cynthia Myers had been lucky to get a man like Max.
Max shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. One side of his full, sensuous mouth quirked and a zing of heat blazed through her. Her nipples tightened against the lace of her bra. Wet heat flooded her sex. Anna crossed her arms over her breasts.
“Yes. She said we didn’t suit.”
Anna snorted. “I told you that five months ago.”
“No, what you said is two people as uptight as we were would drive each other crazy in a month.”
“I also said the sex would suck. And not in a good way.”
Max chuckled and she shivered as the sound sank into her. The man was entirely too sexy for her well-being.
“Well, I guess it was the day for breakups.”
His smile faded and his eyes narrowed. “You and Brett broke up?”
“No, Brad and I broke up. I wish one of these days you would remember my boyfriends’ names.”
“Keep them longer than four weeks, and I might.” Humor lightened his eyes.
“I dated Vic for two months.”
“Anna, the man was in a coma for three of those weeks. I don’t think you can count that.”
She frowned and leaned back in her chair again. “Anyway, he just left right before you came in.”
“Ah, young Brad was upset you dumped him.” He settled in the chair she had situated in front of her desk.
“What do you mean young?”
“He’s two years younger than you.”
“Cynthia is the same age as I am, and that makes her four years younger than you.”
He shifted in his chair and stretched out his legs. Max grunted and then changed the subject. “Anyway, Mom and Dad took it pretty well. I don’t think Mom liked her very much. Of course, I’m just assuming everything from the tone of her voice.”
“How do they like Greece?”
“I guess okay. No complaints. Mom’s just glad Dad isn’t messing with Chandler Industries.”
“Hmmm. Well, I think this calls for a celebration.”
“Celebration?”
“Yes. For the first time in years, we’re both without significant others at the same time.”
His eyes widened, and an emotion Anna couldn’t define came and went. Most of the time, she could tell what Max was thinking.
“I hadn’t thought of that.” His voice was void of any emotion.
“I say strawberry margaritas and enchiladas at my place tonight.” He grunted, and she took that as his usual “yes” grunt. “I’ll be out of here by four, and then stop off at the store. I have to pick up a couple of things. How about six?”
Max nodded as he stood. “I guess I need to get back to work.”
After he left, Anna hurried out to relieve Myra and send her home for the day. It was close to three, and there wasn’t much to do other than close up. Anna could handle the books. And John, her cook, could handle the kitchen. She’d have enough time to get home and clean before Max arrived.
And, if she kept herself busy, Anna wouldn’t have to think about the fact that she had probably just lost her mind.
Tequila and Max. She licked her lips. A delightfully dangerous mix.
Chapter Two
Max parked his sedan behind Anna’s vintage T-bird convertible.
What the hell am I doing here?
He knew exactly what he was doing there. Having dinner with his best friend. The girl he’d watched take her first steps and play flute in her first football halftime. He wasn’t there to seduce the utterly scrumptious woman she’d grown up to be.
Max closed his eyes and calmed his breathing. Their families were friends, and they
’d grown up as sort of unofficial cousins. He’d thought of her as the pudgy little girl with long braids and a mouthful of braces.
Until he returned home after graduating college. She’d lost all the baby fat, developed curves that left his mouth dry and his dick hard, and he’d felt dirty. She had been barely eighteen, and all he’d been able to think of was sliding his cock into her round, warm body.
Disgusted with himself then and now, he got out of his car, grabbed the bottle of wine he’d brought, and headed up the front path to her house.
The sound of hard southern rock drifted through her open windows. A light breeze shifted the curtains and brought the sound of her uneven voice to him. He smiled. Anna never could carry a tune.
He knocked on her screen door and she peeked around the corner of her kitchen. Her dark curls were damp with perspiration, as if she’d just had hot, wet sex. Heat singed a path to his cock.
She smiled. “Come on in. Just getting the enchiladas in the oven. I think I’ll have to turn on the AC.”
He opened the door and stepped into her foyer. As always, the color explosion in her home momentarily stunned him. Why, he didn’t know. Anna surrounded herself with color. Golds, reds, and purples graced every corner of her home. Knick-knacks littered every surface and were outdone only by her many framed photos. Most were pictures of the two of them. The clutter should have driven him crazy, but it was innate to Anna. And for some reason, it just looked right.
“Hey, Max, could you shut the windows in the living room?”
“No problem.” Max set the wine he’d brought on the table in the hallway and went through the process of closing the many windows in the living room and dining room. The scent of cumin, peppers, and onions filled the house. Anna’s steps sounded on the stairs, and he knew she’d run to shut the upstairs windows.
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