by Box Set
I’m totally up for that job, if it means he’s always this excited by the prospect of fucking Lorne and me.
“Now your turn, Lorne. This might be a teeny bit cold.”
I’m possibly a bit over generous with the lube, but I’ve heard that you can’t actually have too much. The inside of him is scorching hot. Lorne strokes his own cock as I loosen him up.
“Jas, where are you?”
“I’m right here.”
“Let’s do this. Let me feel you.”
That’s my cue to get out of the way. Okay, not entirely out of the way. I slip into the space between Lorne and the sink. Lorne’s hand is wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing gently as Jasper penetrates him. I put my hand over the top of his. He hisses and starts breathing hard.
They’re beautiful. So beautiful together. It’s more magical than I ever imagined and way dirtier too. They both get flushed and sweaty. The slaps as their bodies come together and part, ring loudly, particularly when they pick up the pace. If Lorne comes, I’m going to end up covered, but I don’t give a damn. In fact, hell yeah! BRING IT ON.
Chapter Twenty-One
Lorne Everett
I didn’t mean to say yes to this.
There’s so bloody much that could go wrong.
How could I not say yes to this?
I don’t recall the last time I actually got fucked. Not in this sense, at any rate. It’s flippin’ amazing. Jasper’s strokes nail me in a way that has me whining like an injured beast, but it’s all good. It hurts so damn good. And if that weren’t enough, Mika’s right there on her knees making sure my cock stays properly stiff.
That’s not always a given when I’m having my arse pounded. But she’s making this so sweet. I’d kiss her if bending over that far was a viable option. Jasper has one hand locked on my left hip and the other around my shoulder pulling me back onto him.
Damn, I never thought I was a screamer, but what he’s doing to me has turned me into one. I dig my teeth hard into my lower lip, but it doesn’t do a thing to stop the groans squeezing their way out of my throat.
“That good, eh?” he croons. “That good? You like this. You really like this.”
Of course I flippin’ like it. Maybe it even goes some way to persuading me that the three of us together could work out. Sure, it’s a risky prospect. There are going to be haters, in addition to the emotional knots the three of us are likely to tie ourselves in wondering if we’re the odd one out and whether the other two wouldn’t prefer to be a couple. But then relationships are always dicey prospects. Any time you stick your heart on the line, you have to factor in the chances of it getting squashed.
Neither Jasper nor Mikayla makes me feel as if they’d deliberately set out to fuck me over. Fuck me yes—they’re doing a stellar job of that. But fuck me over, no. Maybe I do need to give this a shot. If nothing else, I can let the rest of this weekend—or however long it is we end up being here for—play out.
After another 48 hours of pounding one another, I think we’ll have a clear idea of whether it’s going to work or not.
Speaking of which, I spy with my little eye, something I’d like to amuse myself with. “Fondle your tits,” I say to Mikayla. I want those winter woollies off her and the opportunity to squash my cock between her breasts. I bet they’ll look fantastic all sticky with my stuff.
She unhands me only long enough to strip her various layers off including a very pretty lacy bra, I’m almost tempted to ask her to leave on. Nah, bare flesh is definitely better. Last night, most of what went down happened in the dark, and I predominantly had a back view of her, so this broad daylight view of her naked is a treat.
I guess I saw her in the bathtub, but honestly, I wasn’t concentrating on the view back then.
She’s crazy beautiful.
Curved where she should be, but strong too. I guess the months she spends exploring the Amazon are responsible for that. What she isn’t is celebrity stick-thin with her collarbone jutting out. Can’t express how pleased I am about that. It’s not that I have anything against any body type, but I’ve been stuck in a particular place for too long, and I want to move away from that onto something new. I don’t need constant reminders of my past forever in my face.
Strong, curvy, and yet pleasingly petite is good. If only I had a hand free to touch her with, but I’ve both clawed around the edge of the sink, keeping me from pitching head first into it.
“Those are dirty thoughts you’re thinking, Lorne Everett.” She waggles a finger at me.
“Darlin’ you’ve no idea.”
“So tell me.”
I totally would, but I’m right about done for here. My brain starts to short circuit.
Jasper’s still inside of me, and Mikayla’s pressed to my front, arms wrapped around me, her breasts providing a pillow soft embrace around my cock.
I can’t remember why I thought this might be a bad idea anymore.
“Are you gonna come?” Her voice is honeyed. “Don’t you go making a mess of me, Lorne Everett.”
Oh, I’m definitely gonna do that. Pretty much any second now in fact. Any second…My heart is hammering and a spark catches in my balls, which are full and heavy. Any goddamned second…It jumps to my cock, then streaks upwards towards the tip.
There’s a sound in my ears, a baying that seems to roll and on. I think it’s coming from my throat.
I see stars. I’m not sure, I might have clunked my head against the porcelain monster full of dirty dishes. My legs are trembling. The only reason I’m still upright is due to Mikayla’s hold on me.
“I thought I told you not to come on me,” she murmurs, peeling herself away from me at the same time that Jasper pulls away and rips off the condom. He wanks himself hard and comes over my butt, while I’m still dazed and confused.
All done, Jasper leans around me to kiss Mikayla, and to then kiss me. I can taste her on his lips.
“See, we’re good together,” he says.
“Kinda seems that way,” I agree.
“Shower?” Mikayla suggests.
“Shower,” we both agree.
There’s snow falling as we race across to the bathroom shed where this adventure began. The sky is a warm peach tone, while the white of the surrounding fields and crystals in the air make it as bright as a summer’s day.
Inside the bathroom is the total opposite. It’s dappled by shadows. Only a few streaks of light permeate the slats of the blinds and the frosted glass. We all climb into the circular tub and stand beneath the artificial rainmaker.
I squirt shower gel into my palm and offer to wash Mika’s tits.
“Does this mean I get to stay?” she asks. “Better not tell Mrs. Miggs.”
I look at her with Jasper standing on the other side of her. Their eager faces. They’re both wearing their hearts on their sleeves. Not that either of them have a stitch of clothing on.
“Depends.”
“Lorne,” Jasper snaps.
“On what?” Mika blinks, there are water droplets clinging to her eye lashes.
“How do you feel about DP?”
She playfully smacks me across the abs. “Oh you…You have got to be kidding me.”
I cuddle up to her, thwarting her attempts to further poke me. I pull Jasper into the hug too, and take a moment to kiss him hard. He looks a teeny bit confused.
“This is gonna be okay. It’ll work out, Lorne.”
It’s hard to tell who he’s reassuring, me or himself.
Maybe it will and maybe it won’t. We’ll try it out and either succeed or fail. Either way, we’ll all have a good time figuring it out.
Oh, and in a minute or two, they’re both going to realise I was being serious about that sex act.
A NOTE FROM CLARA ~ I hope you enjoyed reading Bath Bomb, I had a lot of fun writing it! If you’d like to share your thoughts with other readers, please leave a review.
Bath Bomb is the book that was never meant to be. It spawned,
as many of life’s joys do, as a doodle on a page while I was brainstorming titles for the rest of the Sunsetters series. Alongside Cherry Bomb, Sex Bomb etc., I jokingly added Bath Bomb. BOOM! The story was born, and it inveigled its way into my brain.
Considering the title, it was never meant to be a serious or deep tale, just a bit of quick and dirty fun, something I could surprise my readers with as a reward for their support, but the characters demanded more… more sex, more page time, more depth. They’re far from done with me yet. They’ll be back later in the series in Photo Bomb to address all those pesky unanswered questions such as what the heck is up with Mikayla’s family. Meanwhile, if you haven’t already, check out Lorne’s first appearance in Cherry Bomb. The story is about Dare and Flicka, but it totally wouldn’t happen if it wasn’t for Lorne. He also has a role to play in Sex Bomb, check that one out below.
Okay, shout outs! Firstly, to my awesome beta readers Karen Sellers and Elizabeth Varlet, I love you guys and the fact you always want more dirty stuff. Secondly, to the ladies in the unofficial Romance Divas Chatzy room, you’re always there and ready to offer support, make suggestions and encourage me to steam up your screens. Thank you for putting up with my downbeat Britishness. You’re all fantastically awesome.
Before I sign off, is there a particular story you’d like me to write, or character you love? Let me know! Also, if you haven’t, join my VIP readers’ lounge where we discuss projects, covers and generally enjoy some behind the scenes fun.
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PPS. I also write as Madelynne Ellis, so check out her stuff too.
About the Author
Clara Leigh is the alter ego of a New York Times & USA Today bestselling author. She loves tattooed bad boys, rock music, comic books, and movie villains.
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Also by Clara Leigh
Crazy Love
Cherry Bomb
SEX BOMB
(Forbidden Bad Boys)
Dylan Drake is out and proud. Admittedly, he’s been cruising from one bad romance to another, but when the studio behind his latest show insists on providing a female date-cum-bodyguard for a red carpet event he’s totally unprepared for what Kira Carter-Wells and her hot curves do to him.
Kira’s mission is simple… Arrive late, depart early, and in between ensure her drop dead sexy charge stays out of trouble. But keeping one of Hollywood’s favourite bad boys in check isn’t easy, especially when he refuses to acknowledge the danger he’s in. Never mind that all he has to do is smile and he turns Kira inside out.
As the pair navigate the world of glamour, celebrity crushes and knife-wielding maniacs it becomes increasingly difficult to focus on what’s right, particularly when what’s wrong feels so good.
Check out Sex Bomb!
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In The Spotlight
Ally Decker
About This Book
In The Spotlight - Ally Decker
Pretending to date a movie star definitely wasn’t on Sylvia Urban’s agenda but a girl has to do what a girl has to do. And after a paparazzo catches them in rather uncompromising position, this is exactly what this girl has to do.
Greg Abrams really needs everything to go right if he wants his new project to get green-lighted, but when the cute Broadway geek almost literally falls into his life, things get complicated really fast.
As the pair grows closer, the ‘pretend’ part of pretend dating gets thrown out of the window, but after they started off as a lie, it’s hard to know what’s real and what’s not.
And the clock is ticking.
Chapter One
Sylvia shivered as she exited the theater into the chilly night. The weather in New York City ignored the calendars often enough, so it wasn't surprising that in late March they were still experiencing temperatures below forty degrees, but Sylvia always dressed with her optimism instead of her common sense.
If her damn headache turned into a cold, she would only have herself to blame.
She tried to burrow under her coat and push her hands deeper into her pockets, considering her options. She paused on the sidewalk as people coming out of the theater moved around her. She should really go home, take an aspirin, and sleep it off—whatever it was—but she'd planned to go to the stage door tonight. Charlie Amis had performed today as the lead, and Sylvia had loved him since she'd seen him last year in Coming to Seattle, so she'd been hoping to meet him tonight.
I'll take the aspirin and go to bed, she promised herself as she turned into the side alley. In an hour or so.
Someone bumped into her, pushing her to the side, and Sylvia lost her footing. She managed to avoid falling to the ground by reaching out to brace herself against the wall, but dark spots clouded her vision. She closed her eyes. Damn it.
Nausea joined the headache, and Sylvia squatted down, taking a deep breath, but that just made things worse. The smell of the dumpsters a few feet away hit her, and she almost gagged.
"Hey, are you okay?"
She raised her head slowly to look at the good Samaritan passer-by, and the first thing she noticed were shiny black shoes. As she let her gaze follow the path up from there, Sylvia took in the sight of a well-dressed, tall man with wide shoulders, who looked exactly like…
"You look like Greg Abrams.” The words slipped out before she could stop herself, and Sylvia winced.
The man sighed. "Yeah, I know, I've heard it before."
Greg Abrams was an international movie star whose face was on a cover of a magazine every other week. His latest movie, the third one in the Collectibles franchise, was the highest grossing movie of all time. She wouldn't get it wrong.
"Oh my God. I’m about to throw up in front of Greg Abrams." Her brain-to-mouth filter still wasn’t working, but the man in front of her only chuckled and took a small step back.
"Are you really?" Greg-Freaking-Abrams asked, handing her a small water bottle he apparently had in his pocket, ready to rescue random women from utter humiliation.
She took it after a second of hesitation. "The jury's still out on that one."
"Drink the water, then. Slow sips should settle your stomach."
Sylvia had no idea if it was true—she could just as well end up throwing up water instead of her early dinner—but in the end, she did as he’d told her.
After a minute or two, she began to feel marginally better. The headache was still there, but the nausea had retreated and the black spots were gone.
"Thank you. I don't think I'm going to throw up now."
Greg-Freaking-Abrams—Sylvia really couldn't stop thinking about him this way—offered her a quick, one-sided smile. "Great. Then it's relatively safe to do this." He eyed the wall next to her and stepped closer, squatting by her side without leaning against the building.
"What are you doing?" Sylvia raised her eyebrows at the guy.
"Keeping you company until you feel better."
"I feel better already."
He shook his head. "Better than now. Good enough to actually leave this…place." He frowned at their surroundings, and she didn't blame him. As she looked around now, she realized she’d ended up in probably the filthiest corner of the street, with a dumpster only a few feet away on either side of her.
She closed her eyes for a moment. "I'm trying to will myself to feel better faster," she told him.
He chuckled."Well, sometimes it works."
Sylvia opened her eyes to look at him. "Does it?”
"It worked for me a few times, I guess." He glanced down at the ground. "I tend to feel sick right before a big premiere."
She grimaced. “I imagine throwing up on the red carpet could potentially be worse than doing it in the back alley.”
"Potentially, yes."
Sylvia took another sip of the water to have a moment to collect herself. She was sitting between the dumpste
rs and talking with a movie star about throwing up. Or, she was having some vivid hallucinations. If she had a fever, it wasn’t that improbable…
"So, what are you doing here?” Greg asked right when the silence was about to slide into the uncomfortable territory. “Were you coming from the theater?"
Sylvia winced and remembered where she'd been heading to. Damn it, she was going to miss Charlie Amis after all. "Yes. I wanted to go to the stage door." Then she realized she hadn't even introduced herself. "I'm Sylvia, by the way."
"Greg. Nice to meet you." He smiled as if it was truly nice to meet a strange woman in a back alley like this. "I saw Illuminations as well. Great show."
"Right?" Sylvia brightened and sat up straighter. "I love it. Tonight was my third time."
"Third time? Wow, that's some dedication." Greg shook his head. "I don't remember watching anything three times in recent years."
Sylvia decided she probably shouldn't tell him that she'd watched her favorite play eight times last season. Three times was not uncommon for her at all.
"I'm a big Broadway addict," she admitted. "That's kind of what I do."
“Lucky you.” Greg smiled. “There's a lot of shows I want to see while I'm here, but this was my first. I only got into town yesterday."
"You were lucky to see Charlie Amis as the lead. He's an understudy, but he's amazing," Sylvia said, playing with the cap of the bottle. "Not that the main actor isn't great, too, I just… Charlie's something else."
Greg’s smile only grew. "That he is." He shifted in his crouch but still kept away from the wall. Sylvia didn't blame him. His coat probably cost more than she spent on tickets in a year. "How are you feeling?"
